#murswrites

[murswrites]

PEAKY BLINDERS MASTERLIST

List of fandoms  / Rules for Requesting / Masterlist

1. Thomas Shelby Masterlist

2. Peaky Women Masterlist

3. Junior Peaky Boys Masterlist

4. Angry Boys Masterlist

5. No Pairing Masterlist

6. Minor Characters Masterlist

[murswrites-ocs]

Stranger Things OC Challenge Day Two: Joy Division, Bowie, Television, The Smiths… Master of Puppets by Metallica

[murswrites]

Of Witches & Wolves ⎯ Matthias Helvar Masterlist

Pairings: Matthias Helvar x Named Grisha!OC Fandom: Grishaverse MASTERLIST Word Count: TBT Warnings: Cursing, in depth descriptions of Grishas v Fjerdans, Angst, and likely some others I am missing. SUMMARY: Rowan Yulianova is sent to Fjerda for a Drüskelle that is pure of heart and finds Matthias Helvar. Rowan befriends the very person they're supposed to take prisoner.

Table of Contents:

Burning Blizzard

Could Be In Love

Their Throat

The Cabin

Let Me Help

Just a Boy

Sit With Me

Lost Time

The Inn

Shut Up

The Drüskelle Guard

Sorry

Good Different

A Summoner

Matthias Helvar

Take Me Instead

To Protect Him

Tradition is Tradition

Author's Note: This is a chapter fic based off of the one-shots I wrote in 2022/23. Yes the OC is named Rowan, listen y'all... I like my own name LMFAO. There are around 18 chapters already finished, I am messing up the Grishaverse for my own sick enjoyment.

I hope you all enjoy my take on the Grishaverse. I cannot go without mentioning my mutual Olive, thank you for curating our Grishaverse fanon with me<3333 @retvenkos I am so excited for this new year >:)

The first three chapters are very similar to the x Reader fics I previously published, but there are some changes made to make it fit into an OC x Matthias fic! Thank you all :)

[murswrites]

Let Me In ⎯ Joel Miller One-Shot P1

Pairings: Joel Miller x AFAB!Reader Fandom: The Last of Us MASTERLIST Word Count: 3.4k Warnings: NSFW! 18+ ONLY, cursing, alcohol, cunnilingus, fingering, porn w/a LOT of plot SUMMARY: Y/N's a weaponsmith and Joel needs a new scope--they go scope out Eugene's place and unsaid tensions bring the pair closer than ever.

A/N Joel & reader fuck on the same couch Dina & Ellie eventually fuck on & honestly I find that kinda poetic. The exposition (aka pre-smut) is kinda long bc I cannot help but make the build-up kinda realistic, part two will be out whenever I post it lmfao.

There weren't many people who knew you all too well. You had turned 20 right before outbreak day and basically grew up in the apocalypse. FEDRA scooped up every single able-bodied young adult they could find in the early days.

You’d seen a lot of shit as a soldier–a lot of infected, but even more dead people. Losing a lot of friends along the way has a way of making someone’s nervous system… shut down. You outright refused to make friends with anyone in Jackson. It was hard enough working near the makeshift school the town put up.

Only a few of the kids had the balls to even talk to you–you wouldn’t admit it… but you could be a dick sometimes.

Weaponsmithing was something you learned as a soldier, with limited resources people had to get creative. Bullets were among the first thing you learned how to recycle but soon enough you were creating guns from spare parts. That was your role in Jackson, if someone had an issue with their firearm or any blades, you’d be sure to fix it up.

The small talk is where your dickheadedness really shined through, you’d always been shitty at it. Some townsfolks would come by frequently–mostly the ones who worked patrols and Joel Miller happened to be one of those people. He was similar to you in the way that he couldn’t bullshit a conversation if he had a script.

The first few weeks of him coming by to get ammo or his guns cleaned were quiet. He’d explain what he was looking for and then you’d provide him with your service. Simple.

But his guns were different than everyone else’s. He customizes them. One time Joel gave you his handgun because it kept jamming and there was an extended clip, it intrigued you–but you didn’t say anything back then.

The special touches he put on his weapons became a topic of conversation, sometimes he’d stop in just to see if you had anything new of interest. His daughter, Ellie, liked to come in as well (one of the few kids who liked you which was probably because she was just like Joel who was just like you).

Strangely enough, you liked Ellie, she could be a bit annoying at times but you were once a little dickweed teenager. You understood her and why she was such a spitfire. To survive in this world, you have to be strong.

—

“I’m looking for a new scope for this rifle–it’s for Ellie’s birthday.” Joel didn’t even bother with a “hi” or a “hello” as he pushed open the shop door.

You’d been working on reattaching a strap to someone’s crossbow as he entered, “I’m afraid that I haven’t gotten anything new in weeks.” You sat the screwdriver down, “Haven’t had the time to go looting.” Most of what you stocked was either from you looting yourself or the rare occasion when you’d give out a list to some of the people on patrols.

“Can I enlist you in finding something for this?” He sat the gun on your counter, it was beautiful.

“Wow, where’d you find this?” Joel mumbled something about his brother, Tommy. You knew Tommy Miller well enough and knew Maria even more so. She had been the reason you found out about the settlement. Before Maria decided to cut ties with the world, she allowed a few radio broadcasts to be sent out and it saved your life. You would have died as a FEDRA soldier if you hadn’t heard her call.

You lifted the gun and looked through the scope it had already, the glass was cracked and the metal was a bit dented. “I’d bet I could talk old Eugene into letting me sneak a peek through his shit.” Eugene was another one of the few people who seemed to tolerate you. You weren’t necessarily mean–just off-putting (and for good reason).

