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lovedazai · 9 days

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WORST BEHAVIOR . . . dazai gets turned on watching you fight and just can’t help himself.

ft. pm!dazai + f!reader, pm!reader, possessive behavior, physical fighting, dazai is a little pervy, one use of ‘good girl’, semi-public & unprotected sex, choking (m!receiving), 2.5k w.c…mdni !!

p.s.! ⊹ ࣪ ˖ i know i’ve been promising this one for a while :< thank you for being patient with me !!

dazai already knows you indulge him; you let him get away with more than anyone else ever would. even outside of work, when he’s stripped of the authority that comes from being the youngest port mafia executive, the unspoken next in line for the throne of yokohama’s underworld, you always give into his whines of five more minutes or just one more kiss, i swear.

if you asked him, it was your own fault that he liked you so much; you were addicting. if the port mafia was a black hole where all light escaped, you were a twinkling star, falling from the sky right into dazai’s blood-soaked hands, and he loves you more than he ever thought he could. you weren’t quite an executive yet, but you were good at what you didー fighting.

there were only a few things in his meaningless life that made him less than bored: drinking with odasaku after work, harassing chuuya to tears, and watching you train, or better yet, getting to see you on a mission. his favorite part was that you always looked so, so hot while you were doing it.

he tries to act surprised when you’re both sent to take care of some low-level group, threatening to leak information that they definitely didn’t have. he didn’t really have to come with you on this assignment, it was below his level as an executive, after all, but he went through all of the trouble of leaking the address to one of the mafia’s “hideouts”, ensuring they’d show up at the dingy warehouse. it looms before the two of you, weathered from the salty air of the port, glass windows splintered and broken.

his coat flutters behind him with every giddy step, happily following after you and your little black skirt; maybe if he was lucky enough, he’d get a peek beneath it.

“are you sure you don’t have somewhere else to be right now?” you turn to look over your shoulder, reaching your hand out for him and intertwining your fingers loosely.

“there’s nowhere else i’d rather be.” he swings your arms between the two of you loosely. you only drop his hand to pull the rusty door open, greeted by three men, all expectantly waiting for you.

“my, my,” he whispers against the curve of your ear. “looks like we’ve been caught.”

“what do we have here? a little girl…” one of the men grins, looking at you in a way that made dazai want to kill him himself. the way his eyes drag up your body stirs an instinct to pull you behind him. “…and her guard dog?”

of course, he’d never put you in any real danger. this group was pathetic, and even at three to one, they didn’t stand a chance against you. dazai can predict all of their moves flawlessly anyway, and you have a implicit understanding that he never gives you more than he knows you can handle. his gun remains heavy against his side, always within his reachー just in case.

his fingers instinctively twitch towards the grip as one of the men reaches to grab you, but you don’t let him, seizing him by the forearm, leg sweeping him from behind and tossing him onto the ground. he falls to the concrete with a groan, looking up at you with a dazed scowl. the heel of your foot connects with his jaw before he can make another move, and he falls still against the ground.

one of the other men comes from the side, but you’re still too quick, catching him out of the corner of your eye and dodging with ease. you hit him hard enough for him to stumble, and you take the opportunity to grab him by the throat, knocking him backward. dazai’s eyes widen, the hair rising against the bandages wrapped around his arms and neck; he was almost jealous. the man chokes as you slam his back against the wall hard enough for his eyes to roll back and his body to crumple to the ground.

there’s only one man left, and your lip splits when his fist connects with your face. dazai’s eyes narrow, and the man’s glaze over in frustration as you recover quick enough to dodge his next hit, crouching low. you curl your leg around his waist from behind, pulling him down to the ground by the back of his shirt until he’s pinned beneath you.

you’re quick to get up, and when you’re far enough away for dazai’s comfort, he aims his gun and fires once, twice, then again before the man falls still.

the only thing heavier than dazai’s presence is his gaze, and you feel it prickle against your skin like the sharp edge of a knife from where he’s still standing in the doorway. when you meet his eyes, they’re red and glowing, and locked onto you.

he walks towards you, only the heavy sound of his shoes against the cement and your quiet breaths filling the warehouse. you swipe your thumb across your lip, breaking his gaze to look at the blood smeared into the crevices of your fingertip before dazai grabs your chin, tilting it upward. his tongue is warm as it traces along the cut before he presses it past your lips. your noise of surprise is muffled as he kisses you, the taste of your own blood permeating your mouth.

he walks you backward until the back of your heels hit the edge of the cold, concrete wall. his mouth never leaves yours, tracing the roof of your mouth and the edge of your teeth as if he doesn’t already have every part of you committed to memory. his cock strains against the fabric of his trousers, poking against your thigh as he presses himself flush against you.

