#i give it a week or so before i fall off the wagon again.

[sluttywoozi]

Give You My Wild | Like a Cowboy Pt. 3/4

Rating: M (18+) | WC: ~5.1k (there is no plot I’m so sorry)

Part One | Part Two

Warnings: HEAVY BREEDING AND IMPREG KINK, historical inaccuracy probably, crying (during sex and not), size kink, oral (f.rec.), fingering, big dick gyu, lowkey somnophilia?? (idk its more like pussy put his ass to sleep now he’s calling you nyquil), cockwarming, dreams of pregnant sex, they want to have a baby i cannot emphasize this enough, feels v romance novelly to me 

Reader Notes: hands are smaller than gyu’s, has vagina and breasts, called baby, honey, sweetheart, wife

Mingyu watches from the porch, fondness and just a bit of exasperation in his eyes, as you organize and pack up the wagon. You’re about to embark on your pre-freeze fishing trip and he tried to help, but you like the packing done a certain way. You arrange by what you’ll need to take out first, keeping the tent closest to the edge and sustenance for the way there closest to the front, where you’ll be able to lean back on the bench and take something should hunger arise. 

He’s itching to get going, partly because he wants to reach the river by nightfall, mostly because he’s already envisioning what he’ll be doing to you in the tent after you arrive. And on the riverbank, on top of a blanket and under the stars. Perhaps also in the back of the wagon on the way there. 

He’s got an excuse now, or maybe an explanation, for his voracious appetite for you. 

It happened when you were cooking together a few weeks ago, pork tenderloin with garden grown squash. You were dancing a little dance to the beat of his humming and taps with the knife as he cut the vegetables on the butcher block when you stilled, a strange look crossing your face and your hands nervously wringing your apron. 

Mingyu had been scared something was wrong, that he’d done something to upset you, and put down the knife immediately. He’d crossed the kitchen to you, his humming silenced with his heart caught in his throat like it was, and took you by the hand, tugging you to the dining table. He sat in the chair heavily and pulled you to sit across his lap, wrapping his arms tight around you and holding you secure until you gathered the courage to speak. 

“I think I want…” you take a deep breath, looking away from him with teary eyes before finding his gaze again and continuing, “I want us to have a baby, Gyu. I want us to have a family.”

The gasp he took in was followed by more, quick breaths nearly mistakable for sobs as he pressed his face into your shoulder and let the tears gather on his lashes. Mingyu had wanted this for so long, since you married him, really, but you hadn’t been ready. Of course, he didn’t push you, resolved not to bring it up until you did, and he really wasn’t prepared for how he’d feel now that you have. He was sure you could feel his heart was trying to pound its way out of his chest with how closely he held you to him, but you didn’t seem to mind. You just rested your head on top of his and let your own tears soak into his hair, gentle fingers grazing circles on his shoulders. 

Once all the tears dried up, the mood changed. 

It was like a switch flipped in him, realizing that the next time he made love to you, it would be with the purpose of filling you up with his baby. The herbs you took prevented it, but soon enough he’d get to watch your stomach grow and know that he’d been the one to make it happen. He’d get to rub your aches and pains away, fall asleep curled up around you with his hand pressed to your belly and tiny little kicks tapping against his palm, wait on you hand and foot once you got too big to easily navigate the house. All the things he’d been dreaming about, he would finally get to share with you.

He took you on the table that day, your legs caught in his elbows and his cock pounding into you, dishes clanking against the wood and flatware sliding off the edge with the force of his thrusts. After you climaxed and he emptied himself inside you, he’d knelt down and watched as your clenching walls pushed out his spend before gathering it all up on his fingers and pushing it back inside you, keeping you plugged up until your cunt stopped contracting around them and he was sure you’d be able to keep it inside. 

Mingyu’s gone wild for you in the days and weeks following, waking you in the night and sliding home once you sleepily part your legs, bending you over sinks and hoisting you up on counters, taking you against doors and walls, and once or twice, the railing of the front porch. 

Even now, as he watches you lift onto your tiptoes and bend into the wagon to rearrange the fishing poles, he’s thinking about pulling up your skirt, spreading you open, and fucking you full of his seed. And if he wasn’t so concerned it would make the coming journey more uncomfortable for you, he wouldn't even hesitate. 

The wagon bumps raggedly along the dirt road and Mingyu’s even more sure of his decision to hold off until you make it to the river. The idea was tempting but not worth causing you further discomfort, your sweet attempts to hide your winces unsuccessful. Wagons are not the most glamorous form of travel, but they’re the only option when one lives as far from the city as Mingyu and you do. 

There’s not much longer to go now, about an hour, and Mingyu is pleased to estimate about two hours of sunlight left, just enough time to arrive and set up camp. He has a lot of plans for this trip, all of which start and end with you, and he’s getting more and more excited to see them through. 

Mingyu heaves a sigh of exhaustion and sets his hands on his hips as he looks around your little section of the riverbank. The tent has been pitched, the smoker built, the food hung up and away, and he thinks there’s just enough time to watch the sun set on your naked skin. You’re on your hands and knees arranging the bedding underneath the canvas shelter and Mingyu makes his way over, rocks clacking against each other under his heavy steps, his boots landing harder as he nears you so he can ensure you’re not startled by his appearance. You sit back on your knees just as he approaches, turning around to beam at him and proudly present your hard work. 

The tent looks so cozy, duvet and pillows placed carefully and extra quilts stacked to the side for the inevitable drop in temperature.  Mingyu’s already looking forward to crawling in and pulling you close, wrapping you up in his arms and keeping you warm with the heat of his body. “Good work, darlin’. We’ll sleep well tonight but I’ll be sure to wear you out, just in case,” he flirts, knowing your cheeks must be heating and delighting in the way your eyes drop to the side, fondly taking in the bashful smile that graces your lips. 

You reach a hand up and Mingyu grasps it, pulling you to your feet and into his body, trying not to giggle at the way you stumble into him with a gasp. He forgets his own strength sometimes but this isn’t one of them, no, it's intentional, all part of his plan to have his wicked way with you. You love how strong he is, how big he is, and he takes advantage of it, riling you up with seemingly innocent acts until you’re as hot for him as he always is for you. It works, of course, your eyes shuttering as a haze overtakes them, your fingers holding onto his for dear life and your other hand rising to rest on his chest. 

Mingyu knows he should seduce you a bit more, that you deserve more wooing, but he’s wanted you all day and you’re just so soft and warm against him that he can’t help but lean down and press his lips to yours. You melt into him with a sigh, your mouth opening as soon as he brushes his tongue over your bottom lip. He does take his time kissing you, something he believes is always worth doing, wrapping one arm around your waist and pulling his hand from yours to rest his palm on the curve of your neck, his thumb tracing over your pulse. It jumps when he moans into your mouth and he grins against your lips, your physical reaction to him as captivating as always. 

He follows when you start backing up toward the tent, his hands leaving your body to clumsily pull at the buttons of your dress, his lips forming a pout against yours when you push them away and undo the buttons yourself. “I don’t want you to rip them,” you mutter, your dress hanging open and your hands moving to unbutton his shirt.

“Baby, I would never,” Mingyu protests, hoping you won’t remember-

“Gyu, I’ve had to sew buttons back onto three different things just this week. Don’t even try it,” you hiss, shrugging your dress down your arms. 

Your breasts shift with your movement and suddenly, Mingyu can’t focus on anything else. His hands still at his belt and his gaze grows heavy as you shove the dress off, each inch of skin revealed making his heart beat faster and faster. Every time he sees you bare, it feels like the first. Like sunlight breaking through gloomy storm clouds, like a steaming hot bath after a long days’ work, like the first bloom of spring after a blistering winter. You’re pure warmth to him, everything good and kind and beautiful in this world, and Mingyu will never get over the fact that you chose him to share your life with. 

He wants to thank you, wants to get down on his knees and worship at your altar, so he does. He tugs your shift off with impatient hands, takes you by the waist, spreads you out on the bedding you’d so meticulously laid, and shoulders his way between your thighs. The gasp you let out lifts one side of his mouth in a satisfied smirk, but the expression falls when he sees the wet mess of your cunt. His groan is guttural, pained almost, and he wastes no time before diving into you. He’s relentless, his tongue dipping inside you for a taste before sliding up through your folds to tap at your clit, the moans and whimpers escaping you muffled by your thighs as they clamp around his head. 

Mingyu loves it, loves being buried in you, surrounded by you, can’t get enough, will never get enough of you. He knows this well, revels in it, basks in the knowledge that he doesn’t need to get enough of you because he’ll always have you. You will always be his and he will always be yours, the matching rings on your left fourth fingers and the baby he’ll put in your belly evidence. 

You’re close already, your clit pulsing under his tongue and your hips jerking into his face, but he knows you like something to squeeze so he sinks three fingers deep inside, your pussy sucking them in immediately like you’ve been itching for them. He wants, needs to feel you cum, needs to make you cum, his fingers curling in you to find that ridged spot that makes you leak like a broken faucet. By now, it’s easy to pinpoint, easy to rub just right, with just enough pressure to make you squirm as he fingers you open. 

He’s obsessed with your sounds, or what he can hear of them through your thighs. Your moans and whimpers and sighs might as well be music to his ears, and the noises that come from your cunt whenever he hooks his fingers or thrusts them in and out practically make him feral. You’re just so wet, goddamn drenched every single time he touches you, and it’s enough to send his head spinning, especially when he’s already got the taste of you in his mouth. He’s cum like this before, and he will again, but not today. 

No, today, you’re going to cum on his tongue and his fingers, then again (and maybe once more) on his cock before he fills you up with his load. He wouldn’t be shocked if you were already with child with how much he’s been giving you lately, but he plans on fucking you full until you tell him to stop, just for good measure. 

Your pussy starts its tell-tale quivering, your walls undulating around his fingers and your clit throbbing under his tongue, and he knows you’re right there, knows all you need is his lips around you and a good grind deep inside, so he gives it to you. He purses his lips around you and digs his fingertips into your sweet spot, his deep voice mirroring the moan you let out when you tip over the edge. He keeps groaning into you, whining when he feels you clench so tight he can’t move his fingers. He’s not sure how your wetness is seeping out with how you’re locked around him but he knows he wants to taste it, drink it down, savor it, because your cunt is the best meal he’s ever had and the only one he’ll ever want. 

He’s still sucking your clit, so enraptured by your taste that he doesn’t notice you trying to wriggle away in sensitivity until you push him from you by the forehead. He apologizes swiftly, shifting up to plant a wet kiss on your lips before checking in with you. 

“You alright, sweetheart? You still want my cock?” Mingyu asks quietly, unwilling to disturb the bubble you’re floating in right now. 

“Good, Gyu, I’m good. Want your cock, want you to fill me up,” you gasp, your voice weak but your hands strong in their grip on him. 

“I’ll fill you up, baby, you know I will,” he breathes into your mouth as his lips press against yours once more before he pulls away. His feet had been outside the tent the whole time, a fact that makes him chuckle to himself while he unlaces and toes his boots off.

After clumsily unfastening his belt and shucking his pants, he drops to his knees and yanks off his shirt, the buttons undone by your fingers what feels like eons ago. The temperature is already dropping with the setting sun so Mingyu stretches out and covers your body with his, knowing his own furnace-like body heat will keep you warm. He also just loves feeling you under him, how soft and warm you are, how much smaller than him. He knows you love it too so he lets some of his weight rest on you as he takes you behind the knees and pushes your thighs up to your chest. This is one of his favorite ways to make love to you, he can get so deep and you get so tight, especially when he climbs on top of you and thrusts down with the weight of his body behind him. You love that, so it’s exactly what he’ll give you tonight.

He lets his cock glide through your folds until it glistens with your wetness, until you’re whining beneath him and trying to buck your hips up to get him inside. He won’t tease you further than this, but he can’t help making you wait for it, just for a little. He likes how it makes you as desperate as he always feels when it comes to you, how you whimper and beg and shake, how you dig your nails into his skin in retribution, and oh, the threats…

“Mingyu, if you don’t get in me right now, I swear I’ll-” Your warning is cut off by a sharp gasp as he splits you open on his cock, your cunt still tight around him even after he was just three fingers deep. The heat that swallows him is intoxicating, incandescent, and the moan you grant him with spurs a thrust that sends him even deeper inside, down to the root of his cock. He waits for your walls to stop fluttering around him, waits for your fingers in his hair and your voice in his ear, telling him, “Please, Gyu, please, fill me up.”

Your words are like a trigger, his hips bucking into you without his permission. He manages to angle them up at the last second, make it count, and the sound you let out has him thrusting into you again. You’re so reactive, so receptive to everything he gives you, and it’s enough to get him close much too quickly. 

He doesn’t know how long he’ll be able to hold it off, was far too ambitious in thinking he could outlast you cumming around him after making you cum on his fingers and tongue, so he works a hand between your bodies and finds your clit with a work-calloused thumb. You’re so wet, he can glide circles over your swollen nerves with no friction, fuck his cock in and out with sounds so obscene, a blush rises to his cheeks. You’re making the prettiest sounds, your mouth stuck open with pleasure and your eyes squeezed shut, tears gathering on your lash line and threatening to drip down your cheeks. He’ll never not be infatuated with how you respond to him, never not love every noise that leaves your lips and every expression that crosses your face, never not adore getting to be with you in this way, to take care of you in this way. 

Mingyu is the luckiest man on earth, the most blessed person of all time, to have you. The knowledge makes his heart feel too big for his chest, brings grateful tears to his eyes, makes him fuck into you just a bit harder, just a bit faster. 

He’s getting so close and he can feel that you are too, in the clenching of your walls and the way your thigh shakes under his hand, and he knows that all you need is a bit of encouragement. 

“Fit me so perfectly, honey, gonna let me fill you up? Gonna let me give you my baby?” His own words make his cock twitch and he can feel himself get harder inside you, bigger, and fuck, if you don’t break soon, he just might. 

“Yes, yes, yes, Gyu, want it so bad!” You throw your head back, one hand twisted up in the pillow and the other covering his on your thigh. Your fingers squeeze his and he’s quick to intertwine them, the difference in size shocking as always. 

The circles on your clit stop, but before you can complain he’s gently pinching it between two of his knuckles and fucking into you harder, his hips tilted so the spongy head of his cock can pound right into that bumpy patch inside of you. 

“Please, sweetheart, please,” Mingyu begs you to cum, begs you to fall off the edge before he does, and you listen. 

You listen, thank goodness, your sweet, hot cunt clamping down on his cock and sucking him in deeper as your walls try to milk him dry. It works, his balls seizing up and his dick jumping inside you, his seed flooding into your womb. His legs fold under your ass as he drops down to hover above you, bending you in half and leaning in for a kiss. You can’t kiss him back, panting as you are, but he doesn’t mind, pecking all over your face and down your neck. His teeth close on your collarbone just as his cock shoots one last rope of cum into you, making you whimper and arch your back for more. 

He’s discovered you like when he fucks you until he’s soft, so he draws his hips back and slides them forward again, his cum smoothing his movements even further. He’s glad you packed extra blankets because this duvet cover will need to be washed after he’s finished making a mess of you. His cheeks flame again as the slick squelch reaches his ears, the sound growing louder as you grow wetter. He keeps rutting into you, his softening dick drawing one last release from you before he finally pulls out. 

He covers your cunt with his hand before any more of his cum can drip out, shifting to lay on his elbows between your legs so he can see clearly as he gathers it all up on his fingers and pushes it back inside you. You look so well fucked, your eyes closed and your face slack in exhausted ecstasy, your cunt glossy and spread open. He would fuck you again if he had it in him, make you cum with his tongue if he didn’t want to keep his seed buried deep in you. Instead, he leaves his fingers inside and rises back up, sliding his arm beneath your back and pulling you into his chest. 

He thinks you may be sleeping, but he really should get you and the tent cleaned up, so he slowly withdraws his fingers and takes your hand, guiding it down between your legs. You know what to do, covering your entrance with your fingers and squeezing your legs closed as he pulls you into a sitting position and dampens a cloth with water from the jug you’d brought. 

He cleans you up gently, thoughtfully, smoothing the rag over your limbs and being especially careful with your inner thighs, where you’re sure to bruise from the force of his hips, before lightly running it between your legs. Mingyu loves this part too, having the privilege of caring for you in such a vulnerable state. It always feels sacred, as if he’s carrying out one of the most important of his husbandly duties, putting to action the vows he made years ago. To have and to hold. He’s had you, and now he gets to hold you. 

The washing of the duvet can wait until later, he just shoves it into a corner and takes hold of another, pulling it over you after carefully dressing you in your shift. Once you’re comfortable and warm, he sets about tidying himself, wetting a new rag and first cleaning your fingers before cleaning his own and the rest of his body. If this were home, he wouldn’t dress at all, but out in the wilderness, it’s simply unsafe to remain nude, so he pulls on his underclothes and pants. 

They feel itchy on his sensitive skin, on his spent cock, but it was all worth it. And it’ll be worth it tomorrow morning and afternoon too. 

Mingyu jerks awake, your finger poking his chest and your voice soft against the rushing of the water and the sounds of nature. It’s still dark, likely midway through the night, and as soon as he sets eyes on you, he can tell why you woke him. You look dewy with sweat, your eyes hazy and warm and your skin even warmer. 