“Is that so?” Joel asked quizzically, raising his eyebrows as he did so. His expressions entertained you quite a bit–it was an excuse to stare without seeming strange. You liked looking at him. It felt stupid to think that he sounded jealous that you’d go to Eugene for help.

You ignored that thought, nodded, and sat the rifle down, “Tell you what, let me know your patrol schedule and I’ll talk to Eugene. I know that fucker has some kinda stash hidden somewhere.”

Joel’s momentary distaste was gone as he nodded, “Sounds good to me, darling.” Him and his fucking pet names.

You chopped it up to his “southern hospitality” but couldn’t help but wonder why he continually called you cute things. Darling, sweetheart, and honey were among his most commonly used pet names. It only made things increasingly complicated in your brain. To engage or not to engage–it was a tightrope you balanced on every single time you interacted with Joel Miller.

Hopefully, he didn’t see how your eyes would widen at the use of a simple adjective or how you have a little pep in your step after seeing him. That’d kinda ruin the whole mysterious ex-FEDRA soldier thing you have going on.

—

You could have gone to Eugene’s with Eugene but he claimed to be busy–you also could go alone… but why do that when Joel was the one interested in finding something for his kid? That was certainly the only reason you’d knocked on his door that evening proposing a plan to make the journey to Eugene’s secret hideout.

“We could leave tomorrow morning, nice and early, and be back before it’s dark out.” You said with a shrug.

Joel looked a bit strung out, “How’s 8 am sound?”

You began to argue that was early for you but you didn’t for the sake of his (probably fragile) sanity. “Sounds good to me, Joel.” Part of you wished you’d called him “handsome” or “cowboy” just for shits and giggles.

As you turned away from him, his voice caught your attention, “Do you wanna come in? Maybe have a few drinks?”

In the last four years of living in Jackson, nobody ever invited you over for… literally anything outside of work. It caught you completely off guard. Your brain didn’t know how to respond–for one, you didn’t like drinking and the more obvious reason was that you didn’t have any friends.

Maybe Joel counted as a friend, you two talked pretty consistently, but you knew that if you didn’t run the weaponsmithing shop… the chances of seeing him frequently would plummet. 

“Um… I don’t actually drink.” You didn’t want to say no to his offer, “You could drink and I can live vicariously through you?”

To your surprise, he smiled at that and nodded. You entered the house slowly, taking it in with your eyes much quicker than your body moved. There were paintings on the wall and the curtains were yellowed. The rug was gorgeous despite its age, you wanted to be an interior designer prior to the outbreak.

“Why don’t you drink?” Joel sounded genuinely curious–not in a judgy way which you appreciated.

“The taste is far from ideal and don’t even get me started on the smell.” Your face contorted in disgust. “Let's just say those two years I spent in university before all this shit ruined alcohol for me.” You weren’t a party animal–more of an alcoholic to be honest.

Joel hummed in response and left you in the living room, you looked at the bookshelf curiously.

“I’ve got some lemonade Ellie made if you’d be interested?”

Something cool and refreshing sounded like a dream, “I’d love some, thank you.”

—

You were fucking beat the next morning. Your night ended sometime between 12 and 2 am–you always struggled with falling asleep. The night was spent talking and learning more about one another. Joel was an interesting person, he was touchy with some topics but overall, you two got along really nicely.

He had a few drinks and seemed much more at ease with himself. Less uptight and stoic, it was nice seeing him in his natural state.

“I always look forward to seeing you, sweetheart.”

Joel said that as you left and you went home with hot cheeks. He could have worded it a hundred different ways, “I like coming by your shop.”, “You’re helpful.” etc. But he didn’t and you couldn’t stop thinking about what he really meant.

It was 7 am and you felt like you were dead–but you got out of bed anyway. And by 8:30 you two were on your way to Eugene’s hideout.

“He said he didn’t know what was in there but we had free reign, I’ll help look for the scope but then I’m going to search for something a little more specific.”

Joel tilted his head at you, “Specific like what?”

You were wide awake with the help of the crisp morning air, “I like to indulge in marijuana from time to time. Eugene said if I could find it… I can have some.”

“You prefer smoking over drinking?” You nodded, “Huh.”

“What’s that mean?” You asked.

Joel shrugged, “Just interestin’, I’m the opposite.”

—

It was early afternoon by the time you made it to the library, you guys took it easy. You could rush home after hopefully finding a scope. Thankfully, Eugene has his things in an organized chaos.

You two stand side by side, checking in every tub, box, and drawer for something of use. “Oh, what’s that?” Joel’s holding a comic book.

“Ellie likes these, thinking if we can’t find a scope–I might be able to trade Eugene something for ‘em.”

“That’s a good idea, but we will find a scope because there’s no way in hell that man doesn’t have a stash of gun-related goodies.” You were quite excited to find it, to be honest, the lack of supply runs has been making things a bit boring. “I’m hoping to find something for my bow and arrow,”

Joel readjusts his gun on his shoulder, “What’re you thinking?”

“You know that handmade bow I’ve got? I want to put a scope on it and replace the string, maybe even a new grip if there are any.” It’d be nice to have something of good quality again.

“Could you take a look at my rifle as well?” You nod without even thinking, “Thanks, sugar.” That’s a new one.

The pet name makes you pause as you confront yourself with the possibility of asking him about the night before. “When you said you always look forward to seeing me was that in a platonic way or–”

He cut you off, “Whichever way you’d prefer it to be.”

That wasn’t what you expected him to say but it sparked some confidence in you, “My likeness to a hermit doesn’t bother you?”

