#as far as jobs go‚ it's not the best‚ but it's not the worst either {headcanons}

[a-small-writer-in-a-big-world]

Regrets: cbf!soap x f!reader

2023

Soap was torn between whether he should throw away the picture or keep it. He should throw it away, it had cockblocked him but the longer he stared, the more he just couldn't make himself do it.

It was a picture of you and him together. He hadn't seen it for years and he was honestly caught off guard when he caught a glimpse of it underneath all the junk he had shoved into his desk...which included the condoms he was about to use.

Now you were on his mind at the worst time possible.

"Everything okay?" The woman he snuck on base, Cady, wondered expectantly from his bed.

Fuck.

His stomach dropped and he almost felt nauseous. This felt like a stupid idea despite the fact that he did this often whenever he knew he wasn't going to be deployed soon.

"Yeah, 'course, just want to keep ya waiting." He teased, trying his best to put on a show.

"Not for too long."

He sighed and took one last glance at the photo before he shoved it back into the drawer. He grabbed a condom and quickly tried to force himself back into the headspace he had when sneaking Cady in.

The sex went by in a blur, though she seemed pretty satisfied as she gave him a kiss before he snuck her back out of the base. He almost couldn't remember any details as he stood outside in the cold night with a cigarette in between his fingers.

Seven years.

That's how long it had been seen he'd seen or spoken to you.

Of course, seven years wasn't how long it had been seen he last thought about you. Tonight was the first time in about a week, your entire being popping up in his mind often with little and big things he encounters through his day to day. It was only natural considering he spent two decades of his life with you.

He huff and smoke curled out of his mouth. He ran a hand through his mohawk, tugging at the short strands of hair as he stared off into nothing.

An emptiness had settled inside him since he saw the photo. It was the same emptiness that consumed him when he thought about you late at night, the same regret that he ran from so often.

What were you doing? Did you have a good job that paid you well, that hopefully didn't treat you like shit? Where were you living? Who were you living with? He could remember seeing something about a boyfriend on one of your socials.

Soap grabbed his phone and went to his socials before he stopped himself.

There was no sense in torturing himself over this again. Not when he had to focus on his job, not when this was his fault.

He stomped out his cigarette and went back to his room, getting ready for tomorrow as he quickly the changed the sheets and took a shower. However for the rest of the night his mind raced with thoughts about you, unable to fall asleep as he tossed and turned while fighting against looking at his phone.

The next morning wasn't any better.

The urge to check his phone, to look at you again and to know more about what was going on latched onto him. He tried his best to ignore it and did well enough, though he did find himself slipping his hand into his pocket a few times before stopping himself.

Usually he was good at keeping his thoughts away and not indulging in them but when it came to you? All of that flew out the window.

Soap was in the gym when he came to a realization that made his heart dropped.

You got engaged last year.

He remembers you posting about it and he remembers how much it hurt to read it.

He quickly threw down his weights the best he could and pulled out his phone, almost frantically going to your socials to see if you had gotten married yet, even going so far as to check out your mother's socials too.

However, your latest post was from before you got engaged, nearly two years ago now and there was nothing about any engagement on your mother's either. All evidence of it had disappeared.

He didn't know what to think. It could mean anything and he wasn't going to jump to conclusions about whether that meant if it had gotten broken off or not because he secretly wanted that. Regardless there wasn't much relief, especially as he began to look through your photos again.

You looked happy in them and fucking beautiful. It didn't matter what setting, what occasion, every picture you posted of yourself was pretty than the last.

It made his heart heavy.

He was missing every milestone. He had no clue what was going on in your life because he stopped talking to you. He made the two of you become strangers, and while he loved his job and found happy moments, you seemed to be doing a lot better than he was.

Good.

If he was still in your life he knew how miserable you'd be. He could only think of how angry you'd be at him, how you'd probably stress yourself into health problems because of him. You probably resented him but he was okay with that.

You were a lot happier now and that's all he could selfishly ask for.

Soap scrolled through your photos, staring at you because this was the closest he'd get to ever seeing you again. He couldn't help but wonder why you stopped posting.

"Already with a new girl? The last one had you that pent up, huh?" Gaz teased and he felt his cheeks go red before he gave him a quick glare.

"Fuck off." He huffed and Gaz chuckled as he leaned over to get a better look.

"Well who is she then?"

Soap wiped some of the sweat off his forehead as he glanced between Gaz and you on his phone. He almost wanted to put his phone away and genuinely tell Gaz to going away but he didn't. Instead he just shrugged.

"We grew up together." He explained and couldn't help but smile. "Practically glued to each other."

"Something happen?" Gaz wondered and his smile fell.

"We grew apart. Lifestyles couldn't mix."

"That's rough."

Soap hummed and put his phone away. He knew it was a bad idea looking at your photos and now he just couldn't help but feel the regret in his stomach. No matter how much he tried to tell himself it was for the best, he just couldn't believe it.

"If you miss her that bad you should try to reach out." Gaz said but Soap shook his head.

"Nah, she probably deleted my number. Doubt she'd want to talk to me anyway." He tried not to let it show how that hurt him as he picked up the weights again.

You did it to yourself. It was what he told himself whenever he began to feel this way about you. He made the decision, he couldn't go back on it.

Even when he was laying in bed later that night staring up at his phone, his fingers hovering above the keyboard. The last time he texted you was seven years ago, the last time he texted you was something completely random.

What would he even say? There was nothing he could say that would make up for the last seven years of no contact. There was no amount of friendliness that could make up for what he did.

If he said something he couldn't help but imagine how angry you'd be.

Shame washed over him and he set his phone down as he stared at the ceiling. It was better this way. It had to be.

~

Gunfire filled the air and Soap's heart raced. He kept his attention on the bomb he was disarming while the other's kept the heat off him. Despite the adrenaline running through him, his fingers were steady and his mind was focused on the bomb.

He was quick in cutting the wires and inputting the right codes to disarm it before it went off, killing more than just his team.

Just as the timer stopped ticking, he felt a bullet graze the top of his shoulder and he ducked for cover. He quickly grabbed his gun and shot at his assailants, ignoring the burning pain in his shoulder.

His eyes caught onto their main target, Makarov.

In that moment he watched the terrorist grab his hand gun and shoot a bullet point blank into Price's abdomen. His blood went cold and he ran towards him without a second thought, firing his weapon into Makarov's back.

Yet when he got close, Makarov punched him in the face and grabbed his arm. He was pulled back, a sickening pop resonating from his shoulder and he felt the warm metal of the barrel of a gun pressed to his temple.

He moved and the gun went off.

Tags are closed!

A/n: don't worry guys Mak did not survive don't worry your pretty heads about anything else :) (Soap’s not dead it's okay I just like a little bit of drama)

Tags: @elysian0612 @cassiecasluciluce @pepsicolacoochie @hayleybarnesx @tiredmetalenthusiast @misshoneypaper @sodavrr @ghostslittlegf @glitterypirateduck @comeonatmebruh @mandalover2023 @blush-haze @xxshadowbabexx @cod-z @sadsackssss @fandomsfanficsfantasize @raeyas-ghost

#cbf!soap #john soap mactavish x reader #john soap mactavish x you #soap x reader #soap x you #johnny soap mactavish #johnny soap mctavish x reader #johnny soap mactavish x you #john soap mactavish #modern warfare #cod #call of duty

[street-smarts00]

I have a request for a drabble or headcannon style thing, whatever you prefer. Where spencer and reader are very close (friends or dating you can decide) and he makes a fatal mistake on the job that gets reader killed 😳 if that is something you will do 🥰 thank you

(Long) Drabble: Doubt Comes in

Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!reader

A/N: Thank you so much for requesting! Normally I don’t like sad endings lol BUT this request gave me the motivation to write something with this idea I’ve had. I almost made it a full one shot but didn't know how. (if you like Orpheus and Eurydice, see if you can catch the hadestown references)

Warnings!: Sad ending/ANGST, Murder, death of a loved one, mentions of kidnapping, anxiety and questioning reality

Its kinda long for a drabble but not long enough where I would call it a one-shot, i got carried away but hope ya'll like it!

The team was working on a case with an unsub that was targeting couples. The team didn’t realize that the unsub had been stalking them since they arrived. He quickly learned of your relationship with spencer. 

You were leaving the precinct to follow up with a victim's family member when the unsub had snuck up on you. After you went missing the team went into a frenzy and tracked your location to an abandoned warehouse. 

When they arrived on the scene they had the unsub on the phone. He claimed that you were safe and unharmed. 

He said you were free to go but only one member of the team could go get you. He demanded they send in her boyfriend. 

Hotch was hesitant to send Spencer in. He was in shambles ever since you went missing that afternoon. His mind was scattered, he couldn’t think of anything but you. 

They figured while this was exactly what the unsub wanted, it was their best chance to get you out safe. 

Spencer was handed the phone and headed towards the warehouse. The building was dimly lit, it was so dark he could barely see 5 feet in front of him. The place was filled with storage and pallet rack shelves turning it into a maze. 

As he made his way through the building the unsub would give him directions if he strayed too far from the path. It was like the unsub had eyes everywhere, he must’ve either had cameras or was positioned on a hidden upper level. 

While Spencer was walking the unsub would taunt him through the phone. Asking questions about your relationship. 

It made him sick. He never said anything to the man on the other end of the line; didn’t want to give the unsub the satisfaction of knowing he was in shambles.

It felt like he had been walking for forever when he finally reached you. You were curled up in a corner of a dead end. When you saw him you jumped up and landed in his arms. He felt you trembling against him and it made his heart crack. 

“You said you would let her go if I came to get her,” he spoke into the phone with a shaky voice. 

“And I intend to keep my promise. You both are free to go. Except, she must walk behind you. You cannot not turn around under any circumstance until you both are out of the building.” 

“What will happen if I do?” 

“Let’s just say you’re wearing a kevlar vest and she’s not. If you turn around, speak, or hang up the phone, I shoot.” Spencer's stomach dropped. “And don’t even think about being a hero and giving her your vest.” 

“That's all we have to do? And we can go?” You asked, voice horse from not speaking in hours. 

The voice on the phone spoke again. “You’d be surprised how many men can not resist the temptation. The worst temptation you’ll ever meet, the one that lines between your ears and behind your eyes.” 

It seemed like a simple enough task. To walk out of the building. Spencer trusted you to be there and you trusted him to keep his eyes ahead. 

He placed a hand on your cheek. “I promise I-“ 

“I know. I love you,” You interrupted. 

“I love you,” he spoke softly before leaning forward to capture his lips with yours. The kiss was desperate, like he was trying to savor every last bit.

You both separated from the kiss and started your journey through the warehouse. This time the unsub wasn’t giving him directions to find his way back. At first he didn’t need them, with his eidetic memory he could recall the pathway he took. 

But as he kept walking the anxiety started to eat away at him. The darkness was messing with his eyes and the silence was deafening. He started to make wrong turns, forgetting which path to take and doubting himself. Either he was getting lost or the building was getting longer. 

The only thing that brought him comfort was the sound of your footsteps behind him. Or was that his footsteps? He didn’t know anymore. 

It felt like his senses were working against him. He already felt like an idiot with his mind not being able to think straight due to your disappearance. But now your life was in his hands and they’ve been trembling since he walked in. 

The logical part of his brain told him there would be no reason for you to not be behind him. But the anxiety running around in his head was questioning if you had ever been there at all. Or why would he let him win? Why would he let her go?

He had thoughts pounding in his mind of “Is this a trap that's been laid for me? Is this a trick that's been played on me?”

After what felt like a lifetime he made it to the front door. His footsteps picked up and he grasped at the handle to feverishly push the door open. 

Spencer walked outside as a wave of relief washed over him. They finally made it. 

He turned to face you as the corners of his mouth perked up. He met your eyes, shining with glee that you made it out safe. 

Then it got loud. He heard gunshots vibrating against his eardrums. Your eyes went wide as saucers. You grasped at your abdomen before you crashed into Spencer. 

How could this happen? They made it out. He said he would let them go. And Then Spencer saw it. 

You hadn’t made it out yet. 

He turned to look at you before you crossed. You both didn’t make it out. You got hurt, and it was his fault. 

He held you close to him. The surrounding sounds all blended together. Morgans screams for a medic, the officers breaking into the building. That all fell on deaf ears. 

It seemed as though his whole life fell apart when he saw you mouth his name as the light disappeared from your eyes.

Your life was in his hands, and he let you slip away.

“Eurydice, dying now a second time, uttered no complaint against her husband. What was there to complain of, but that she had been loved?” ― Ovid, Metamorphoses

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid headcanon #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x you #spencer reid one shot #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid #criminal minds fanfiction

[tactfullyinappropriate]

This is part rant, part sex advice so read at your own discretion. Also one of those posts I'll get a lot of flak for.

In lesbian nsfw content on tumblr dot com one of the most prevalent sentiments is 'I want to pleasure my partner' (insert any variation on it) which is fair and all, and there are a lot of service tops around so it makes sense really. But. For some of us who have difficulty experiencing orgasm or even enjoying sex at all, making our pleasure the focal point of the experience is the absolute worst thing you could do.

It's a nice sentiment, I guess, but if it doesn't actually produce pleasure, is it really that nice? And before you come at me with 'some people really are just service tops and they get their pleasure from pleasuring their partner' - I get it, I do. As a top (or dom/me) you have the right to your preferences and you may absolutely refuse to tell your partner 'Your orgasm is inconsequential, I'm gonna fuck you anyway'. Not to mention that approach is verging on kinky and getting near mindfuck territory, which not every top (as in the person doing the penetration in this case) is comfortable with. Heck, not every dom/me is comfortable with that either - pretending to disregard your partner's pleasure can be a particular flavor of kink not everyone is into.

Buuut.. a lot of what I'm seeing here comes across more as a lack of real-world experience rather than a self-aware preference to focus on your partner's pleasure. Like for example, the amount of 'overstimulation' posts I'm seeing is just wildly disproportionate compared to the amount of women who can be forced to orgasm again and again, and again. This has never been my experience on either side of the dynamic, nor the experience of any of my friends or acquaintances. More often than not, women have trouble reaching a climax and can't really be "forced" into it.

Orgasms are not just a bodily sensation triggered by a certain type of mechanical stimulation. They require you to be in the right headspace as well. So if you actually want to bring about an orgasm, dropping the pressure may be (I want to say usually is) your best bet.

Look, I get it. I've been with women who come from a 2-minute clit rub. I didn't feel particularly accomplished with them... but they do exist! How wonderful for them and the people who just love pleasuring them. The rest of us however? 'Your pleasure is my pleasure' is the worst approach with us. Like, thanks, now if I don't come not only am I bruising your ego but also diminishing your pleasure? That's A LOT of pressure put on my fickle mental focus and unreliable vagina.

All of this is to say: it's fine to have your fantasies of overstimulating a partner to the point of incoherence. But be prepared that the reality of sex may be very, very different depending on how your partner's body and mind work. And sometimes, if your partner's pleasure really is that important to you, pretending it's the complete opposite might be the key to the castle - if you can get with that of course. Nothing's done a better job at helping me let go and experience actual pleasure than a partner's response to my 'I'm not sure if I can come though...':

"That's okay, baby. I don't need you to come for me to enjoy your body."

Um. Yes, Sir.

*I use the word 'woman' here purely based on my actual real-life experience so far but I'm sure this is applicable to a number of different identities. Even for some cis men orgasms are not as easy and effortless as porn makes it seem, I've been told.

#claudia says #wlw ns/ft #wlw bd/sm #wlw nsft #wlw ns/fw #sapphic ns/ft #sapphic nsft #sapphic bd/sm #sapphic ns/fw #lesbian #sapphic #wlw #stone butch #butch lesbian #butchfemme #butch dyke #butch #butch4femme #femme lesbian #high femme #butchfemme nsft

[gas-stxtion]

//after approximately 20 years i finally think i might've settled on a name for the organization tony worked for! because calling it "the shadow government" felt weird to me and i wanted to give it like. an actual name.

anyway, tentatively calling it the International Syndicate for Aberration Detection and Elimination (ISADE). its general purpose is to locate and neutralize supernatural entities determined to be a threat to human life.

i also have ideas for like... a scale they use to determine how much of a threat an entity is. will try to report back on that sometime later!

#you know this whole thing is one big experiment‚ right? and you're the little mouse? {ooc} #as far as jobs go‚ it's not the best‚ but it's not the worst either {headcanons}

[sp0o0kylights]

Whole thing on A03

It didn't matter how much Steve explained. Not one member of the Party was going to get it. 

Tommy and Carol would, but then, they were no longer on speaking terms. A fact that hurt even if it was for the best--particularly in times like these, because they got it. 

They understood how he had been ensnared with the very same wealth people mocked him for. What it meant when his parents demanded Steve drop everything and go on vacation, his own plans be damned. 

They knew, because their families had done much the same, and so the lives they led also were tethered to leashes made of their parents' design. 

Dustin, whose mother bent over backwards to try and better her kid’s life, didn’t even have a frame of reference for this kind of thing, let alone sympathy. 

"Do they not understand you have a job?" Dustin asked incredulously, and Steve didn't have the emotional bandwidth to explain that his parents didn't consider working at Family Video to be a real job. 

As far as they were concerned, Steve could quit if he had to, and then go find another job when they were done using him to play the nice, All-American family. 

Likely for business purposes.

"They aren't the type to care." Steve said instead. 

It was easier than getting into it.

(Easier than explaining the BMW wasn't in his name, but his parents. 

How his money went into a bank account they had access to. 

That practically everything he owned was actually owned by Richard and Stella Harrington, and both were quick to remind him of that fact the second they felt Steve was acting out of line. 

And boy, had he been acting out of line. 

 Getting into fights. 