“dazai,” you try to warn, but it isn’t very convincing, breathed out like a hymn; god, his name has never sounded so sweet. he sings your name back with a smile, groping you through your shirt with one hand as the other unbuckles his belt. he slides his fingers down your stomach until he pulls your shirt out from where it’s tucked into your waistband, flipping the hem of your skirt upward to expose those cute little panties. “we’re still…we’re here. in a dirty warehouse.”

“what’s wrong? there’s no one else around. you made sure of that, didn’t you?” he cups your chin between his fingers again and turns your head towards the enemies, bloodied and unconscious, chests heaving shallowly. he presses a kiss to your jaw, trailing up until his lips rest against the curve of your ear. “did you already forget? when their bloodstains haven’t even set into your clothes yet? i didn’t know you could be so cold.”

he unbuttons your shirt with the flick of his thumb, just enough to expose the curve of your tits, sitting oh so prettily in your bra. he skims his fingers against your panties, stroking the soft fabric where your most sensitive spot is covered. he pulls them aside, giggling against your ear when you’re already wet as he slips his middle and pointer fingers inside of you. your frown falters as he curls them with expert precision, eyelids fluttering in bliss as something achingly sweet ignites in your stomach.

“you know what i was thinking while i was watching you?” he drops his voice low, watching the way you sink your teeth into your bottom lip when he finds your clit, grinding the heel of his palm against it in pressured circles. “‘i wonder how it’d feel for her to choke me like that…to wrap these pretty little fingers around my neck and squeeze’.”

the lingering adrenaline of a fight and dazai’s body pressed so close to yours makes you feel dizzy. you part your lips to reply, but his hand is back on your jaw before you can respond, brushing his mouth over yours teasingly.

“do you have any idea what you do to me?” the pad of his thumb is cold against your warm cheek. he strokes himself with the slick collected on his fingers, pressing into you with the tip of his cock. his bangs fall over his eyes as he hangs his head and watches you stretch around the shape of him, disappearing inside your warm cunt inch by inch.

your nails dig into his arms, feeling his lithe muscles tense through the expensive fabric of his coat. he pries your hands off, fingers wrapping around your wrists as he pins them against the wall, holding them in place with one hand. his grin bites against your neck as you throw your head back and arch your hips instinctively.

“my good girl,” he breathes, sucking the skin beneath your ear between his teeth, soothing it with a kiss when you whine. “my sweet, perfect girl.”

“mhm,” you exhale, your own breath getting caught in your throat. your back is pressed against the cool cement behind you, with dazai’s firm chest flush against your front. the broken window above you pools sunlight over your half-dressed bodies. “yours.”

you feel his uneven breathing against your skin as he presses his lips against your jaw. his cock rubs against you deliciously, velvet walls fluttering and clinging to him each time he pulls his hips back. it’s so easy to melt into him like this, with the security of his hands against your skin, his soft hair tickling your neck, and his cock filling you perfectly, like you were made for him to take.

he lifts your leg, fingers squeezing the plush of your thigh and supporting your weight. he thrusts inside you at a new angle, hitting the slightest bit deeper, but it’s just enough to make you gasp as your belly flutters and your knees nearly buckle beneath his palm as he holds you up. your hands clench around nothing, nails digging into your palms in a desperate need to hold onto something.

“the way you threw that man and pinned him to the ground,” he whispers. “would you do that to me?”

“no,” you’re breathless, words lost on you as your mind clouds over with pleasure. his hips grind against yours, the head of his cock kissing the deepest part of you as your eyes roll backward. “i don’tー i’d never hurt you.”

“but i’d let you,” he rasps. “you could do whatever you want to me.”

he lets go of your wrists, and you bend your leg around his waist, trying to press him even deeper. you balance on your tip toes as he thrusts into you harshly, curling your arms around his shoulders, as if his cock nestled inside you wasn’t close enough; it was never enough when it came to dazai.