“I understand it.” You raised an eyebrow in a silent question, “It’s scary to let people in.” It was obvious that it took Joel a lot of effort to admit that and you admired him greatly. You couldn’t even admit how difficult it was to let people in most days.

“It’s horrifying. Especially after everything I’ve lost.”

Joel nodded slowly, “I lost my entire world.” He took a deep breath, “But… I want to be able to enjoy what time I do have left. Being alone drags down on the heart.”

“You say that like you’re gonna die so soon,” He shrugged. “Yea, I guess you’re right to not assume you have a long life ahead of you… I won’t say I’m sorry for what happened to you–but I am proud that you’re able to admit that you wanna live your life without guilt.”

There wasn’t much space between the two of you. The mutual understanding of what it meant, not to move on but to continue living without guilt that you weren’t grieving enough pushed you closer to him.

Joel’s eyes were flitting between yours and (presumably) your lips, “Only took me three decades.”

“I still haven’t admitted it, don’t beat yourself up, cowboy.” You worried it was insensitive to drop in a flirty pet name but it seemed Joel didn’t mind.

His jaw flexed and you found yourself keenly aware of every movement he made. The air felt thick with everything that hadn’t been said. His eyes captured your attention the most, they were such a rich shade of brown–warm.

“I gotta ask–I’m not wrong in assuming there’s something here, am I?”

You shook your head embarrassingly fast, “No, there definitely is. It’s kind of overwhelming but I trust you, Joel.”

That seemed to be what he needed to hear as he leaned forward to capture your lips. He was careful with his movements, you were unsure. Not because you were uncomfortable but because you didn’t have much experience in general.

You set down the VHS tape you’d been looking at and reached a hand up to Joel’s cheek. His facial hair was softer than you expected and your brain immediately went to the gutter as you whipped through a hundred fantasies in one second. Joel pulls away to lay his rifle on the pile of boxes and separates himself from his coat.

“When’d it get so hot in here?” It’s a rhetorical question but the chuckle that escapes from his chest makes you weak in the knees. Your coat soon follows as you two meet again–only this time you’re much closer and it’s harder to ignore the growing heat pooling between your legs.

He lowers his head to your neck and begins dropping kisses and bites here and there, each time his teeth grasp your skin you gasp in surprise. You’re surprised by how much you like the pain. Joel’s hands explore your back and behind, he pulls you as close as he can and it’s so much in such a good way.

One arm slings over his shoulder and your other hand is pushing through the hair at the nape of his neck, “Oh my–” He bites at the bend between your neck and shoulder and it’s euphoric.

“Is there–some kinda sofa or somethin’ here?” Joel’s voice is deliciously airy and somehow sounds deeper than usual.

You nod and grab his hand, leading him to the basement. Once you make it down, the smell of weed hits you like a freight train–Eugene prides himself on his plants.

Joel’s eyes grow wide with surprise and it makes you giggle, “It’s something, ain’t it?” He nods in agreement as you push him onto the sofa lightly. Joel raises his eyebrows and watches as you straddle his lap, you guide his hands onto your hips. That’s about all you know about being sexy and it seems to do the trick because you can feel him beneath you.

His lips are on your neck again and you’re gripping his blue flannel trying to keep your composure, how can someone’s tongue alone feel so good? Instantly to the gutter. Joel uses his hold on your hips to rock you back and forth over his lap, his hard-on presses into you beautifully and it makes your eyes roll back.

“You’re so sensitive…” Embarrassment covers your face as you stare at him, “It’s sexy,” Joel adds and you feel a little better. “I mean it,” He lifts his hips to push into you and the moan you let out is completely accidental.

“Jesus Christ I might actually fucking explode.” Rambling is probably the worst thing you do in intimate moments. “That feels… god… I can’t explain it,” You dip your head to latch onto his neck, sucking and licking–listening to his breathing to see what he likes.

When you bite in that same spot he did earlier, you feel him twitch. You draw back and look at where your bodies meet, your mouth waters at the thought of giving him head. “I want you in my mouth.” You finally admit, eyes wide as you try to gauge his response.

Joel tilts his head and his eyes narrow which confuses you for only a second. “I’m not gonna lie to you and say I have the best endurance in the world–let me treat you first?”

You nod slowly, “Okay, J.”

“J?” You smile shyly and he sets a hand on your cheek, “You’re just full of surprises,”

You slide off of his lap and onto the sofa, your back on the armrest as Joel kicks off his shoes–you do the same. He hovers over you, kissing you deeply once more. You raise your head to chase after him and his chuckle kills you a little.

“I’ll be back up there soon enough, baby.” Your hips rut up into his frontside subconsciously which causes Joel’s ego to grow even larger, “You love it when I call you all kinds of pretty names, don’t ya?”

“You know I do, Joel.” He smirks deviously and kisses above your collar. He nudges your shoulder with his nose and you take that as a hint to remove your shirt. You pull it over your head and he’s watching you with those chocolate eyes again. The way he stares at you makes you feel so… naked.

It’s like he can hear your thoughts. “Your turn,” You joke but he takes it seriously–leaning back on his heels to unbutton the uppermost buttons and slide the shirt off. Joel’s build is wide and thick. His shoulders span wide and his thighs are muscular.

“How about you let me make you feel real good?” You bite your lip in anticipation as he unbuttons your jeans, and you aid him in pulling them down your legs. It’s wash day so you’re wearing a pair of skimpy lace underwear. His adam’s apple bobs up and down as he makes eye contact with the wet patch on your crotch.

Joel reaches a hand forward and brushes two fingers up the length of your crotch, your eyes flutter shut and you sigh. “Can I take these–”

“Please.” You beg before he can even finish his sentence.