“Need me?” He rumbles lowly, waiting for you to nod and reach for his pants before undoing them himself and helping you climb atop him. He can barely open his eyes, he’s still so tired, but with just a few grinds of your wet center on his cock he’s hard enough to fuck you. He only gets harder when you sit down on his dick, your cunt open enough from earlier that you don’t need any prep. You’re snug around him, still sticky inside with his cum, and his exhaustion only adds to his euphoria. 

He’s lost in a dreamlike state as you fuck him, his head lolling back on the pillow and his hips mindlessly bucking into yours each time you drop yourself down on him. He’s too gone to wish he could help more, too drunk on your warmth to think about anything but staying inside you for the rest of forever. His head spins, his fingers clenching in the blankets as you clench around his cock, but when you tighten on him with a sharp gasp, he forces his eyes open. 

You’re touching yourself. 

Fuck. Fuck, you’re touching yourself, your hand buried between your legs and your little fingers bumping against the base of his dick as you rub sloppy circles your clit. You’re not even looking at him, your eyes are closed and your head is tilted back, and he can just barely see the glint of your wedding ring in the moonlight that soaks through the canvas of the tent. You’re so beautiful, his perfect wife, who woke him just because she needed him, because she needed to use him. 

Mingyu didn’t know he would, but he fucking loves it. Loves being used by you, needed by you, and he should have known. It’s so obvious he could laugh if he wasn’t so busy moaning, his voice caught in a breathless loop of groans and whimpers of your name, pleads slipping out as your cunt swallows his cock over and over again. He’s getting so close, doesn’t even know what he needs to fall over the edge, but as always, you do, even subconsciously and, perhaps, selfishly. 

What he needs is for you to cum, and when you do fall apart around him, he’s quick to follow, nearly whining your name as his sensitive cock twitches and fills you with cum again. His eyes fall shut, his lungs burning as he pants as if he did any of the work, and when you snuggle into his chest, he does his best to wrap his listless arms around you. 

“Can I stay?” He breathes into your hair, waiting for you to nod and kiss his pec before almost immediately falling back asleep, his snores filling the air and his cock filling you. 

This time, Mingyu wakes you. 

He had the most wonderful dream; you were riding him again but this time, your belly was bigger, and your breasts were too. You were with child, his child, and it felt like the realization of everything he’s ever wanted. You, growing a miraculous little being that would hopefully look more like you, and him, holding you up and holding you close. 

And when he blinked awake, you were on top of him and his arms were wrapped around you, and if he didn’t feel that your belly was the same against his own, he almost could have pretended his dream was real. What was real was his cock, and how hard it was inside of you. 

He didn’t want to fuck you without asking first, so he set a hand on your hip and squeezed gently, murmuring your name until you stirred. 

Now, here he has you, both hands on your hips, holding you up and fucking into you just like in his dream. Soon, the rest of it will be real too, and he’s already nearing the edge just thinking about it. 

You’re so sensitive, he knows this will have to be the last time for at least half the day, so he makes it count, bringing a thumb to your tender clit and whispering all of the details into your neck in between kisses and bites. 

It’s not long until you’re shaking apart on top of him, quietly whining into his chest and digging your nails into his shoulders. It’s reflex by now, to cum when you do, and he can’t stop the wave of pleasure that overcomes him any more than he can stop the deep groan the spills from his lips as he fills you for the last time. He exhales thank you’s into your hair, petting at the parts of your hips that he gripped too tightly and rubbing his hands up and down your back to soothe you as you hiccup against him, your tears soaking into his skin. 

“What’s wrong, baby?” Mingyu asks, his concern clear. 

“I want it to be real so bad and I love you so much, that’s all,” you sniffle, your tears drying surprisingly quickly and your hands rising to wipe your face before he can. You smile brightly at him, then point over his shoulder, “Look, we literally made love till the morning light.”

Mingyu twists his head around, chuckling as he sees what you’re referring to. The colors of the sunrise seep into the cream canvas of the tent, giving your white shift and the blankets a dreamy glow. Love fills his chest and he can’t resist the urge to pull you down into a kiss, his lips soft against yours. 

His cock is softening too, and this time he can’t stay inside. He wraps his arms around your back and slowly rolls over so he’s above you before carefully pulling out. He doesn’t bother plugging you up, knows he’s filled you more than enough tonight, and dampens one more cloth to cleanse your skin of the evidence of the past few hours so you can enter the day brand new. 

“I love you,” Mingyu reminds you, discarding the cloth in the same corner as the old duvet and meeting your eyes once more. 

“I love you,” you respond, reaching your arms out to him and tugging him down into a hug. 

“I’ve gotta get to fishing and the laundry,” he breathes into your neck, “But you should rest.”

He grins as you pout but acquiesce, loosening your hold on his shoulders and playfully feeling up his bicep before letting him go altogether and snuggling back into the fresh blankets he’d covered you with. 

“Wear your hat,” you caution him sweetly, not wanting his eyes to get too tired with the light or for his skin to get sunburned. 

“‘Course, darlin’,” Mingyu beams, pulling on his clothes and lacing up his boots before leaning down for one last kiss. He ducks out of the tent, his height making this difficult, and pokes an arm back in, feeling around blindly for the hat, which somehow makes its way into his hand. 

Mingyu grins a little grin, feeling his canines press into his kiss-swollen bottom lip, and puts it on his head, his boots quiet as can be on the riverbank as he sets up his fishing gear. 

His wife needs some sleep, after all. 

AN: okayyyy i wanted to wait to post this until the anniversary of the first part but i figured i’ve taken long enough already! if you enjoy, pls reblog or comment with your thoughts and feelings!

JK ABOUT 3/3 ITS 3/4 HERES PART 4

My Masterlist

#seventeen smut #svt smut #mingyu smut #kim mingyu smut #svthub #mingyu scenarios #mingyu oneshot #mingyu x you #mingyu x female reader #mingyu x y/n #mingyu x reader #mingyu x oc #seventeen fic #seventeen series #seventeen scenarios #seventeen imagines #seventeen fluff #seventeen au #mingyu fluff #mingyu au #cowboy husband mingyu #cowboy mingyu

[trashmouth-richie]

prequel to Honey I’m Home

master list

summary: a peek into the lives of our love birds back in 1985

w/c: 4k

tw: no minors, underage drinking, drug use, party behavior. hinted at: rape

Engine roaring hot with the early dog days of summer, Eddie’s van skids to a stop sliding against black asphalt of Piney Wood Lane.

“Eddie! What the fuck?!” A church mouse voice that resembled nails on a chalkboard shrieks when the van halts to a stop. Peach colored lipstick is smeared in a wavy line across her pale skin, Chrissy glares icy blue daggers into the curly haired metal head.

Stoned and nearly asleep, Eddie forced his tired lips into a grin, pearly whites gleaming against the backdrop of the setting sun through the dirty windshield. “Oh babe you’re so pretty, here let me help.” Grabbing the tube of lipstick Eddie draws a matching line across her other cheek, “all better,” he yawns as she snatches the lipstick tube back and shoves the lid back on slamming it into her purse. Using a dirty t-shirt by her feet that she knew was used to wipe Eddie’s cum off her stomach some time last week after one of his shows, she rotates it to a cleanish spot and works the black cloth gently across her face, muttering to herself.

“Where are these little shits anyway?” She grumbles as she avoids Eddie’s lips on her neck, shoving him away with the heel of her hand.

“Fuck Chris, relax,” Eddie says, arms up in a surrender and lowering slightly to light a cigarette and blowing the smoke into the open warm air through his window, “little Tooty said they have to sneak out of the basement window.”

It had been a full year since Eyeball had left town and graduated without Eddie. His best friend was always smarter than he was, never having to repeat senior year, he left Eddie’s trailer park ass in the dust— never to be heard from again.

A scoff breaks from Chrissy’s pastel pink lips as she swipes more powder blue eyeshadow on her lids in the mirror. “I don’t know what my brother sees in her.”

The high encompassing Eddie falters for a split second. Chad Cunningham? What the fuck would Tooty want to do with him?

“Damn, tell me how you really feel,” Eddie says, rolling his eyes and inhaling from his cigarette, “don’t hold back.”

Chrissy flips the visor up with a thud and crosses her arms, her lips twisted in a sneer, she opens her mouth to speak but Eddie shushes her when five moving figures run across the neatly mowed lawn of the Wheeler’s.

Opening the sliding door is a pimple-faced Mike Wheeler, accompanied by Dustin Henderson, Lucas Sinclair, Max Mayfield, and you.

“Whoa whoa whoa,” Eddie says holding his hands up in protest, “watch the carpet yeah? Won’t be a shaggin’ wagon if the carpet is stomped all to hell you little gremlins.”

“Fuck dude,” Dustin speaks, sliding next to Mike on the floor, “you gonna give us upholstery lessons or are we going to this party?”

Mike and Lucas laugh as Eddie takes off before the door is even shut. Screaming into the night like a bat out of hell. Passing out cigarettes from a crumbled pack you kept in the breast pocket of the same ratty flannel you wore almost daily, everyone leans forward to catch the flame at the same time. Inhaling deep and choking back smoke against baby pink lungs.

Eddie wasn’t your favorite person but if he was one thing: it was reliable. He’d show up in his van, rolling up on the last remnants of weed whenever you called him. Day or night, rain or shine wherever you were— he’d drop whatever he was doing to pick you up.

Like the time Mike had left you at Benny’s after falling asleep in the red cracked booth following a late night movie premiere of Cujo. A quick dial to the Munson trailer, with a worried Benny behind you, after a couple of monotonous dial tones an out of breath Eddie answered grumpily reassuring you he’d be there soon.

Ten minutes later the blaring tunes of DIO were heard faintly as his van roared down the street, foregoing stop signs and swerving all over the place.

Benny raised an eyebrow and gave Eddie a pointed finger grunting: get her home safe.

Eddie greeted you with a stupid smile and deep dimples, threatening Mike’s life and his Hellfire spot for leaving you behind.

“Don’t make this a habit,” he scolded lightly, eyes red and higher than a kite, his boots were untied and his hair was sticking out in every direction, “Eyeball will skin me alive.”

You roll your eyes and put your feet on the dash, “Kev doesn’t even know I’m gone.”

Tapping the brakes Eddie laughs deep when you lunge forward, millimeters from almost smacking your head on your knees. “You know my rule, feet down little T.”

The night was young and you were filled with a naivety that coursed through your veins. With Eyeball at college your parents were rarely home, and you spent every waking minute you could with the boys, Max and El. A group of unruly teens, knobby knees and bad haircuts. The summer was barely at its peak, and you couldn’t wait to live it.

“Alright you little brats,” Eddie joked, pulling into Rick’s driveway, “no humping, no grinding, don’t take anything if you aren’t sure of what it is, and you all owe me $5 for the ride here and supplying you little degenerates with the best weed and warm beer in all of Hawkins.” He goads with a warm smile and jumps out of the van, leaving Chrissy to readjust her hair and makeup for the tenth time in the fifteen minute drive to get out to Lover’s Lake.

Filing out of the van one at a time, everyone slaps an Abe Lincoln into Eddie’s upturned palm. When it’s your turn he quickly closes his hand and you give him an annoyed look.

A look of concern colors his brow as he peers into your face, “Are you seriously dating Chrissy’s brother?”

Turning your lip up in defense, you scowl at the accusation, “so what if I was?” You gonna run and tell Kev about it?”

Eddie didn’t want to be on the receiving end of Eyeball’s fury, having seen for himself how Eyeball could fight the biggest of assholes at the Hideout, and he damn sure as hell didn’t want to see you on that end either. “Nah,” he chides, pocketing the bills into his chain wallet and standing with his hands on his hips, chest out, “what the hell do you think I am some shithead narc? I just didn’t think that you’re old enough to date.”

Snarling a grin and pushing his shoulder you answer sarcastically, “Are you my mother? Stop smoking Munson, you’re turning into a softie.” Traipsing past him you quickly run inside to find your friends, feet crunching on the gravel.

What the hell got into him?

—

The party is buzzing and so are you, two drinks in and a hit from Jonathan’s blunt and you’re dancing with Max, El and Will around the living room.

Tears flood Will’s eyes but he won’t say what’s wrong. Lately when he drank, he always seemed to get a little gloomy and dark. Whatever was bothering you he’d never tell, just going on about how it’s not fair. Only for the next day to claim he didn’t remember.

In a blurring spin from El’s outstretched hand, you can make out Steve Harrington. His tongue was wrapped around some blonde girl’s throat. Hands cupping her ass like she might float away. He wore his sunglasses in the house pretending like he really was fit to be “King”.

King Douche of Hairspray Island

Nancy and Jonathan are whispering close together slow dancing to a song no one can hear but them. Her stylish hair and clothes always fit her like she was straight from a Gap catalog.

Eyeing you, she waves and blows you a kiss. One you pocket and blow back. You’ve come to know Nancy quite well this last school year. Being one of your best friend's older sister’s she was cool and grown up.

Showing Max, El and yourself the proper way to wear makeup without looking like a cheap tramp.

“I don’t care if it is popular, blue is not a shade for anyone’s eyes.” Her makeup lessons earned an eye roll from Max, but you and El took special interest in it.

Collapsing onto the couch after Girls Just Wanna Have Fun ended; Will, Max and El all fall into a fit of giggles, you are breathless and your legs feel like freeze pops before they’re frozen. Being drunk and spinning around wasn’t the best of combinations but it was a blast.

A wayward glance towards the makeshift poker table in the small kitchen has Will wiping his eyes, rushing to the bathroom, excusing himself with a rushed “gotta pee.”

Finishing the last swallows of a lone beer sitting atop the barely standing coffee table, Max tosses the empty can behind her and leans forward, turning her head towards your direction, her eyes squinting into a serious glare, “you really gonna date that weasel dick Chad Cunningham?”

El’s face lights with devilish delight and you roll your eyes. Chad Cunningham was in your grade, and more popular than anyone you hung out with. Exceptionally good at sports and school, he was a dreamboat for any girl to set sail with. A future of wealth and riches lying at your feet. And he had been laying on his advances thick.

Plucking a cigarette from the crumbled pack in your shirt pocket, you offer the redhead a drag after taking a long inhale.

“Jesus,” you breathe through a cloud of smoke, “I swear I’m gonna kill Lucas.”

Max only laughs, poking your ribs with a slight jab of her unpainted fingernail, red from a picked stubborn hangnail, “Lucas couldn’t keep a secret if someone paid him too.”

Lucas and Chad played on the same baseball team, and it was he who said he would put in a good word to you for Chad. Apparently they were talking about more than just batting averages at practice.

Stealing the cigarette from your mouth, Max slots it between her own chapped lips, inhaling and blowing the smoke upwards as she falls back into the couch.

Lighting another cigarette, you listen to Max’s scoffing noises as Eddie runs through the living room, shirt off wearing cutoff denim shorts and boots, a screaming Chrissy over his shoulder as he trots towards the dock. Her high pitched whines are faint as there are two splashes into the lake, one after another.

“We’ve talked on the phone once, maybe twice,” you offer the small information as a gift, waiting for your two best friends to pull the pink satin bow and open it revealing the secret surprise. “Just lucky my mom didn’t get to the phone before I did.”

“No shit,” El hums around a can of Pabst, a wicked smile evident on her lips, “so what did he say?!”

The three of you dive into a giggly drunk conversation about boys, laughing at how awkward they were, how dumb they could be, ending the conversation still unsure whether or not you would give in to Chad’s charm. He was cute after all.

He wasn’t like you, while your family wasn’t poor, Chad’s family was extremely wealthy. They were all matching outfits for family pictures and lately your parents were gone more than they were home. Hushed whispers and teary eyes from your mother.

You didn’t know what was going on, maybe they would be getting a divorce? Maybe you’d be like Max and live in the trailer park after whichever parent decided to stay in Hawkins. Between the choice of living with your mom or dad, you’d rather sleep in a dog kennel.

Of all the girls in the school, Chad had chosen you. The sleepless nights on the phone were nothing but sweet talk. Telling you how pretty you were, calling you honey bun, how he couldn’t get you out of his head. Teasing him and telling him he was crazy, his flirting only deepened. Creating a pocket of desire and questions of what if? burrowed deep into your skin. Warming your heart with each peel of his words cozying inside of it.

He even left flowers on your window sill in the middle of the night so you could wake up to the smell of wildflowers drying in the growing sun of the dewy morning.

He was a charmer. And he’d charmed you right to a fit of heated cheeks and butterfly stomach aches.

When you saw Chrissy’s blonde hair in Eddie’s van you almost expected to see him in the back. Stomach sinking when he wasn’t stuffed into the grungy van.

Last night he made you promise to call when you were done hanging out with your friends. A promise you weren’t sure if you would keep or not.

El slinked from the couch and joined Mike and the rest of the boys playing their drunken hands at poker. Losing every cent of allowance and weeks worth of mowing yards in Hawkins to Steve and a piss drunk Tommy.

Max and Lucas were wrestling on the floor now, his deep skin turning a violent shade of purple only seen on plums from Max having him in a headlock, making him swear to stop calling her Pippy due to her choice of hairstyle.

The scent of murky lake water infused with green algae and harsh whiskey fogged your brain, tiny droplets of water slid down your cheeks, making you question how many beers you actually had. Putting your head on the cushion and looking back revealed Eddie, standing behind you in all his stupidity and brainless head banging to Heaven and Hell. One hand clutched around a bottle of Jack Daniels by the neck, his rings clacking loudly around the glass, the other pinched a fat joint. One wet boot on the back of the couch.