Turning their punishment of working a job they picked specifically for the humiliating outfit, into the far worse public embarrassment of being involved in a mall fire--an embarrassment because Steve had "lost" the keys to the BMW, had "put himself in danger" playing hero instead of letting the perfectly capable firefighters do it, then “paraded around” with bruises all over his face, racking up medical bills. 

Truly a sin for someone who hadn’t made it into college.) 

So no, this vacation they demanded Steve drop everything for  was not anything close to a reward, or even something they were doing to spend time together. There was a reason they needed Steve, and as far as they were concerned, Steve was at their beck and call until he shaped up and got his life back on track. 

His own plans be damned. 

"That's not fair though!" Dustin burst out and Steve sighed in relief, because here at least, he knew what to do to distract his younger friend.

 “We planned our trip months ago!” Dustin continued, looking two seconds away from giving in and stomping his foot. 

The kid might have been smarter than Steve--smarter than most people really--by a hell of a lot, but he was still fourteen. 

Smarts, Steve knew, didn't exactly equate to emotional intelligence, and it definitely didn't stop rampaging hormones.

Ice cream on the other hand, was a great aid in both areas. 

"You better be making this up to us." Dustin threatened thirty minutes later, spoon wedged deep into a sundae. “We can’t do, like, half the stuff we were going to do without you!” 

“I'm sure you guys didn’t need me to play ghost runners or whatever.” Steve said, but was quick to back down when Dustin nearly threw his spoon at him. 

Rather than antagonizing him more, Steve dutifully raised his hand to put over his heart. "I swear on your mom that I’ll make it up to you.”  

Dustin rolled his eyes, but otherwise, finally, let the whole thing go. 

Stupidly, Steve thought this meant the worst was over.

He was wrong. 

xXx 

Mike hadn’t cared. 

El and Will hadn’t really either, though both expressed some sadness that Steve wouldn’t be participating in the camping trip that the Party as a whole had been looking forward to for the past few months. 

Erica had simply snapped at him, making him promise much the same as Dustin had that he would be making it up to her sometime in the future. Likewise, she had been bought off by ice cream (even if she insisted it didn’t count because Steve owed her ice cream anyways.) 

Max was the surprising emotional standout. 

"You can't tell them no?" She demanded, arms crossed over her chest. 

Lucas was hovering awkwardly at her shoulder, shooting "what can you do?" vibes as hard as he could at Steve as his (currently on-again) girlfriend outright dressed the elder boy down; her shoulders creeping up higher and higher until she seemed to realize she was visually giving away her upset and forcibly relaxed them. 

Unlike Dustin and Erica, her tirade was very out of character and Steve was growing more concerned by the second that something was wrong the more she spat at him. 

“I mean for fucks sake, didn’t you tell them you had plans!?” She finished, eyes narrowed in rage. 

Which was rich coming from someone whose stepdad had Billy Hargrove running all over town before he’d run off after the guy’s death, but then, Steve knew better than to bring all that up.

(The image of Max, unresponsive in the hospital with casts on almost every limb, was still too fresh. 

Even now he didn’t like to push her, even if the Party as a whole did their best to take notice when one of them was isolating themselves again. 

Max, though she was down to one crutch, was still inclined to use it as a weapon and very much enjoyed practicing her swings on people’s ankles.) 

“I did indeed. They don’t care and they’re not giving me a choice, but for what it’s worth I am sorry.” Steve tried to keep his voice even and out of angry-shrieking range, and vaguely prayed it was working. “I swear, I will make it up to you guys, even if we have to go on a second camping trip.” 

This was clearly not the correct thing to say.

Though judging by the murderous rage being aimed his way, Steve was pretty sure nothing short of “You know what you’re right, let me go tell my parents to fuck off!” would make Max happy. 

“So you’re seriously just going to drop everything, all our plans, your job, us,” She took a very threatening step forward and despite her being a full foot shorter than him, Steve had to fight not to take a responding step back. “So you can go play rich boy in the Bahamas?” 

“We’re not going to the Bahamas--” Steve tried, but was interrupted with a loud “ugh!” of disapproval. 

“Whatever makes you happy, Steven.” Max spat, and then turned on her heel, storming off towards the rest of the Party (who had taken one look at Max’s face and fled into the arcade so she and Steve could “talk.”) “I’m sorry us peasants weren’t good enough to hang around!”  

“Sorry man.” Lucas apologized quietly, on his way to run after Max. 

Steve just scrubbed a hand through his hair and sighed. 

xXx 

“The kids are mad at you.” Nancy announced, appearing across the Family Video counter like a phantom. 

Steve swore, nearly dropping his stack of VHS’s, while Robin (who had clearly seen Nancy approach) cackled at his fumble. 

“Yeah, I did get that memo.” Steve said, after he stabilized his stack, safely moving them from his arms to the counter. 

Nancy peered around them, her face giving away nothing. “It is kind of shitty to cancel at the last minute like that. We were relying on you to drive.”

An old fury shook itself awake in Steve’s chest, taking an interest in the conversation the second Steve realized what Nancy was here to do. 

He took a deep, shuddering breath, and pressed it down, back into the box he’d slammed it in all those years ago. 

“I’d leave the keys to Robin here, but unfortunately, someone failed their drivers test.” Steve said instead, jamming his finger over his shoulder and blatantly attempting to pass the buck. 

Robin, who absolutely knew that was what he was doing, faked a gasp and kicked at his ankles. 

“That crotchety asshole failed me on purpose!” She protested, spinning to face Nancy. “He made like, three misogynistic comments before we even got in the car!” 

“Pointing out that he knew the car wasn’t yours wasn’t misogynistic, he was just surprised to see me letting you use the Beemer.” Steve shot back, rolling his eyes. “I don’t exactly let a lot of people drive it.” 

Unspoken was that Steve’s BMW was one of the town’s more unique cars, and thus easily identifiable by the locals at large. 

“How is that better!?” Robin returned, but Nancy cleared her throat before they could successfully get the Steve-and-Robin show on the road. 

“The point is that we--but really, the kids, were counting on you.” Nancy said, dipping into her patented “I’m upset with you” tone. 

A year ago it would have cut Steve to the bone, even if he didn’t show it. 

Now he just stared tiredly at her back. 

“I’m sorry, Nance, but it is what it is.” He said simply, hoping the apology (even if he knew it wasn’t so much a real apology as it was something he said to keep the rage from breaking out and wrecking havoc via his mouth) would soften his ex. “I don’t know what else to tell you.”

Given the abrupt narrowing of her eyes, it very much did not help his case. 

“For someone who was so vocal about trying to change I have to say this is pretty disappointing.” Nancy said simply, but with just enough of a tone that Steve had to close his eyes for a second. 

Feel the way that old anger, the one that had powered King Steve, hit the bars of its cage.

Robin stilled immediately next to him, her head ping-ponging between Steve and Nancy both as she too, clocked that Nancy was pissed, and here to chew Steve out about it. 

“Um.” She said, voice going high in discomfort. 

Steve grit his teeth. “I don’t exactly get a say in these things, Nancy. You know that.” 

He had to work to keep his voice even, fighting against the ice that wanted to sharpen his own tone. 

It was just---Nancy did know. 

Steve had told her all those years ago, in the safety of her arms, about his parents' expectations. Their predetermined path, the way they dictated large swathes of his life. 

How they’d allowed him to pick which sports he played, but required that he play a sport no matter the time of year. 

That the pool they had installed wasn’t for him, he just got to use it as much as he did in part because he’d joined the swim team, and the kind of mental mind games he and his parents played about things like that. 

Apparently either Nancy had forgotten, or simply hadn’t taken it in to begin with because she wasn’t backing down. 

(Not that Steve had ever seen Nancy Wheeler back down.) 

“I know you have trouble juggling your parents' plans with your own.” Nancy said, and her tone was absolutely icy now. “I certainly remember waiting for a date that never happened.” 

Steve sucked in a breath through his teeth, knowing immediately what Nancy was referring to. 

“I told you they came home unexpectedly.” He said, arms now crossed against his chest, nails digging into his arms as a way to help himself stay grounded. “They wouldn’t let me use the phone until the next day and I apologized.”

“And I recall having a lovely conversation with your mother where she said otherwise.” Nancy said, her words punctuated by another high pitched “Uhhhh.” from Robin. 

“Funny how you believe my mom over me.” Steve said and whoops, yup, he definitely sounded mad now. 

So much for all the effort he’d put in to staying calm. 

“Because I look at actions, Steve. Patterns. The same ones you kept repeating.” Nancy was clearly about to escalate, and Robin, bless her, had had enough. 

“He-eeey.” She said, wedging herself in between Steve and the counter Nancy was starting to lean over. “I totally get it, you’re both upset, but this maybe isn’t the venue to fight about it? There are customers in the store and--sorry Nancy--but I do kinda need Steve for work, so…” 

She trailed off, glancing nervously between the two of them. 

Nancy took a breath, blasting it out of her mouth like an academically inclined dragon. “You’re right. I’m sorry Robin.”

She then turned on her heel, making her way to the doors. She paused before them, and Steve prepared himself because he knew whatever she was going to say next, it was going to hurt. 

“I wouldn’t care if it was just me, Steve, but the kids don’t deserve you pulling this shit. Not after all they’ve been through.” With that, Nancy pushed through the door, head held high as she stormed to her car. 

As was typical for Nancy’s aim, she scored a direct hit. 

Steve, somehow, resisted throwing things. 

“Can you believe her!?” He said, the second the doors were closed and Nancy safely out of eyeshot. “Coming in here like that!?” 

He ran his hand through his hair, once, twice. 

A third time for good measure. 

“Yeah, that was seriously public for her.” Robin agreed, sliding up next to him. “Like really public.” 

Steve shrugged, because well. Not really. 

Not anymore. 

But Robin didn’t know that, just like Robin wasn’t entirely familiar with the depths Steve’s parents went to save face. They hadn’t exactly had time to really dig into it all, given how fast the Vecna situation had hit after Starcourt and the sheer PTSD both incidents had caused. 

Most nights they spent together was spent trying to avoid reliving nightmares, not discussing ones they were currently still living in. 

A fact that Steve was more than happy to bring her up to speed on, but to do so involved a lot of backstory, and backstory involved Nancy, and God, he was fucking pissed at Nancy. 

Soon it was an hour into his rant and he hadn’t actually gotten around to the sheer level of shit his parents would pull, too busy with Nancy and old echoes of ‘bullshit.’ 

 He only stopped when Robin put a hand on his shoulder, shaking him ever so slightly. 

“Dingus. You know I love you, and I know you’ve changed, but you do gotta admit, canceling at the last minute is kinda shitty and I get why they’re upset.” 

It was like the carpet had been pulled right out from under Steve, yanked so quickly he’d have to pinwheel to keep his feet. 

“What?” He said, eyes round in sheer surprise. 

“I just mean like, I get your parents are dicks but,” Robin’s face screwed up, looking like she’d sucked a lemon. It was her “I’m going to say something you don’t like face” and it hit Steve like a punch to the gut. 

“Our shift’s almost over and no offense, you’ve started to repeat yourself about Nance, and I get it! I do, memory shit is hard!” Robin’s hands moved as she talked, her bracelets jingling as if punctuating her point. 

“But I also think admitting you double booked yourself on accident and just taking responsibility for it would help smooth things over. Middle ground, you know?” Robin waggled her hands in a gesture that, for the first time in a long time, Steve didn’t understand. 

He found himself suddenly struggling to breathe. 

“Are you--are you saying you think I didn’t tell them I had a trip already planned?” 

Steve wasn’t sure how he managed to get it out. Wasn’t sure how he was doing anything, given the heat that was shooting through him, a hot mix of confusion and betrayal as Robin fidgeted to his left. 

“No! Okay well,” The lemon face got worse for a second. “I’m just saying you did kinda forget to pick me up that one time, and you do kinda blame your parents when stuff like that happens.” She bit a nail, peering at him out of the corner of her eyes.  

“I don’t--” Steve said, completely knocked adrift. “I…”

Robin didn’t believe him.

His Robin. 

Who wasn’t--wasn’t exactly siding with Nancy, but wasn’t saying she was wrong either, or that she understood that this shit was out of his control, and in fact, was kind of implying that Nancy was right more so than Steve was and---and--

There was a ringing in Steve’s ears he wasn’t sure actually existed. 

“I’m sure a lot of it is your brain injury. The doctors said your short term memory can take a while to fully come back and I totally get why you don’t wanna say that, I just, I think it would be better if--Steve?” Robin jumped back as Steve finally found his footing, swiping his jacket and punching out before she could catch how badly his hands were shaking. 

“I’m leaving.” Steve told her, his own words a million miles away, entirely uncaring if Keith fired him. 

Keith was likely going to fire him anyway, given Steve was about to ask for a week-long vacation not even four months after the whole Vecna ordeal. 

“Wait, Steve, hey--Dingus! I wasn’t done, I mean, I had more to say I, dammit Steve--!” Robin called after him frantically as Steve bolted for the door. 

Steve ignored her, aiming for the Beemer and swinging himself numbly into the driver's seat when he got it open. 

Put the car in park and avoided Robin’s face entirely as he backed it out, punching the gas far harder than he needed to. 

The Beemer roared in response, nose rising as it shot forward. 

Robin was his best friend. His fucking--platonic soulmate, as she kept calling him. The very idea that she agreed with Nancy in general was a blow but in this?

Against his parents? 

Nausea rolled angrily in Steve’s stomach, matching the sudden wetness that coated his eyes. 

Angry and needing an outlet, Steve stomped hard on the gas, taking the next corner far too sharp and making the beemer fishtail, tires squealing . 

He didn’t know where he was going.

He figured he’d find out when he got there. 

xXx 

Given what Steve knew about the universe at large, (nevermind Hawkins) it probably wasn’t the smartest thing to hang around the Quarry at night.

But then, summer was in full swing. Kids were home from college and itching to find a place to party without parental overhead. 

Deep to the left side of the water, around a few bends and tucked oh so neatly out of sight, was a place where one could do just that. 

Party.

This stretch had long been claimed by the college kids of Hawkins, and guarded zealously for it. 

With the sheer number of drunk people whooping and hollering around the bonfires below the ridge where everyone parked their cars, Steve figured he was safe enough. 

Even if he was up with said cars, sitting alone. 

Not like it mattered. If a demodog or demogorgan or demo-fucking-dragon decided to come along, Steve had half a mind to just let it have him. 

It felt easier than trying to fix the current mess his life was in. 

So he sat up here, blowing through the alcohol he’d purchased from the one gas station that never carded, drinking his problems away. 

(That also wasn’t the best course of action but with his parents home to spring the whole “vacation” ordeal on him, it wasn’t like Steve had a choice.) 

He hadn’t grabbed a lot--had been so damn upset and struggling to hide it that he’d picked up a four pack of wine coolers instead of the intended beer he’d wanted. It was all he had though, and so he chugged the last bottle with a wince and wished he was a hell of a lot drunker than he felt.

Then promptly caught sight of the person walking towards him, and wondered vaguely if he was drunker than he felt. 

Of all the people to come and offer him a can of beer, Steve would have never expected Tommy Hagan. 

He eyed it and his old friend both, before slowly reaching out and taking the can. 

“Heard you and your parents are doing CoHo this year.” Tommy said casually, leaning up against the front of the Beemer like it was old times. 

“Yup.” Steve replied, drawing the word out. 

“Angie Tideman’s parents are going, they’re bringing her ith .” Tommy said it casually, and had the good graces not to grin when Steve audibly groaned.

“Oh god.”

Tommy sucked on a lip, nodding absently. “Yeah.” 

Then; “It gets worse.” 

Steve, who now knew what this conversation was about, instantly began tearing into the beer can. “How can it get worse? You know what Angie’s like.”

Angie, whose full name was Angelina, lived a few towns over. Born to wealthy parents who doted on their beloved only child, Angie had more in common with your average shark than she did her fellow humans. 

A comparison that, frankly, was unkind to sharks.

She was without a doubt the most selfish person Steve had ever had the misfortune of encountering, and the mere idea of being trapped in a room with her made his skin crawl. 

Their parents were business buddies though, and god forbid he ever insult a business buddies kid, 

“She goes to Purdue, you know, with me and Carol.” Tommy said, instead of answering directly. “We cross paths a lot, party wise.” 

Steve stayed silent. 

Knew how Tommy talked, how his stories meandered. Especially the juicy ones. 

“She’s been talking a lot recently. Given you don’t look all that informed, I’m gonna assume the one person she hasn’t talked to is you.” 

Steve gripped the can of beer, a sudden, sick fear blooming in his gut. 

“Tommy.” He said mildly, not loud enough to really interrupt, but with enough force to let his former friend know to get to the point, now. 

“Got all super fancy right before we left for summer break. Hair done, whole new wardrobe, nails, you know.” Tommy waggled his fingers playfully, but dropped them when Steve just stared. “Went full whore on us. I swear she was making out with any guy who even looked at her--” 

“Tommy.” He repeated, this time a hell of a lot firmer. 

Done pushing, Tommy let go of the proverbial bombshell. “Apparently you’re planning on proposing to her this summer. She’s gonna return next year as an engaged woman, with you in tow, because apparently, you got into Purdue. Congrats by the way.” 

Tommy clapped him on the shoulder, right as Steve’s mouth went dry. 

For the second time that day, he found himself fighting the burning heat of embarrassment and fury as it rolled through him. 

“I’m proposing.” Steve said, as if saying it out loud would scare the very idea away. “To Angie.” 

“Yeah we kinda figured you didn’t know.” Tommy said with a snide little grin. To the average outsider it was mocking, but Steve knew better.

Tommy was uncomfortable, because Tommy had understood what Steve’s parents had done. 