He’s gentler with removing your underwear, you feel hot and heavy when he stares into your eyes as he sniffs the lace number (and moans after). Somehow that’s the hottest thing you’d ever seen. You sigh loudly and watch as he settles between your legs.

First he admires you for a good 15 seconds, you can’t help but run a hand through his hair as he gazes upon your sex. Then he’s sliding a finger through your wetness, quickly finding your clit and focusing his attention there. You can feel Joel watching for your reaction. The way you scrunch your nose up and bite your lip, or when your breath catches from the way he bites into your thigh.

“Do that again.” Joel licks your other thigh and bites, “More,” The pain builds in a beautiful way which makes you squirm.

“I haven’t even touched you properly, darling.”

Something makes you answer confidently, “Then stop teasing.” You demand and the way his eyes bore into yours makes you backtrack, “…please stop teasing…”

“Good.” Joel takes your request in stride and uses his fingers to part your lips in order to access your most sensitive parts.

The instant his mouth is on you, you feel something building inside. Joel uses his thumb and pointer finger to circle your clit and literally makes out with your sex. It’s loud and you know it’s messy but it feels so fucking good. The few times you’d been eaten out were shitty in comparison–any other intimacy you had with other people is shitty in comparison to Joel.

Joel grabs a hold of the tops of your thighs–dragging you closer to his mouth as he groans into you. The vibrations make you gasp and unintentionally pull on his hair. You feel an orgasm coming and coming up on you quickly.

“Fuck–I’m close. I’m so close–oh my god–”

Joel focuses his mouth on your clit and slides a finger inside you. He curls it upward and you’re cumming all over his face and hand. Joel helps you ride through your orgasm by pumping his finger slowly in and out of you, he’s not licking anymore–just smelling and the thought that he enjoys your scent so much makes you even hotter.

You’re breathing heavily and trying to ground yourself as Joel sucks your cum off of his finger. “What the fuck?” You chuckle and wipe a hand down your face.

He watches you carefully, “You okay?”

“Yes, I am. I’m very okay, I’m just–WOW.” Joel smirks at himself and you finally catch your breath, “That’s the best orgasm I’ve ever fucking had–” You reach for the back of his neck and pull him in for a kiss. The taste of yourself makes you groan against Joel’s mouth.

[murswrites]

Patrols 1 ⎯ Joel Miller One-Shot

Pairings: Joel Miller x Nonbinary!Reader Fandom: The Last of Us MASTERLIST Word Count: 1.4k Warnings: Cursing, gore, panic attack, description of a bloater (yuck), y/n & joel being a weirdly good team ;) SUMMARY: Patrols have been kicking your ass but luckily you're paired with Joel Miller instead of Jesse. Unlucky for you: You're on patrol period.

A/N This has been in the works for like a year now LMFAO but I finished it instead of doing my work <3 Pedro Pascal IS the only Joel Miller I know <3 This is going to be a multi-part series so I'm not rushing relationship development

Patrols were kicking your ass. A recent resurgence of infected made for more work for everyone. It was exhausting but primarily annoying. You weren’t bad at patrols, you just didn’t like going on them. You were paired with Joel some of the time and Jesse others. It wasn’t too bad with Joel, he did the job and did it well.

Jesse on the other hand liked to make small talk and you weren’t known for your friendliness. Thankfully you were paired with Joel today, you would have collapsed from exhaustion had Maria put you with Jesse for the third day in a row.

“Mornin’,” Joel nodded toward you.

“Hey,” You yawned loudly from atop your horse, “Ready?”

He chuckled, “Seems you’re less ready than I am.” You shot him a dirty look, “Woah, I didn’t mean it like that, now.” Joel held his hands up.

Your horse, Ochre, was mild-mannered and usually sassy but it seemed she sensed you were exhausted. “Where are we patrolling today?”

“West side of the pines, someone said they heard somethin’ funny yesterday.”

“I bet you what we find isn’t going to make either of us laugh.”

Joel shook his head–a smile ghosting on his face. You were never too interested in getting closely related with anyone in Jackson. Sure, the town felt like home and you would protect the others with your life–but you didn’t have any family. Not like Joel did. He had his brother and a daughter.

You didn’t even have many close friends. Dina was the only person you could really tolerate, and by extension, you tolerated Ellie–Joel’s daughter. The two girls were the funniest people you’d ever met, they were the only people who could get you to crack a smile anymore. It was weird because ever since the outbreak, you’d been completely empty.

Only 17 when things went to complete shit–you were supposed to start college before the outbreak. That never happened. Nobody in your family made it out alive. You’d been in New York when it happened on your senior trip, everyone was at home, and before you could even think to go home… you were quarantined in NYC. You were probably lucky to be alive considering how quickly things spread in big cities.

Some days you wished you’d been unlucky. With how tired you were, today was looking like one of those days.

“Don’t fall asleep atop that horse now,” You yawned once more, struggling to find the energy to glare at Joel, “Hey, don’t give me that look. You should go on back.”

“We’re almost there, I’m fine.” You gathered the reins tighter and brought Ochre into a steady gallop. Joel sighed loudly but followed you.

The pine trees in this area were massive, they loomed over you two ominously. You hated this area of the woods the most. You two stopped and tied your horses to a tree, beginning to walk deeper into the woods.

“I honestly really hate these woods.” Your shotgun was heavy in your hands as you looked around quickly. “The trees look like infected sometimes.” You mumbled, keeping your focus on watching around you two.

Joel slides his rifle onto his back and carries his pistol in hand, “Ellie used to get frightened in this area, she said stalkers like to hide under the branches.”

You scoff at his attempt to make conversation, “That doesn’t help me at all, Miller. Let’s get this over with.”