“Trailer Park run out of water again?” you spit, making a show of wiping your face with the back of your hand and sitting farther away from the metal head menace. Kev’s friend or not, Eddie was a special kind of jackass. Loud, ruthless, a real mother fucker, but come hell or high water, he was loyal to his friends. But shit, even an old porch dog is.

Eddie made a voice and chuckled deep, taking a large inhale from the joint, the paper crinkling against the orange burnt end. Blowing big O’s around your face, he merely grins, “you’re too kind to me little T,” he gathers his hair and wrings it out over your head, leaping over the back of the couch landing next to you with a sopping squelch sound of wet denim slapping against polyester, “better ease up on that sweetness or someone might think you’re not made of piss and vinegar.”

Kicking him away from you he only laughs harder ow stop you’re hurting me ow, he breaks out through choked laughs at your attempt to throw him off the couch.

When you have him pinned against the arm rest, your dirty white converse pressed into the slab of graffitied alabaster that makes up his back, he gently grabs your ankle and tosses your feet off of him in a swift throw.

Crossing your arms in a stubborn fashion you deliver one more kick into his side before retreating your legs in a pretzel beneath you, taking the joint from his outstretched hand as a peace offering. Hard to deliver kicks when your feet felt like they were stuck in brownie batter thick mud.

After a few hits, droopy eyes, and Eddie’s dripping curls down his back and onto the woven beige fabric of Rick’s couch, Eddie lets out a loud sigh, taking a pull from the whiskey bottle he still was nursing.

“Thought Eyeball was supposed to come home this summer?”

The question is more of a statement from Eddie as you lazily shrug your shoulders and find intense concentration on the frayed edges of your shorts. Fingers rolling the edges until the fabric is warm and sweaty.

“Dunno, precious Kev hasn’t said much since he went out East, nobody has.”

“Ohh c’mon,” Eddies velvet voice hums deep through his high, eyes barely open, “your rents aren’t that bad.”

Blowing hot breath through your lips you mimic a balloon, giggling at the way your lips feel with each wiggly vibration against your them. “Next. I’m not talking about my feelings with you when you’re higher than Willie fuckin’ Nelson.”

“Rocky Mountain High,” Eddie grins, tipping the neck or the Jack Daniel’s bottle to his lips.

Heckling him you correct, “That’s… John Denver …dumbass— ,” a yawn escapes your mouth, brain functioning on low as the high creeps into your brain, an unannounced nap knocking on your eyelids.

The couch dips with Eddie’s weight as he reaches for a blanket and tosses it to you, “Kid, I don’t know how you and Eyeball are related,” he presses, laughing at the way your eyes heavily blink back at him, “you can’t hang.”

The slowest fuck you rolls of your tongue, the living room fading in your vision you can almost taste the insult rolling around your mouth.

His idle smile falls into a frown, eyebrows pulled inward, eyes looking over your head you train your eyes to follow his gaze.

The noise of Chrissy’s bubbly giggle as she emerges from Rick’s bedroom, catches your attention. She’s wearing a pair of his boxers and a worn heather gray shirt, faded kelly green writing reading, Hawkins Athletic Dept 1980. Her eyes are twinkling with each murmur from Rick’s slack mouth, bent low to her ear, neither of them seeing Eddie sitting on the couch.

Stepping into the low hanging lights in the living room, Rick quickly gestures to Chrissy’s nose and she hastily wipes at it with the back of her hand.

You knew very little of Chrissy other than her family lived on the golf course in a lavish house with a perfectly manicured yard. One boy, one girl, perfect cookie cutter JC Penney catalog assholes.

Last year, you, Dustin and Mike threw three dozen perfectly shaped, white eggs at their front door on Halloween. While Will and Lucas rang the doorbell and Max lit the brown papered sack filled to the brim of Forest Hills Trailer Park’s finest dog shit.

There were wanted ads in the Hawkins Post for weeks about any known whereabouts of the “hoodlums” who defaced private property.

And Joyce Byers stood her ground on not knowing anything when Chief Hopper begrudgingly stomped his way from his police cruiser to the lonely woman’s door. Nevermind her receipt from Bradley’s Big Buys that was identical to what was used in the Halloween crimes of 1984.

It truly was a mystery.

Chrissy didn’t talk to you or any of your friends when you all hung out with Eddie and that was perfectly fine with you, she seemed on edge and would scowl anytime Eddie wasn’t paying her attention or waiting on her hand and foot. At the very least she looked to be in desperate need to fucking relax.

Her wide pupils scan the living room and stop on Eddie. The innocence of Bambi struck the blues in her eyes.

The couch shifts as Eddie stands on firm boots and makes his way to Rick and Chrissy. And before you can crane your neck to hear the conversation, Dustin throws himself down beside you, grabbing the blanket in a yank.

“Pretty sure I’ve figured out the physics of the beer bong,” he says as he flips your legs on his lap.

Before long your eyelids have taken the shape of sandbags and you’re fast asleep. Left on the couch after Dustin’s lengthy explanation of the correct number of breaths taken before the beer bong rendered you to a peaceful dream state.

When you wake by being lightly shaken by a sober-looking Eddie, his warm dark eyes swim with anger and look too wet, and his smile doesn’t match his eyes, “let’s go, kid,” he looks around wildly, on edge, “you’re drunker than a skunk— it’s time to go.”

You’re incoherent as you try to stand, a dizzy spell capturing you in a wave and you feel like you're underwater. Looking around you don’t recognize anyone but Eddie. Rick’s is packed with faces you don’t know.

Not wanting to be there for another second, Eddie grabs your wrist, squats low in front of you and throws your arms around his neck. He wraps the smooth crook of his elbows into the back of your knees, wearing you like a drunk backpack.

A piggy back ride that left your face in the curly, tangled tufts of his drying hair, the tang of weed and lake water stinging your nose as you bury your chin into his shoulder.

A cool blanket is on you when you open your eyes and become a little more alert. You’re in the passenger seat of Eddie’s van, a cigarette hangs limply from his lips as he’s muttering something to himself. It’s dark, and no music is playing. An odd thing for him.

A quick glance around and you see that no one else is with you. A street lamp shines through the windows and you can see Eddie’s knuckles are painted with a deepened glossy red substance.

“Eddie?”

He doesn’t hear you immediately so you repeat his name. His head turns sharp towards you and the blazed look of rage emits from his face. If it were a look from anyone else you’d be terrified. He quickly softens his eyes.

“Everyone’s at Steve’s,” he says quickly, “the kids, Nancy, Jonathan.. we’re heading there—that cool?”

Confused but unable to concentrate a single thought on why the fuck Eddie would be taking you to Steve mop head Harrington’s house, you nod in agreeance. Fighting sleep but losing.

“.. okay okay okay! Explain to me again what the hell happened, I was helping Lucas get Max in my car when it went down.”

“Ouch! Jesus Chr—“

“Sorry!”

“.. they were eyeing her man, all of them! — it was— fuck!”

*glass breaks against a wall*

“Who Chrissy?”

“No, Tooty!”

“Oh my God.. Munson. Who were they?!”

“I don’t know man, I’ve— I’ve never seen them before… fuck this I’m going back there— gonna snap their fucking necks!”

“Stop, this needs to get cleaned or it’ll get infected!”

“Henderson, weren't you sitting by her? Where the hell were you?!.”

“I was Steve! fuck— I just had take a piss, I was gone for like 2 minutes and then I heard the yelling…”

“Christ! Did they touch her?!”

“No,” a tearful voice warbles, “Eddie knocked out that big fucker and the rest of them backed off.”

“I fucking swear to God— Harrington, I will slit their throats if I see them again!”

“I know dude I know, me too.”

“She’s asleep. Max and El are staying with her in the guest room upstairs, I think we should all get some sleep it’s fucking 3 in the morning.”

“Nope, all due respect Wheeler— I can’t.”

“Ed—”

“Fuck! I won’t go back there, alright? But I can’t just lay down and go to bed— not after this..”

The weary eyed stubborn watchdog waits til dawn, aching back from the wall he’s propped up against and bruised knuckles sting with tightness. Flipping the steel end of an old pocket knife open and closed.

Steve stayed up with him for a while, a bat with nails protruding from every which way in a death grip in his fist.

Eddie didn’t think he actually was all that bad, underneath all that hairspray he could tell he’s a genuine person— lost on the surface of money, name brand clothes and expensive cologne.

The two of them made a pact that night that the kids would be protected at all costs, two guardians in the halls for them in high school in the fall. The jock dickheads who crashed Rick’s party amongst them, but the threat behind Eddie’s fist evident in the broken jaw of the football captain behemoth. No longer able to to take the Tigers to a state championship or try to have his way with a younger drunk girl at a party.

Both Eddie and Steve decide that in the morning if you didn’t remember what happened— it would die there, a protective secret amongst new friends.

🧡

see you in volume xi

#honey im home #eddie munson #eddie x fem!reader #eddie x you #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst #stranger things fanfiction

[listenheresweaty]

Revivebur x Reader PART 3

**remember to read the first two parts**

Neither you nor Tommy saw Wilbur again for a long time after that. 

Two months later, when fall arrives and Tommy is tugging you towards an apple orchard, the incident is far from your mind. It’s a wonderful day, the sky pale behind the vibrantly red leaves, but it’s bitingly chilly. Chiller than you thought, actually, so you haul Tommy to a nearby village to get some scarves and mittens. 

It’s there, after your purchases, that you run into Wilbur, chatting with the merchant on the other side of the market stall, speech faltering when his eyes landed on the two of you. 

Tommy stays back, uncharacteristically silent, peering at Wilbur from behind your back. Surprisingly, Wilbur barely reacts. There’s a short conversation, about thirty seconds of dry small talk, and then you all go your separate ways. 

You can’t help but notice that Tommy looks disappointed, kicking his feet and brooding as you hitch a ride back to the orchard in an apple wagon. 

You’ve moved about three yards before you sit up and call to the driver, “Stop the cart!” 

The wagon halts with a rattling clack of wood on cobblestone, and you jump out. 

“Give me a minute— Tommy, make sure it doesn’t leave.”

And with the driver cursing at you and Tommy yelling after you, you bolt back down the street, weaving through merchant stands and clusters of people as you head down the street where you had seen Wilbur last. 

He hasn’t gone far, briefly catching sight of you out of the corner of his eye before doing a double take and whipping around to face you— and thank god he did, else you would have collided with him. 

“Woah woah— hey!” He stumbles back as you nearly barrel into him. You skid to a stop in front of him, hunched over with your hands on your knees as you catch your breath. 

Wilbur stares, raising his eyebrows when you lift your face to look at him. Huh, you hadn’t thought of what you’d say. 

Wordlessly, you hand him a wrapped apple tart out of your basket. “It’s, um—… Happy Halloween.” You attempt. 

“It’s November 3rd.”

“Happy Thanksgiving, then.” You sigh, brushing yourself off for no reason in particular before making one more second of awkward eye contact with him—- and then bolting back to the wagon with a backwards wave. 

“Where the hell did you go?” Tommy demands as he helps hoist you back into the cart.

“I, uh.. Y’know.” You cleared your throat with a vague gesture. Tommy opened his mouth to say more, but a jolt from the carriage knocked him back into his seat. It appears the wagon driver was done waiting. 

                                                        ***

It’s another few months before you see Wilbur again. 

He’s there when Tommy comes to visit one day, standing in the yard and leaning against the tree as he watches you plant your poppies. Tommy falters, then cautiously makes his way over, giving his older brother a grim nod. Wilbur nods back, solemnly. 

“What are you doing here, Wilbur?” Tommy tries to keep any hostility out of his voice, his question uncharacteristically level and quiet. 

“Just wanted to thank our friend here“ Wilbur gestures to you “for that apple tart last week.” It’s a bold lie, he definitely came to see Tommy— but Tommy ignores the fact and instead turns to you, gaping incredulously. 

“That’s why you ran off the other day? To give him the fucking apple tart?”

You nod, and Tommy puffs out his chest indignantly. “Well he better pay us back for that, that was like 12 dollars!”

“Ah, so you bought it?” Wilbur smirked, crossing his arms and leaning further against the free as he drew a cigarette to his lips and touched it to his mouth, but didn’t take a drag. “I thought it had tasted a bit too good for something you had made yourself.”

He grins slyly, not moving the cigarette, eyes boring into yours. 

Tommy scowls and opens his mouth as if to issue a warning–—Wilbur better be not looking to start another fight–— but Wilbur doesn’t continue. There’s no real bite to his insults, and continues to smirk at you from behind his cigarette. So Tommy doesn’t react any further, equal parts wary and slightly confused. And so Wilbur stays, watching the two of you garden and occasionally getting his two-bits worth in. Over the next few months, it becomes commonplace to see him hang around outside your house. 

                                                           ***

The apple tart didn’t seem to help Wilbur warm up to you. Actually, he seems more incentivized to make your life hell. 

You tolerate the man— truly, you do, but if one more drawer gets stuck or if one more vital tool/utensil goes missing, you might strangle the stinky fleabag. 

You once came home one day to find your desk drawers empty and clearly broken into, your architectural plans and bucket lists (which you use to keep track of yourself and stay focused) gone. Pissed and thankful that Tommy wasn’t present, you immediately took off in the one direction Wilbur could have gone: into the woods, through the trail right behind your house (there was another trail leading up through the mountains, but you had come from that direction and hadn’t seen him). 

Even though you sprinted to find him, it turns out he hadn’t gone far. He was actually standing just past the tree line (your house still slightly visible through the trees), seemingly waiting. He didn’t seem surprised to see you— at least surprise didn’t seem to be the emotion lighting up his face. You weren’t focused on that though. You were zeroed in on the scroll of papers clutched in his left hand. Months worth of planning, past and future projects that would literally put you back at square one if you lost.

“Hand them over.” You growled. Maybe you were overreacting, but too many supplies had gone missing from your house this past week— most were never found, but the ones that were recovered were rarely in working order. Unlike your other supplies, however, these papers would be more than a nuisance to lose. 

Wilbur raised an eyebrow to feign confusion, but a traitorous smile was pulling at his lips. “Oh? These silly things?” 

He waved the papers around. “Why, are they of importance? If so, why were they just lying around for everyone to see?”

“They were in the drawer, you fucking prick.” You snarl, taking a few steps towards him. He grins wider, but doesn’t move away, letting you approach until your noses are almost touching. 

“Were they now?” He asks, barely moving his lips. “How can you even be sure, with the constant disorder in your house? How can you be sure that these specific papers  were the ones in the drawer, darling?”

You’ve just about had it. 7 things gone missing in a week, 3 drawers jammed, 2 confirmed petty thefts, 9 unfinished projects, 2 structures that need fixing, 4 hours of sleep and 0 coffee— it’s driving you mad. 

And you don’t even like coffee. 

Wilbur lets out a surprised grunt as his back hits the tree you’ve pinned him up against. 

“Listen here, darling.” You snarl in his face as his eyes widen. “I’ve had enough of your bullshit. You’re gonna give me back those papers right now or I’ll send you back into the earth so fast it’ll make that empty head spin.” 

Slowly, he raises his hands in surrender. You snatch back your papers with a sigh, running a hand over your face. 

Wilbur peels himself off the tree, rubbing the part of his neck where your forearm had been previously pressed. 

 He cracks a grin. 

“See you around, then.” Wilbur says as he saunters away.

-------------

I'VE BEEN WRITING THIS SINCE MARCH so i wanted to post what I had. This was originally supposed to be longer, but I'll add the next parts in part 4

#actual fanfic this time not headcanons #revivebur #c: wlbr #dsmp wilbur #revived wilbur #c wilbur #dsmp x reader #mcytblr #revivebur x reader #c!wilbur x reader #c!wilbur #dsmp #c!wilbur soot #revivedbur x reader #wilbur soot x reader #sweaty “writes”

[maki-matsurra]

May I please place a short series request with Tennessee cooper falling in love with a fellow thief (fem!reader plz). They keep accidentally meeting constantly before eventually starting to work together and ending up together (flirty rivals to lovers basically). Your short series are so unique and amazing, I’m very thankful for all that you do. We love you so much, keep up the fantastic work 👍

Hi! Thank you so much for your request!

YEEEEHAWWW! MY FIRST SHORT SERIES REQUEST! AND WITH BEST BOY TENNESSEE! I LOVE IT!

Thanks so much! I'll try and update this with new chapters as soon as I can! Hope you enjoy the first chapter though!

The fem!reader will be a raccoon as well! ^^

Outlaw Rivalry - Chapter 1

Next (Coming Soon!)

Want to send in a request? Start Here!

The sun was beating down on Tennessee as he grinded again the railroad tracks, a confident smirk on his face. He was on his way to steal a new priceless gold pendant that was arriving today. He had been planning this score for weeks, and nothing was going to stop him from stealing it.

He spotted his destination coming up fast, so he quickly checked his cane to make sure it was loaded and ready to go before jumping off the rails and using the hook of his cane to swing across an electrical wire. He landed on the roof of a building, letting him have the perfect bird's eye view of the wagon that held the necklace.

He grabbed his binoculars out of his vest pocket and brought them up to his eyes, his tail swishing as he watched the two guards unpacking the merchandise, right on schedule.

But that was when he saw it, another raccoon with (F/C) fur, pointing their gun at the bodyguards, a mask over their face and their hat covering their head, so he couldn't get a good look at their mug, but what he could get a good look at, was the mysterious raccoon shooting the two bodyguards with no care in the world.