“fuck,” your voice is breathy and broken, and it echoes throughout the gutted warehouse. the heat building in your stomach is already overwhelming, rushing to your head until you feel drunk on it. your muscles are taut, toes curled as you feel him throb inside you, his hips stuttering. “osamu.”

his grip on you tightens, and he whines; it’s just barely audible, and you would’ve missed it if he wasn’t right next to your ear. your eyes are hazy, half open as you look at him through your lashes as he watches the way your tits bounce against the fabric of your bra in time with his movements.

your hand trembles as you lift it, closing your fingers loosely around his neck and pulling his gaze back to yours. you can’t help but grin, lips curving up into a drunken smile as you watch his cheeks flush a pretty pink and his eyebrows furrow in pleasure. dazai rarely expresses his emotions so openly, and you commit it to memory as best you can through the fuzzy feelings of bliss blurring the edges of your mind. he lets out the prettiest noise, something between a moan and a cry vibrating against your palm, his cock throbbing inside you as you squeeze his bandaged neck.

his thrusts grow sporadic, breathy moans growing in volume. his nails dig into your hips, and you rub your clit desperately, quivering in his grip as you feel him stall and cum, warm and deep inside you.

everything fades to static as the sweetness in your belly burns brighter and brighter until it finally explodes into white, hot, sparkling pieces that pierce your vision. dazai pants and hangs his head, but his eyes snap to yours as you mumble something close to “cummingー”, always so desperate to take in the pretty way you fall apart for him, because of him.

he whimpers when you draw your hand from his throat to his face, brushing his bangs away from his eyes. you cup his cheek, smoothing your thumb against the tape holding his small patch of gauze in place as you breathe in one another.

your legs ache, tensed muscles finally relaxing as you lower your foot back to the ground unsteadily. your head falls against the wall with a final sigh, chest heaving. dazai is beaming at you when you peek your eyes open after a few moments, looking irritatingly adorable with his messy hair and crooked tie.

“i can’t believe we did that here,” you glance towards the pieces of shattered glass that litter the ground.

“you loved it,” he smiles, brushing the tip of his nose against yours. “you love me〜”

he pulls out of you carefully, snapping your underwear back into place. you grip his tie, wrapping it around your hand and pulling him in to press your mouth to his before straightening it and sliding the knot back into place.

he pouts as he watches you start to button your shirt back up, squeezing your waist softly.

“can’t you leave some open?”

your glare is weak, and he meets it with a smile. he slides his coat off his shoulders, draping it over your own to hide your wrinkled clothes.

“i’ll call a car to get us,” he hums, slipping his hand into your own as he guides you outside the warehouse. “i’ll even give you the rest of the day off for a good performance!”

you rest your head on his shoulder, sleepy and sated. the breeze is cool on your warm skin, carrying the scent of the sea as it gently brushes through your hair.

“you know,” he starts, typing away at his phone, still as happy as ever. “you still owe me lunch from losing that bet last week.”

he has another tease on the tip of his tongue, but he falters when he sees the red splotch of blood staining your pouted lips. he slips his hand beneath your chin and tilts your face towards him. he frowns at the cut, visible eye narrowing as he brushes his thumb against the corner of your mouth.

you wrap your hand around his wrist loosely, pulling it back to press your lips to his palmー i’m okay. he sees one of the mafia’s black cars pulling in from the corner of his eye, and presses a lingering kiss to your foreheadー i know. he pulls the lapels of his jacket tighter around your shoulders before he slips his hand back into yours, and when he walks you to the car, his coat flutters behind you.

BSD MASTERLIST

#💌 . . . with love mai ⊹ ࣪ ˖#dazai x reader #dazai x you #bsd x you #bsd x reader #dazai smut #bsd smut #dazai imagines #bsd imagines #dazai osamu x you #dazai osamu x reader #bungou stray dogs x reader #ʚ shhh ɞ

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roosterforme · 1 month

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Covering the Classics Part 3 | Bob Floyd x OC

Summary: When Anna finally agrees to meet her new friends at the bar, she learns pretty quickly that the hot guy from the bookstore is actually Bob Floyd. But the fact that she ran and hid from him, thinking she'd never have to see him again, leaves her feeling mortified, and Bob is left to draw his own conclusions.