“What I’d like to know is just how much Angie’s parents paid to get you into Purdue. That’s gotta be a minimum fifty thousand dollar donation at least.” Tommy removed his hand, to instead lean his shoulder against Steve’s. Like this was the old times, before they’d fought. “ I didn’t think they had that kind of money to throw around.”  

A past conversation with his father struck Steve, running through the front of his mind like a bad horror movie. 

“They sold the estate.” Steve said vacantly, the implications not quite hitting. “The one they’ve been trying to get rid of forever, over in Cape Cod.” 

“Oh shit.” Tommy said, blinking as he too, recalled what was likely his father telling him the very same news. 

“They sold the place on Cape Cod, and they used part of the funds to fucking buy me like a toy.” And yeah, saying it out loud, it definitely sounded bad. “I didn’t think Angie even liked me.”

“Does Angie like anyone?” Tommy asked, incredulously, but nudged Steve’s shoulder again when his joke didn’t net him the laugh he wanted.. “I mean, you had to know your old man had plans to straighten you out. He keeps getting mad at my dad, because the ass won't stop making jokes that I’m going to take over the company instead of you.” 

“And this is it. Attaching me to Angie.” Steve said vacantly. “Because they know if I get married…” 

He’d put his wife first. His family, first. 

The one he’d wanted, dreamed of, since he first realized he didn’t have one. 

He’d been playing checkers the entire time, too busy fighting fucking monsters and Russians to realize his parents had upgraded to chess. 

In a dizzying array of mental connect-the-dots, Steve replayed the last years worth of conversations. All the odd little things they’d said. All the dumb things Steve had just ignored. 

 They’d warned him. 

Had told him he better shape up, or they’d be forced to do something drastic. 

That his parents hadn’t wasted all this time, effort, money on him, for him to throw away his life like he was. 

“You better start acting right and figuring out how to get your life back on track, because you won’t like what happens if I have to fix it for you. You get a month Steven, and after that? Well. Just remember you forced my hand, Steven.” 

They knew. They knew him, and what made him tick.

“I think the real question is what Angie’s parents see in you.” Tommy teased, but then they both knew the answer to that puzzle. 

For all that Steve’s mom complained about her husband, the guy was a shrewd and calculating businessman. Those weekends, then weekdays, then more and more time away hadn’t just been so he could go screw his secretary. 

Richard Harrington had fast tracked his business to the point where it was now getting attention. The business journal, ‘Top 50 Companies to Watch’ kind. 

Even if Steve fucked up entirely, he was set to inherit a fortune and a business that would continue adding to it, for some time to come. 

Provided he did what his parents wanted.

Such as marrying Angie. 

Thing was, if his parents did what they always did, and held their wealth (his car, his home, his life and all the little things in it) against him like a gun to his head, if Angie got that ring around her finger? 

 Steve would bow to their whims. 

 Because they could fluster him into proposing so he didn’t embarrass Angie, and her parents and anyone else who’d undoubtedly be watching. They’d make a spectacle of it. 

Because once he did propose, they wouldn’t let him back out, burying him under guilt trips and veiled threats until he was marched down the aisle in a groomsman suite and told to stand. 

Because against all common sense, Steve wanted a family who loved him so desperately he’d chase it like a dog if he was presented with the opportunity and told to make it work. 

It didn’t matter that Angie was selfish. 

Steve would try anyway. 

His parents were maneuvering him as easily as they had back when he was a kid, using love as a tool to get him to do what they wanted and even seeing the nose hanging from the rafters, they knew just the right words to get him to place it around his neck. 

“Thought you’d wanna know.” Tommy finished, pushing himself off Steve’s car. “Before your parents sprung it on you.” 

“Sonofabitch.” Steve hissed angrily, a million thoughts racing through his head, the heat of being caught in a trap blasting down his spine. 

“Yeah.” Tommy added, rather unhelpfully. “But hey, given that you’re about to go on vacation to propose, why don’t we consider this,” here Tommy swept his hand, gesturing to the party below, “your proposal party?” 

It was a downright horrible idea.

But then, Steve didn’t exactly have a better one. 

Not  when the world itself seemed against him, grinding its heel into his back and laughing about it. 

He knew the drill. If he went down there, arm in arm with Tommy, then it wouldn’t matter that half those kids were from a few towns over, driven in by new college buddies.  

They’d see him as a reason to get wild, absolutely uncaring that they didn’t know who the hell he was. 

Steve needed that.

People who weren’t mad at him, buying into the easy lies his parents wove, or who didn't understand the games played against him. 

“Fuck it.” He announced, standing up from the hood of his car as Tommy’s grin morphed into something he used to see in the days of old, back when they were sneaking drinks from their parents' alcohol cabinets. “This way at least I get a party.”

Not like his parents were going to let him have an engagement party. Or a bachelor party, or likely let his ass back into Hawkins. 

No matter how long the engagement. 

Tommy cheered, raising his arms to the sky and Steve grinned wildly with him. 

He’d figure out how to get out of all this later--but for now, he wanted just a few damn hours where he didn’t have to think. 

Not about his parents, or Angie, or possible attempts to force him into marriage, like this was the yee olden days and Steve was a Victorian maiden who needed to be brought to heel. 

Likewise he didn’t want to think about the Party, or Russian torture, or how Nancy could be so damn smart in some things and downright stupid in others. 

He absolutely didn't want to think about Robin. 

“Hey boys and girls, look who I drug up!” Tommy yelled as they approached and soon, word had spread.

This was Steve’s proposal party, and he was here to get absolutely smashed (while encouraging everyone else to do the exact same, in his honor.) 

Which would be how Eddie found him a few hours later.

Still at the quarry, crossfaded off his ass, a forty in one hand and a lawn dart in the other. 

“Are you kidding me, Steve?” Eddie grit out, desperately trying to wrestle the lawn dart out of his hand. “You’re fucking partying with Tommy Hagan!?” 

Steve blinked at him a few times, finally catching on that Eddie was in fact, actually there. 

“When did you show up?” He asked, though given the wince on Eddie’s face and just how hard it had been to move his lips, Steve correctly assumed he’d slurred the shit out of the question. 

Somehow, Eddie understood him anyway. 

“Robin called me a while ago, gave me a list of places you might be. Almost skipped this one until I stepped out of my van to take a piss and heard the party.” Eddie explained, and somehow while doing so, he’d successfully gotten a hold of the dart. 

He was now working on removing the 40 ounce. 

Steve frowned, using his newly freed hand to grip it closer to his chest. 

“Harrington.” Eddie warned, and oh, wow, they were back to last names huh?

Well why not, it wasn't like his night could get worse. 

“This is mine, Munson.” Steve fired back, putting as much vitriol into Eddie’s last name as he could.

This did not detour the metalhead. 

“Come on man, give me the bottle.” Eddie said firmly. 

Steve shook his head stubbornly, enjoying the way his hair whipped at his face. “No.”

Another man stumbled over, a guy Steve absolutely did not know. He frowned, looking between Eddie and Steve. 

For two seconds, Steve thought they might have trouble, and given the way Eddie was tensing, he clearly thought so too. 

Instead, New Guy just kind of rocked on his heels. “Hey, shove off it, buddy. It’s this guy's bachelor party, let the man drink!” 

Eddie’s face did something complicated then, pulling the sort of expressive looks only he could manage.

It was both adorable and hilarious, and if Steve hadn’t just been reminded of the very reason he was drinking, he’d have told Eddie so. 

“Yeah!” He said instead, raising his hand in the air, toasting his bottle of forty against the other guy’s red solo cup. “It’s my proposalengagmentbachelor party!” 

Given the second, adorable-slash-hilarious look on Eddie’s face, Steve assumed those words hadn’t come out right either. 

“Okay.” Eddie said hands on his hips in a stance Steve was pretty sure Eddie had gotten from him. “Here’s what's going to happen. You’re going to put the bottle away. Then you’re going to give me your car keys, and then the two of us are going to my house to sleep whatever is happening here, off.” 

At least, that's what Steve thought he heard. It was a pretty un-Eddie like speech, and Steve maybe, might have been the one to say it, because he maybe, might have been mocking what Eddie had actually said.

Maybe.

It was hard to know, given that Steve’s thoughts were a thick soup on a bit of a time delay, and he was having a hard time figuring up from down, let alone what Eddie had been actually saying. 

Speaking of; 

 “When did I get into your car?” Steve asked, blinking as the van’s passenger seat appeared before him.

“Just now.” Eddie said, helping him in.

“Huh.” Said Steve, and then he maybe passed out a bit, because once again, he found himself awake and alert at a place that wasn’t where he’d just been. 

“Come on.” Eddie said gently, one of Steve’s arms over his shoulder as Steve leaned heavily into him, guiding the jock up the stairs and into the small house he and Wayne now called a home. 

The guy might have muttered a few things about bachelor parties along the way, but Steve was too focused on walking straight to really take notice. 

Part Two

#lol remember when I said I wasnt posting parts to stuff until they were finished #THAT SURE LASTED LONG #pre steddie #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #0o0 fanfics #This is very Steve focused #TW his horrible parents #VERY hurt #comforts later #with eddie! #I really wanted to explore Steves Parents #in proper Rich Asshole Controling fashion #TW forced marriage #or mentions of #I also wanted to explore a lot of how the kids #and Nancy and Robin (who are also STILL kids #would react because sure they came up against monsters and the government #but neither of those things want you to like them #theyll let you know theyll eat you #Steves parents #like many rich dicks #want to isolate #want you to think theyre amazing #and its often the inner circle who knows whats up but are also caught in their own chokechain #hence the title of this fic #whiiiich is chokechain #stranger things #tw drinking

[metalhoops]

‘Of course, I remember you.’ 

As far as first words go, Eddie’s were a hell of a head-scratcher. 

To catch up the uninitiated, everyone in the world has a soulmate. It’s been debated and speculated if a person can have more than one, but the mechanics behind soulmates was a pseudo-science at best and downright magic at worst. The first words a person’s soulmate spoke to them were inscribed somewhere on that person’s body, typically in their soulmate’s handwriting. 

Doesn’t handwriting change over time? The uninitiated might ask, to which Eddie would repeat, it’s pseudo-science or magic. Either that or something like quantum mechanics, where people are pretty sure, one day we’ll understand how it works, but right now there are a lot of theories and only a little bit of evidence, most of which contradicts itself.

Most of the time, the words are boring and wholly unhelpful. He could count on two hands the number of people that simply had some variation of ‘hello’, tattooed somewhere on their body. From Eddie’s point of view, he got lucky. 

He had a sentence of scratchy scrawl written on his inner arm stating, ‘of course, I remember you’. And really, what the hell was Eddie meant to make of that? 

Typically, your tattoo lets you know you’d found your soulmate upon first meeting, but his words implied he’d meet his soulmate before they first speak and that it would be memorable. Wasn’t that goddamn frustrating? 

His soulmate’s first words were right up there with ‘hello’ in Eddie’s list of ‘top five worse soulmate marks,’ because how the hell were those poor bastards meant to know if they’d just met the love of their life or if it was just their weird neighbour Tom? With his number one spot reserved for Gareth’s truly horrific, ‘I’d thought you’d be taller’. His soulmate was original. He’d give him that. 

There was no surefire way to know your soulmate’s gender, same as there was no surefire way for a mother to ‘just know’ a baby’s gender before it was born. Yet if Eddie was being sacrilegious, as he so often was, he’d say he ‘just knew’ his soulmate was a guy. 

There was nothing in the handwriting that gave it away. Nothing particularly ‘feminine’ or ‘masculine’ about the lettering. But ever since Eddie was a kid whenever he thought about his soulmate, he’d always think of them as ‘him’. 

He would like this or that. He wouldn’t be an asshole, like the meathead jocks at Hawkins. He would be different. He’d be kind, caring, and of course, a total badass. Eddie just had to wait to meet him. 

Steve’s soulmate mark drove him crazy. 

‘You might not remember me’. 

What the hell was Steve meant to do with that? Soulmate tattoos were meant to let you know when you’d met your soulmate, not that you’d already met them. In the days before Steve received the shake-up of his life in the form of Nancy Wheeler and the Upside Down, he had a reputation for sleeping around. He knew back then he’d been a little hopeless, but surely he’d said more than a couple of words to a girl before he slept with them. 

It horrified Steve that he could meet his soulmate, in some respect, know them, and yet had never talked to them. Could he really be that much of a jerk?

He’d never thought Nancy was his soulmate. He knew their words didn’t match up. That didn’t mean he loved her any less. Statistically, the odds of meeting your soulmate were somewhere between getting crushed by a vending machine and winning the lottery. Steve’s parents weren’t soulmates and boy did that show, but a guy could dream. Call him a hopeless romantic, but Steve was holding out hope for them. 

He’d almost thought his soulmate was Robin. It fit, right? They went to the same school, but they’d never really talked. He’d been so busy with his first day at a real job, he’d missed Robin’s first words to him. It wasn’t until later he’d started to expect it might be her. That was, until the pair were huddled beside each other on the floor of a bathroom stall. Robin was a lesbian and her first words, although interesting, definitely proved they weren’t soulmates. 

When Steve was a kid, he’d spend hours daydreaming about what his soulmate would be like. She’d be outspoken. She’d be bold. She’d be able to make him laugh. When he’d gotten older, something changed. He didn’t know how to put it into words, at least not ones he was ready to say out loud. ‘She’ didn’t fit his soulmate quite right. So after high school, he started wondering what ‘they’ would be like. ‘They’ felt not quite right, but closer. 

Their handwriting was distinct. It was all sharp-edges and odd-angles. It looked like it was trying to replicate something Steve couldn’t quite place until he walked into the record store at Starcourt and caught a glimpse of an Iron Maiden album cover. That gave Steve his first real clue as to what his soulmate might be like. 

It would be another year before the same handwriting would stop him in his tracks. Dustin had marched into the Family Video store as they were shutting up shop, brandishing a notepad and talking about needing a ride to go play his fantasy game. Steve was always going to drive Dustin, but he’d been dragging his feet, to show the kid he wouldn’t always drop everything to take him places. A familiar sharp edged, odd angled handwriting stopped Steve cold. 

“What are those?” Steve asked, trying to fain disinterest as his heart pounded in his ears. 

“They’re notes from the last session. You know, so we can keep track of what’s happened so far in the campaign. Who’s doing what quests, how many hit points everyone’s got. Mike is currently—.” Steve couldn’t give a crap about Mike. 

“Who’s writing is it?” Steve tried not to sound as desperate as he felt. 

Robin must have known something was up because she moved to Steve’s side. With one glance at the notepad, she understood why Steve was acting so strangely. She’d seen his tattoo, she knew it was his soulmate’s handwriting. 

“Our D.M.’s” Dustin replied. He might as well have been speaking in freaking code. 

“Alright, I’ll drive you,” Steve gave in, hoping he could catch a glance of his soulmate. Maybe his tattoo was wrong, maybe he’d know his soulmate when he saw them. 

They pulled up outside of the high school. He saw a group of people loitering outside the auditorium. Dustin had brought a lot of loose sheets of paper, so it only made sense Steve helped him carry his notebooks in. Most of the people there were familiar faces, the kids he’d babysat with a few exceptions. 

“Well, if it isn’t our favourite bard. I’m glad you decided to grace us with your presence,” an oh-too-familiar voice crooned. A boy broke away from the crowd to meet Dustin. 

He was Steve’s age. They’d gone to school together. The dude used to do all these weird soap-box sessions on their lunch table. They had gym together, and history. Steve didn’t think the two had ever actually spoken.  

“I would’ve been here quicker if I hadn’t had to play twenty questions with Steve. Steve, you know Eddie, our D.M.? Weren’t you two in the same year?” 

Eddie was practically shooting daggers at Dustin’s side profile, shaking his head discreetly as though hoping Steve didn’t remember who he was. He supposed Eddie always had a reputation. 

“You might not remember me,” Eddie spoke before Steve could answer. 

Holy shit.

“Of course, I remember you,” Steve argued and watched as Eddie’s eyes swelled to the size of dinner plates. 

Both boys stood, slack-jawed and stiff-shouldered, peering at one another. Steve’s brain short-circuited, because holy shit, Eddie Munson was his soulmate. Holy shit he’d found them, him. 

Steve dropped Dustin’s notes and swarmed forward without thinking, throwing his arms around Eddie. Much to his surprise, instead of freaking out, like any normal person, Eddie was waiting to catch him, leaving both of them to tumble ass backwards onto the parking lot asphalt.

They held each other in a bone-crushing hug. Steve buried his face in Eddie’s neck, surprised at how naturally the action came. He’d never hugged a man like this, hell he’d hugged no one like this. He was clinging so desperately to the man that he’d never thought he’d really find. Eddie pulled back slightly, trying to get a better look at Steve’s face. The guy’s eyes were alight with wonder and mischief. 

“That was quite an entrance, Harrington. All for little old me?” 

“I’ve been looking for you forever,” Steve admitted. 

“Well, clearly you’ve been doing a shit job of it,” Eddie argued which earned a snort from Steve. His soulmate would be able to make him laugh. 

“You’re not disappointed, you know? That your soulmate is the town Freak?” 

Steve had given up on caring about labels, on caring about what other people thought. Since high school, he had changed. He was different.  He didn’t want to be just another, shallow, meathead jock. He wanted to be different. 

“No. Absolutely not. Why would I care?” 

Dustin shattered the moment, clearing his throat and proclaiming,

“Alright, anyone care to tell me what the hell just happened?” 