Tennesse's jaw dropped as he mumbled; "What in the..."

He couldn't finish his thought process as he watched the raccoon grab the necklace out of the case and make a run for it, causing him to quickly pack up his binoculars and give chase to them on the rooftops.

He had to admit, they were fast; But they had a slight disadvantage, they had to handle the busy streets of the town, but he had a clear path since he was on the empty rooftops, save for the gaps he had to jump, but he could clear them no problem.

Speaking of which, he made quite a large jump from a store to the saloon, which caused him to do a front roll, but he stuck the landing and run to an electrical wire. He jumped off of the building, and tightrope walked across the wire, watching and waiting for the right time to get the drop on them.

Literally.

He watched to see them passing right below him, which caused him to drop from his perch, right onto the other raccoon, causing other people around them to gasp and gawk at the pair. Tennessee cocked his gun and pointed it directly at the other thief's chest, a smirk on his face. "Sorry, partner. But I think you'll find this..."

He raised the piece of jewelry up with a finger; "Belongs to me. So I'll be taking it back~"

The other raccoon's (E/C) eyes widened as they growled, but as fast as he dropped down, he left. Running away from the crowd to try and find a way back onto the rooftops, or at least in the shadows on the hot, afternoon day.

He spotted a rain gutter up ahead, so with a smirk, he ran towards it, confident that he got another job well done, even though it started out more different than he expected.

That was until someone jumped onto his back and made him lean back completely, his face meeting the dirt as he was flipped onto his stomach, he coughed and glared as he noticed the thief taking off with the necklace once again.

"You wanna play dirty?" He asked, spitting some dirt out of his mouth and wiping it out of his eyes, glaring. He raised up his gun and clicked the safety off. "Let's play dirty."

He took aim, using his Crackshot technique to get the perfect aim onto the necklace, he took the shot, causing the thief to yelp and shake their hand as the bullet whizzed by, tossing the necklace behind them. Tennessee smirked to himself and began rushing to the piece of jewelry.

That was when the other raccoon grabbed their gun and held it out, pointing it at the outlaw, who retaliated and pointed his cane at them as well. It was silent as everyone scattered away from the street and the pair.

It was a standoff.

The pair continued to take slow steps towards the shiny piece of jewelry, tensions high, and their eyes locked onto each other. They were soon face to face, their guns still pointed at each other.

"Give me one good reason why I should let you take this necklace."

"... Well, jewelry is a girl's best friend~"

Tennessee's eyes widened in shock, completely caught off guard by the thief's voice, that he didn't notice the kick to his legs, causing him to trip and fall onto his back. Before he could get up, the thief placed their boot onto his chest, causing him to grunt and look up at them as they took their mask off.

It was a girl. A woman...

A very, very, attractive woman.

She smirked as she leaned down, close to his face. "Thanks for the fun time, sweetheart, but I believe this..."

The thief held up the necklace, letting the outlaw watch it gleam in the sun before she put it on herself. "Belongs to me. So, I'll be taking it back~"

She removed her foot from Tennessee's chest before running away, and just when he got up to a sitting position, he saw the female raccoon blow him a kiss before leaving out of sight.

He slightly blushed at the motion, but he soon smirked.

"Finally... A real challenge."

#sly cooper #sly cooper x reader #tennessee kid cooper #tennessee kid cooper x reader #matsurrawrites #short series #short series request #Outlaw Rivalry #anon #anon request

[wonderlandleighleigh]

(warning for drug use)

1962

“You need to get back to New York.”

Lenny snorts as he settles back in his desk chair. “What for?” he asks. “It’s not like you can have me on the show, Gordon.”

Gordon sighs heavily. “Look, I- I don’t know how to...Midge hasn’t been feeling like herself.”

He sits up quickly, gripping the phone. He hasn’t been watching the show lately. He just doesn’t want to be reminded of what he’d left behind. It was better to have a clean break after not being able to gig in New York again and Midge is better off without him anyways. “What does that mean, ‘not like herself’?”

“It means...she was feeling depressed,” Gordon says awkwardly. “And her friend Imogene suggested she go see someone about it...”

Lenny squeezes his eyes shut. “Let me guess: A doctor someone with a prescription pad.”  

“Good guess,” Gordon says. “She’s not eating much, as far as I know. Probably not sleeping, either. Everyone else thinks she’s fine, but I’m worried she’s been taking more than she should, and if anyone can sniff out a Midge problem, it’s you.”

“I shouldn’t,” Lenny tells him. “We ended things because I fucked it all up, she doesn’t want to see me.”

“I am begging you,” Gordon tells him. “Put your shit aside for a few days. I don’t wanna lose my house comic, and I really don’t wanna lose my friend.”

Lenny sighs heavily. “I’ll catch the next flight out. But you’re paying for my hotel room.”

“Fuck you, you know you’re gonna be staying with Midge.”

“I’ll see you as soon as I can.”

****

His first stop is Midge’s, and when he knocks on the door, there’s no answer. So it’s a good thing he still has the key to the utility entrance in the kitchen. 

When he steps in, the apartment is mostly dark (odd for Midge and her parents), and there’s an eeriness to the place being so quiet.

“Midge?” he calls. “You home?”

Her voice is quiet, coming from the bathroom.

“Lenny?”

He heads that way, and he finds

Well.

Midge is sitting up against the bathtub, looking dazed, wearing her nightgown, her hair curly around her pretty but too-thin face.

And there’s a pill bottle on the sink.

Lenny snatches it up, reading it quickly. “Dexamyl. Fuck, Midge, if you wanted a drug problem, I could have given you better pointers.”

She shakes her head, trying to focus on him. “The doctor said to take two when I need them, but I...I got a little confused and I think I already took them, and then I took two more...”

“So you’ve literally been knocked on your ass,” Lenny says. “Midge, you went through this with me. Why would you-”

“I was sad,” she blurts out, squeezing her eyes shut. “I went to this doctor Imogene recommended, and-”

“He gave you a barbiturate and amphetamine mix to make you feel happy,” Lenny finishes for her.

“He said they would help,” Midge tells him. “That...that lots of women take these to help them.” 

“Where are your parents?”

“Paris. Kids are with Joel this week.”

Lenny sighs softly and sits next to her, wrapping an arm around her, letting her cuddle in against him. “I’m sorry, Sweetheart, I’m here.”

“You’ll leave again,” she slurs out. “Everyone leaves. Joel. Shy’s plane. You.”

He sighs softly and holds her tighter.

*****

Eventually, he gets Midge settled in bed with some water, and she falls into a hard sleep. He sighs heavily and tidies up a little before dumping the pills into the toilet and flushing.

This wasn’t supposed to happen to Midge. Him, sure. He’s fallen off the wagon plenty in the last couple of years, though he’s two months clean now by some fucking miracle. But Midge isn’t supposed to be the one to fall for this crap.

“Dexamyl,” he says over the phone to Gordon a little while later as he puts together some soup in the kitchen. “She’s high as a fucking kite, and she doesn’t remember how the hell many she takes so she just takes more.”

“Whelp. She’s officially on paid leave from the show.”

“Yeah,” Lenny sighs.

“You wanna fill in for her?”

“Is that legal?”

“Who gives a fuck?”

*****

When he heads back to the bedroom, Midge is up and looking a little more with it, sitting with her chin on her knees, shame on her face.

“I made soup,” he offers. “You must be hungry.”

She shrugs.

“I know the pills make you lose your appetite,” he says gently. “But you have to eat something, Midge.”

He still doesn’t get an answer, and Lenny sighs as he walks over, sitting on the edge of the bed. “I talked to Gordon. He’s put you on paid leave for the next few weeks so you have some time to recover.”

“Fine,” she says quietly.

“He’s the one who asked me to fly in, by the way,” Lenny explains. “He was worried about you.”

Midge nods slowly. “I’m sorry, Lenny. This is probably the last thing you needed.”

“This isn’t about me.”

“I just started to feel so hopeless, and...and Imogene said that he had helped her. I thought it was safe.”

“It’s not your fault, Midge,” Lenny assures her. “Shit’s like candy, believe me, I know.”

“Did you get rid of them?”

“Yes, I did. Flushed.”

She nods. “Thanks.”

“I’m always here for you, Midge,” he says quietly. “You know how much I love you. Hell, I left because I love you.”

She doesn’t respond to that.

“Can I get you some soup?” he offers. “Please?”

Midge nods, swallowing. “Okay.”

“Thank you,” he breathes out, relieved. “I’ll be right back.”

She reaches out quickly, snatching at his hand. “Lenny.”

He stops, gazing down at her worried.

“I love you, too,” she says quietly, gazing up at him sadly. “You know I do.”

Lenny nods, stroking her hair gently. “I know, Sweetheart. I’ll be right back.”

She nods, loosening her grip on him, and letting him go.

#fic #au #tmmm #Midge x Lenny #Midge/Lenny #I don't know how this turned out but I wanted to try to write this #it was very common in the 50's and 60's for women to be prescribed dangerous drugs to keep them Happy #a little nervous about this one #drug use trigger warning

[intubatedangel]

Junk : Chapter 3

Thanks again for all the support, I’ve found a decent rhythm, hopefully it will last. Hope you all enjoy this chapter.

Story Index  

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2

* * *

Jones cringed sightly hearing Lucy's assessment. He'd only had training in BLS, but he'd picked up enough to know this wasn't looking good. They hurried the gurney over to the ambulance, pausing for a moment to unlock the back doors.

"Jones, you good driving the wagon?" Stone said to him, as they lifted the gurney into the back of the ambulance, giving a discreet nod to the young man who had trailed them out. They both knew it wasn't strictly necessary from the perspective of the patient. With the LUCAS automating compressions, just one of the medics could have easily handled anything else. However, a strung out and high boyfriend was a different matter. They would need to manage that one carefully. If things kicked off they would need a third pair of hands to keep it from going to hell real fast.

"Got it, clear the way for us?" He asked, taking the keys from Dave.

Stone nodded in reply. They shut the doors and parted ways. The young man was reaching for the back door, stammering something. Jones cut him, keeping a soothing tone.

"This way mate, better off sitting up front, ok."

He led the young man around to the front and helped him in before rushing around to the driver’s side. He'd driven one of these ambulances a couple of times before, so it took him only a moment to re-familiarise himself with the layout. The engine roared to life, shifting it into drive before flicking on the sirens. Ahead of him the patrol car lit up too, and moments later both vehicles were on the move.

Jones glanced at the young man beside him. He was turned in his seat, staring into the back, tears streaking down his face. He needed distracting.

"What's your name mate?" Jones asked, taking care to keep any hint of accusation or authority out of his voice.

"Kevin." He mumbled, then his expression flickered, realising he was talking to a cop. "I mean Onyx."

"Onyx huh?" Jones tried to keep the conversation chatty but had a bad feeling his efforts to distract Kevin would fall flat.

"She calls me that. Gave me that name." Kevin said, his voice thick. Grief and the slurs of a fading high were part of it. But Jones sensed the edge of something hard deep underneath it. He stopped talking, hoping the young man would continue the conversation, but he remained silent.

* * *

In the back of the ambulance Dave and Lucy did what they could. Lucy regularly squeezed breath into Krystal’s lungs, while Dave was sorting the IV bags. He pushed a dose of Narcan into one port, adding a second larger dose to the bag of saline to give a constant effect. He also gave her a round of epi and one of bicarb, before grabbing a bag of glucose and electrolyte solution, hooking it up the second IV. Addicts weren't known for having a healthy diet. He'd seen many who had forgone a week’s worth of meals just to get another fix.

With that done there was little more either of them could do. Dave pressed his stethoscope to her chest, double checking the airway, knowing it wasn't necessary. The tube was well placed, but her lung sounds were grim. He heard the tell-tale signs of deeply aspirated vomit. He glanced up, meeting Lucy's gaze. She gave a slight shake of the head. They both knew that even if Krystal survived the overdose, leaving the hospital would be close to a miracle. Neurologically intact was pretty much impossible at this point.

Dave grabbed his shears and made short work of Krystal’s remaining clothing, fully revealing her naked body. Her arms were lined with track marks, and there was even a scattering of needle spots down her legs. Those limbs were also gaunt, little more than skin, bone and sinew. In the bright lights of the ambulance her ribs were clearly visible.

"Epi's had 2 minutes, let's pause the LUCAS and do a pulse check." Dave said, reaching up and twisting the dial of the LUCAS. The hissing clicks stopped, the plunger resting between Krystal’s pale breasts. The monitor continued its squeal, the line sliding across the screen without even the vaguest squiggle. Dave touched his fingers to her wrist and femoral, feeling nothing but her cooling flesh. He looked at Lucy, whose fingers were pressing into Krystal's carotid. She shook her head. Dave resumed the thumper, watching it cave Krystal's chest in over and over again, pumping her unmoving heart.

* * *

Anna pulled off her bloody gloves and the plastic apron, dumping them in the biohazard bin. She ran a hand through her hair, leaning against the wall as she watched the surgical transfer team roll the gurney out. It had been touch and go for a few minutes, a nasty nick to the man's femoral artery had required her to press her finger right into the wound from the open fracture on his thigh while Carl got it clamped off. After that they'd managed to get his blood volume back up and things were looking positive.

It had certainly re-energised her. Carl finished up his hand over with the surgical consultant, who trailed after her own team, then walked over to her. He leaned against the wall beside her.

"Good work there." He told her,

"Not so bad yourself." She replied, giving him a grin. "I missed you earlier. The walk in was terribly lonely."

He reached out, taking her hand but keeping it subtle. "Sorry about that. I tried to get an earlier appointment, but they didn't have any openings." He let out a breath. "All sorted now at least, shouldn't need to visit the accountants for another year."

"Why did you even need to go so urgently?" Anna asked, curious but not pushing.

"Someone was distracting me." He said, with a severe look that he couldn't hold for long before grinning. "I honestly forgot. My Pop's left me various stocks in a trust. They aren't worth big money, but they need managed, so I have to go in once a year to arrange things."

Anna nodded as if she knew what he was talking about. She understood the concept but had never been in that position. Her family wasn't dirt poor, but they'd never had spare cash for gambling on the markets. The only accountant she'd encountered was the one who organised the taxes for her self-employed father. And that involved a few beers and a football match on the TV. It was a nice memory, the simplicity and community of village life, tinged with sadness. The accountant’s daughter had disappeared a couple of years ago. Ran off and cut all contact.

Anna shook her head slightly, pulling herself back to the present. She gave Carl's hand a squeeze, letting out a little sigh. "I suppose we'd best get back to work." She said with a little groan. "More boring dressings."

Carl glanced up at the clock. It was 3:15. "Less than 3 hours left at least." He replied, pushing himself off the wall. "Come on then."

They both left the trauma room, heading back towards the central hub. They were halfway there when they saw Trish hurrying towards them. "We got another Red Call, OD, 2 minutes away. It sounds pretty bad."

* * *

2 minutes later Anna, Carl and the rest of their team were standing just inside the doors to the ambulance bay, keeping warm. They saw the lights of the ambulance approaching swiftly and got ready to spring into action. The ambulance swung around and pulled up, the team running out to pull open the doors. Anna was ready to jump in and take over compressions, but as soon as she saw the big green shell of the LUCAS she slid out of the way, letting the others in the pull the gurney out.

"What have we got Dave?" Carl asked the paramedic as he stepped down beside the gurney.

"Female, Jane Doe, going by Krystal, mid 20's, suspected opiate OD. Suffered a respiratory arrest approximately 22 minutes ago. Oxygenation wasn't restored until 12 minutes ago, by which time she was already asystolic. Significant amount of aspirated vomit. We've given multiple doses of Narcan and set up a titration, with no response. She hasn’t had a rhythm since we arrived."

As the team moved past Anna followed close beside Lucy, allowing her to get a decent look at Krystal. She had been stripped naked on the gurney, her sheared clothing still pinned beneath her. Her flesh was pale and ashen, a pattern of bruising underneath the heel of the LUCAS. In the slight gap of the ET tube holder, she could see Krystal's lips, a cyanotic pale blue. Above her lips was her nose, with the subtle signs of being broken in youth.

Anna frowned, turning her head to try and get a better look at Krystal's face. She looked familiar, and with that broken nose... No way. Anna thought. The accountant's daughter. She'd taken a hockey stick to the face at school. Anna remembered it distinctly because she'd been refereeing for the younger year group. The shock had stunned her, stopping her in her tracks.

"You ok?" A voice said behind her. It was a police officer. She recognised him too. Jones.

"Er... yeah. Yeah. Have you checked in with missing persons?" Anna asked him.

"Yes, haven't anything back yet though."

"Ok." Anna took a steadying breath. "See if they can pull up the information for Megan Kennedy."

Jones's eyebrows raised. "You know her?"

"Maybe." Anna shrugged. "I haven't seen her in 7 years, but she has the exact same broken nose."  

"I'll get right on it." Jones told her, grabbing his radio, chattering away.

Anna meanwhile got back in the game, heading for the trauma room. She hadn't noticed the young man pass her, but he was pushing through the doors. Anna raced to catch up.

* * *

Anna caught up to him a few steps into the trauma room. She slipped around and held up her hands to stall him. Behind her the team had transferred Krystal/Megan onto the trauma bed, removing the shredded clothing and casting it into a pile in the corner. Carl was giving orders, asking for more drugs to go in and a blood sample to be drawn out to test.