—

Half an hour of wandering aimlessly, listening for the sound of infected. The only sound came from the pine needles under your feet. You were beginning to lose your patience, wanting to scream and hope for the best.

“I swear to god if they were making this up about there being infected out her–” Joel shushes you loudly and that sets you on high alert–raising your shotgun to look down the sight.

He jerks his head to the side and you slowly turn, two clickers were facing your direction. The infected chattered to one another and you leaned down to grab a hefty pine cone. You arched the cone over the pair of clickers. The clatter of the cone smacking a tree made one of them screech and rush for it.

Joel snuck behind the one that stayed behind and you followed his lead, slinging your shotgun over your shoulder and squeezing your shiv tightly. While he took out that clicker you moved as quietly as possible.

Your attention was pulled away when you spotted a runner a few yards away. Luckily it wasn’t paying you any mind and so you stood up behind the clicker and stabbed it through the fungal growth–effectively killing it. You didn’t know how but Joel got behind the runner and choked it out.

There being a runner meant that somebody was out here recently. Runners were quite rare all the way out here.

“Check that body, Miller, it’s a new one.”

Joel kneeled down, “Already on it,” You did the same with the clicker just to be sure that there wasn’t anything useful on it.

It wasn’t unusual to be rifling through the pockets of a dead body… you were desensitized to nearly every gory part of the new world. You just couldn’t get over the smell of blood. Copper and metallic would upset your stomach so bad that sometimes you’d have to wear a mask just wandering around.

“They were a Firefly.” Joel tossed their pendant to you.

Another commonality… while runners were rare, whenever they were found… it seemed more and more of them were Fireflies who had bad luck.

“Aren’t they all Fireflies these days?”

“Yup. Come on let’s make sure we got ‘em all.”

—

There were three more infected wandering in the pines. But the cabin ahead seemed to have been recently vacated.

“I really don’t want to go in there.” You admitted, cringing at the thought of what could be inside.

Joel shrugged, “Then stay here.” He was the only person who didn’t force you to follow him inside buildings. Typically you would but the cabin was small, what could go wrong?

You sat on the ground and leaned against a tree, now that there wasn’t anything to keep your focus on–you were getting sleepy. Just as your eyes began dropping a loud bang startled you into an upright position. “Joel!?”

The door to the cabin slammed outward and Joel stumbled out, “Might wanna run,” His eyes were wide with surprise. “Move!” Joel pushes you in front of him and you bolt.

You sneak a glance behind you and see it. A huge bloater with three legs and four arms, “What the fuck is that!?” The infected disgusted you and it made your stomach churn. “That’s so fucking nasty!”

“We just gotta get some distance between us and it.” The bloater was slow-moving and seemed very unstable. “We’re gonna kill the son of a bitch.” That didn’t sound like a question to you.

“I know. Just haven’t killed too many bloaters.” You began lighting a molotov cocktail, “Guess we should get to work?” Joel gave you a single nod and you both launched a molotov cocktail toward the bloater.

It roared in pain as the fire spread across its skin. Joel brandished his rifle and began taking calculated shots. You stepped a few feet closer in order to make best use of your shotgun ammo. The bloater took any chances it could to throw poisonous sacs of spores at you too. It made firing harder but after about ten minutes it finally went down.

You dropped your gun on the ground and sighed loudly, “I think I’m gonna pass out.”

“Woah, woah, woah, what’s happening?” You shrugged, Joel watched you carefully as your head spun. “Y/N, you need to breathe.”

When he said that you noticed a lack of air in your lungs and tried to force your body to do its job. But it was no use. Exhaustion paired with disgust pushed your brain into panic mode. You just wanted to lay down and die, honestly. You could tell Joel was a bit freaked out because if your actions (or lack thereof).

“I’m–” You gasped through a breath, forcing air into your nose. “I’m okay. Just really tired.”

Joel nodded, “How about you wait here and I’ll bring the horses to you?”

That sounded really nice, “Oh god, that’d be great. Thank you.” He gave you one long look before jogging off in the opposite direction.

Tags: @musicallisto <3

[murswrites]

Boyfriend Material ⎯ Steve Harrington One-Shot

Pairings: Steve Harrington x Reader Fandom: Modern!Stranger Things MASTERLIST Word Count: 2.5k Warnings: Fluff, cursing, it’s a party (alcohol consumption, drug mention), reader is 18, overuse of the word piss bc I’m fucked in the head, reader is normally ‘confident’ but is kinda shy around Steve, Robin is a Steve x Reader shipper <3 THIS IS NOT PROOFREAD SUMMARY: You go to a pink-themed party and see Steve Harrington... in a stupid pink vest. 

A/N This fic is 100% self indulgent and I DONT CARE if it’s cringy. I love this silly ass vest. It’s so <3 And yes, this is very cheesy. I might make a part 2 bc I considered adding more to the end after he gets out.... but idk. we’ll see LMAO. this is for myself & @plainemmanem​ :P

You weren’t usually the kind of person to come to these kinds of parties–and definitely not covered in such a light color. Darker clothes were what you preferred, but you refused to be the only person dressed in black in a sea of blush pink. Out of all the pastel colors, pink definitely was your favorite.

The only non-pink thing in your outfit was your jeans–they were black for the sake of not looking too crazy. You had a lot of pink things in your room but nobody would suspect that from you. The most color you wear in public is probably when there’s a band performance and you have to wear those silly ass uniforms.

Robin was the reason you were at the party in the first place. She refused to go by herself and she was SO sick of you pining after her best friend. “It’s like so goddamn annoying and so weird! Just talk to him! He’ll swoon!”