#steddie #steddie ficlet #fictlet #drabble #steddie drabble #obligatory soulmate au #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #stranger things au #stranger things 4 #steveddie #I love reading soulmate aus #but I've never written one #so first time for everything #metalhoops writes

[goldsbitch]

Just don't talk----

-and please bite me like you did before.

p5 to Just don't talk

summary: Enemies to lovers on steroids. Lando is so bored at a gala event that he overcomes his grudge and makes a request he never expected to make.

warnings: not for minors, cursing, biting kink, typos!!! not checked yet

It was yet another of the FIA gala events that were not to be missed by the drivers. Not even if they wanted to, which was something that Lando had wanted to opt for. But no, he was told specifically to be there - and he didn't respond well when somebody was ordering him around. Unless it was a girl in his bedsheets, especially one specific girl. 

She was sat quite a few seats away from him, which he found to be a relief. He was still mad at her - either at her being a super calculating bitch or at her not having a grip on her own team. Nevertheless, he was still pissed, not planning on going back to fooling around with her and risking his career. She made him mad. The way she just sat there, laughing, looking all cute and innocent. As if she really was. Only he knew how she liked to dominate him in bed, how wild she was and how far from innocent she could be. 

It made him furious. Why did she had be such a bitch? Also, why were all of of the people he was sat close to someone so annoyingly dull? He considered that to be a crime. The worst thing one could do - be boring. 

It must have been a 50th joke he had to pretend to laugh at. At this point, all he wanted to do was to escape. But he was mad, mad at the fact he had to waste time here, angry that this was one of the things that he had to endure in order to have this job and furious that she was flirting with some random executive from a sponsor. As if that guy was in any way a match to him. He wasn't fit, attractive and from the little of what he heard, he was far from funny. Plus, what had he done for Y/N with regards to her regarding her career? Unlike Lando, this guy had done shit. 

My god, was he bored. He couldn't stand one more remark from the guy sitting opposite to him. He had to get out. Fuck it all, he said internally, not being as sober as one should be at these events. 

"Come and meet me at the bathrooms," he texted to Y/N. He burned her with his look until she read the text. She looked puzzled and he just looked at her with a look that suggested she didn't really have a choice. So she nodded slightly and left few moments after him, not to raise any major attention.

She wasn't sure what this was about. Still had their last argument in fresh memory and was not looking forward to living it all over again. But, she felt obligated to at least go and talk to him. She was taken back a lot, when the mood she was met with once she found him in one of the men's stalls was not a look of anger. 

"I want you to bite me again," he stated simply, as it was the most normal thing in the world. 

"What?" she asked, puzzled. Shock wave ran through her. 

He ached from the inside. Needed a hit of any excitement available - and she was the best one out of all of them. Not that he would ever admit it. 

"I'm bored. I'm so bored I'd rather be burning alive waiting in a never-ending line at the grocery store than get back to that table. I am fed up by mediocre conversation, people saying this and that, same shit all the time and I have to sit and smile at the right people. Bite, please" he said, eyes sending shockwaves towards her. She has seen lots of intense looks on him, but not this. It took her a bit by surprise.

"Don't tell me you're not bored out of your mind too. I see the way you look, so desperate for fun. I can show you fun." Without breaking the eye contact, he walked few steps towards her. "I know what you like," he knew she was super sensitive the first time he would touch her during their nightly sessions. Before she got used to his body temperature, she would always shiver a bit. Not from cold or warmth. But the feeling of his fingertips on her skin. With that thought, he slowly traced the line of her arm with a light touch, moving from elbow, to shoulder, where he did few circles and then as a cheeky fuck boy he was, he went for the top line of her dress, right where is covered her chest. 

"Bite me, come on. I like it," he said, putting his finger over her lips. She licked it slowly. "That's my girl." He was challenging her with his eyes, had the same look as her had right before a race. "Come on."

Something shifted in her, inhibitions gone away before she could say "stop". 

"Take your shirt off," she ordered without missing a beat. Lando bit his lips, smiling and began on working his shirt off. She just watched, not participating, calculating her move. She loved having his full attention. Knowing that he was waiting, even probably begging for her to do stuff to him. Oh, what a joy to have that kind of a power. 

His shirt was off and he was standing there, anticipating. She knew they had very little time before someone would come in and the risk of a scandal was too big. Yet, she wanted her moment. 

"Say it."

"What?"

"Please."

"Please." he whispered with a need that was so honest it made her wet. She closed their distance and kissed him hard. Her tongue danced with his, having a complete upper hand. Then she bit his lip, hard. He reacted immediately with a slight hiss. 

"That's not it, my dear," she said and swiftly bent down and put her mouth on a piece of flesh on the side of his waist. It was hard to avoid biting into a muscle on his body, she felt like this would serve good enough. And my god, did this send him to heavens. Her teeth digging to his skin, pain shooting through his left side and all the good emotions coming with it. He gave her a rather loud sign when the pain was too much and she stopped immediately. That was when the emotions started really running in Lando. The same cocktail as last time, but now he was ready and looked forward to taking it all in. The pain shifting into adrenaline, relief and dopamine hitting the right spots. He didn't even notice the sound he made when she released her grip.

She watched him, like an artist would observe his favorite muse. Obsessed with him. How he reacted. How he took pleasure in. She would fuck him right then and there, but sadly, reason stopped her. Also, she wanted to maintain the cool aura this got her. Just feel a little cooler. So she walked away, leaving him with his newly forming bruise alone. 

He felt her bite all evening, whenever he turned over to discretely glance over to her, he felt a little tingle in his left side, leaving his constantly reminded of the little slut he was for this girl.

part 6

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@scopeiguess @leclercsluv @sulliamour

#lando norris #lando norris smut #lando norris smau #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #biting kink #lando norris fanfic #ln4 imagine #formula 1 #formula one x reader #lando norris x Y/N #f1 fanfic #formula 1 fluff #formula 1 fanfic #ln4 x reader #ln4 x y/n #lando norris x y/n #f1 smut #smut #f1 imagine #f1 social media au #ln4 fic #let me bite you #love bites

[thetriumphantpanda]

where you want your gift, girl? | Joel Miller

Summary | It’s your birthday and Joel, knowing it’s not your favourite celebration, is keen to show you that it‘s not always going to be a bad day, not if he can help it.

Warnings | birthdays, allusions to strained parental relationships, food & alcohol consumption, smoking of (1) cigarette, no/pre-outbreak AU, gift giving, explicit smut, rough sex, choking/breath play, brief spit play, oral sex (F Receiving), safe unprotected sex, dirty talk, creampie, cumplay, literally just filth tbh, no use of y/n.

Word Count | 4.2K

Authors Note | Honestly? It’s my birthday today and all I want is for Joel Miller to fucking rail me to celebrate - we can’t have everything we want I suppose, so we’ll have to deal with writing our fantasies instead! Happy Birthday to me - Enjoy!

Masterlist | Ko-Fi

You’d never really enjoyed birthdays. Other people’s, sure. The opportunity to treat your friends and make other people happy was something you’d always loved, but when it was you as the centre of attention, you almost hated it. The way people would train their eyes on you as you opened their gifts, the anxiety that you felt not knowing what it would be and whether you’d have to pretend it was the best thing in the world when you could think of a million things you needed above what they’d given you. It always made you feel ungrateful. Birthdays aren’t as exciting as you get older either, just another reminder of how far behind the rest of your friends you are, how little you seemed to have accomplished next to them in the same amount of years. 

It was no different this year, not really. Your mother had phoned you before you’d gone to work, asked if you received the card she’d sent in the post that had the customary $100 stuffed into it, before chiding you for not doing as you said you would last time you spoke and find a new job, something more challenging, related to that degree you’d spent all her money on. You sigh and hang up the phone before she can say anything else, a mumbled sorry that you were running late but thank you for the card. 

The only saving grace for your birthday this year was the fact it was a Friday, so you didn’t have to worry about drinking too much beer and having to go to work the next morning with a hangover. To their credit, your work colleagues had been quite nice to you - they’d pooled together to get you a gift card for you to spend on whatever you’d like, and Sandra from accounts had made you a birthday cake – red velvet because it was your favourite. Once everyone had eaten a slice, she put a Tupperware on your desk with two more generous slices in it, winking at you before walking away. 

“For your handsome boyfriend.” She’d said, giggling as she walked away. 

There was another saving grace for your birthday, you supposed. Joel Miller. Who had burst into your life in a whirlwind eight months ago when his beautiful daughter had spilled her hot chocolate all over your crisp new shirt in her hurry to get to the table so she could drink it. He’d been the most apologetic you ever thought you’d seen a man, helping you to wipe the worst of it off with napkins whilst Sarah profusely apologised next to you. You’d put a comforting hand on her shoulder, told her it was okay, and that you understood entirely, you’d have been as excited as her to drink hot chocolate with whipped cream and marshmallows. Joel had insisted on paying for your dry cleaning, something you’re pretty sure only ever happened in films, and when you’d phoned him to tell him it really had been a minimal amount, he’d asked to take you to dinner instead, and the rest really was history. 

He’s phoning you now, his name popping up on the front screen of your phone, you smile as you answer it. 

“Hello, handsome.” You greet. 

“Good afternoon,” His southern drawl hits your ears, “Happy birthday, my darlin’ girl.” 

God, he makes you so happy, “Thank you, cowboy.” 

“You want me to pick you up and take you for dinner?” He asks, “Tommy is gonna look after Sarah tonight, so I’m all yours, whatever you wanna do.” 

You think for a second, sure, dinner out is a nice idea, but it’s been a long week, and you think what you want most is to be at home with him, “You think you could grill me a steak and let me drink beer on your couch instead?” You ask, slightly embarrassed that this is all you want for your birthday. 

“If that’s what you want, darlin’, then I’ll grill you the best steak of your life,” He chuckles, and then you can hear him cover the phone and speak to Sarah, who must be just back from school, “Sarah wants to speak to you real quick.” 

He passes the phone and it’s Sarah’s sweet voice that greets you next, “Happy birthday!” 

“Thank you, honey,” You smile, “You looking forward to some time with your Uncle Tommy?” 

“He’s gonna take me to the movies,” You can hear the grin on her face, “I already heard dad telling him not to feed me too much candy, but he never listens,” You chuckle, “I got you a present,” She speaks again, “I gave it to dad so you can open it later.” 

“Ahhh you sweet girl,” You coo, “I’m sure I’ll love it,” You reassure, “And I’ll be there tomorrow so I can thank you in person.” 

“Alright,” She replies, “Dad wants the phone back, but have a nice birthday with him!” 

You say goodbye to her, and then Joel tells you he’ll be waiting for you when you finish to bring you home. It’s only two hours until the end of the day, but you struggle to focus on the emails you’ve got to answer – you get through as few as is acceptable before the end of the day, logging out at exactly 5:30pm, box of cake clutched in your hand, handbag slung over your shoulder as you head out. 

Joel is leaning against the side of his truck, arms crossed over his chest so his biceps are bulging in the flannel he’s wearing, he’s also got one of his ankles crossed over the over. He looks so casual but as devastatingly handsome as he always is. He slips an arm around your waist when you’re close enough, pushing his palm into your lower back to press your body to his, dipping down to press his lips to yours. He’s gentle with it, opening his mouth against yours so he can slip his tongue into your mouth, letting his tongue meld with your own, kissing you slowly, like he’s got all the time in the world. 

“Get a room, you two!” It’s Sandra from accounts. 

Joel pulls away just enough to laugh against your lips, pressing his to yours once more before pulling away properly, opening the car door for you to get in, pressing a light swat of his hand to your ass as you hoist yourself up into the truck. 

Once he’s slipped into the driver's side and settled one of his hands on your upper thigh, he starts the drive from the city out to his house. It’s a quiet drive, Joel’s humming along to whatever is playing on the radio, you’re occupied with looking out the window. This is what you love about Joel, that he’ll sit in silence, won’t feel the need to make you talk, it makes you feel comfortable, knowing that he’s there when you need him, but he’s not going to force you to speak when you don’t want to. 

He’s pulled into the drive in no time, picking up the grocery bags from the backseat. You try and peak inside to see what he’s bought; you’re hoping he’s got the ingredients to make those mashed potatoes you like, and mushrooms that he’ll cook on the grill too. 

When he opens the door, you’re almost overwhelmed by the sight that greets you. There are gold and black balloons littering the floor, with one bigger helium balloon, weighted down so it doesn’t float along the ceiling, set in the corner with big ‘happy birthday’ lettering written on it. There’s a birthday banner pinned to the wall, and a selection of wrapped gifts on the coffee table. You have a sneaking suspicion that most of this is Sarah’s doing.

You giggle a little as Joel presses himself against your back, kissing at your neck, “How much of this was Sarah?” You ask, following him through to the kitchen. 

“She blew up all those balloons before she went to bed last night, and she did all the wrapping, but the banner and the big balloon, that was all me, baby.” 

You press your lips to his cheek, smiling as he starts unloading the grocery bags. Two ribeye steaks, and just like you wanted, mushrooms to grill, and potatoes to mash. He leaves you in charge of watching the potatoes whilst he grills the rest of the food outside. Whilst it’s resting, he mashes the potatoes with enough butter to clog your arteries, but when you sit at the table, and those potatoes are in your mouth, you can’t find it in you to care - it’s your birthday after all. 

“Everythin’ alright, baby?” He asks, cutting into his steak.

“It’s perfect,” You grin, spearing a grilled mushroom onto your fork, “Better than sitting in a stuffy restaurant anyway.” 

You finish your food in relative silence. Joel insists on doing the dishes even if he did most of the cooking, before he’s leading you back to the living room. 

Joel sits you down on the couch, treading as carefully as he can through the trail of balloons to get you a fresh beer. He kneels down on the floor between you and the coffee table, taking a glug of his beer, before reaching across the table for the first gift, setting it in your lap. 

“That one is from Sarah,” He explains, “She made me promise you would open it first.” 

“Rules are rules,” You shrug with a chuckle, carefully tearing open the wrapping paper. 

When you pull the paper from the material it was wrapped in you feel overwhelmed. It’s the exact same blouse that Sarah had tipped her hot chocolate over, just in black instead of white. The shirt had been a write off from the start, the chocolate leaving a stain that even the dry cleaner couldn’t get out. 

“She saved her pocket money for months to buy this,” He murmurs, pinching the silky fabric between his fingers, “Said if it was what brought us together, she wanted you to be able to wear it.” 

You can feel tears prickling at your eyes as you fold the material up carefully, “She’s such a special girl, Joel.” You whisper, watching as Joel leans back over the table to pick up another gift. 

“This one’s from Tommy.” He murmurs, handing you the largest box on the table. 

You rip the paper off and open the box, revealing an actual cowboy hat. You laugh, because Tommy has always said in order to properly fit in, you’d need a cowboy hat. Joel reaches into the box, pulling the brown Stetson out of its box, placing it on your head. 

“Suits you, cowgirl,” He growls, leaning under the brim of the hat to kiss you, nibbling your bottom lip as he pulls away, “Keep it on.” He demands when you go to take it off. 

“He didn’t need to get me a gift,” You mutter as Joel moves the two final gifts towards you, “And it’s a proper Stetson, this must have cost a fortune.” 

“Not that it matters, because everyone in this household thinks the world of you, but he thrifted it, mainly because you’ve rubbed off on him and he thinks getting a pair of Levi’s for half price because someone doesn’t want them anymore is the best thing since sliced bread.” 

You tilt the hat on your head a little so you can see under the brim, as he hands you an envelope this time, “These are from me.” 

You open the envelope and pull out a postcard with a from New Orleans. You turn the card over, Joel’s handwriting scrawled on the back. 

“Pack a bag baby, and let me take you away.” 

“Are you for real?!” You exclaim, “You’re going to take me to New Orleans?!” 

“Course I am, darlin’ girl,” He grins, “I know you’ve always wanted to go, and we’ve never been away together.” 

“Are you even real?” You ask, wiping your tears away, because you’re overwhelmed, no-one has ever been so thoughtful. 

“Last time I checked I was,” He chuckles, taking the postcard from your hands, replacing it with the last gift, a small box, “Go on, last one.” 

You take it from his hand, tearing the paper off it to reveal a small box. You open it, and sat inside is a silver necklace, a silver hoop, entwined with a smaller hoop. You’d recognise this anywhere. You’d spotted it in the window of the jewellery shop downtown. You’d spend so long looking at it in the window before deciding you couldn’t afford it, yet here it is, in your hands. 

“Joel,” You breathe, running your fingers over the delicate silver, “This is too much.” 

He presses a single finger to your lips to shut you up, holding his hand out for the box, taking the necklace out as he pushes himself up onto the couch, putting the delicate chain across your neck, “Do you like it?” He asks from behind you, mouth right at your ear, breath hot on your skin.

You turn around, wrapping your arms around his neck, feeling your hat fall off your head as he returns the embrace, “I love it Joel,” You murmur into the skin of his neck, “I love you.”

“I love you too, darlin’ girl.” 

You spend the rest of the evening curled up on the couch together. You eat the slices of cake that Sandra had sent you home with, drink more beer, Joel even sits with his guitar outside, playing some of your favourite songs whilst you smoke a cigarette. When the sun has fully set and you’ve let out a particularly loud yawn, Joel closes up the house, takes hold of your hand, and takes you to bed. 

You’re led against the sheets, getting yourself comfortable, when Joel comes back from the bathroom, leaning against the door with his thumb resting on his belt. He’s lookin at you with those deep, coffee-coloured orbs as you turn onto your side, propping your head up on your palm to look at him. 

“How do you want it, baby?” He smirks, taking slow steps towards the bed. 

You take your bottom lip between your teeth, because that is a very good question. Do you want him to be soft and slow like he had been that first time? So concerned he was going to hurt you with his size and strength that he refused to go any harder or faster than was strictly necessary? Or the time he made love to you after you’d looked after Sarah when he had to work late. When he’d walked into his house and found you painting her nails for her, watching a film that he’d never had sat through, his heart bursting with so much love that he had to push it all into you, whispering promises into your ear as he did so. No, you think, that’s not what you want right now. 