"You should really wait outside." Anna told him gently.

"No. No. She needs me." Kevin moaned.

"They're doing everything they can for her ok, you need let..." Anna was cut off.

"No they aren't!" Kevin hissed at her, the sudden switch in his demeanour putting her literally on the back foot. "Why haven't they zapped her! They're supposed to zap her!"

"It wouldn't help her right now. If they get to a point it will help, they'll do it, I promise."

He looked like he was going to keep arguing, but Jones had returned, stepping up close enough to make his presence known. He gave Anna a grim look, holding out his phone. A more recent picture of Megan was on the screen, from shortly before she ran away. Anna took the phone and advanced to the head of the bed. The lifeless young woman looked thinner, and grubbier. But Anna was almost certain it was her. She reached out and eased open one of her eyes. Anna could barely see the iris, a thin ring around a gaping pupil. But it matched the colour on the photo.

"Have you got a blood type yet?" She asked Trish, who had taken the sample and was over by a counter labelling it. She waved at the rapid testing strips, a few drops smeared on them, before sliding out of the way to take it to the lab for the drug screen. Anna quickly interpreted the result. Another match to the information on the missing person’s file.

She returned to Jones, handing back the phone with a sad nod. Then she turned Kevin.

"You really do need to wait outside." She repeated. "We're going to do everything we can to help Megan, but you need to give us space."

The young man turned his gaze toward her, glaring. "Her name is Krystal." He spoke slowly, his words hard as stone.

Jones stepped in the way, breaking the glare, waving Anna back towards the trauma bed. "Come on ... Onyx. Let them do their job." He said, placating but unyielding as he eased the young man backwards, out of the trauma room.

#Medical Drama #Resus Writing #CPR #Intubation #Anna Swift

[darkyuffie-blog]

You Can Do Better

A Stranger Things ONE SHOT

CW: Mentions of being cheated on. Breakup talk. Brief name calling by the ex towards Tessa. Very mild violence. Brief mention of Alcohol.