There’s a certain line you’re not willing to cross and trying to get with Steve Harrington certainly was one. But it was hard not to imagine it with how pretty he looked. His hair would always be styled perfectly–a stray hair always falling onto his forehead… somehow it still looked purposeful. Then his stupid jeans… you’d never known someone who filled out their jeans so nicely.

Even if he dressed like every other white guy, Steve Harrington pulled it off. And then there’s his face, it’s littered with beauty marks and he’s got this slight tan that makes him look like he’s glowing. He’s stupid pretty. And you feel so stupid for thinking that.

In your defense–it’s goddamn Steve Harrington. Before he graduated anybody with a brain knew he was pretty. And that was Robin’s main argument, “It’s Steve! He’s so lame.”

“Come on please, stop moping!” Robin was weirdly at ease. She was usually bouncing off the walls trying to find somewhere to hide from the loud music and sweaty teenagers.

You sighed loud enough for her to hear, “I am not moping. I am simply enjoying… this amazing music.” My House by Flo Rida was on, it wasn’t a bad song–just a bit cheesy considering this was a house party.

The sound that Robin let out was kind of freaky. It was some kind of snort and laugh in one and you stared at her for a second, “Oh come on! You’re enjoying standing in the corner as… Tina twerks on Tommy H?”

Your eyes snapped toward where Robin was pointing and you gaped at the sight before you, “I think I’d rather listen to my parents get it on, oh my god. I’m going outside.”

“I’m coming with!” Robin looped your arms together and you two made a quick escape for the back door. “Hey!”

You should have been looking in front of you and not down at your cup curiously, wondering where your punch went. As soon as Robin shouted you collided with someone. It was such a cliche–literally crashing into Steve Harrington as he entered the party.

His outfit was… definitely on theme. Too well on theme in your opinion. He was too pretty to be around all these people. There was a glare on your face as you groaned, you fell on your ass pretty hard.

“Oh shit, you okay?” Steve’s grabbing your arms… he’s touching your bare skin, he’s helping you up. And you’re just staring with a dirty look painted on your face. You’re not exactly computing anything. Just… looking at him. “...Are they okay?” He’s asking Robin and that pushes past the fog in your brain.

“Yes! I’m okay! Sorry!” You drag Robin outside with you, your head glued on the space in front of you.

Robin is instantly protesting as you yank her along, “Hey! Steve just got here, I gotta catch up!”

“You literally saw him two hours ago at work, Rob. And I just made an entire fool out of myself.”

She pouted at you, “Awe, no, you could make two fools out of you, dude.”

“You’re a dick.” You said with a groan, your face was hot from the complete embarrassment you felt. “I feel so dumb. I didn’t even say anything for like a solid minute.”

“He definitely doesn’t think you’re dumb so don’t even say it!” Robin shoves her hand over your mouth, “Listen–do not say a word I’m going to break it down okay?” Her words slur slightly and you notice she doesn’t have regular punch in her cup. “Steve is like… smitten with you, dude. No fucking jokes, I am being 100% serious. If you even look at him all lovey dovey I bet you he’d cream his pants.” She cringes at her own description and so do you.

You shake your head and push her hand away, “That’s gross and what the fuck? Why am I just hearing about this?”

“What do you mean!? I tell you all the time to just–just fucking talk to him! I wouldn’t tell you that without knowing he’s in love with you or something!”

“Robin… why didn’t you just say it like that!? I thought you were lowkey setting me up!”

She gasped loudly, “I would never! You think that lowly of me?” Robin’s face contorted and you stifled a groan.

“Okay, give me that. You’re drunk. Let’s go find Nancy or… literally anyone.”

—

Once you set Robin up with a babysitter (aka Nancy Wheeler and Johnathan who were both sober), you found a comfy corner to (as Robin put it) mope in. Your earbuds were blocking out most of the shitty music and the blue light from your phone kept you entranced.

You always knew it was going to be a long night when you began binging TikTok before 10pm… but you couldn’t help it, what the hell else is there to do at a party? Getting drunk sucked and there was no way you’d be smoking anything. It was Saturday tomorrow but you didn’t like the idea of having a hangover all weekend.

Something lightly touched your shoulder and you shrugged it off, it was probably someone stumbling around drunkenly. When the weight on your shoulder grew heavier, you yanked an earbud out and turned to chew the person out. Shit. “Hey, Steve.” You sounded so meek. That made you kinda wanna die.

“You seen Robin anywhere? I thought she’d be with you… but nope,” He sounds drunk.

“I left her with Nancy, if you can find Nance, I’m sure she’d be nearby.”

Steve smiled at you and you stared at him for a few seconds too long, “Thanks…” He turned around to go look for her but didn’t move at all, “Actually… could you help me find her? I don’t think I’ll be very… efficent on my own.”

Part of you wanted to turn tail and run but… this was kind of your only chance to talk to Steve alone. Robin was always there to try and push you two together like a child does with their dolls. But all that did was make you all awkward and shy, Steve seemed oblivious… until now. Now all you could think about it what Robin said.

Smitten. That’s such a cute word to use to describe how you feel about someone. And Robin wasn’t one to bullshit (that much). She definitely meant that–maybe. She’s drunk so who knows.

“Last I remember, Nancy was in the backyard by the pool.”

Steve nodded from beside you, casually taking a swig from the bottle in his hand. You–of course–couldn’t help but watch as he did so. Beer was so disgusting to you but he made it look good. That is until he grimaced. “I hate this shit.”

“Then why drink it?” You wondered, pressing to his side to avoid a couple making out.

“Why does anybody drink it? It tastes like piss.”

You laughed, “Finally someone admits it.”

“It’s easier once you’re drunk but I don’t do it often.”