“I want you to fuck me, cowboy,” You rasp, “Hard.” 

He’s stood at the foot of the bed now, eyes dark with lust, “Well, what the birthday girl wants,” He murmurs softly, wide, warm palm clasping around your ankle, “The birthday girl gets.” 

He tugs at your ankle, pulling you down the bed in one swoop, your legs dangling over the edge as his fingers work the button of your work trousers loose. You lift your hips up so he can drag them, and your underwear off your body, before he tugs you into a sitting position to work your blouse over your head. Your palms cup his face as you kiss him, your lips giving attention to his plush bottom lip as his hands reach behind you and work the clasp of your bra undone, dragging that off your body so you’re finally bared naked to him. 

He pulls back, trails his eyes over your naked body, before placing his hand on your chest, right between your breasts, pushing you back down onto the bed. He trails his hands down the expanse of your sides, coming to the meat of your thighs as he settles his face between them. Normally this is where he’d tease you, use that mouth to trail soft kisses up and down the inside of your thighs, stopping to nip at the soft skin every once in a while, but he surprises you tonight. 

Joel uses the flat of his tongue to lick a single stripe up the seam of your pussy. Then, he takes his hands, puts them on the backs of your thighs to push your legs back towards you, spreading them open further, baring the entirety of your spread, aching cunt to his face, before that tongue of his is diving into you, licking the slick that has been slowly gathering there from you, groaning at your taste. He drags his tongue up to your clit, using the tip of it to lightly flick at your clit, which has a quiet whimper leaving your lips as you tangle your fingers in his soft curls to keep his head anchored right where it is. 

You’ve never really known a man quite as enthusiastic about eating your pussy as Joel Miller. The way he groans into your cunt as he laps at you, the way his fingers dig bruises into your skin as he holds your legs open for him, it all adds to the way he has your teetering on the edge of your first orgasm of the night in minutes. You’re bucking your hips into his face, chasing that burst of pleasure you know is so close to you. 

You can hear the obscene sounds from him, the way he sucks your clit into his mouth, rolls his tongue over it before letting it go with a pop, or the way he literally slurps the slick from your entrance. It’s when he slips two of his fingers inside your slick cunt that you’re really done for – fingers stretching you open, a poor substitute for what’s to come, but it’s good none-the-less. 

All of a sudden, that fiery burst of pleasure is setting your skin alight. Your body is arching off the bed, pushing your cunt further into Joel’s face as he sucks your clit through your orgasm. You can feel yourself clenching around his fingers as you let out as high-pitched shriek of his name as your body wracks with pleasurable aftershocks. You lie there, warm and pliant as Joel stands once he’s worked you through your orgasm. He takes off his shirt, and you marvel at that body, the one you get to enjoy, broad and strong for his work, but soft around the middle, just like you love. He’s looking you directly in the eye as he undoes the button on his jeans, belt from earlier seemingly lost in the bathroom before. You’re smirking as he drags his jeans and boxers down his legs, stepping out of them, stood before you in all his God damn glory. 

He is, quite possibly, the most handsome man you’ve ever seen. Especially when he’s got his cock gripped in his fist, pumping himself as you spread your legs for him, pushing yourself up the bed so he can settle between your thighs. 

You can feel the throbbing length of him slipping between your soaked folds as he finds a position, he’s comfortable with. You’re the one that reaches down between you and lines his cock up with your aching core, but it’s all Joel when he thrusts himself inside you, right to the hilt, in one go. He’s leaning forward, head rested in the crook of your neck, your name hissed out into your ear as he adjusts to the tight clench of your cunt. Your nails are already digging into the meat of his biceps when he drags himself out of you, before slamming back in. 

He revels in the way his rough thrusts make your tits bounce, dipping his head to take one of your nipples into his mouth, gently nipping at the puckered bud with his teeth before soothing it with the pad of his tongue. He laves the same attention to the other, never once letting up the pace of his hips. 

“This what you wanted, darlin’ girl?” He chokes out, looking down at you writhing in pleasure beneath him. 

“More.” You gasp, hand reaching to grab at his wrist which is planted by the side of your head, propping him up. 

He puts most of his weight on his other hand, letting you drag his other palm to the delicate column of your throat, where the sheer size of his hand covers it in its entirety. He rests it there for a moment, continuing to pound his cock into your pussy, but then he’s adding pressure to the side of your throat, giving you that delicious dizzy feeling to your brain, before he’s releasing the pressure. You’re grinning up at him, moaning his name as his hips continue to slam into your own. 

“Like that, don’t ya?” He asks, “God you look so fuckin’ good with my hand around your throat, pretty girl.” 

“Always fuck me so good, Joel,” You cry out when he shifts his position slightly, cock brushing that sweet spot inside you, “Do it again.”

So he does, he squeezes his fingers around your throat again, your mouth dropping open as a crazed giggle leaves your mouth. You wish you could step outside your body right now and watch, watch what the two of you look like – his hand around your throat, the way he’s pounding into you so hard you’re sure you’ll be sore in the morning. 

You’re both breathing heavily as he trails the hand that was around your throat to grip at your jaw. He squishes your cheeks together, pursing your lips as his mouth claims your own, growling into you as his tongue licks at yours. He’s so fucking overwhelming right now, thick cock splitting you in two, strong body laid across your own, mouth on yours, and it’s still not enough. You want to peel his skin off and climb inside him, let him consume you whole. 

Joel pulls back, hand still on your jaw. 

“You my pretty girl, huh?” He asks, and you can only nod, his hand stopping you from talking, “Belong to me, right?” 

His hand goes back down to grip your throat, gently though, with no pressure, so you can talk to him now. 

“All yours Joel,” You purr at him, “Only ever gonna be yours.” 

“Open your mouth,” He demands, using his hand to gently shake you, so you do, “Stick your tongue out.” 

You do just that, staring straight into his eyes as he leans down, ever so slightly, and spits into your mouth. It’s warm, wet and utterly filthy, and you think it’s the entire reason that you can feel your slick dripping down onto his sheets now. Joel doesn’t even give you the time to swallow, chasing the saliva he’s just put into your mouth with his tongue, giving you the sloppiest kiss you’ve ever received. 

“Fuck,” He spits out, pulling back from your mouth, “Ain’t gonna last much longer, darlin’ girl,” He confesses, those rough thrusts slowing ever so slightly, “Put your hand on your clit for me, let’s do this one together.”

Your hand slinks between your bodies, seeking out that sensitive bud, still reeling from the orgasm he pulled from you, it doesn’t take much work from your fingers to have you teetering on the edge, but you want to do this together, you have to hold on for him. 

“Where d’ya want it?” Joel chokes out as your pussy flutters around him. 

“Inside,” Comes your begging plea to him, “Come inside me, Joel.” 

Your work your fingers across your clit a few more times before you’re coming around his cock, the nails of your free hand digging half-moon shapes into the meat of his shoulder. He manages three, maybe four more thrusts before he’s stilling inside of you, grunting out your name as the white-hot spurt of his spend fills your aching cunt. He fills you up so perfectly, holding himself there for a moment before he lets out a slightly pained sound, pulling himself out of your pussy. 

He sits back on his knees, watching the white trickle of him cum seep from your spent hole. He takes one of his fingers, scooping his cum on it before bringing it to your lips, where you suck it into your mouth, running your tongue over it to catch every bit of the taste of him. He falls forward, forehead pressed to your own, kissing your lips softly, before he moves to lie on his side of the bed. 

You push yourself up into a sitting position, leaning over to kiss him softly, mumbling that you’ll be back in a minute as you pad to the bathroom to clean up. When you come back to his room, he’s already under the covers, your side pushed back and waiting for you, so you clamber in, seeking out his torso under the covers so you can wrap your arm around him. He pulls you flush to his body, slick and warm from sweat, but you don’t care. 

His arm is draped across your shoulder, his fingers tracing slow and soft across your skin, as he presses a kiss to the crown of your head.

“Happy birthday, darlin’ girl.” He whispers to you as he turns out the light. 

“Best birthday ever,” You mumble softly against his chest as you let your heavy eyes closed, “All because of you, cowboy.” 

#Joel Miller #Joel Miller smut #Joel Miller fluff #joel miller one shot #joel miller imagine #joel miller fic #Joel Miller fanfic #Joel Miller fanfiction #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #Joel Miller x female reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x y/n #The Last Of Us #The Last Of Us HBO #tlou #tlou hbo #joel the last of us #Joel tlou #tlou fic #tlou smut #joel miller tlou #tlou fanfiction #the last of us fic #the last of us smut #the last of us fanfiction #tlou fanfic #the last of us fanfic

[whispereons]

Oracle!Reader Part 17

Masterlist - Part 1, Part 16, Part 18

PSA: I'm going to go through my followers and report + block porn bots. Porn bots look like users who have nothing posted. So if you don't want to be blocked please put at least one post saying that you are human.

Warning! This has your good old violence! This is a SAGAU imposter au so this to be expected.

The ice in your calves throbbed as spikes of pain fried the nerves every time you shifted into a better position. That's not even counting how the arrow in your chest jostled and wedged deeper into your skin.

"Let's start with some easy questions, yeah? Like your name, date of birth, and occupation."

You wished Yelan would just ask the important questions only. It would make your life so much easier. Who knows what information you could give her here that unknowingly connects to what they know about the 'Creator'.

Yelan's expression turns neutral before she steps closer. Your body tenses in preparation before she grabs your hair to pull your head up. Hissing in pain, you glare at her with animosity.

"Don't overestimate your body, Y/N." She drawl's as if speaking to a child. "I could just remove this pretty little mask and bring you back to Liyue for those with... more experience to handle."

Was it a natural thing for Hydro users to threaten you with torture? The thought makes you wanna laugh but you gasp in pain instead as she releases your hair harshly.

You didn't have time to be a smartass. Your mask being removed was the worst thing that could happen. The only question was, should you admit to being an Oracle or not?

"My name, as you already know, is Y/N. I don't have a last name, or maybe I do and I don't remember it. Same situation with my birthday, I just celebrate it whenever I feel like it."

Genshin always sends you a gift in the mail when it's your birthday. It's a good guess that everyone knows your birthday, having the same birthday would be suspicious. What if it's like your face in which no one else can share the same birthday with you? Far-fetched but better safe than sorry.

"I'm an adventurer who signed up a few days ago. I have my handbook and commission list to prove it if you want to check."

There was a chance she knew about your Oracle job from when you had to stay at the Teahouse, but you won't offer that bit of information unless she specifically asks for it. Far too many of your own victims on Earth screwed themselves over when they revealed things only to learn you were shooting in the dark.

"Quite the convenient story. No last name or set date of birth means you must be from one of the villages. Name it."

Yelan gets comfortable resting against a tree as Shenhe stands close to you with a cold glare. The questions were still easy but you didn't want to be stuck here any longer. You needed an escape.

"I was born in Inazuma, one of the less-tamed islands called Kannzaku. But after the recent war, all the people that were still living either died or left. I chose to leave as well."

Yelan hums at that, you aren't sure if she truly believes it or if she's just making a mental note to look into it later.

"Then how did you manage to catch the Alcor of all ships to bring you here? They aren't one to take passengers along easily."

Has she been watching that early on or did she trace your path that far back? If so, she may even gain information about your time in Inazuma. Best to keep everything aligned with the most public knowledge.

"The Yashiro Commission helped me find a ship. I don't see how my upbringing in Inazuma has to do with whatever reason you have for attacking me."

Flexing your feet, you try to adapt to the pain. Yelan nor Shenhe were going to let you go even if you did answer everything correctly. That was a fact just based on how much trouble you gave them.

Yelan keeps a watchful eye on you as she stays silent. You know this tactic, you've used it before. Staying silent to make your hostage squirm and anger till they burst. That, or slowly die in place from any wounds.

This wasn't a problem for you. Every second you stood there in silence was just more and more time for you to get used to the pain. The arrow was too deep to remove, you would bleed out and become weaker so it'll have to stay stuck inside your skin.

Yelan and you could have gone all day, but Shenhe wasn't nearly as patient or stubborn.

"Ask your question and finish your job already, Yelan. If you take any longer then I'll just exterminate them." Shenhe moves to stand directly in front of you with her weapon raised.

She points it directly at Yelan. "And if you try to stop me, I'll kill you too."

Seems they aren't as in sync as you originally thought. 

Yelan sighs and moves from her spot. It seems even she knows better than to trifle with the bomb in the shape of a crane. The grass crunches beneath Yelan's heels as the trinkets on her jingle. 

Lifelines wrap around your wrists and waist and she pulls you forward. Nails dig into your skin through her gloves making you bite your tongue in slight pain. The pretty azure color is coated with crimson as emerald eyes stare into your soul.

"What's giving you the confidence to claim to be the Creator's oracle? If you don't repent and shed this flimsy mask, the Qixing will have you sacrificed in the city's center."

Your heart stops at those words as flashes of the sacrifices you witnessed in Inazuma come to mind. Taking off your mask would get you killed, but not taking it off would also get you killed. Torn between laughing and crying, you hated the fact that once again you were stuck in a ‘damned if you do, damned if you don’t’ situation.

Frowning at the strange expression on your face and the lack of confession, Yelan sighs with frustration and even a bit of hatred. “Not willing to speak even now, huh? Then my job is nearly done. Ningguang can deal with you instead, I’ll just reap my share of the rewards after you die.”

Patting your now bloody cheek condescendingly, she turns away from you. Her lips can be seen moving from her side profile but you could care less about what she's saying.

All you can focus on is the feeling of being talked down to. Being treated like a child, being treated like an idiot. The inner lining of your cheek begins to ache from how hard you're biting on it. 

Specific personas you've created and used in your work would include ditzy and dumb acts. The patronizing tone they would speak to you with was annoying but tolerable. But this? This?!

Lips curled into a snarl, you look up at the woman with a boiling glare matching your equally hot temper. Yelan's features seem to continuously morph and switch with a man who would speak to you in that exact same demeaning way.

"Where the hell do you get off speaking to me like this?" 

Yelan shuts her mouth but doesn't move her snobbish eyes off your form. Shenhe holds her polearm tighter as she keeps her eyes on you. Well aware of just how stupid, rash, and careless your next actions are, your brain tries to calm down.

But the moment you lift your bloody chin to look up, all you can see is condescending eyes taunting you.

"What the fuck is giving YOU the confidence to indirectly call yourself extraordinary by calling your deceased teammates 'ordinary folk'?! You only got to your position from the charity and sacrifices of other people!"

Breathing heavily from the anger and strain from yelling, you wipe the blood on your chin away. You were giving it your all to survive and weasel your way out of this situation. That's what you have done all throughout your time in Teyvat.

It wasn't fair, it wasn't right, it shouldn't be possible that all your efforts would be for naught from just one person. Everything you've worked at all this time, gone, just because Yelan and Ningguang couldn't mind their own fucking business.

"You can inflate your ego all you want with clever schemes and working solo but that doesn't take away from the fact that you would be dead without everyone around you. Your ancestry of heroes, Ningguang's patience and willingness to wait for you to train and move on from your friend. Even the lessons you learned on how you aren't invincible didn't seem to click until you lost your whole team!"

Grinning widely with malice and blood staining your teeth and lips crimson, you finished your jab. "You know? The same team you basically disowned and dissociated yourself from after they died. After all, you’d rather isolate yourself instead of properly acknowledging your team's talent and appreciate the life they lived no matter how short!"

Your mouth felt dry and all you could taste was copper. The shards in your calves were slowly melting making your legs. A vast contrast to the burning anger you harbored. But it seems you aren't the only one feeling this way.

Yelan hasn't moved from her spot but the look she has on her face is clear as day. Her neutral and taunting smile has dissolved into a murderous expression. Viridian eyes sharpen almost like an arrow and gritted teeth grind together. Your blood stains her blue gloves much like how you successfully stained her invincible reputation.

As good as it felt to get back at her, the slightest bit of guilt plagued you. That blow concerning her teammates was low, even if it was true. It's a bitter truth that she probably still struggles with. Living knowing that someone had to be sacrificed for your life pushed you to the brink more than once. Even still, you can't find it in yourself to take back those words, to apologize.

After all, you could never disregard the help and place your dad had in your life even with his early death.

The Hydro vision on Yelan's side glows as she takes long strides to your trapped form. No longer summoning her bow with flair, she points it at you. Bracing yourself with bent knees, you flex your fingers preparing to summon your sickle and escape the disadvantageous position.

"GRAH!"

A huge leaping rocky creature almost flattens Yelan who swiftly dodges by jumping backward.

"GRAW!" What you can now identify as a Geovishap roars loudly and slams his hulking fist onto the ground. The impact sends Yelan flying through the air and the ice trapping your feet shatters.

Not even allowed a second to enjoy your newfound freedom, Shenhe lunges either polearm poised at the ready. Grinning, your sickle clashes with her weapon as you shift to a more comfortable position.

Fighting both women would be impossible for you, they've trained for years. But it was still within your limits to defend and escape from one. Thanks to the Geovishap, you now have been granted that possibility.

The lingering shards of ice in your calves keep the blood somewhat clogged but the blood dribbling out down your ankle is uncomfortable. Ignoring it to the best of your abilities, you dig your shoes into the ground as your sickle repeatedly blocks her attacks.

The spear's minor side curve gets hooked onto your sickle leading to a stand-off. Planting your feet deeper into the ground, you focus on pushing against Shenhe as she does the same. Your arm strains with the force needed as Shenhe's full power begins to overpower you.

Not that you weren't expecting that.

Shenhe fought a god as a child and would have won if Cloud Retainer hadn't cut it short. She grew up in these mountains fighting, training, and eating whatever she was given. Cloud Retainer didn't raise a child, she groomed a soldier.