As Tessa ran out of the doors of the hideout, fall breeze catching her red hair as she ran, she could only think of Her no ex boyfriend's cruel words ringing in her head. "Been cheating on you for a while babe, think it's time I break this...whatever it has been for the past year off with you. I wanna be with Tina way more than I ever have you." SMACK! she had slapped Andy so hard it left a bright red handprint. Tina went to hit Tessa but with a quick right fist jab to her jaw she hit the floor, Andy yelling out "You stupid bitch! You're sucha sore loser Tess!" and Tessa hit the door running out as fast as her legs would carry her. She slipped into an Ally a block from the Hideout and slid down the wall with her knees pulled to her chest as she finally allowed herself to cry. She felt so humiliated. He did that in front of all of his friends and some of hers to.

~~~~~~~

Corroded Coffin had just finished their set and the guys were all at the bar drinking their free beers. He heard Andy talking back behind him turning around just in time to hear the loud SMACK ring out and a moment later watched Tess slam her fist straight into Tina's smug jaw before she ran out. Eddie, Jeff, and Grant watched it all go down as well. "Fuck Lady Tessara has one hell of a right hook huh. Tina's gonna feel that shit for a week at least." Eddie said from behind Gareth. Gare stood up and took off without a word after Tessa, shooting daggers at Andy who picked up Tina from the floor. She deserved that right hook for whatever had made Tess go off like that. She was usually calmer and more collected unless it came to one of the Hellfire Club getting bullied.

He saw her silhouette down a block disappear into an ally It was dark so he couldn't see her but he knew she was there. He always seemed to know where she was. They had been friends for so long it was like they had an ethereal chain that tethered them to one another. The other always seemed to know when they were having a bad day or if the other was angry. He sighed and called to her as he stepped into the darkness of the Ally. "Tess! Tess come on talk to me I know you're down here sweets..." He took another step forward, waiting for her to respond. She didn't need to be alone right now.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

She heard footsteps nearing the Ally and knew who it was. She heard him turn into it and his voice called to her. She lifted her head when he called her sweets, the nickname he had been calling her since they were twelve. "G...Gare? I'm h...here... by the fence." She heard him walk to her and he sat down beside her. "You wanna tell me what the fuck just happened in there with ass wagon and Tina, Sweets?" She sniffled and looked up at Gareth. It was dark but she knew he looked back at her. The moon giving just enough light to see the shine of his eyes. "Andy... Andy broke up with me and told me he has been fucking Tina for three months..." She sniffled again and more tears fell. Gareth wrapped an arm over her shoulder pulling her against his side lovingly. He hated to see her this way. He loved Tess so much and every time a guy broke her heart, he wanted to break their fucking faces in. "Hey, shh shh, It's okay sweets. I know you were dating a whole year but listen to me. He was a dick Tess. He hated all your friends. He told people you guys fucked even though I know you didn't do more than hand stuff cause you told me so and I know you never fuckin lie t'me. He never tried to be interested in the things you adore. He wouldn't even take you to the dance two months ago and then had the BALLS to get jealous when I took you instead because you didn't deserve to miss it when I know how bad you wanted to go... You had more fun that night than you had the entire year you've been with him sweets... You... You deserve so much better than ANDY." He huffed and kissed her forehead gently.

She giggled a little between sniffles. "Jeez Gare. You're so passionate when you get angry. It's...kinda cute." She smiled up at him the tears finally stopped. It was just her and her favorite person. Everything else in the world didn't even matter now. She reached up intertwining her fingers with the hand that was draped over her shoulder and pressed her cheek against his chest. Calming herself by listening to his breathing and heartbeat. She felt so warm being here like this with him.

"Hey...Remember who you are sweets. You are TESSARA of the light of Eldath. Cleric and Light of Hellfire! In our darkest moments you are there to close our wounds and keep us fighting, and when you need us we are there to lift you back up onto your feet. We have fought through Vecna's army, hoards of orcs, vampires, goblins, kobolds, mind flayers, demogorgons, and even a DRAGON together and when we thought we were surely going to perish you brought us back from the brinks of death. Lady Tessara the brightest light of all of Eldath's chosen." He grinned and kissed her cheek.

"Yeah....you're right! All be damned if I am gonna let some NPCs like Andy and fucking Tina take me down. Hehe I floored her ass with one hit, shows how weak she is huh Gareth the Great?" She giggled and nuzzled her face against his chest with a smile, breathing in his scent. He always smelled like pine needles, rain, and cedar. At least to her anyway and it was a smell she adored. One day she was going to confess her feelings to him but right now, right now she just wanted to stay in this sweet moment with him.

(thanks for reading loves!)

#gareth emerson #stranger things #gareth x oc #fluff #comfort

[captainderyn]

[Fictober] 19. “Do we have a deal?”

Prompt: 19. “Do we have a deal?”

Genre: Fanfiction (LOTRO)

Rating: T

Pairing: Platonic M/F friendship

CW: Implied depression.

Summary: After the fall of Edhelion, Raenor returns to Imladris a broken man. A dear friend tries one last time to help move him past his grief.

--

Perhaps he should fade just as Edhelion was doomed to do. 

Raenor knew no peaceful rest since the Dourhands’ attack on the refuge. His home for decades, all gone. Wasted away to crumbled ruin. 

The battered and crushed corpses of those he’d considered his dearest mentors and friends haunted every wandering thought. He thought of them, trapped beneath that stone forever now. 

All to protect the shattered remains of a few relics now safely tucked in the wagons pulled in their caravan back to Imladris. 

    Talagan had died for those relics. Raenor had been helpless. 

    He rode in numb silence a few horses behind Elrond. He caught the worried stares of those who had accompanied the lord of Imladris to Edhelion as they cast sympathetic stares over the ragtag bunch who’d made it out alive. 

    He was now considered a survivor. 

    He wasn’t certain he wanted this survival, if survival meant his world being sucked from beneath his feet, tormented from all sides by foul memories. 

    Even if riding back into the valley he’d known for most of his life felt like stepping into a warm embrace. 

    “Raenor!” That bright voice broke through some of his haze, the arms of one of his oldest friends finding him almost as soon as his feet hit the ground. “Suilad mellon, I didn’t think I’d get to see you again!” 

    Nárissë held him tight, squeezing him so hard around the middle he swore his ribs would crack. 

    “Mae govannen mellon.” he murmured and she pulled back to give him a vitriolic stare. Her honey eyes flashed like bronze. 

    “Mae govannen mellon,” she mocked and stuck out her tongue, “We haven't seen each other for a few decades and suddenly you don’t know me at all? How still and formal.” 

    He couldn’t help his tired smile, even if his lips only quirked up in the slightest, “I see you haven’t changed a bit, Nárissë.” 

    “And you’ve been forced to change in many ways.” Nárissë finally released him and stood back, “How are you doing, mellon, honestly?” 

    This time Raenor couldn’t force a smile; he averted his eyes, “Tired.” he said simply. 

    Bone tired. Exhausted deep into his bones.

    -- 

Time passed. 

He didn’t know how. Nor how long. 

Hours bled into weeks. Weeks into something distant and further reaching. 

Nárissë let him have his time until his time began to slip away. 

She found him, curled on one of the chaise couches beneath a gazebo draped in flowering ropes of floral. 

“What are you doing?” she asked, sitting down beside him. 

He buried his face into his hand, speaking into his palm, “Mourning.” 

“I’m losing you.” Nárissë placed her hand on his shoulder and he shook it off, “Have you given up?” 

He wasted away just as the ruins of Edhelion surely did. Creeping vines encroaching and choking out what was once beautiful snuffed out the light inside of him too. 

“I don’t know.” his voice was raw, barely above a breath. 

Nárissë shifted, fiddling with a bag she’d set at her feet. 

Raenor watched from the corner of his eye until she sat a beautiful lute beside him. He shook his head, waving it away. 

“I don’t play anymore.” he squeezed his eyes closed before the call back to song snuck its way back into him. He’d given it up the day Edhelion fell. Skorgrim had stolen that from him.

His friend insisted, pushing it closer. His fingers grazed the strings and he yanked his hand back as if burned. 

“I’m not asking you to play.” Nárissë said quietly, “Just give me a day. Paint it with me and in the end we can destroy it if you want. Take it out to the waterfall and throw it into the Bruinen.” 

Raenor opened his eyes, looking sideways at her with a frown. 

Her eyes were wide and pleading, “Please. Just one day. Try for one more day.” 

“And if I say no?” his voice was rough. He couldn’t help the way his eyes darted down to the lute. It was beautiful, intricately made. 

He’d always wanted to learn to play the lute. His harp had been destroyed in the many fires that had taken the refuge. 

“Then I’ll say farewell to you on the shores.” Nárissë’s voice shook as she held out her hand, “Do we have a deal?” 

#captainderyn does fictober #fictober22 #fictober 2022 #lotro #lotro fanfiction #oc: Raenor #fic: Under the Party Tree #Raenor's lute's origin story #this month really is just me being in Raenor Feels huh #I will be taking a posting hiatus from tomorrow thru Wed the 26th for my fall break

[toogayforthistoday]

Little bit of a rant, cause I'm back on the Borderlands!AU hell wagon, Borderlands is one of my Special Interests so of course I'm hyperfocusing on the lore again, and continuity errors bother me

Spoilers for Borderlands 3, said rant, and pet death mention under the cut

I was writing some more of Gabe and Dabi's Borderlands!AU, cause I had to put my Heart Rat, Eris, to sleep last week, the night before I was supposed to get home from my trip, and I'm still incredibly heartbroken about it, and for some reason my go-to coping mechanism is writing hurt/hurt, no comfort, we march into the thorn bushes naked to feel better /j /ij /lh

I was thinking about making Hawks another Siren for story purposes (screw genders, we're all hermaphrodidic frogs in this house /j /lh /ij), so I went to go look at the list of known Sirens...

And I think I just realized there’s a canon timeline issue if there’s only supposed to be 6 Siren’s at a time, with the 7th and final one locked away for everyone’s safety.

Because at the time of Borderlands 1, we have:

Lilith, with Phasewalk (who was a Siren from a young age)

Steele, with an unknown power (who had the rank of Commandant in Atlas’ Crimson Lance)

Maya, with Phaselock (who got her powers as an infant, and given to the Order of the Impending Storm)

Amara, with Phasetrance (who has had her powers since childhood, first using them when she fought a bully)

Angel, with Phaseshift (who got her powers as a child, and was at the very least in her mid-to-late teens while helping the first batch of Vault Hunters) and

Tyreen and Troy, with Phaseleech (who it is implied got their powers from Nyriad, seeing as the ancient Eridian-Speaking Siren had locked them in the Vault on Nekrotafeyo where the twins were conceived | As up until this point all Sirens were women, it is assumed that the only reason Troy is a Siren is because he was Tyreen’s parasitic twin, and somehow ended up absorbing some of Tyreen's Siren abilities as well)

They were all, or at the very least should have been, Sirens, so there's the 6 right there.

By my math (apologies if I'm horrendously off here, I'm going off my memory and 2 minute google searches through both fandom wiki and the Borderlands threads on Gearbox's Forum site, so something's bound to be off), there's:

About 5 years between Borderlands and Borderlands 2 (Mentioned many times in-game)

There's about a year between End Game-Borderlands 2 and the Commander Lilith and the Fight for Sanctuary DLC (Lilith mentions Mordecai had been sober a full year so he could properly raise Talon, who hatched shortly after Handsome Jack's death)

Then 7 - 8 years between Commander Lilith and Borderlands 3 (Off-handed comment from Vaughn about the VR torture devices only really being used to play games from 7 years ago, making reference to Borderlands 2 VR | Tiny Tina has 'World's most dangerous 13-year-old' in her Borderlands 2 Title Card, and 'All grown up. Still insane.' in her Borderlands 3 Title Card. Presumed to be around 20 as Gearbox has yet to give an official age)

So 11 years minimum, 15 years at max, and both those numbers are if we fudge them as far as canonically possible. And all of these lovely ladies, and Troy (with the obvious exceptions of Angel, whose power passed on to Tannis, and Commandant Steele, whose power is probably currently sitting in some poor teenager at this point, can't wait to meet you in Borderlands 4!) are at least in their late 20's - early 40's during the events of Borderlands 3?

So here's where my issues show up

There’s a couple of comics set during Borderlands 1 (Borderlands: The Fall of Fyrestone and Borderlands: Tannis and the Vault), that introduce another Siren: Asha, with some kind of Animal Control ability that I cannot find if there was ever an official name given or not, other than Animal Control.

According to the comics, Asha was employed by Marcus as an attendant in Fyrestone, greeting the Vault hunters as they come through the town and helping them get set up, as well as close friends with Claptrap. Two months prior to Roland, Mordecai, Brick and Lilith being dropped off in Fyrestone, Nine-Toes had rigged a bus to explode on arrival as part of his first attack on the town, and Asha was thrown into a coma when she was hit with shrapnel. Claptrap sent her to New Haven to been cared for by Tannis, finally regaining consciousness just before the Vault Hunters leave to fight Sledge. The only time we ever see her use her Siren abilities is when the final piece of the Vault Key is eaten by a Rakk Hive, leaving Tannis, Asha and Claptrap to rescue the nearly defeated Vault Hunters. Claptrap gets badly damaged, Asha reveals to him she's a Siren, she disperses the Rakk swarms, letting the Vault Hunters launch a bomb into the Rakk Hive, killing it.

Asha's status has been listed as unknown, and I cannot find anything about if the comics are canon or not. But that is still 7 Sirens during Borderlands 1.

So, as I was playing through Borderlands 3 on stream, back when it originally was released, I came across Nyriad's Audio log, "Warning":

You. You know now all that I know. This was an epitaph, not for myself, but for the world I knew. I have brought ruin to the Sirens, murdered the Eridians, and imprisoned a primordial force of the universe. Perhaps I have earned your hatred, or your sympathy. But that is not why I write these words. I have told you the truth, no matter its hard edges. Before I can put my fractured mind to rest, I must pass one more warning.

You must never find the Seventh.

(I could not find the written transcript for this Eridian Writing anywhere, even on the fandom wiki, so I ended up transcribing it myself from a video. Many thanks to EruptionFang on YouTube for having the complete Eridian Writings Messages with timestamps so I didn't have to launch my game just to get it)

Anyways, I pointed out that I could have sworn I'd read something, probably around the time of, or just before Borderlands 2 official release date, saying that there were only ever 7 Sirens at a time, and was very confused as to when they'd changed it to only 6. Am I the only one that happened to? Is this another case of the Mandala Effect?

But back to my rant, did Nyriad think of herself as the Seventh? Or was she referencing another of her sisters? Cause if she was talking about herself, then I kind of wish Nyriad has been clearer in her warnings, y'know? Instead of being vague... But if she was talking about one of her sisters, then yeah, canon's wrong. The way she worded her warning kind of made me think she was referring to one of her sisters, so...

The other possibility is that the comics are not canon at all, in which case canon's correct. But I would like official clarification on that.

Can we please know, Gearbox?!? I'm begging you guys to give us a straight answer!

But yeah. Mini rant over. Thank you for coming to my TEDtalk.

#Gabe Rants #Long Rant #Sad Gabe Hours #Borderlands #timelines are stupid #pet death mention #op #Borderlands 3 Spoilers #BL3 Spoilers #y'know just in case #Siren Nonsense #Siren Bullshit #Siren Lore #Siren Lore Questioning #Mandala Effect mention #Borderlands Comics #Borderlands Comics Spoilers #idk what else to tag here #this came about because of a ship but is not actually a ship #but just to be safe #OTP: Lighters in the Dark #Borderlands!AU #Drabblelands

[swisselytyson]

Oh laaawd these people

I've been on the anti-religion choo choo for about a decade consistently. No falls off the wagon out of fear back to the one true loving God who will smite me for all eternity in a lake of fire if I don't stroke his ego and talk about Him all the time to everyone I meet. Today, has been another entry in the annals of "you people are hideous". As a a healthcare minion there are some demographics of my patient population that I struggle with caring for and I'll be honest - people who exhibit violence toward others especially those of us tasked with helping them stay alive and well, perpetrators of sexual crimes, and probably anyone involved in systematic genocides. I mean, I'll take care of them and do the best job that I possibly can because that speaks to who I am NOT who they are. It's in spite of who they are and what they may have done. It still makes me gag internally, but I won't show it either.

I do get discouraged and frustrated with the people that can't move forward because they don't give a shit to take care of themselves and just expect me and other staff to do it for them for potentially YEARS. However, I digress, because I wanted to share something that happened because of the warm fuzzy accepting Christian religion.

My coworker had some not very interesting, appealing or appropriate things to say about a patient who is gay and HIV+. I went from 0 to 10 in about the time it takes to say "Did you hear what XYZ said about Patient ZYX?" and I said I did not hear that. ZYX had a LOT of health issues and was also suffering from some serious brain fade due to those issues. I would be completely confused as fuck and overwhelmed if I was in ZYX position. I wasn't even frustrated by ZYX lack of knowledge and understanding. I was gutted at his suffering and I wanted to do something about it and fix it. It broke my heart ZYX got to the health status they were at because we're supposedly a first world country and have first world problems so what the fuck is with all this preventable sequelae? Meanwhile, this born again twit is waxing theologic about this patient's partner being the same sex and what virus they have.

Her hair from the 1980s looking like some Duggar bullshit so I guess it makes sense her reaction to a health issue is also from that decade. She believes if she isn't servicing her man that he will leave. The patient has a virus that untreated could take their life but their partner is by their side and doing the best they can to provide care. The partner drives the wheelchair and helps them stand, carries their heavy bags of supplies and didn't act irritated or distanced from the person. The coworker's husband told her to wash dishes with cold water because he didn't want to spend money for a plumber to repair the hot water line in their kitchen. She finally got her way by holding her pussy hostage before her hysterectomy date which he knew was going to sideline him from hittin it for at least 10 weeks. MANS GOT THAT SINK FIXED SO QUICK. She said she "just asked him" and "he said yes". Bitch.... okay. She also the one that drops abominable farts on coworkers that smell like a fresh dog turd sizzling on hot pavement in summer time. You know who didn't drop an SBD on me, that poor patient who is fighting for his damn life.

So anyway, I hope she has the rest of the week she deserves at the very least. I'm glad she has the peace and assurance of her final resting place and she's so balls deep in that fantasy that she needs to feel superior shitting on other people without knowing anything except 2 damn pieces of information - gay and HIV+. Makes me nauseous just having to be polite and work place courteous to someone like that.

#irl people #personal rant #i need a drink

[tem32-blog]

Living a life with IC, diabetes, obesity

In this world, I have developed Type II Diabetes after having trouble with my weight and being obese for years. Was that the only contributing factor to getting diabetes? Of course not. 1) A high carb diet, including alot of sweets/desserts...pretty much a sweet at every meal except breakfast and a sweet after dinner before bed. 2) Sedentary lifestyle-I somehow thought it was "cool" to not exercise (other than exercise needed for the softball I played in high school), or thought that I didn't need to. How very wrong I was. 3)Hereditary/genetic aspects

Because of these three factors, I have struggled with my weight for as long as I can remember. I can remember as far back as 10 years old feeling out of place because of being overweight. Since my teenage years I have been on countless weight loss programs/diets. It started with a diet of not eating any red meat and progressed to not eating hydrogenated oils. I have tried weight watchers (which worked well for a while, i lost at least 50 lbs on it), Mediterranean diet, and a diet that included medifast food, then nutrisystem.

1) Weight watchers was the one that worked best where I felt good while on it. However, once I hit a plateau, I never could get back to losing weight again so I tried something else. 2) Mediterranean diet made me feel like crap for a couple weeks when I wasn't getting very many carbs because all you're allowed to eat in that timeframe are basically veggies and protein. I lasted maybe a month on this diet before ditching it. 3)Medifast diet was super expensive and at the time that I started it I could afford it because I was living at home for free. I felt okay on it, better than the Mediterranean diet. I eventually had to stop it because of money when I moved out. Plus I've tasted better diet food to be honest. 4) Nutrisystem is super convenient but also expensive...not as expensive as medifast though. What I liked about it is that it is shipped to you door and there is a program where you can choose all your meals and all you had to do was heat the meal in the microwave. These meals weren't the only thing you eat on this diet, you can also eat fruits and veggies.

After being on all these diets, I still managed to gain all the weight back. I have been trying to have a more non-sedentary lifestyle but have been struggling with that especially over the last 2 years.

What happened over the last two years that caused me to struggle? 1)COVID happened 2) Lost my grandmother (I called her Memere). Why was this significant for me? She wasn't just my Memere, she also raised me.

With these things occurring, it was difficult to exercise and when I had stopped exercising, it was so difficult to get back onto the wagon again. And after losing my Memere, I gained 30 lbs in just a few months from going back to emotionally eating. And now I can't seem to get the weight off. During that time I also struggled with controlling my blood sugar. I have been doing my best to exercise, but that has proven difficult when I had a stint of vomiting every weekend for a couple months, getting a couple colds, then getting COVID. When you are sick you can't really exercise, especially when you are exhausted and exercise causes you to go into a coughing fit. Just when I get into a rhythm of exercising, I get sick and fall back into the rut.

Just before COVID hit, I then found out I have Interstitial Cystitis (IC). So not only do I have a diet I have to follow for diabetes, I now have a diet I have to fit into my diabetes diet, which is very difficult to do. It's difficult to follow an IC diet in and of itself, it has been a huge challenge to follow both and I'm still trying to figure it all out.

I'm sure there are so many others out there with similar stories. All I can say is to keep trying, don't give up, you and I will get there eventually.

#interstitial cystitis #diabetes #obesity #do diets work

[evelynmlewis]

KoH Ch. 26 Revised Repost

Mostly the same as before with some timeline modifications. Under the cut.

*

Sunday morning dawned bright and clear.

I rode along to the church, bouncing along in the back of the wagon. I at least was in high spirits. There was, however, a twinge of anxiety about seeing the villagers, including the ones who disagreed with us, again in the same place. Would they be able to keep peace?

My arm was bandaged again, and had a waterproof layer slicked over it so that it would not be infected by the river. It ached only a little, so long as I didn’t touch it.

I’d dealt with a little stretch of time before where the Biometric was out of commission, but this was different. To start with, I couldn’t make voice calls. I couldn’t access computers – if there had been any around. I had no money. I’d lost access to my Profile and my messages. By the Settlement’s standards, I wasn’t even a person. Or at least, I was totally severed from the person who had been me.