“I haven’t seen you at a party since my freshmen year.” You admitted and Steve shrugged.

He pushed the door open for you two, “I kind of fell out of it my senior year. Some shit happened. Wasn’t fun no more.

The conversation seemed to be taking a turn for the worse–you were way too sober to discuss deep personal anything. “Glad to see you’re back, King Steve.”

The way Steve’s cheeks blossomed with red made your heart skip a beat, “Nobody calls me that anymore,” He looks away, tossing his bottle onto a pool chair. “Actually… I don’t think anybody called me that but me.”

“Really? You made that nickname up?”

Steve scratched at the back of his neck, “Kind of? I dunno, it started out as a joke but then some people started saying it and it just… stuck. Not no more though.”

You looked around for Robin or Nancy but didn’t see either of them, Johnathan was nowhere to be found either, “You graduated–” You began but stopped when you see Steve kick his shoes off, “What are you doing?”

“I’m putting my feet in the pool.”

“It’s probably disgusting.”

Steve points at the cups floating in the water, “Course it is, that’s why I’m only dipping my toes in.” He said and you couldn’t argue with his logic.

You sat beside him, folding your legs under one another. “It’s still hot as fuck.”

“Oh yea, I think I got third degree burns on my shoulders at work.”

“How did you get sunburn at… McDonald’s…?”

Steve laughed a bit too hard at your question–he really was buzzed. “I only work there part time, I’m planning on leaving soon. I do construction. It’s a bitch.”

That made a lot of sense, “I was so confused for a second–awe what about Robin?”

“She’s why I haven’t left that terrible job yet. I hate working food service. The construction hurts physically but I don’t smell like grease when I leave.”

“You stink worse, don’t you?” You joke and he gapes at you, “I’m kidding.”

Then he shakes his head, “I definitely do. It’s better than the fry smell though.”

“How the water?” You asked, watching as he lightly kicked his feet back and forth.

Steve held up his hand in an ‘okay’ motion, “It’s still warm.”

You cringed, “That’s probably just some piss in there.” The face he made was hilarious, he pushed your arm and asked why you’d mention it, “Hey! I can’t help but be fearful of what’s in there,” Steve bumped his shoulder into yours, drawing your attention to his face.

“Did Robin drag you here?” You nodded and he did too, “Me too. Said I had to follow the theme or else she’d K.O. me.”

“She’s so mean to you, it’s hilarious.”

Steve splashed the water, “Eh, she’s nicer most of the time. She’s fucking quick with her insults though.”

You groaned loudly, “Oh my god, I hate that so much. I can never ever win–she talks SO fast!”

“It’s insane! I dunno how she does it!”

A silence fell over you two. He was still kicking his feet in the water and the music could be heard from where you were. “You followed theme way better than I did.” You said quietly, trying to casually compliment him without sounding lovesick.

“What? No, Robin followed the theme. She picked this out.”

“She has good taste–sometimes.”

He chuckled and leaned back on his hands, your eyes following the movement carefully. “I don’t see the point of a themed party but I guess it’s fun.”

You looked up toward the sky, there were stars everywhere. The moon lit the backyard up nicely–there were string lights along the wooden fence as well. 

“You look nice… by the way.”

To say you stiffened up upon hearing the compliment would be an understatement–you turned into a statue. Your head was locked in it’s position of looking up at the night sky. If you looked at him now you might cry because he can see how flustered you are. You face is incredibly hot and your lips are swollen from chewing on them.

It’s stupid. You could easily get Steve Harrington anyday. If only you had the whole confidence shtick to go with your beauty. Maybe it was the fact that you genuinely liked him that made it so hard to take charge. You never really struggled with it before–it was easy with other people to just… ask them on a date or ask them to hang out. But it was harder with Steve.

His whole reputation as a player made you shy away as well. You preferred to enjoy from a distance, but Robin swore he’s changed. And you kind of seen glimpses of it now and then.

“Thanks, you too.”

“You wanna know something?” Your head turns without you thinking–you drop your lip from between your teeth, eyebrows raised in question. “This vest…” He began and your brows furrowed, “It’s made of boyfriend material.”

He’s still drunk. Despite how cheesy and stupid the joke is, you still find yourself laughing at him. Everything is funny, his proud smile and how he’s laughing with you, then his hand is on yours on the ground and you pause.

You feel hot all over, but especially where his hand touches yours. You look down at his hand and then up at him. Steve’s face is way closer than you realized, you two are practically leaning on one another.

“That was a really stupid joke.” You whisper, eyes jumping between his lips and his brown eyes. “Like so so stupid–”

Steve’s kissing you gently, not leaning over into you or anything, just pressing his lips on yours. You turn your head and deepen the kiss, praying it’s not some weird dream. He brings a hand up to rest on your neck and your eyes flutter beneath your eyelids. 

You don’t even think about where Robin is or how cold the concrete is beneath you–you’re just focused on how warm Steve is. And how good of a fucking kisser he is?! When he leans even further–something happens and he’s literally gone. Then a splash of water hits you and you realize that he’s fallen into the pool.

“Oh my god! Are you okay!?”

Steve breaches the surface–and he’s laughing with the biggest smile you’ve ever seen on his face. “I was captain of the swim team, I’m okay!” You can’t help but shake your head at him, “That was a shitty time to be clumsy.” He swims back to the edge, “It’s nice in here…”

You shake your head, “I’m good.” Steve tilts his head to the side, “I don’t wanna swim in that nasty pool.”

“Ew, I forgot about that.”