Your wounds ache as your body is pushed back. Inhuman strength wasn't something you ever encountered on Earth. This wasn't the city where you could pull a dirty trick and get away. Wasn't there anything else you could do?

Perhaps it was the determination you felt to stand your ground. Or maybe it was the desperation you felt to escape and live. You couldn't be completely sure as power mingled with your flesh, giving you a burst of energy.

The air grows cold and the ground shakes beneath your feet. The Electro wrapping around your sickle crackles louder, nearly masking the creaking of the ground. Geo petrifies the ground as it travels from your feet to hers.

A dark umber-colored stone traps her feet with cracks of topaz. Shenhe frowns and tries to rip her feet out but is stunned when it doesn't work. The petrify only moves to consume her body faster.

Knowing that you must be the only reason for the Geo, you take advantage of the newfound power. Breaking the grapple, you move out of her polearms range. Her braids loosen as she tries to lunge at you even with her torso completely petrified.

In some last-ditch effort to kill you, Shenhe holds her polearm in one hand and prepares to throw it at you. Not a moment sooner, the petrify entraps that hand locking it in place.

"Don't run away, demon!" Shenhe shouts in fury as her braid loosens. Her face is permanently etched as a harsh scowl and furrowed brows when the Geo overcomes her completely.

Not wanting to waste the precious and limited time you have, you turn on your heels and run away. In a split decision, you run to the left, the same direction where you first met Shenhe at that hilichurl camp.

Greenery and foliage are trampled on as you push past the burning pain. You pass the threshold of the stone and a large thud catches your attention from behind you.

Curious, you look back to see the Geovishap be pierced by Hydro projectiles. The blood and water splatter and mix on the ground as the Geovishap collapses. A weak gurgle of a roar is all that could be heard.

Glazed eyes holding no consciousness, no life, stare at your wide, sympathetic ones before crumbling into dust. A different pair of wrathful green eyes stare back at you instead.

There's no time to teleport. You couldn't fight in this state. Running was your sole option and your body moved on its own.

The river water dampens your shoes as you run, and the moonlight filters through the leaves of the trees above you. Slimes peer at you curiously as you avoid running into them. 

The only thing you could properly focus on was not tripping and not getting hit by the arrows raining down on you.

Between your honed instincts and Teyvat’s warnings, you manage to dodge the vast majority. Yelan wasn't in the position she is today without mastering her archery.

Pain and most likely a bruise bloom when her Hydro-infused arrow hits your shoulder. It's not deep so you quickly pull it out before it gets lodged like the one in your chest.

The chase is intense as your ragged breaths nearly mask the sound of her heels following you. More arrows cut your clothes and graze your skin. 

The sight of the red staining the cloth makes bitterness spread and fester deep within you.

Just why couldn't you bleed gold?

Now in Nantianmen, you pass by the hilichurl camp where you met Shenhe in. You must be getting closer to the ruins, maybe you could lose Yelan in the twists and turns of the rundown ruins.

But that plan quickly is thrown out the window when the only exit is a large drop-off, small broken ruins with broken ruin pieces serving as platforms on the large river. Treasure hoarders roam that area from what you remember.

To your right is a large mountain, climbable but no doubt time-consuming. On the left is where the ledge is. The only thing in front of you is a path leading to a boss, that you can’t be certain would recognize you or not. And above it would just be another cliff only serving to prolong the chase. 

Faced with the choice, the shallow water washes the crusting blood off your legs. Climb the mountain and be shot down by Yelan, or glide off the edge into Tianqiu Valley and be shot down by Yelan or the treasure hoarders.

Aren’t you spoiled for choice? 

That sarcastic thought is quickly swept away as you narrowly avoid an arrow that hits the water. Only sparing a glance behind you, you move to the side avoiding the follow-up arrow. The click of Yelan’s heels is replaced with the sloshing of water as she runs after you.

She dodges the Cryo that a large Cryo slime shoots at her as you back away with urgency. Before you can make a panicked split decision, a new Geovishap tackles her right into the Cryo slime.

The combo of being frozen and shattered seems to knock the wind out of Yelan as she falls onto the ground and slowly rises to her feet. The Cryo slimes, now with the addition of another that popped up out of nowhere and this new Geovishap, form a circle around Yelan.

The circle is tight and her soaked form only hinders her further. The wounds and bruises she sustained from the previous Geovishap are still visible. 

You recognize this as an opportunity to escape.

The sound of Yelan’s grunts and groans of pain as she’s thrown around out of sight are washed away as you pull the game screen up. It loads slowly but you aren’t too worried, Yelan is spent after chasing you and fighting so much today. 

Once the map is loaded, you quickly swipe to the statue of the seven. Selecting it you press the teleport button and wait. You wait with bated breath and expectant eyes to finally be free of this whole battle. Yet, as the screen stays the same and a whole minute passes by with no response, your heart pounds with fear.

Trying to deny the worst possibility you press the teleport button again. You press it again and again and again with no results. The sounds of the Cryo slimes being splattered onto the ground make you suck in a harsh breath.

In one last desperate attempt, you close the game screen and open it again. Repeating the same actions before with no difference in the result.

It’s refusing to work.

That revelation fills you with a mix of dread and a manic mess of anger combined with sadness. A disbelieving laugh escapes your mouth in a low tone before you sprint towards the closest escape option. There’s no more time to waste, the petrify is going or already has worn off and Yelan won’t be occupied with that Geovishap forever.

Your scratched-up and coarse fingers haphazardly grasp the grooves of the mountain to climb as fast as possible. It’s painful to put your body weight onto your legs but it must be done. That pain is almost completely blinded by the agonizing burn of when the arrow in your chest is pushed further in whenever you accidentally scrape the wall.

The air becomes thinner as you climb to the halfway point, your digits grasp onto the next protruding rock and it’s too late when you realize that it’s too loose. The rock slips out, hitting your face and temporarily blinding you as your other grip becomes weaker.

Dangerously swaying backward, you stop breathing and scramble to hold on to something. When your cut-up fingers finally grasp something more stable, your face hits the rock and it makes the blood from the wounds Yelan’s nails left leave a splotch.

Pain and sharp aches rack your body but you grit your teeth and continue climbing. The mountain seems to almost vibrate and you look down to see Yelan be smashed onto the wall. A thrilling chill of happiness runs down your spine at the sight of Yelan getting pummelled. You can only hope it scars her the way her injuries most likely will scar you.

The struggle is finally over as your fingers dig into the grass at the top and haul yourself over the ledge. Crawling with the last bit of your strength, you lay on your back and breathe in as much of the thin air as you can. Sharp and burning pain electrifies your nerves as you stare up at the night sky.

Just how shitty was your luck to end up like this?

Gingerly touching your head as the world briefly spins, you open the game screen. Maybe, just maybe it will work now that you are away from the battle. Perhaps it didn’t let you teleport in some stupid rule of ‘no teleporting when enemies are nearby’ or ‘you can’t teleport in battle’. You are well aware that Genshin never had that rule but you wanted to hold onto some hope.

Of course, it doesn’t work. Hope at the end of the day is just that. But being away from a life-or-death situation at least brings back some clarity of mind. You select a different teleport waypoint and try to teleport. It doesn’t work, and after trying nearly all of the waypoints you close the screen and groan in frustration.

You close your eyes and just try to breathe, to relax your heart that just won’t stop beating frantically. It becomes suspicious when your blood runs cold and your stomach churns in a familiar feeling of danger. With anxiety-fueled fear, you roll your aching body a few feet away as the wind caresses your skin trying to help you.

Dirt and grime cling onto your clothes and make your open wounds itch as it enters your body. But your attention is pulled away by a polearm piercing the spot you were lying at just a moment ago. Frantic yet oh so tired, you pull yourself onto your sore feet and stare warily as the cloud of dirt dispenses.

As much as you dared to dream that maybe it was Xiao, the long white hair and crane-patterned sleeves aren’t surprising. Disappointing nonetheless though.

Shenhe grips her weapon tightly as she stays in place, the rock she struck in pieces beneath her. You can already imagine what kind of damage she would have done if you didn’t move away in time. She doesn’t lift her head as she mumbles something.

Not willing to move closer but also too cautious to move away in fear of triggering her, you stand in place. Her head lifts up to let iridescent eyes glare at your beat-up and bleeding body. “I hate you.” She mutters as strands of hair droop to frame her face.

“I hate you, I hate you, I hate you, I hate-” She mutters endlessly from her position as you begin to take slow steps backward. The red rope tying her hair is already gone and the ones on her clothing are close to slipping. Most of them are ripped and gone anyway.

Shenhe harshly rips the last of the red rope off and gracefully twirls her polearm into the correct position with a look cold enough to freeze your blood. Actually, that’s just the frost creeping from her feet…

“I hate you!”  Shenhe’s yell is swift and her weapon is merciless as her attack pattern changes from the elegant crane style to one more comparable to a raging bull. You hurriedly summon your sickle in the nick of time.

Your hands are shaky from the exhaustion weighing down on your body. Combining that with Shenhe’s erratic wrath attacks makes your movements clumsy.

Each narrowly raised block and shaking deflection eat away at the little energy you have left. 

It's not enough. 

That fact becomes more and more obvious as your grip on the sickle gets weaker. What other fate awaited you when being hunted down by Shenhe who has fought and trained nearly all her life?

The past battles you've been through are viewed in a new light. Your first fight with those treasure hoarders led you to rely more on your wit than skill. The first Fatui encounter with Heizou had you more as a support than an attacker. Beisht wasn’t even attacking you and you struggled against the elements more than anything else on Beidou’s ship. After taking the commission to save Yiran from the kidnappers, you teamed up with Xingqiu and Chongyun for every battle after that.

Even afterward when you were forcibly separated and Cloud Retainer strangled you, it was the other Adepti that pulled her off. The only battles after that were your hit-and-runs with Yelan and Shenhe. Have you ever actually fought and won on your own since that first scuffle with the treasure hoarders? They even ran away after you threatened them without touching them!

The realization of your less-than-stellar fighting capacity makes your movements sloppier, your body feels heavy with the weight of your journey. All the injuries you sustained, even the ones already healed, seem to chip away at your resolve.

You were tired. You’ve been tired for a long time. It would be accurate to say that you were tired of being tired.

Shenhe’s emotions bleed through her fighting style, the wrath she’s consumed by makes her attacks rough but misaligned. Slices that should have cut deep into your shoulder or slashes across your unguarded areas miss their mark. Each one only makes her more aggravated leading to even sloppier motions.

A terrible cycle that was helping you out enough that you use your new Geo power to petrify her feet. But Shenhe has already experienced this, her spear is waved erratically around her keeping you away. 

This rare chance of escape isn’t lost on you, turning on your heels you book it and narrowly avoid the polearm thrown your way. The graze makes the already scraped side bleed heavier, and the burning feeling of pain doesn’t subside.

Running across the greenery and leaving a trail of dotted red on the dark grass, you don’t bother trying to recall where you might be. There was never much of a reason to climb all the way up here as a player and you had no time to stop to observe the map.

The rocks, trees, and flowers blur in a shadowy hazy mess. You can’t be sure whether it's from all the blood you lost, the pain that plagues your body or the starless night sky. A single rock jutted out of the rock trips you and the pain blinds you as you lay on the ground.

Stumbling back onto your feet, you hold a nearby branch with a death grip as your body sways and your vision spins. This intense lightheadedness could only be from blood loss, one would think that it’s a shame how easily you can tell blood loss apart from any other injury it might be. 

The sound of water splashing catches your attention and you do your best to follow it quickly without any more falls. The toll of the adrenaline that was coursing through your veins is starting to settle and you know full well how nasty it can be. A small lake appears in your vision and you collapse onto your knees once close enough.

A group of Cryo slimes begin to make their way towards you from the middle of the lake, or maybe it was Hydro slimes? The wind is both sweet relief on your clammy skin and a rude reminder of your aching wounds. Crawling to the side where you can only hope that Shenhe won’t find you as easily, you let your bag fall off your shoulders.

The bag has holes but as it’s not a normal bag, nothing has fallen out. To your immense relief, of course, the medkit you pull out is your only hope of surviving just a little longer. The slimes gather around you curiously, even this close the only thing you can be sure of is their blue coloring.

Ignoring them, you apply the disinfectant, ointment, bandages, and anything else that might help you with your numerous injuries. Most of them were bandaged fine with you skipping the minor wounds to not waste your precious resources, but it was the major two damages that you couldn’t touch. 

The remainder of the ice spikes in your calves were slowly melting which, unfortunately, was only leading to more bleeding. The arrow in your chest already made breathing hurt like hell. There was no way you were gonna risk yanking either of the two out. With the bleeding slowed down, your body feels a bit better but the fatigue anchors you to your spot.  

Surrounded by the slimes and gently showered by the moonlight your head rests against the closest solid structure. Thoughts of what kind of disease, danger, and death you might experience are washed away. The rippling reflection of the moon on the lake lulls your mind into a haze. Eyelids fluttering shut, you can no longer resist the urge to just rest...

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Oh boy, finally done and over with. It actually had more but I decided to cut it here and post the rest with the other parts next chapter. It may be shorter than this one. Or not, who knows. Thanks to my patient editor @serpent-benediction who edited this today. I hope everyone enjoyed the differences yet similarities between Y/N and Yelan. I did write this on Google Docs rather than on Tumblr so maybe the format is weird. Tell me if this one is too dense looking or any other opinion on it. Edit* Guess which dumbass forgot to add the read more option? Taglist - Remember those that are in italics are those who I couldn't tag! I appreciate all the comments and reblogs! Ya'll can be so funny and sweet at the same time. @vvyeislazzy, @nikqi, @the-dumber-scaramouche, @etherisy, @yourlocalstranger123, @ra404, @iruiji, @goldenglow149, @haru-tofuu, @lsleepysimpl, @bebobeboben, @yuyuzi-ling, @amidst-the-tempest, @resident-cryptid, @mxd1zzy, @mochicurls21, @nervouseaglelover, @thedevioussmirk, @yumuramma, @kwqsla, @undecidingfate, @ehjane, @game-savvy, @akiramirae, @liansh3ng, @fluffy-koalala, @formacoon, @sxftiebee, @khxii-i, @ursinaw, @chuuya-brainrot, @sweetbills, @kazuchaos, @snowfoxnix, @bluebelony, @shellofthewell, @pencil-of-ashes, @ghostlyintervention, @taiformaifoe, @goaudduck, @carminerin, @maddysflowers, @zenith-of-all-zenith, @crazydreamcat, @leafanonsforest, @grimreapersscythe, @leylanx, @sapphireknown, @help-whatdoimakemyusername, @zhonglisfruityass, @mer0n37, @victoria1676, @mochinessss, @sinnful-darling, @emilymikado, @pix-stuff, @esthelily, @luxie963, @emmbny, @millienolife @kbar1013, @xxblackroses623xx, @chxrlxtteee, @aludicpoet, @yandematic, @atrcclovsxoxo, @0lshadyl0, @esthelily, @t-rex-red, @ck123, @steadybreadbluebird, @118gremlin, @stratonia, @time-shardz, @farelady-fate, @valeriele3, @francisnyx, @byakuren100

#sagau oracle au #whisp's amateur work #genshin sagau #genshin impact #yandere genshin impact #yandere genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #yandere sagau #yandere x reader #yandere x y/n #sagau x reader #sagau #genshin cult au #sagau cult au #geshin impact #sagau impostor au #yandere shenhe #yandere yelan #i usually try to give it one more read over before posting #BUTTTT #I'm too tired for that #that's why I have an editor! #best nonpaying help

[rimunagenius]

The One Where You Royally Screw Up.

ʚ pairing: Kate Martin x Roommate!reader

ʚ word count: 3.1k words

ʚ warnings: RPF!! , slight smut, fingering, angst, use of ‘y/n’ if that even is one

ʚ rimunagenius speaks: part 4 is FINALLY here!! i’m so sorry for the delay, it was supposed to release friday but the cold i had thought i was getting over got worse in a span of hours so i said id release it on saturday, but i spent all my saturday in bed asleep bc i have the worst headache and nausea from the cold, and then today it was supposed to release early but the ending never got saved and i realized i had a communications test to take so i had to finish writing it and revising after…but it’s here!! finally. so this is angst so sorry, but trust, the pining and sexual tension that’s to come is gonna be worth it!!!

Part 4

| Series Masterlist |

This felt wrong. You knew it wasn't the best way to cope with the feelings you had realized you were harboring for Kate.

But you needed to get over it. You couldn't possibly be this self destructive, and let yourself fall your roommate. She let you live in her apartment, and gave you grace when you didn't help pay rent for the first two months, trying to find a new job.

She deserved better than to have a friendship ruined just because you loved liked her. It wasn't fair. But this didn't feel fair to you either. Kissing Juliana in the backseat of her car was the last place you wanted to be. This should be Kate. For a moment you thought it was.

That's how you ended up here. Over the span of several months since reporting Nick, he was removed off  campus and was doing time. You and Kate had celebrated the accomplishment and never spoke about it again.

Since then you two have been a lot closer. "Sleeping over" in eachothers room. Cuddling more on the couch. It all started that night you both skipped practice. You knew where it was going, so did she. But the inevitable outcome if the actions you two were so good at doing were going to ruin you both. You couldn't have that. That's why you took Juliana up on the date two months ago. You guys made it official that month.

You couldn't have what you and Kate so desperately wanted, cause when you were getting ready, you saw the way Kate watched you. The longing looks she gave you as she sat on the couch next to you, while you did your makeup.

The way you looked absolutely gorgeous in the outfit you wore out to dinner, how she wished she was the one having you on her arm, how she was the one seen in public with you, and got to bring you home at the end of the night. But she wasn't, so she tried not to make it a thing when you came home the next morning. Or when you two made it official.