And I’d never felt better.

As a matter of fact, despite the awful revelations about me to the town, I’d gotten more sympathy in the last week than I’d had most of my life. I supposed that said more about the Settlement than it did about me.

Though I caught the expected looks from the villagers of Hock and Hanfell, it was hard to tell what their attitude was. It was mixed, perhaps. I kept my head down during the service. There may have been some here who had not forgiven me. Did they understand? How was I to earn their trust? I had no way of giving them back what I’d taken.

Didn’t these people all claim to adhere to Christ’s teaching on forgiveness? The Joneses had given me such a striking example, but perhaps one could not expect to be universally liked.

However despite the expected tensions, I was pleasantly surprised after service. When I saw Matt Falconer, one of the people who’d been giving me an odd look, I was initially apprehensive. However, he came up to me and warmly shook my hand.

“Ow,” I said.

“Sorry!” he pulled away fast. “I just wanted to say congratulations. Not just for your baptism, ‘cuz I know that hasn’t happened yet, but on…” he tilted his head and nodded like you know. “Getting rid of that thing.”

“Oh,” I said. “Thanks.”

“I think that was very brave of you. I can’t imagine being in your place and having to make the choices that you’ve made.”

I wasn’t sure what to say, but his words did make me feel good. Gratitude stirred. “Thank you,” I said again, but more warmly this time. I was at least trying to convey sincerity. The prospect of being admired under the circumstances was a little shocking. Especially when Matt and his father were going to try to stay and defend their towns (die. They were going to die, I thought, and pushed it to the bottom of my mind).

After the service a group walked down to the river. This section was about a mile downstream of the rapids where I’d washed up prior. The water was wide and calm, if cold. There was a rocky beach of white, rounded pebbles and smooth driftwood.

Less than half the people had stayed, but it was surprising we had as many as we did given the activities and attitudes of the day. Most of the men who had chosen to fight were elsewhere now, likely continuing to form up and make plans. I’d heard a rumor that Mason had become irritated that Smith was planning to flee with Jones, and was trying to strike a “bargain” with the man to use his forge to turn a number of hoes and rakes and shovels into weapons, for what Smith decried as a “suicidal” endeavor.

Those who remained sat around there on boulders and logs, forming a semicircle. I was not the only one being baptized, there were two children from Hanfell. I did not know them. They went first.

It was a quiet day. The sand squeezed under my toes as I waded into the river to meet the minister. The pale sunlight of late fall and early winter gleamed off the river’s ripples. The water itself was dark green. It came up about to my waist when I reached him.

There was a brief exchange of words.

“I baptize you… in the name of the Father… the Son… and the Holy Spirit.”

My world went dark. I was forcefully reminded that I’d almost drowned in this river once. Memories of learning to swim with Cam resurfaced. But I didn’t have time to panic. The minister pulled me up and there was light again.

I climbed out of the river soaking wet. There was light applause and I got hugs from everybody I knew and some people I didn’t know.

“Hey,” somebody behind me said. “Where’s John?”

John-Michael Jones was sitting on a log, his head came up.

“No, not you. Little John.”

***

We’d been looking for little John for nearly two hours. The crowd had thinned even further, but plenty of the village of Hock was still searching with us.

They had spread out up and down the river in both directions. Nobody had seen him after the beginning of the ceremony; he must have slipped off at some point in the middle and nobody had noticed.

At this point, everyone, even Mr. Jones, was starting to get visibly worried. The sun was dropping lower, and we didn’t have time for this. The final preparations still had to be made for the evacuation the next day. At this point, every hour could make a difference.

“Somebody needs to go back to the house,” said Mrs. Jones. “It’s almost dinner time, he might have gone there. He might be at home wondering why we aren’t there.”

“I’ll go,” said Grace, and ran back off down the road.

The rest of us kept searching the woods. A chill wind blew, and I had gotten very cold. My clothes and hair weren’t drying properly. I shivered. “Can I go back too?” I said. “Just to change clothes.”

“Yes,” said Mrs. Jones. “There are enough of us here, I think. You keep an eye out for him up there.”

I had turned around, walked up the embankment and out of the thicket, with my arms wrapped tightly around myself. I never closed my eyes, however, keeping them roaming constantly for the eight-year-old. “John!” I called, and heard the voices of others much louder and more distant echo back the name.

It was just as I was getting to the road that I heard an ear-shattering scream.

Instantly I abandoned my mission and started running in the direction of the voice.

I kept following the noise until I reached the riverbank. It had only been seconds but it seemed like an eternity. Mrs. Jones and now several others, reaching the location, were gathering at the top of a steep crag overlooking the river. Down below were rocks and rapids, and a smaller, swirling muddy pool.

Mr. Jones was standing knee deep in this pool, coming up out of the river. I couldn’t see his face, as his head was down. His hair was wet and hung over his eyes. In his arms was a small, limp body.

#koh #kindomofheaven

[aquagustd]

hell is empty - JJK, KTH

📞 #1

↳ events right after part 04.2 - months before part 05

✧ series masterlist ✧

pairing — drug lord!jungkook x reader, hotel owner!taehyung x reader

genre/rating — R | angst, smut, fluff, love triangle au

tags — strong language, parental conflict, single parent!reader, ceo!taehyung, dad!jk

a/n — important phone call between yoongi & oc - which is relevant to the plot !! if you skip this you will be confused 

Yoongi: Hello?

You: Yoongi.

Yoongi: What’s going on? It’s nearly four in the morning.

You: He wants to take him away.

Yoongi: What?

You: Jun—Jungkook. He wants to take Junho away from me.

Yoongi: …

Yoongi: ___ you know he won’t do that.

You: But he is! He—He’s got all these fucking documents and I—fuck.

Yoongi: Hey, calm down. Where’s Smiley now?

You: He’s here with me. I couldn’t leave him there like that when Jungkook could just…take him away! Fuck what was I thinking—

Yoongi: Calm down, please. I can’t hear you because you’re crying.

You: He just—he said that I’m incapable of taking care of Smiley. Said that I’m a bad parent and he—

Yoongi: You know that’s bullshit. You’re—

You: Did you tell him what happened that day outside the mall…By the fountain?

Yoongi: What? Fuck no. Why would I tell him that?

You: Then how else would he fucking know?!

Yoongi: Can you relax for a second? How could you even ask that question? Fuck, ___ that day was traumatizing enough for me. How could you think I would even bring it up again?

You: How…else would he know, Yoongi? Y-You were the only one there.

Yoongi: Fuck I don’t know. There could’ve been someone else around, it happened outside the mall, a public area. It was years ago. Fuck how do you expect me to remember? I was so fucking scared for Junho and you. You’re asking all this at four in the morning?!

You: He kept talking about Junho’s safety…how he can’t trust me. I just…felt like he was hinting at that. And—and he said it’s better if Junho stays with him because you never know when I’m gonna fall off the wagon.

Yoongi: Fucking asshole.

You: Yoongi. I don’t know what to do. He’s gonna take my baby away.

Yoongi: No. He won’t. He can’t do that. You really think he has a chance? Everyone knows Jeon Jungkook.

You: I just—he made it seem as if I have no idea what I’m doing. Like all these years he was the one looking out for Junho instead of me!

Yuri: Hey, babes. Don’t listen to him. He’s a shithead. You’re really gonna let someone like him put you down? C’mon now, stop crying.

You: I know—he just—you understand, Yuri. The way he spoke…I couldn’t—

Yuri: It’s okay. I get it. But you know what? He’s not worth your tears. Yoongi and I are here to stand by you. Always.

You: I know, I’m just so fucking scared. Like—you know what he’s capable of. Yoongi?

Yoongi: He won’t do shit. Listen to me, you’re gonna keep Junho with you, if that makes you feel better. But you know that Jungkook doesn’t give up easily.

You: If he wants Junho—why is he making my life a misery? Why can’t we just settle things once and for all and then he can go back to whatever—hole he crawled out of?!

Yoongi: …That’s not gonna happen. At least not until he gets what he wants.

You: Junho.

Yoongi: It’s more than that.

You: What? What do you mean?

Yoongi: …___.

You: No—Yoongi. You better tell me right now. Stop trying to protect me because you’re doing a shitty fucking job! Fuck, you don’t know how I feel right now. I can’t fucking breathe.

Yoongi: Calm down. Or I won’t tell you.

You: …

You: I’m calm. Tell me.

Yoongi: …Jungkook isn’t here because he wants Smiley. Well, that’s not the only reason why he came back. Or…came out of hiding.

You: Out of hiding? What? What’s the other reason?

Yoongi: Uhh…not ‘out of hiding’ but…he made his presence known. The…What I’m trying to say is—he’s not back because he wants Smiley. He was perfectly fine with the way things were.

You: You mean…calling every few weeks and meeting Junho outside of school behind my back?

Yoongi: Things were going to change eventually.

You: Then why did he come back?

Yoongi: Remember your stalker? Stalkers, rather? He heard about that.

You: …Fuck.

Yoongi: Yeah.

You: So, he came back because he was worried about us?

Yoongi: Maybe. He came back because Yang was too quiet for a while. And when I called him to let him know what was happening—he knew he had to do something.

You: Yang.

You: Wait. You called Jungkook?

Yoongi: …Yes. I had to.

You: …

Yoongi: You’re angry.

You: So, he’s only here because he’s worried for his own ass? He doesn’t really want to spend time with Junho?

Yoongi: He was gonna come back eventually.

You: Eventually.

Yoongi: Were you waiting for him?

You: …

You: No.

Yoongi: Hmm.

You: Now I definitely got to keep Junho away from him.

Yoongi: He won’t hurt Smiley.

You: How do you know that? He tried to kill me the other day.

Yoongi: What? He won’t do that.

You: He did…Anyway—

Yoongi: He loves Junho.

You: Now he loves him.

Yoongi: If you had just—

You: I don’t want to hear it right now, Yoongi.

You: Anything else you need to tell me?

Yoongi: Don’t think so. Stop stressing over nothing. No one will take your baby away from you. Which—reminds me. He’s turning six soon. Smiley needs to explore and figure some things out for himself.

You: …I know.

Yoongi: How’s he doing at his new school?

You: Have a meeting with the school counsellor on Monday.

Yoongi: Already?

You: Apparently it’s just protocol.

Yoongi: Hmm.

You: Anyway, tell Yuri I said goodnight.

Yoongi: She’s asleep and I think you mean good morning.

You: I forget she falls asleep quick…hah. Night~

Yoongi: Are you feeling a bit better now? Calmer?

You: Sort of.

Yoongi: Uhh, ___—

You: Yeah?

Yoongi: What I said earlier—

You: Hm?

Yoongi: Jungkook didn’t only ‘show up’ because I called him.

You: Okay?

Yoongi: He wanted to for a long time – he just didn’t know how you would react.

You: So…this is my fault?

Yoongi: I didn’t say that. Stop jumping to conclusions.

You: …what’s your point?

Yoongi: He’s here for you too.

✉️

© aquagustd 2021-2022 do not copy/repost/translate

#taehyung x reader #jungkook x reader #taehyung smut #jungkook smut #jungkook series #taehyung series #jungkook x you #bts smut #bts fanfiction #bts scenarios #jeon jungkook fanfic #kim taehyung fanfic

[scarlettriot]

Stood Up

Pairing: Sero/F!Reader

Summary: When you find your dating making out with someone else at a Halloween party, Hanta swoops in and reclaims your evening, rekindling an old flame.

Contains: Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Demisexual Reader, Astronomy/Greek Lore Nerd Sero, Old flame

Warnings: 18+ Below the cut, Minors DNI! Swearing, Demi Problems, Praise/Smidge of Degradation, Name-calling (slut & whore), Pet names (Love, good girl, pretty girl), Car Sex, F Masturbation, Oral M Receiving (Road Head) I think that's everything

A/N: This took me much longer than I expected. It's also my first time writing Sero. Given the season, I decided to add a touch of Halloween and costumes to this one.

If you'd like to read other's in the Stood Up series, here are the links:

Stood Up - Bakugo - WC 3,502

Stood Up - Kirishima - WC 3,612

Stood Up - Kaminari - WC 2,461

Word Count Starting Below: 3,494

Denki Kaminari's annual Halloween bash was in full swing by the time Hanta had arrived. He'd come straight from patrol, wrapping himself up in his own tape making a half assed mummy costume for himself. Not like anyone would notice with the flashing colored lights, loud music, and abundance of liquor.

However, Hanta didn't even make it up to the double glass front doors of Denki's home. Not before doing a double take at the very familiar pirate that ran by him.

"Y/N?" You stopped allowing him the chance to catch up to you, "Holy shit, it is you, when the hell did you get back?"

Three years you'd been gone, working in America. Time differences and busy schedules made it so the two of you barely kept in touch. It was a shame, Hanta thought, considering how close the two of you used to be.

"I- uh- just a few weeks now. I heard you were helping out with the disaster relief after that storm."

It had to be his eyes playing tricks on him, the funny colors of the dancing lights were what made your cheeks look wet, right? Those couldn't have been tears.

"I was, yeah, but I got back yesterday. I didn't know-"

"Get the hell outta here!" His head snapped back towards the front of the house, just in time to see Eijiro, dressed in an impressive werewolf costume, literally throw someone out of the party. The guy drunkenly stumbled off, Eijiro walking over towards where Hanta was standing with you. "Y/N, you good?"

You nodded while Hanta tried to piece together what'd happened. "Sorry, it took me a second to find the bastard. Do ya wanna come back in? I'll make sure he leaves."

"No, Eijiro, thanks though. I'm just gonna head home."

The wolfman frowned but understood. "We'll have a smaller party for ya! Just the gang as a welcome home! You know Denki will look for any excuse to throw a party." He turned his gaze on Hanta. "A mummy, really?"

"You've been a damn werewolf for the last two years! You don't get to give me crap."

Eijiro poked the fuzzy pointed red ears carefully set into his spiky hair. "Mina and I worked real hard on this costume... seemed like a waste to only wear it once."

"We both know you haven't just worn those once, big man."

That got a chuckle out of you while all Eijiro could do was shrug and try to hide a shit-eating grin.

He asked you again if you'd like to stay and once more you said you were going to just head home. It was when you specifically said you were going to be walking home that Hanta spoke up offering to drive you back to your home since it was Halloween and people were creeps.

You were a damn pro hero but he still didn't feel right about just letting you walk home alone.

When you agreed he told Eijiro he'd be back soon and walked over with you to his car.

>>><<<

A part of you missed the old station wagon Hanta used to drive, not that this BMW he now drove wasn't absolutely amazing, you just sort of missed the comfort of the old car.

He waited until he'd reached the end of Denki's long, winding driveway to finally speak. "So, you wanna tell me what happened back there, or am I just supposed to pretend like Kiri didn't kick someone out on your behalf?"

"You could probably just ask Kiri and he'd tell you."

"I could, but, I'd like to hear it from you."

You knew you could tell him, there was nothing you couldn't tell Hanta. There was once a time when the man knew every single detail about your life. Sure, time and distance had put a strain on that relationship but you were back now. There was no reason why you couldn't at least start rebuilding what you and Hanta once had.

"Y/N, if you don't wanna say anything-"

"I was just casually seeing this guy. You know me and dating, how we don't always work out." You said abruptly and he quit talking, "And so, we weren't like official but we said we'd go to this party together. Well, I got here and went looking for him and found him making out with one of Hawks' sidekicks. I got a little upset when he noticed me and, well, he just said he found someone better."

Hanta actually stopped the car, pulled off to the side of the road, threw it in park, and looked right at you because he knew what found someone better meant exactly. You'd used those words in high school when that guy from Shiketsu that you'd been seeing got pissed off that you wouldn't put out and ended it with you. You went to his dorm crying because he 'found someone better', is what you told him. It took him a few hours to get the truth out of you.

You'd always been the kind of person to love with your entire heart but sexually, you'd confessed that you felt different from all the other kids your age back then. Not having the same urges and desires that everyone else seemed stricken with.

"Hanta, it's fine, really. Kiri heard the whole thing and, well, you saw what happened."

"Doesn't make it right! So, you went on a couple dates with a guy, that doesn't mean he just gets to expect you to put out for him! Even if you weren't demi, no one gets to just assume they deserve sex."

His lips were pressed in a narrow line, nostrils flared once in annoyance. He was usually so calm and laid back that you thought it rather cute when he got overprotective. "It's alright, Hants, really."

He still gave you a look that said he disagreed but then shook his head, dropping the subject for now at least.

"Still like those late-night drives?"

"I love them."

"Good."

Hanta waited for a car to pass and whipped the car in the other direction.

It wasn't long before he had the windows rolled down, conversations filling in the blanks of lost time, in between belting out choruses of your favorite songs. Minutes slipped by the further he drove, you lost track of both time and kilometers, letting him tell you all about the ridiculous antics the group had been up to.

Eventually, you caught the scent of salty air and even in the dark, you had a pretty good idea where Hanta was going. He followed a winding road, making two left turns and then a right leaving you on a stretch of road that paralleled the ocean.

You let your head fall against the seat, eyes falling shut and inhaling that wonderful smell you missed so much. Hanta had just one hand lazily on the wheel, his elbow resting out the open window, a relaxed smile was illuminated in soft orange lights off his dash.

You let your head roll onto his shoulder, not as easily done without the bench seat in his station wagon but it worked nonetheless. "Thanks."

His free hand came to rest on your knee, "Anytime."

He turned the wheel, pulling over and parking in front of a small beach access that you guys had found at 3 in the morning five years prior. Hanta kicked off his shoes, leaving them in the car to avoid them being sand-filled and you did the same with the knee-high boots purely because you longed to feel the sand between your toes.

The wooden planks were worn, parts buried beneath the sand until eventually, none remained. Breaking waves flooded your ears and you made a run for them! Before you could reach the lapping water though, tape had wound around your middle and yanked you backward.

"Not happening!" Hanta said firmly. "Last time I let you talk me into late-night swimming we didn't have a change of clothes either and we both got so sick! I think I might have actually died without Bakugo's soup!"

You chuckled, remembering being nineteen and curled up with Hanta on the sofa in the living room of the apartment you all shared for nearly a week. The sniffles didn't cease for almost three weeks.

"Okay, okay, no swimming." You flopped back down into the sand, his tape still attached meaning the cellophane hero was pulled down with you. "Tell me about the stars then, Hants. Who's out tonight?"

Astronomy was a hobby of Hanta's you learned about after moving into the dorms your first year. It wasn't uncommon to find him out on the roof most nights, laying on his back and looking up into the clear night sky littered with twinkling stars, usually with a joint pressed between his lips. It became almost a habit for him to grab you on his way up, pulling you along because you were more than happy listening to him tell you about each constellation and the stories behind them.

It was around this time of year, in your final year of high school; somewhere between him recalling the greek mythos of Aries and Sagittarius that you noticed your heart beating a little faster. You realized something had shifted between the two of you, and, holy shit, was this what it felt like to have a crush! When the hell did that happen?

You'd entrusted everything to Hanta back then, and now, laying in the sand shoulder to shoulder while he talked about Draco, that familiar feeling stirred again. You remembered what it was supposed to be like when you weren't forcing it for some random guy. How simple it was supposed to be.

You inclined on an elbow and he stopped mid-sentence. "Eh, everything alright?" You nodded but he looked anything but convinced, mirroring your position and asking you again.

It was easy for you to lean forward, to brush your lips against his for the first time in three years. And, when you pulled away, he looked about as shocked as he had the night you'd done it when you were eighteen.

"You- you still like me?"

When you left for America, you'd both agreed to put a pause on your sort of relationship. Free to date and screw whomever you pleased because three years was a long time and it just seemed like a fair decision to make. The realization that he might now have someone else special in his life dawned on you...

"Yeah but I totally understand if things are different now and I shoulda asked- oof!"

He kissed you so hard you toppled back into the sand, quick pecks, one right after another, ending them with a long one that nearly left you breathless.

"I didn't know how to bring it up. I didn't want to make you feel awkward about things or make you think I expected something. I thought that maybe since we didn't talk for a while your feelings might have changed."

"I can say with confidence they haven't."

"Thank fuck." He groaned and captured your lips in another searing kiss.

It was easy to lift his shirt off, the shreds of tape that remained were now covered with gritty sand that clung to your fingers as you traced the chest and torso you knew so well. Gliding over defined muscles, lingering on old scars and mapping out new ones he'd collected in your time apart.

His own hands were busy flicking open the brass fastenings of your corset, huffing about it being so much more difficult to get to your chest and something about it being very unfair.

By the time he'd undone the last one, bright headlights shown across the beach. "Shit."

Giggling ensued from the walkway and you both sighed, at least it wasn't the police or a hero patrol. Hanta gathered his shirt and ran back to his car with his hand in yours.

"I thought our days of being caught were over."

"At least it wasn't Mr. Aizawa this time."

A chill ran down your spine remembering the night and the lecture you'd received when your teacher had caught Hanta sneaking out of your room early one morning.

"So, uh, do you still plan on going to Denki's party?" You asked innocently enough but Hanta knew you far too well.

"I think I'm gonna miss it this year." His hand found a home on your upper thigh. "Apparently, you and I have a lot of catching up to do. Lost time to make up for and all that."

"Too bad you don't have that old station wagon anymore. If you did, we wouldn't have to wait to get back."

Dark eyes glanced over at you not so subtly parting your legs.

"I dunno. It's not too often I travel in the backseat of my own car but I've been told it's pretty roomy. Lots of legroom."

Your hand ran over your legs, dipping down to lightly brush your more sensitive parts, thankful you opted for the thin pair of black leggings rather than the dark skinny jeans. Your fingers danced again and this time you let a soft moan pass your lips. "Eyes on the road, Hants."

"That's a little hard to do when I've got you spread out in the passenger's seat." He grabbed your free hand and pressed it against the bulge in his pants. "You've got me distracted, filthy little woman."

You appreciated him testing the waters, a subtle way of checking if you liked those nicknames he used only in private with you, giving you a chance to protest if your likes had changed. They were one's that only felt right coming from him and you were eager to hear more.

Forgoing your own high, you leaned over the center console as best you could, undoing his belt first, followed quickly by his zipper letting his strained cock be free.

His grip tightened on your leg when you kissed the tip of him. "Just like old times, huh?"

A chuckle turned quickly into a moan, taking him in your mouth, pushing yourself further on his cock, fighting your gag reflex to get him down your throat. Hanta reclined his seat further, giving you more room to work with.

Your legs clenched tighter with every groan you pulled from him, wiggling your hips in the seat, letting a hand fall back between your own legs. There was an attempt of a moan around his cock when his fingers coiled in your hair. "Such a good slut. Keep fuckin' goin'." He let you continue at your own speed, needing to focus as best he could on the road rather than what you were doing but, damn, you were making that increasingly difficult.