[murswrites]

Muse of Mine ⎯  Benedict Bridgerton Blurb

Pairings: Benedict Bridgerton x Reader Fandom: Bridgerton MASTERLIST 🌸 JOIN IN MY SBSR EVENT! 🌸 Warnings: N/A SUMMARY: You’re his muse and therefore his favorite thing to paint. Request from anon: Hey! May I request something with Benedict Bridgerton and the humor prompts #3 and #5? ❤️ Love your work

Humor #3: “OH, you’re jealous!”

Humor #5: “Would you just hold still?”

A/N Thank you for this request! I love the options given!!! <3

“You know, I wish you’d tell me next time you would be having suitors at your house before I barge in looking a fool.” Benedict mumbled from behind the canvas.

There was something in his tone that made you smirk, you sat across from him, sitting on the ottoman, now wearing a smile. “You sound a bit jealous, Benedict.”

His head popped up above the canvas, he glared at you. “Not jealous, annoyed, in fact.”

“Annoyed that you looked a fool or that my mama has forced me to see suitors?”

Benedict didn’t answer then which prompted you to laugh, “Would you just--sit still!?” He begged, sounding genuinely desperate.

You stifled your laughter as best as you could, “It’s okay to be jealous.”

The sigh he let out was more hilarious than the redness covering his ears. You covered your mouth as a giggle escaped. Benedict’s anger came far and few between but it was entertaining nonetheless.

“I am not--” He set the brush down and moved where he could see you, hands on his hips all... angry-like. Your laughter only grew. “It’s not funny,” He said.

“Oh! Oh but it is! Benedict Bridgerton, jealous that I have suitors lining the street!”

His face fell, “What?”

A squeak fell from your lips, “OH! So you’re jealous!?” Benedict glared at you threateningly as you continued to laugh (in his face, might I add).

[murswrites]

Motor Mouth ⎯ Benedict Bridgerton Drabble

Pairings: Benedict Bridgerton x Reader Fandom: Bridgerton MASTERLIST 🌸 JOIN IN MY SBSR EVENT! 🌸 (closed) Word Count: ~675 Warnings: Cursing?  SUMMARY: Sometimes Benedict just gets talking and can’t stop Request from anon: Hii Rowan. 💚 Ik this may be a little weird for Benedict, but can you do prompts .33 and .48 of the random list for your spring break event with him? Been loving it so far

Random #33: “Are you jealous?”

Random #48: “You’re mine, do you understand? You belong to me.”

A/N OOO!!! This is definitely a different vibe but I love embarrassing Benedict <3 It’s among my favourite pastimes!

Benedict wasn’t the best with his words and that would frequently shine through in his moments of weakness. (which came quite often but he would never admit that) It wasn’t something he could control but his mouth would just get moving and soon enough--he couldn’t stop the words from tumbling out of it. Despite his name of Bridgerton; he was quite daft at times.

You never missed the opportunity to point such things out. How he’d say things out of hand or mumble under his breath like a child. It was infuriating for him being called out so often especially by the object of his desires. But best friends were always meant to be just friends... that is until he says something entirely opposite such a sentiment.

---

He was a bit drunk but tried passing it off as nothing besides the norm. God, he was so so obvious. The way he sulked in the corner as you spoke to one of your associates was so very entertaining that you couldn’t help but act (as he would call it) so scandalous. 

Benedict’s eyebrows shot up when he noticed how close you stood to them, he was never the jealous type but the drink in his hand seemed to rouse something within him. You were aware of how he set the drink down with a peculiar expression and walked off with an obvious face of annoyance.

It made you snicker, seeing how worked up he was over something as simple as you setting your hand on your friend’s arm. “I ought to see whatever is the matter with dear Benedict--make sure he doesn’t walk into the wall again.” Oh, that was a funny story.

“Benny?” You called, turning the corner and nearly running into the very man you were calling out to. “Wow, you practically appeared out of thin air!”

He glared at you--still drunk, you decided. “What’s the cause of such a sour expression, Benny?” The innocent act fell flat on him as he narrowed his eyes. You fought the impulse to roll your eyes in response. “Benedict...” You reached for him, “Are you... jealous?”

“What! Jealous? PfFT-- Please! You think too highly of yourself!” You gaped at him. “I don’t mean to say you are not worth such appreciation but in regards to your affect on me? Plea--”

“You’re jealous.” This wasn’t a question.

Benedict coughed into the back of his hand and looked at anything but you. “No.” He lied. “Not jealous, a bit irritated but that’s nothing to do with you.”

“You’re lying.”

The bright red blush spreading all over his face and neck gave him away so easily. “Is it hot in here? I’m suddenly in need of some fresh air!”

“I’ll go with you.”

He chuckled awkwardly and leaned onto the wall only to misjudge how close he stood and knock his forehead into it. “Christ--” He cursed and noticed how you kept staring at him so intensely. “What’s wrong?” Benedict scratched at his cheek with a look of confusion.

You lost and laughed in his face, “You’re jealous because I touched their arm?That’s the--the most hilarious thing ever!” You held your stomach as the laughter ricocheted through your body. “Oh my goodness!”

“Alright that’s--” Benedict hauls you into a standing position, “--that’s quite enough.” You suddenly saw the sobriety in his eyes and felt at ease knowing he was returning to normal. Maybe then he’d grow a brain-cell or two. “You’re mine, do you understand? You belong to me.”

Despite how serious he seemed to be, the deep laugh that escaped you was so painfully embarrassing for Benedict that he all but pushed you away. “I’m sorry? I belong to you, Bridgerton? That’s a laugh alright!”

“I don’t know why I said that!” He exclaimed.

“Okay, Anthony!” You shouted back, still recovering from the hilarity of it all.

Benedict was as red as the roses painted onto the wall, he blended in quite well and that realization only made you fall into another fit of laughter.

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