"You like that?" Juliana whispered in your ear, a small giggle escaping her lips that you could feel throughout your body.

Your panting echoed in the car, while your hands traveling all over her body. Throwing your head back, you moaned as her fingers curled inside of you, fingertips brushing against the soft spongey part inside you. "Oh—Kate." You moaned it before you could even think.

Your body froze, any expecting orgasm thrown out the window. Her fingers paused, softly but swiftly removing her fingers from your sopping cunt. Grabbing a towel in the pocket behind the passenger seat, Juliana avoided looking at you while she cleaned the remnants of you off her hands.

"So, you guys aren't just friends?" Juliana knew that you and Kate were close, she didn't mind. Really. But she saw the way you looked at Kate when she'd leave after dropping you off at class. She saw the way Kate watched everything you did with a look on her face that made it seem like you hung the moon.

"What—that's not—I didn't mean—" You couldn't even think. How could you totally embarrass yourself and do that to Juliana. You didn't even know why you said it. In the far back of your mind, you guess you wished it was Kate. But you thought that was just the mere thought of your fantasies talking.

You've imagine what'd it'd be like to sleep with Kate, hell, every gay woman in America probably has. But that was just a fantasy. You liked Jules. Atleast you thought you did.

"No, tell me right now. Are you and Kate more than friends? I need to know so I don't think I have a chance with you." Julianas eyes were pleading. Sad. She wanted you two to work; she really liked you.

"We're not more than friends." You made sure to look her in the eyes when you said it. You didn't know if it was convince her, or to convince yourself. Maybe if you looked sincere and she believed it, then you would.

"But you want to be, right? Why else would you moan her name while i'm trying to fuck you?" Juliana wasn't mad, she just wanted to know why. Why did you go through with this, sleeping with her, knowing you wished she was someone else.

You couldn't answer her. You didn't know how. You looked down, grabbing your black tank top and sliding it over your head.

"I honestly have no idea, Jules." The name suddenly felt so foreign rolling off your tongue in this context. Juliana winced at the nickname. Suddenly feeling angry about it now.

"Don't call me that. Why did you say her name?" The next pieces of clothing to go on was your black biker shorts and underwear. Fixing your white tube socks, you searched for your shoes.

"I don't know." Was that all you could say to her? She surely deserved more than what you were giving, and you sure as hell weren't giving her anything.

"Stop saying I don't know and just say you like her. That's all I need to hear." Juliana's voice rose as you grabbed your ankle boot docs, sliding them on your feet.

"I don't like her, Jules—I mean, Juliana. I don't like her, okay?" Who were you kidding? Repeating the four words wasn't convincing anyone in the car.

"Jesus Christ, Y/n! Are you fucking kidding me!?" Now she was getting irritated. "You do! There...it's out in the open. Why didn't you just tell me before letting me think that I had a chance?" Her eyes went glassy, now turning pink.

"I don't know why I said it, okay? I think I do like her, and I know it's wrong for imagining her instead of you. You don't deserve that—"

"You're right. I don't." Juliana stepped out of the car, her never taking her clothes off, only aiming to please you, missing. She held the door open, so you could slide out. "Look, I'm not mad at you. I guess it's my fault for falling for you even after I saw how you looked at her."

Watching tears fall down her face, it brought tears to yours. You didn't mean to hurt her. You should've figure your shit out before starting anything. You should've figure out your feelings for Kate.

Thinking you could fill the void with a relationship and sex with another woman, without talking to someone about how you felt, was something only transactional on your end. You hurt someone's feelings because you couldn't figure out your own. How could you jump into a relationship with her?

"No, it's not your fault. I was so stupid for starting something with you—not that you're not great, because you are. But because I should've known what I was doing was wrong. It wasn't fair to you, I'm so sorry." You wiped a tear off her face, your frown deepening as you saw the hurt in her eyes grow.

"Give yourself some grace. I wouldn't know what it's like to fall inlove with someone i've been friends with for so long. It must be hard. But just—don't do this to someone else. Figure out your feelings first." Juliana turned and opened the passenger side door, you closing the backseat passenger door. She handed you your clip and your bag.

"Figure it out with Kate." She gave you a tight lipped smile, before waking around the front of her car and getting inside the drivers seat. You nodded your head, and decided you had to tell Kate.

Walking back to the apartment gave you plenty of time to think. You've been doing that so much lately, you don't know how to anymore. What happened to you?

You haven't recorded vlogs, get ready with me's, or any content for your channel in months. Opting for the vague communication with family and friends. The spiral of trying to get Kate out of your head, and trying to shove her back into the friend zone, was so consuming. You haven't even lived your life.

You needed to say it. You needed to tell someone. You needed to figure it out.

Walking inside, you set your bag and keys down on the counter. What the fuck were you going to say? How could you tell Kate that you and your girlfriend were hooking up, and the whole time you wished it was her.

Struggling to decide on who to tell, you settled for embarrassing yourself to a friend, who you knew would help you. Scrolling to find Jadas name in your contacts, you pressed her contact and listened to the phone ring.

"Hey, Jada!" You said when she answered the phone.

"Hey! What's up? You're coming to practice later, right?" Today was an off day. You usually only ever needed to be at like two practice a week.

"Today's an off day for me, and I would go as a spectator but that's why i'm calling." You swallowed the lump in your throat and sighed. This was gonna be so awkward to explain.

"Wait so you're telling me that...you're actually inlove with Kate...but you can't tell her that and because of that, you moaned her name while you were having sex with your girlfriend? Oh, that's bad, babe." You could see her face without having to see it. When you looked down at your phone, you were correct.

"I know, I know. It's super bad. I don't even know what's worse, the fact that I did that to Juliana, or the fact that she wasn't even mad about it." Recalling earliers incident, she didn't even overreact.

"Probably because she already knew. She just didn't want to see it until you did what you did. She just wanted to keep you while she had you. I get it. Happens to the best of us." Jada nodded her head and ate chips while she watched her show.

You guys ended up Facetiming halfway through the phone call so you could give proper recollection to the incident. Jada needed to see the facial expressions and everything to give her proper advice.

"Oh my god, Jada. Why do I have to feel this way for Kate?" You put your head in your hands and cried a little. You were emotionally overstimulated, the weight of your actions now weighing on you. You looked up, looking to the ceiling. Taking a deep breath, you looked down at Jada.

"Aw, you'll be okay, babe. I promise. We are all human, we all make mistakes. Don't beat yourself up about it, just learn from it. As far as telling Kate goes, I wouldn't tell her unless you were one hundred percent sure that what you're feeling is real. And when you're ready, sit her down, don't ambush her, but sit her down and talk about it."

"What if she thinks I'm literally crazy and so weird and she kicks me out?" You started to spiral.

"Hey, that's not gonna happen. She's a very understanding person and you know that. You've lived with her all these years for godsakes." Jada slapped her hand down on her bed, flipping her bowl of chips. "Oh my god!" She screamed. You laughed at loud, watching some fly across the screen.

The front door opened, a sluggish Kate walked through the door. She had been very tired recently; basketball and finishing school were growing to be very exhausting. She watched you laugh so hard that tears were falling down your face. A scream laugh, that grew quiet, a loud gasp following which she recognized as Jada's laugh through the phone speaker. She walked over and sat down on the couch next to you, resting her head on your shoulder to say hi to her other best friend. "Hi, Jada!" She smiled big into the camera, her sleepy and drowsy mood suddenly vanishing.

You put your hand on Kate's cheek, patting it softly. You looked at Jada through the screen. Your eyes stare into hers. She nodded softly, covering it with leaning down to grab the fallen chips. You knew she was right. Kate wouldn't give you a hard time but you couldn't help but panic.

You three stayed on the phone for a little while before Jada hung up so she could leave for practice. You placed the phone in Kate's room while you sat on her bed, so she could still talk to you both while they both got ready.

Kate was on her way out the door when you stopped her, hand on her arm, "Hey, can I talk to you when you get home? It's kinda important." You were so scared to tell her. But you had to rip the bandaid off right?

"Yeah, of course. I'll see you when I get home. I love you." She closed the door behind her. You stood there for a moment, staring at the door. You had three hours to prepare yourself for tonight. How the fuck were you going to tell her?

You drove yourself insane for the last 3 hours that you were alone in the house. You cleaned the kitchen, the living room, your room, mopped the kitchen, and vacuumed every surface that could be vaccummed in the house. You took a shower, and almost changed your pajamas twice.

You finally sat on the couch, watching whatever was on, literally fucking panicking. Kate had walked through the door thirty minutes ago, cleaning herself up.

"Okay, so what did you need to tell me? You okay?" She sat on the couch next to you, smiling softly to herself when she saw you were wearing one of her old hoodies. She hasn't seen in it in so long.

"What?" You looked at her, noticing smile on her face. She shrugged her shoulders.

"Just haven't seen that sweater of mine in a long time." She adjusted how she was sitting.

"Oh, I forgot I stole this from you a long time ago." You looked to her, instantly regretting it. She was manspreading and she looked so good. You could not look at her when you told her this.

"Okay, anyways. Back to what I needed to tell you. So, Juliana and I broke up." You paused. Her face pulled into a frown.

"Aw i'm so sorry. Are you okay?" Kate reached her arm around your shoulder, pulling you closer. You didn't fight it. Choosing to lean into her touch. You closed your eyes, gathering the sheer will to be able to tell her what the hell happened.

"I'm okay, Kate. I promise. But we broke up because we were hooking up in her car, and I know you said not to give you details, but it’s relevant because I moaned your name. While she was trying to fuck me.” You finally got it out, but it wasn’t helping that Kate’s face didn’t express any telling emotions.

You lifted your head from her shoulder, wincing slightly when she immediately moved a small distance on the couch. You needed her to say something but you’d get it if she didn’t. You couldn’t begin to understand the digestion of something like this.

“Oh, wow. That’s crazy.” Kate stared blankly at her slippers that she had been wearing. She was tugging on the strings of her hoodie.

“Yeah…” You were kinda let down at the reaction she had. You were expecting an immediate blow up at what you had just announced. Or some type of general reaction.

She wasn’t saying anything. You could see the gears turning in her pretty head, but nothing was coming out of her mouth. It made you more nervous than before you even told her. “Is that it? Kate?” You watched her blue eyes meet yours.

The shade of blue so pretty, and so relaxing. “What does that mean? Why?”

“Because I love you, Kate.” The sincerity in your voice hitting her like a truck. There’s no way you were finally saying these words to her. You finally said them but at the worst possible time.

“I love you, too.” She replied in the quickness. Almost instantaneous as you said them. She loved you, possibly with every bone in her body.

“No, like, romantically. Not platonically.” You clarified to make sure you heard her correctly. She sighed before speaking.

“I know, that’s why I said it back. But you know we can’t do anything about it, right?” That’s when it hit you. She wasn’t mad, she was just playing it smart. You nodded your head shortly, looking down at your hands.

“Okay, what does that mean for us, though. How exactly are we going to live together knowing there’s something here, and not do anything about it.” You thought about it, and it made sense. The final four tournament already coming. This year was crazy and passing by so fast.

They won the Big Tem tourney almost a month ago. The stress of the biggest tournament this season was coming up and a relationship, the additional stress and possible blow up of a relationship, was hard. Cultivating a new relationship at this time was stress Kate didn’t need. You couldn’t do that to her.

Kate prided herself on being level headed. That’s how she led her team so good, on and off the court. Her ability to take accountability and responsibility was unmatched, so she couldn’t understand why coming up with this resolution was so hard.

She knew it was wrong to start something she wanted to put her all in, at this moment, because she wanted to put her all into basketball. It was more important to her at this moment in time. She knew you’d understand.

“Tell me this again in a couple months, yeah?” Kate said, a small smile on her face. Trying to lighten the mood, she held her hand out.

You looked at her and then at her hand. You shook it. It was quiet for a beat, “And about the living situation, we just do it how we’ve been doing it all these years. Day by day.” Her hand that still remained in yours, pulled your body closer to hers.

This wasn’t the way you wanted to tell Kate that you were inlove with her, that you accidentally almost got off to the idea of her when your girlfriend was indeed not her, or the fact that you couldn’t start a relationship right away. But laying here, against her side, while you sat and watched whatever was on the tv to distract from the overwhelming expression of emotions was okay for now.

You knew you just needed to give it time. You two would come together. For now, you’d just have to wait. So you both sat there, counting down the days until you knew you could be together.

It was already the most insanely slow countdown of your lives.

#tumblrpost #kate martin #writers on tumblr #kate martin wlw #kate martin iowa wbb #kate martin x reader #wlw masterlist #sapphic wlw #wlw fanfic #wlw headcanons #wlw yearning #wlw ns/fw #wlw community #wlw post #wlw blog #wlw #wlw love #wlw smut #kate martin headcannons #kate martin fanfic #and they were roommates #women’s basketball masterlist #masterlist #rimunagenius writes ! #rimunagenius speaks #women’s basketball #iowa wbb #iowa hawkeyes x reader #iowa wbb x reader

[heartfullofleeches]

OOOO moth darling? I wanna throw my idea in too. Maybe a super kind and caring goth moth darling? Especially when they look super menacing (bcus they wear hardcore goth fashion) but their favorite game is smthn like animal crossing or they like super relaxing hobbies. (Also adonis could literally suffocate in the big tittie from his goth partner.) I hope you see my vision. PLEASE.

[Yan Butterfly + Goth Moth Darling]

Adonis is so weak for Darling.... He probably sneaks invites them into the buildings/homes he cleans for his job especially if there's been a murder or the home owners had some decor he knew they'd like. Adonis makes a fair amount of money from his cleaning gig, even moreso on contacts that are more "under the table" ergo shady folks looking to clean up any evidence left behind - but he's always spending his cash on gifts he knows Darling will like because he knows their preferred style of dress ain't always cheap.

Darling tells him they don't need it, but how can he stop when they're so kind to him? Making sure he eats, takes breaks, sleep. Butterfly boy may have worked himself to death by now if it wasn't for them. The long, grueling hours are worth it so long as he gets to come home and rest on their soft, warm ti- pillows...

-

"Brought you some sandwiches. Nothin' special, grabbed them from that gas station around the corner, but I knew you had to have something since you've been here all morning. Promise I'll grab something more filling next time"

An angel....An absolute angel gifted from the heavens above. Here you were bringing him food and checking up on him, yet you had the gull to believe it wasn't enough.

"...thanks...." Adonis shyly takes the bag from you, tensing as your fingers brush against his. You gaze around the living room as he clumsily works to untie its strings. The couch, TV stand, and coffee table had all been pushed towards the far walls - dark stains embedded into the carpet close to where the legs of the table once stood. You crouch to get a better look.

"Is this...." Your voice grows quiet - barely a whisper as you extend your hand. "Where it happened?"

"M....Mhm..." Adonis mouths through bitefuls of bread and cheese. The sandwich wasn't the best, or worst thing he'd ever eaten, but knowing it came from you made every bite heaven. He had given you some details of the incident that had taken place. A burglary gone wrong resulting in the death of an innocent man. Nobody even knew he was gone until bills began piling up. Never had many friends or close family.... Adonis wasn't close with his parents either... If something happened to him... you'd probably be the first and only to notice...

"Adonis?..."

"Y...Yeah?"

The butterfly freezes as your arms fall around him, pulling him towards your chest.

"Promise me that no matter what you'll text me at the end of every shift you have. It doesn't matter how late it is...All I care about is that you're safe."

You actually care.... Adonis has always know that, but hearing you say it out loud even if muffled by his face smothered by your chest...He knew it was an inappropriate time, but it was hard not to obsess over the contact with every beat of your heart playing like a melody in his ear. An angel, his angel. His saving grace he'll never let go.

"I will... Every night... I promise to I'll let you know whenever I get home.. I promise."

"Thank you....."

Adonis looks down at his half eaten sandwich. "...My bosses said I could take anything I wanted. I think there's still some clothes in the closet still that you might like if you're interested?"

"Raiding a dead guy's closet wasn't on my list of plans today...but I think I have enough space in my schedule."

#Adonis my oc #yandere #yandere imagines #yandere x reader #yandere headcanons #yandere scenarios #yandere x you #yandere insert #yandere blurb #yandere oc #male yandere #yandere hybrid #yandere drabble

[its-time-to-write]

Hi! Could You write a Jamie x Kent!reader? Like roy finds out when phoebe recognizes Jamie in a cute way,and he loses his mind on reader and Jamie,but phoebe saves the day? Thanks and best wishes✨

Got it! Here ya go! Thank you for requesting 💙

take your time while you’re mine

Roy is your brother. Molly is your sister. Phoebe is your niece. You’re a Kent, and (in your opinion) you’re the worst one. Roy’s all about football and coaching and being grumpy, Molly is a badass doctor/mom, and Phoebe is, well, Phoebe. She’s way cooler than any of you, and she’s only eight. 

You feel like you’ve been clawing and scratching your way to the top ever since you were younger, trailing after Roy and Molly.

You forged your own path, acquiring university degrees like it was your job. You let work consume you, traversing the world in a journey of self-discovery until Molly called you one day, with the news that Phoebe’s dad was gone for good. She didn’t ask, but you answered anyway. You dropped everything and flew back to London.

You’ve been around ever since, changing diapers, taking Phoebe to school, going to Roy’s football matches. You’d settled into your own skin a little more, and although it wasn’t a path you chose, it was a path you loved.

Your favorite was hanging around after matches, waiting for Roy to drive you home. You got to talk to his teammates and joke around with them about Roy’s gruff demeanor. There was only one you didn’t like. Jamie Tartt.

You’d have to agree with Roy’s assessment of this one, although Molly banned all talk of Jamie in the house. All it would take is for one of you to start and then you and Roy would just go at it, about how he was a little prick and far too self-righteous and how his stupid, awful hair was nothing compared to his stupid, awful face.