He wasn't stopping you though. He rarely did. You'd sucked him off on countless drives before and only stopped when- "That's it." He lifted you off him by your hair at the same time he pulled off the road. There was a convenient turn-off, hidden by overgrown brush you noticed before he shut off the headlights.

Hanta took you by the chin, smearing drool. "Backseat, pretty girl." He reached into the glove box and pulled out a foil wrapper, "What do you say we test out that legroom?"

He wait to watch your smile grow wide before crawling into the back because he had to be the first to go if this had any chance of working. Once situated, pants under his thighs, he patted his lap for you to climb over.

You slid easily onto his lap, hands traveling up and over his shoulders, kissing hard while you rocked your hips against impossibly hard length.

There was so much comfort in the familiarity of him. It wasn't awkward to fall back into rhythm with Hanta, to remember that he loved the feeling of your nails dragging down his chest. And he was just as eager to get your shirt off, reach your breasts he'd missed so much, and get his tongue on your nipples.

Your head tipped backward, loving the pace he set, hips bouncing creating the perfect tug on your nipples between his teeth.

"Love, if I promise to buy you a new pair, can I rip these damn leggings? They're just so thin and-"

"Please." Your breathy moan had him smirking and with a single grunt the leggings were ruined, cool air from the vents had only a moment to touch your bare ass before Hanta's hands reclaimed it.

There was no way he hadn't felt your arousal before ripping your clothes off, you soaked through your panties and leggings, you knew that, but that didn't stop him from commenting on how soaked you were now on his fingers. "Want me inside you, whore? I think you do."

You nodded with a whimper and he slipped a finger in. "Hants, noo- I- I want your cock, please."

"You're gonna take my fingers like a good little slut first." You clenched at the words falling from his mouth. "So fuckin' tight you can barely take a finger. How'm I supposed to fit in here if you can even take a single finger? Need you to loosen up, alright." He pushed another finger in, scissoring the two inside you.

"This gonna make you cum? You need this bad, don't you? Tell me. Tell me how bad you need to cum."

"I want it. Please, please, I need it. I'm so close," You babbled and ripped the foil open with his teeth, rolling it with one hand on his cock. In an instant, his fingers had been replaced with this dick. Sticky fingers on your ass helping you ease down on him with a hiss.

"Fuck," Hanta let out a throaty chuckle, "You still fuckin' feel the absolute best." He dropped a kiss between your breasts, letting you adjust to his girth. "Perfect. Good girl. Such a fuckin' good little slut."

He wasn't about to last long. Not once you started bouncing up and down on him, your tits right in front of his face.

"Couldn't even wait for me to get you home, had to fucking tease me in the damn car." He held onto the fat of your ass, pulling you along him and slamming you down hard.

"Kinda pathetic how desperate you are. Fuck. Kinda hot too."

When the top of your head bumped the roof of the car, he scooted lower, trying to give you as much room to ride him however you pleased.

"What do you need? You wanna cum, don't you, pretty girl, what do you need?"

"Faster, faster please."

Hanta shifted even lower, making you grab onto the two headrests while he thrust his hips up into you at a rapid speed. His thumb on your clit was the additional stimulation you needed to fall over the edge. Nails clawing at the black leather as he continued to moan below you now chasing his own release.

You stayed poised above him, using every last bit of strength to stay upright until his mouth was rambling and his cock pulsed inside of you. Fingers bruising your skin before holding your pelvis snuggly against his.

He was bent in a way that looked entirely uncomfortable and yet he still smiled so widely. Reaching up to brush hair out of your eyes, "You okay?"

"Perfects, Hants. A little sore but I'm sure you are too." He moved off his lap, letting him slip out of you with a groan, "Is your neck gonna be okay?"

"I'll be fine. Having you back, love, is more than worth a little bit of a neck cramp."

As he tied a knot in the condom, depositing it into a plastic bag he had tucked away under his seat, Hanta raised a brow, "Love, really, are you alright? Please, tell me if I hurt you at all."

"No! I'm good, why?"

"You're sitting silly."

You were sitting a little odd, perched on your knees rather than sitting on your ass because the leather was chilly and you told Hanta as much making him laugh. "Wait, I think I can help." He leaned back to the front of the car, flicking a button making it glow. Once he tucked himself back in his pants he hopped out of the car and you could see him rummaging in his trunk through the rear window.

"I keep forgetting to take this out from our camping trip a couple months ago. Guess it turned out to be a good thing." He laid the blanket down over the passenger's seat, declaring that should help a bit.

You wrapped the now toasty warm blanket around your bottom half while Hanta drove back towards the city, your head on his shoulder, his hand on your thigh.

"So, shopping tomorrow? I believe I owe you a pair of leggings..."

"It's a date."

#mha #mha smut #bnha #bnha smut #hanta sero #sero #sero smut #hanta sero smut #sero x reader #sero x y/n #hanta x y/n #hanta x reader #mha x y/n #mha x reader #smutober #kinktober 2021

[shivada-jade]

soulmates!

soulmate!au because im weak. you're weak too.

characters: bennett, zhongli, diluc ➡ mentions: barbara, lisa, guizhong, hu tao, kaeya, crepus warning(s): bennett luck (he gets hurt a lot), wrote this at 2:48am so my writing may or may not make sense

bennett: feels the same emotions from the other, but the emotions have to be strong and genuine

he never understood your sudden bursts of sadness. it would come at the most inconvenient at times.

for as long as he could remember, the emotions that weren't his are mostly sad. he asked his dads about it and gently told him his soulmate system is feeling emotions from the other.

after crying from an unknown pain, he made it his soul purpose to constantly be happy all the time, no matter how unlucky he could be so you can be happy too.

his dads worry when he falls down and scrapes his knee, but he would always reply with, "i'm not hurt! my soulmate is hurt!"

he would then clutch the fabric on his chest tightly, like he's been stabbed with a sword and say, "my soulmate hurts right here."

he heaves a breath, "it doesn't compare to whatever luck i get."

"this pain is bearable," he convinces himself when he comes out a hilichurl camp in cuts and bruises.

"your soulmate needs you to be happy for them," he chastises himself for shedding a tear when another adventurer wronged him.

he visits barbara to heal his wounds and asks how she always looks so... happy, so smiley.

"all it takes is one smile to make yourself happy. it can be a slow process but it works!" she singsongs, "miss lisa showed me a study about it."

ever since barbara explained, he smiles the brightest of smiles in mondstadt. he refuses to let other adventurers let him down, worried he might hurt you more than it is.

soon, he finds out that he feels no sadness coming from you. he feels no weight on his shoulders. he feels happy after Good hunter ran out of food for him.

these are not my emotions, he thinks, a wide grin creeping it's way to his face.

he lets out the loudest laugh, giggles, and various joyous noises. he's never felt so happy in his life. for once, he feels lucky, because for once, you're finally happy in the other end of his invisible red string of fate.

his luck skyrockets when he sees a person around his age, with a gorgeous smile adorning their features. he knows its you, sitting by the fountain making wishes. he knows it's you when he sees your eyes that hold so much emotion.

it was as if his heart was tugging him to where you sat.

he's never felt so lucky to have you as his soulmate.

"thank you giving the best smiles"

zhongli: every time he passes his soulmate, he hears the sounds of bells ringing

now, zhongli never thought he would have a soulmate because of his past title of 'archon.' soulmate systems are a tricky thing. he knows there are so many ways to know your soulmate system.

the common system was their first words tattooed on themselves. many others had the ability to know when they meet them, in other words, a count down.

but zhongli never had those two, nor did he have faith in the soulmate system until the lantern rite festival.

walking by the busy streets, he muses to himself how pretty liyue is under the blanket of the moon and stars. he hears the merchants call to customers, attracting and waving at them to buy their products. he hears the clink of the mora in their bag is loud; the laughter from the children young and old marry a soft smile to his face.

he freezes, hearing something that should not belong in the lantern rite. the sound of bells ringing. it isn't any cow bell, or school bell. it's the sound of echoing, melodious wedding bells ringing his ear.

he vaguely remembers his friend guizhong mentioning about this rare particular soulmate system when she still roamed teyvat.

a soulmate!

zhongli stands straighter, eyes grazing on the sea of people, trying to see if anyone stopped to hear the bells he heard. he mutters a few apologies when people bump into him with lanterns in their hands, but that doesn't matter to him.

fate brought someone for him to love. it's just that... he doesn't know where.

he walks forward, he walks backwards to where he came from. he walks to the docks then to the top of liyue harbour, but he can't hear the sound of the bells again.

he doesn't panic. he doesn't rush, because he knows fate will bring you back together. he just doesn't know how long until he'll hear the bells again.

it came to him a surprise when he hears the bells everyday after that.

everyday when he sits at third-round knockout he hears the sound of bells behind him, but when he turns, he knows you've left already.

he sighs, blowing on his tea before taking light sips. it seems he won't be meeting you today.

one day, the ringing just stops. there's no sign of you, or your presence. zhongli assumes you're just taking a sick day, or you've decided to rest, but after a week of not hearing the bells, he worries.

archons, how he wanted to look for you, but he doesn't even know who you are. hu tao encourages zhongli to take the day off and look for you, so he did.

walking aimlessly in liyue, doubt crosses his mind. what if you were here for a business trip and left? it wasnt until he passes by a stunning figure he hears the bells again. he stiffens and turns to you when you stopped next to him.

"thank goodness," he says, slightly covering his smile with a gloved hand.

your eyes sparkle as you look at him, "thank goodness indeed."

diluc: lost possesions will come to your soulmate

for as long diluc knows, strange things always end up in his possessions: hairclips, pens, coins, and archons forbid- his soulmate's overdue bills.

his father laughs when younger diluc comes home dragging a wagon and the biggest teddy bear in history, because how on teyvat does someone lose a teddy bear taller than a door. crepus watches his son struggling to drag the big toy home and sees his other son pushing the wagon from behind, also struggling.

"what do you have there?"

all the response he gets are grunts. the side of his eyes crinkle with mirth, seeing his two sons having trouble bringing it home.

"father!" diluc calls out with a grin missing two of his front teeth, "i don't know where it came from. it's like it appeared from the sky."

"it actually did fall out of the sky!" kaeya says, "we were at the vineyard and i saw diluc get crushed!"

"i did not get crushed."

"did too," kaeya retaliates, sticking his tongue out.

that was the first time diluc heard of this certain soulmate system. lost things from his soulmate go to his possession; lost things from diluc go to his soulmate's possession.

crepus glances at his boys and gets an idea. he calls for them to follow him, and they do, obediently. he leads them to his room, pulling out a treasure chest full of frilly clothes, dresses, outfits that range from a farmer's outfit to a noblewoman.

"this chest is where your mother kept her favourite things," crepus pulls out a necklace from the bottom of the case. "this necklace was particularly her favourite."

diluc can see why. he's mesmerized by the ruby sparkle it hangs. the gold chain complimenting the red jewel and making it complete.

crepus clutches the necklace, looking at it longingly before placing it back in the chest. he places out all the old clothes from the container and lays it on his bed.

"you can keep your soulmate's things here like i once did. your pops is getting too old anyway, i-"

kaeya interrupts crepus jumps on the clothes that are on the bed, creating a havoc in the room. he jumps on the bed with so much energy even after diluc tells him about the story of the 5 little monkeys jumping on the bed.

though, crepus is having none of that. he picks up diluc by his small arms and flings him to kaeya, looking like a bowling ball knocking down a pin. the two boys gasp for air, shooting dirty looks at their father before they chase him out of the house.

the corner of diluc's mouth twitch up ever so slightly, remembering when he first knew of his soulmate. it would take a very observant person to notice his smile. he polishes the glass behind angel's share's counter. under the filtered sunlight, the glass glints. satisfied with the cleanliness.

the chest his father game him was fill of trinkets his soulmate had lost over the years, and good grief. his soulmate must be the most disorganized person ever. he remembers walking to dawn winery and a sack of mora drop on his feet. it wasn't a pleasant feeling, but the thing that has diluc worried is how his soulmate tends to lose the biggest things like a 7-foot-tall teddy bear.

diluc is about to place the wine glass on a cupboard until SMACK.

a thick paper hits his face from seemingly nowhere and so he knows that is his soulmate losing the tenth thing for the day. he has a room dedicated for the things his soulmate has lost, and he thinks he might need a second room.

he pulls the paper off his face and his eyes widen in shock. this two-inch thick paper are legal documents. loan agreements. overdue loan agreements.

[Name] [Last Name]

he notes the name in his head. [Name] owes the fatui 35 thousand mora as interest. what kind of reckless person- then it hits his mind. that sack of mora that fell from the sky was that 35 thousand to pay off the loans.

he knows where to go. he leaves the wineglass on the counter for charles to pick up and hastily grabs his coat and leaves the door.

"liyue, liyue, liyue, and the fatui." he chants in his head. loans. he greets his maid before ascending to his room. he snatches the mora that dropped on his feet and sprints out the door to retrieve his stallion.

a few hours at most to make it to where his fated partner was at, and so he sets off.

arriving at liyue is strange, seeing diluc's attire did not match the city, and seeing his hands are holding the reins of his horse tightly. a strange traveler from a foreign land... with a majestic stallion. he looks like a prince straight out of a fairytale.

he lightly pats his horse, urging to go a bit faster from the trotting they were doing until he meets the gaze of a distressed person in front of the fatui.

"i swear! i had the money and the papers just today!"

diluc scoffs, knowing who they were now, and they did not have the money today. they lost it a week ago.

"listen," the masked fatui grumbles. "im just here to do my job. if i don't have the money in my hands right now i'll-"

diluc jumps off the saddle and unloads the sack of mora from the side, dropping it on the fatui's hand with a seething glare, yet still polite.

"i believe they owe you 35 thousand? sounds about right, no?" he says, letting his diplomatic side show a bit. "for the sake of it, why not amuse me and take this, david. hmm?"

the fatui goes rigid, hearing his name. he slowly lifts his eyes up, "master diluc." he curtly nods and skittishly walks away. one time david spilled drinks at a mondstadt political gathering. he spilled it on diluc.

the ragnvindr waits for the fatui to walk away before turning to his, supposedly love of his life.

"you're the one who lost a 7-foot-tall teddy bear when i was six," he points out, waiting for your response.

his soulmate sheepishly smiles, "well- i would have a good defense but hey, did you at least enjoy having a 7-feet-tall teddy bear fall on you?"

"i did, along with a glass mug falling on me as well."

"i just cant believe how you never lose your stuff!" they retort, "the only thing i got was a missing tooth from you."

the tip of diluc's ears turn the same colour as his hair, but still wears a stoic expression. "i'm diluc ragnvindr," he greets, slightly bowing his head.

"and i'm yours"

part 2: with ganyu, kaeya and thoma

#genshin impact #genshin #genshin impact x reader #genshin headcanons #bennett #zhongli #diluc #diluc x reader #zhongli x reader #bennett x reader #diluc ragnvindr

[drarrily-we-row-along]

Day 116: Silver

The problem was that the entire house was grey.

Not metaphorically speaking, of course. No, Harry was actually a little in love with the house itself. It was a cozy little two bedroom home with a nice big kitchen that had an island in the center and a breakfast nook in the corner by the window. And the bathroom had a giant bathtub for soaking and relaxing. The living room had bookshelves built into the walls and a cozy fireplace that Harry couldn't wait to use in the fall and winter.

Metaphorically speaking, the house was sunshine-yellow. Harry adored it.

But every wall in the house was literally grey. His realtor had assured him that grey walls were very fashionable and that he'd grow to like them in time if he just gave them a chance.

So he'd given them a chance. He waited to fall in love with the walls for three whole days before he decided that he simply couldn't take it anymore.

He went to the little muggle hardware store down the street and bought seven gallons of paint; sea foam for the bathroom, coral for the kitchen and breakfast nook, cerulean for his bed room, emerald for the guest bedroom, raspberry for the living room, crisp white for the entry way and all of the doorways, and crimson for the front door. Harry bought paintbrushes, rollers, drop cloths, painters tape, and even a fancy tool to get the corners.

Thankfully, the shop owner let him borrow a little wagon to take everything back on and in no time Harry had the tape up to protect ceilings and doorways, he had drop cloths covering the hard wood floors, and he was ready to start.

He didn't know how long he was at it, but he'd finished the front door, the entry way, and the kitchen when a familiar voice was calling out to him from the open front door. "Potter?"

"Draco," he said in surprise, making his way through the stacks of covered furniture to find his bemused looking auror partner standing on the front steps with a bottle of wine and a house plant. "Hi," he said.

"Hello," the other man replied. "Is it a muggle custom to simply leave one's door open?"

(Read more below the cut)

"No," Harry said with a laugh, "My paint is just drying."

"Have I come at a bad time?" Draco asked, brow furrowing slightly. "I should have sent a patronus ahead of me to check, I'm sorr-"

"It's fine," Harry assured quickly, "I told you to come by any time. Come in. Please."

"Are you certain?" he asked.

He nodded, "Come on. Just don't touch the walls."

Draco followed him inside and held out the wine and the plant, "These are for you," he offered, "house warming presents."

"Thank you," Harry said, genuinely touched. "Really, you didn't have to-"

"I wanted to."

"Thank you," he said again.

After a moment of simply staring at one another, an activity that was becoming increasingly, worryingly common for the two of them, Draco said, "So! Show me your house." He grinned, silver eyes twinkling with mischief, "Give me the grand tour."

Harry laughed, "Well, you'll have to forgive the mess," he said as he headed toward the kitchen, "I'm painting."

"I can see that," he teased. "What was wrong with the color the walls were when you moved in?"

He made a face as he tucked the wine into the refrigerator, "They were all grey!" he said. "Every. single. wall. Grey!"

Draco laughed, "Alright, tell me about your vision for each room."

Happily, Harry complied; taking Draco around the house room by room and telling him about the color palette for each space, the new furniture and decorations he was thinking about buying to complete each room.

By the time they made it back to the living room, Draco was chuckling under his breath.

"What?" he asked, "What are you laughing at?"

"Just you," he said with a little shake of his head. "This is so like you."

"How so?"

With a wistful little smile, Draco looked around the room like he could already see what Harry was going to do. "There's just so much life here, you know? You just," he shrugged a little helplessly, "Everywhere you go, you make things come to life."

He blinked at him and opened his mouth to say something and nothing came out. He swallowed back what felt suspiciously like tears and then managed, "That might be the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me."

A flush flared across Draco's cheeks and Harry admirably resisted the urge to trail his nose over the blush. "Don't let it go to your head," the other man said with a huff.

Harry laughed, "Do you want to stay?"

"Sorry?"

He shrugged, "Do you want to stay and help paint? It's actually pretty fun."

"I don't have the appropriate attire," he said after a moment.

"I have extra joggers and t-shirts you can borrow if you'd like?" he offered.

The corner of Draco's mouth tipped up, "If you don't mind. I've never painted the muggle way before."

"It feels good," Harry said as he started off toward his room to fetch clothes for Draco to borrow. "It feels like you've really accomplished something."

Draco laughed, following along behind him, "Ah, yes. I can see how you, who brought in only thirteen criminals to the DMLE this week alone, might feel the need to 'really accomplish something,'" he teased.

"Shut it," Harry said good naturedly as he dug out clothes for Draco to borrow and threw them at his head.

Draco caught them and Harry's eyes snagged on Draco's, holding them for a beat too long again, before he cleared his throat, "I'll see you in a few minutes," he offered lamely before fleeing his own bedroom.

----------

After several hours of painting (and laughing, and singing and dancing along with the wireless, and cleaning dripped paint off of several surfaces that it should never have been on in the first place) they decided to take a break for dinner.

They ordered a pizza and ate it sitting on the floor in the living room while they drank the bottle of wine Draco had brought. And as Harry stared at the rosy blush coloring Draco's cheeks from the wine and the laughter, he tried to remember the last time he'd felt this free and happy.

When he couldn't eat one more bite, Harry flopped down on his back on the floor in the living room with a groan, "My shoulder hurts from painting."

Draco nudged him with his knee. "You're getting old, Potter," he said with a little smile.

And he meant it as a joke but it twisted something in Harry's gut uncomfortably, "I never imagined I'd grow old," he confessed softly.

The smile slipped from Draco's face, "Harry, I didn't mean-"

"It's alright," Harry said quickly, reaching out to press his pinky against Draco's. "It just my parents died really young, and there was everything with Voldemort, and for a long time after that I thought that surely one of his followers would finish me off," he shrugged. "And I just didn't expect to get old."

"You listen to me, Harry Potter," Draco said fiercely, his eyes bright in a way that made Harry's heart clench in his chest. "You are going to live to be ancient. Older than Dumbledore and infinitely happier."

"Oh?" he asked, smiling in spite of himself.

"Yes."

"How do you know?" he asked.

Draco narrowed his eyes at him, "Because I do. And if there is something else destined for you, I will make it so by sheer force of will." He wrapped his pinky around Harry's and something thrilled in the pit of Harry's stomach, "You deserve the world and if the world will not hand itself over on a silver platter, I will give it to you."

He sat up and pressed his lips to the other man's without another thought because it was honestly nothing short of a miracle that he hadn't done it before now. And honestly, how was he supposed to resist kissing him when the other man said things like that? "I love you," he breathed when he pulled back. And then he immediately wanted to take those words back, "Sorry," he spluttered as he collapsed back onto the floor and covered his face with his hands, "Godric, I don't know what's come over me. Sorry. Just forget-"

Draco's lips covered Harry's and stemmed the flow of words coming from his mouth.

"Mmrmph," Harry murmured against his mouth inelegantly before giving himself over to the kiss completely and reaching up to cup Draco's face with his hands.

"Don't be sorry," Draco whispered when he drew back a moment later, "Please say you meant it."

"I meant it," Harry replied softly as he brushed Draco's hair back.

"Good," Draco said, leaning down to kiss him softly once more. "Because I love you, too."

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Day 115: Soft | Day 117: Movie

#100 drarry drabbles in 100 days #I should probably just change the tag to one year of drarry drabbles at this point #one year of drarry drabbles #drarry #fluff #love confessions #happy #like they just deserve to be happy and I'm feeling emotional about that so here this fic is #drarry ficlet #drarry drabbles #my writing #thank you for the prompt!