You were glad when he was kicked off the team.

You were upset when he came back.

But, he started hanging around.

His hair was less stupid and his face was less prick-ish, especially when he was cracking dumb jokes to make you laugh.

He’d talk to you while you waited for Roy, then slip away as soon as he appeared.

Jamie-talk was less banned around the house now, but you still didn’t engage. Roy didn’t notice but Molly did, because she cornered you on one of her rare days off to ask you about it.

“You like Jamie,” she states, as you were elbow-deep in dishes.

You look at her, alarmed. “What? No, I don’t. He’s a prick.”

Molly raises an eyebrow (a family trait Phoebe has not yet mastered). “Then why don’t you talk about him?”

You shrug as best you can without flinging soap. “Like I said, he’s a prick. And you were the one who said we couldn’t talk about him.”

Molly returns your shrug. “That was because you both were feeding off each other’s nasty energy. Didn’t want it around Phoebe. But Roy obviously doesn’t hate him anymore, and you’re clearly head-over-heels for him.”

The plate you’re scrubbing slips from your grasp, splashing both you and Molly.

“What makes you say that?” you ask, as casually as possible.

Molly laughs. “Not sure if you’ve forgotten, but I am your older sister. I know more about you than you know about yourself.”

“Fine,” you say, dropping a fork back into the water. “He asked me out two days ago and I said yes because I do like him, but I don’t want Roy finding out, so you’d better not tell him!”

Molly grins. “Fuckin’ knew it. My lips are sealed.” 

—

You’re successfully sneaking around Roy for one month, when the shoe drops. You and Jamie had been taking Phoebe out about once a week when you were positive Roy was either out of town or “getting his old-man rest,” as you like to call it. Seriously, that man could sleep an entire weekend away. 

This time, he and Molly have something at Phoebe’s school. She insisted he come because, quote, “I’m not braving those crazy mums by myself, and you’re scary enough to keep them away.”

Roy says yes, obviously, because he’d do anything for Molly. You would too, which is why you, Phoebe, and Jamie are strolling around Richmond, and why she and Jamie are trying to convince you of their need for ice cream sandwiches. 

“Pheebs, we literally just had ice cream cones. Why do you need an ice cream sandwich?”

“Because it’s lunch time.” The duh in her voice is heavily implied. 

“And, babe, you have sandwiches at lunch,” Jamie adds. 

“It’s a totally different food group,” Phoebe agrees. 

You roll your eyes. “Babes, Moll will absolutely kill me if I let you. No way.”

You’re saved from their rebuttal by a voice saying, “What the fuck is Tartt doing here?”

The three of you jump, startled, and you and Jamie unclasp hands. You turn to see a frowning Roy. 

“Roy!” you say, unconvincing smile on your face, “I thought you were at Phoebe’s school. Where’s Molls?”

Roy’s glare never leaves Jamie’s face. “We left early. Now answer the fucking question.”

 You can see Phoebe starting her mental tab of Roy’s swear words. Of all the times not to have her notebook handy. 

She knows neither you nor Jamie are going to be able to come up with a coherent response so she says, “Uncle Jamie picked us up to get ice cream.”

This registers with Roy, possibly a little too well, because he steps closer to Jamie and growls, “Hang on. Why the fuck does she call you ‘Uncle Jamie?’”

Jamie shrugs, grateful for any moment he’s still breathing. “Dunno. For me lovable personality?”

“No,” says Phoebe, “it’s because you’re dating my aunt so that makes you my uncle!”

Roy turns on Jamie. “You’re fucking what?”

Jamie holds up his hands. “In my defense, I wanted to tell ya. She thought you’d be mad.” He points at you.

“Was I wrong?” you ask, arms crossed, “Or is this another thing you’re going to be overprotective about?”

You can see Roy’s self-control working overtime as he tries to figure out a response that is going to a) not make you mad b) irritate Jamie and c) be appropriate for Phoebe’s ears. He finally settles on a strained, “Great,” and you smile.

“I love Uncle Jamie,” Phoebe says, fully aware of everything Roy is thinking. “He buys me ice cream and makes us laugh.”

Roy gives you a look that says, we’re fucking talking about this later and you pretend not to see it. You feel for Jamie. You have a feeling that 4am practices are about to get a lot more hellish. 

At least you won’t be alone for Roy’s interrogation. You know he’s going to lose his fucking mind when he hears Molly knew this whole time. 

You don’t worry about it yet, though. Right now you just listen to Jamie and Phoebe swear to Roy they haven’t had the chance to get their ice creams yet, and maybe he should take them because it’s getting close to lunch time and they’re quite hungry?

#jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt fanfiction #jamie tartt imagine #jamie tartt x y/n #jamie tartt x you #jamie tartt #ted lasso

[mrsdarkandyandere7]

Dark! Tangerine » Scenario #1: Jealousy

Pairing: Dark Tangerine x (female) Reader

▶ This is a yandere/dark work and it may contain triggering content so please READ THE WARNINGS before. Do not read if minor.

More at Masterlist

SUMMARY: Jealous Tangerine thoughts.

WARNING: Toxic/Abusive Relationship; Manipulation. 

AN: Please, reblog and give me feedback.

Also this gif is perfect for this scenario, isn't it?

--

If you think that Tangerine isn’t a jealous man, then you’re living in a fantasy world. 

He is fueled by jealousy. 

Your boyfriend feels - nope, he knows - that more than half of the male population in the world is after you and that’s why he must keep you away from those pricks. 

Tangerine will openly forbid you from going out on your own, no matter how much you argue or beg. He’s inflexible when it comes to it and you also might as well forget about your job. He needs to know that you’re safely tucked in the comfort of his house, far away from any danger (aka any male specimen). 

Otherwise Tangerine won’t be able to concentrate on anything else, practically bursting a brain vein from overthinking. His mind making up the worst scenarios of creepy men flirting with you, trying to swoon you or even worse, to hurt you. Lemon does try his best to reason with his brother, but it’s a failed attempt as Tangerine is quite the stubborn man. 

If you try to escape the house to go somewhere, he’ll be so quick to find out where you are as your phone location is always available for him (you don’t know about this).

Chances are that you’ll be enjoying yourself at a coffee shop with some friends, assuming that your boyfriend is busy with a job outside the country meaning you won’t have to worry about rushing back home when suddenly a very angry Tangerine shows up, with ripped off clothes with blood stains all over and very little patience as he asks whether you want to come home willingly or should he drag you back. Your choice, of course.

You barely speak to him on your way home, bursting in tears of annoyance and shame the moment you get inside his car. Lemon tries his best to serve as a mediator and to calm you down but Tangerine’s rage is too big to be controlled as he shouts at you of how irresponsible you were. 

He’s not shy explaining and detailing all the possible scenarios that could happen to you. You do know that he has dangerous enemies, right? Enemies that won’t bat an eye before cutting you into tiny pieces to get revenge at him. Enemies that wouldn’t hesitate as they would fuck you like animals over and over till they left you broken.

Did you know that? Yeah, he didn’t think so either. Basically it’s a huge guilt-tripping session until you feel like - maybe - it’s actually your fault. Maybe Tangerine is right. He’s your boyfriend after all, right?

He only wants what’s best for you. Those are the words he repeats that night as he apologizes for yelling at you as he kisses your head, pulling you into a bear hug. 

He’d lose his mind if he ever lost you and that’s something you need to take into consideration. So promise him that you’ll be a good girl from now on and he might just let you out into the garden. 

“I care about you, ya know that, right? I’m so fuckin’ sorry I yelled at you, sweetheart, but you seriously’ scared the shit out of me. I swear that if anything happened to you…I’d just fuckin’ kill myself. You’re my life and that’s all I care about.” 

#@mrsdarkandyandere7 #yandere x reader #bullet train #dark tangerine #dark!tangerine #dark!tangerine x reader #yandere tangerine #yandere tangerine x reader #yandere!tangerine #tangerine x reader #dark!fic #dark fic #tw: toxic relationships #dark tangerine x reader

[gas-stxtion]

//jerry has a fucking amazing singing voice, especially when it comes to country music. voice of a goddamn angel.

#you know this whole thing is one big experiment‚ right? and you're the little mouse? {ooc} #as far as jobs go‚ it's not the best‚ but it's not the worst either {headcanons} #❝ i told him i was surprised he was still alive ; he mistook it for a compliment ❞ {jerry pascal} #//thinks abt jerry seranading people.... ohh

[cerise-on-top]

hi! how would Valeria and Kate react if their wife’s got hurt because of their work, both of them working highly jobs and it ended up catching up to their s/o. hoe you are doing well and drink plenty of water! thank you!

-🍒

Hello! Both of them would be absolutely distraught, but would go about it in different ways!

Valeria’s and Laswell’s Wife Gets Hurt Because of their Job

Valeria: Whoever hurt you will wind up tortured and eventually, once she thinks they’ve had enough of their miserable life, will wind up dead. Naturally, the first thing she does is check up on you, see if you’re alright and well, that’s her priority. You’re the love of her life, there’s no one else in this world she wants to see do well. You’ll be admitted to the best hospital nearby and will only get the finest treatment. Once you’re stabilized, that’s when the hunt begins. Whoever hurt you won’t get too far since that bastard’s life will be on the line. Regardless of where they might be hiding, Valeria will find them and show them that death is actually a kind of mercy. She has pretty much everything at her disposal, everything money can buy, this sucker won’t know what hit them. If it’s revenge they want, then revenge they’ll get. Valeria promises you that their head will be on a silver plate. She’s not very good with words when it comes to comforting someone, but she will have that person killed in the most cruel ways she can imagine. In fact, she’ll take the pleasure of torturing them upon herself. Once she’s done, she’ll take some days off, which is surprising since she usually can’t afford that at all. You’ll be under her direct care for those days. Anything you want you’ll get. Afterwards there will be a slight shift in her demeanor, Valeria becomes more protective over you. Sometimes she might even assign some trusted people of hers to watch over you since she can’t afford something like that happening again. While she can’t always take some days off, she’ll try to be closer to you anyway. Always texting you, finding excuses to come home for a day maybe. She just really needs to make sure you’re okay, she wouldn’t know what to do with herself if you died.

Laswell: Laswell will try to be a bit more diplomatic about it at first, trying to coax whoever hurt you out of hiding. This person will be held accountable for their crimes against her world. Naturally, she rescues you first, gets you to the nearest hospital and won’t leave your side until you’re stable again. If it takes you a while to wake up again, she’ll leave to find the fucker and make sure they swim with the fishes. She has a pretty large, efficient network and will find out who it was fairly easily. Once she knows who they are, she won’t hesitate to find out all their past crimes as well, if they hurt you then they must have done some other awful things as well. Once that phase is over, she’ll go to their home herself and have them arrested, put in the worst prison imaginable where the inmates are treated especially badly. She won’t kill them, but she wouldn’t be surprised if they wind up dead anyway. Laswell usually isn’t an evil person, but she does hope that person dies during their time. Their sentence will be as long as possible so there’s no chance of them ever seeing the sunlight again either. Once all of this is over, she, too, would take some days off to spend with you. You’re a priority above all else, so Laswell will want to be there for you, no matter the cost. While she usually isn’t, depending on how severely you got hurt she might become a bit overbearing, a bit overprotective. That overprotectiveness will last for a few months, afterwards she’ll try to give you some space again. However, she’ll always be keeping a closer eye on you, always texting or calling you every once in a while to make sure you’re okay. If she needs to, she’ll put you under her protection officially, but the situation needs to be dire for that to happen. Either way, she’ll be keeping you safe.

#cod #cod x reader #valeria garza #valeria garza x reader #kate laswell #kate laswell x reader #fem!reader #I hit over 100k words in my document last night which is so so much #I've written so much for Call of Duty in such a short time it's unbelievable. granted there's one fic I never posted but still #I don't intend to stop now either though it's fun. I'll probably be into cod for a while still anyway so there's that too #besides Valeria and Laswell have me in a chokehold. Farah does too I love them #every time someone requests them I'm very happy. I didn't expect the girls to be this popular though in all honesty #not complaining! it's nice to get to imagine kissing girls. it makes my gay little heart sing #I actually had some art of Valeria and an OC of mine commissioned not too long ago #every time I look at it I giggle and kick my legs a bit #I want her to fluster the everloving hell out of me until I can't speak anymore and am complete mush for her #I know I've mentioned it before but I love women who could absolutely just kill me. and who absolutely would do it as well #cod has some good women. made me realise that older women are also pretty epic #I think I'd melt into a puddle if Laswell ever called me her girl or her wife

[dazai-ritualist]

Omg ! I didn't think you'd actually respond !! We're gonna fly away from here is easily one of the best ones in the series!! It's so Twisted and disturbing but almost domestic... (Also tysm for including my name idea in your story, Idk where it came from, I just liked it and I appreciate you!) I digress. I've returned with a concept. Al almost always has a plan when he does something. I don't know where you want to go with the second child but this won't be too focused on that one...for now. I really liked how you interpreted Alastor being a weasel and weaseling his way back into the families life and was thinking about how many I wonder about if he has a plan right now, like not a long term one, obviously, but a very specific one for a 'short term'. Women back then, especially in the south weren't allowed to have bank accounts so finicial trapping works well in this case. Also just kinda the ability to turn their kids against her would be enough to terify me. People talk about the 1950's housewife, but oh my god, 1920's housewives were a new kind of depressed. I, personally, don't think Alastor is the type of physically abuse women. No, he's far too classy for that. Instead, like I said, I think he'd either use his status in their house to trap his wife. We were able to run away while we were pregnant and alone, but we have a child now...and would we be willing to leave our child with him? No, I don't think I would, personally. This was just me rambling. K, love u, currently hyperfixated on this au. Byeee !!!! _ Cherry Anon!

DON’T REALLY WANT NO TRUST FUND BABY

[before reading this, read the rest of the story!]

— seems as if alastor found out your little secret

— UR TOO SWEET I SC THIS ON MY IG STORY AND YAPPED TO MY BOY BSF FOR AN HOUR AB IT IM BLUSHING SO HARDDDD!! ABUSE WAS LIT MY LAST SOCIAL STUDIES LESSON FOR THE SCHOOL YEAR MY TCH YAPPED AB FINANCE SO HARD 🤭🤭

being married to alastor, the radio show host is quite the sensation in your town. but, behind the closed curtains, alastor did things that would’ve made lucifer shake in his boots.

no, he didn’t hit you. his mother would kill him if he hit his wife. but, just because alastor never hit you, didn’t mean he didn’t abuse you.

he tormented you in the worst way possible, through noah. and now, emilia.

it’s been 3 years. your little emilia lives up to her name, a cute little girl who’s eager to win. and, little noah is now a big boy, double digits and all.

and, since you’ve returned back to his house, alastor has done nothing but twist your babies’ minds. ‘once upon a time, mama wanted to run away from daddy… so, she ran away and took big brother with her. daddy was sooo worried for mama and big brother though… daddy was able to track mama down, and took her home!’ he cooed to your daughter, bouncing her in his arms— with you right beside him!

you wanted to yell; scream. of course, emilia was too young to understand what alastor was saying. but, still— the fact that he was trying to tell your children that he was some sort of white knight who saved you from yourself. you wanted nothing less, but to snap that neck of his like a twig.

you really shouldn’t act so brashly though. to outsmart alastor, you have to think like him. think of what’s smarter in long run.

alastor was ‘kind’ enough to give you an allowance. $200 every week for groceries and whatever you may need. he’s even so kind as to let you have some ‘private bonding’ with noah and emilia as they accompany you to the farmer’s market.

thankfully, you had a father who wanted to make his little girl survived even without a husband. and so, you had to hear all of his ramblings about finance. saving about 45% each week for 3 years… was about $14,000!

if you saved just a little more, you’d be semi-financially independent until you can get a proper job to take care of your children. it was run-away money, so to speak.

you hid the money in noah’s room. after all, who would expect money there? especially $14,000? and, it worked, for a while. every monday, while you tucked him into bed, you brought the money with you and hid it behind his dresser.

until, what had seemed like a normal tuesday. you came home from the tailor’s, getting back a dress that noah accidentally tore. when you came home, it was only two hours after noon. and despite that, alastor was home.

“a-alastor..! what are you doing home so early? you have a broadcast in 2 hours…” you narrowed your eyes at alastor, on the floor with your children, many new toys surrounding them. “ah, darling! i decided to pick up our children early, and we may have splurged on our little shopping spree…” he smugly grinned. “oh..? where’d you get the money?” you raised your eyebrow, closing the door and laying your bearings on the dining table.

“funniest story ever, my love! there was a random stash of money in noah’s room! seems as if the tooth fairy came early!” he laughed. random stash of money in noah’s room..? “oh. i see.” your breath stopped for a minute, thinking of what kind of consequences could come from it.

“do you have any idea how that money landed there?” he side-eyed you, expecting a lie. “perhaps it was from the old owners? you know this house, there’s so many secrets in here.” you said. “i see… i suppose you are right, darling!” he giggled.

you were back on square one. financially dependent on your husband, if you could even call him ‘husband’. as you climbed up the stairs, you heard alastor whisper to your son. “you see that? momma lied. she got less talkative when papa asked her a question.”

this is what alastor’s been teaching your son. as much as you want to protest, you did lie.

oh, how much you wished for much more simpler times. playing with your baby boy in the kitchen as you make little treats together for his snack at school. and now, the boy alastor’s turning him into— a cunning sociopath, the lord only knows what he will teach your daughter.

this is just a minor setback, it has to be.

#I WORD DUMPED OMFG #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel #alastor #alastor x reader #alastor hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel alastor #hasbin alastor #alastor hazbin x reader #alastor hc #alastor headcanons #human alastor #alastor the radio demon #yandere alastor #yandere hazbin hotel #yandere