Warnings: Fluff, angst, adult language, eventually 18+

Length: 3700 words

Pairing: Robert "Bob" Floyd x Female OC (this story is part of the Beer Boy/Sugar and Jake/Jessica universe)

Covering the Classics masterlist. Check my masterlist for more! Thank you to @mak-32 for the beautiful banner!

Anna took a deep breath as she swiped on some mascara and found her tube of lipgloss. She finally caved and agreed to go to the Navy bar that her friends couldn't stop talking about at lunch every day. She only had about five dollars in her wallet to buy a drink since she sold her car for rent money. She couldn't believe was going to take an Uber all the way to Coronado just to make an absolute fool of herself in front of this Bob character. And worst of all, she was still thinking about the hot guy with glasses from the bookstore.

"It's okay," she told her reflection in the bathroom mirror. "At least you're absolutely killing it at work. And you're having a good hair day." She dabbed at her lips, but skipped the concealer. Kevin used to love it when she covered up her freckles which made her never want to do it ever again. Every time she thought about him, her heart skipped a beat, but not in the fun way.

She counted to five and said, "Kevin isn't here." Then she put her makeup away and made sure her computer was plugged in so she could mess around online when she inevitably returned to her miniscule apartment within the next hour and a half. "Let's get this show on the road," she muttered.

The ride to the bar was uneventful, as she was sure the rest of her evening would be as well. Bob sounded like an absolute dream when Advanced Calculus and Advanced Physics talked about him. Anna couldn't imagine him being outright rude to her after the two of them said he was sweet and had perfect manners, but she could already tell what his reaction would be: a kind but forced laugh, and maybe a halfhearted smile. And then Anna would probably get to watch him pick up a different girl instead if she didn't leave right away with her proverbial tail between her legs.

Maybe she should have stayed home.

"Here we are," the driver said as he pulled into a beachside parking lot as the sun started setting over the ocean. "The Hard Deck."

"That was quick," she murmured, wishing she could stay in the solitude of this backseat a bit longer as she climbed out. "Thanks."

The fact that every day in San Diego was warm and beautiful was going to take some getting used to. The weather almost never wavered here unlike back at home. Anna opened the weather app on her phone and scrolled to her saved location in New Jersey, and sure enough, it was raining there. She nibbled on her lip and checked her work email, dragging the toe of her beat up sneaker on the gavel parking lot.

She was just stalling now, wondering if her friends would even notice if she didn't show up. They just met her two weeks ago; they probably didn't even really like her that much. Her thumb hovered over her rideshare app as she thought about the two other women just going about their business like normal if she never went back to the weird tree at lunchtime. She was inconsequential to their day.

Anna pressed her lips together and tapped the app. There was a car two minutes away, but the guilt of having wasted eighteen dollars to come here in the first place was eating away at her mind. "Damn it," she whispered as she closed out of the app and shoved her phone into the pocket of her snug jeans. She started walking up to the sand covered wood planks that led to the entrance of the bar, and she didn't stop until she was inside.

Slow Ride was blaring from the sound system, and the place was pretty packed. It took a few seconds for her eyes to adjust so she could get the lay of the land, and when she did, she realized she was surrounded by mostly men. "Great," she mumbled, earning a few looks, probably because she had barely taken a step beyond the entryway before freezing up.

But as Anna made her way closer to the bar, a big guy in a khaki uniform winked at her and called out, "Hey, Red!"

She felt her cheeks warm up which was certainly not going to help with that nickname. "Oh no." Deftly, she squeezed her way through the many bodies until she had one hand resting on the bar. Why were all these men so attractive? And why were they looking at her?

When a different guy next to her turned and saw her, he stuck out his hand and said, "Hey, I'm Jackson."

"Anna," she replied, slipping her smaller hand into his very briefly before trying to take a step back. But she just ended up bumping into someone else.

"You gotta let me buy you a drink," Jackson told her with a grin. "Seriously. You're already the best part of my night."

Anna swallowed as she looked around for her friends, but she didn't see either of them. "Um... not yet. I'm not a big drinker."

Jackson laughed merrily. "Aww, honey. You came to the wrong place. Hey, Penny!" Anna watched the bartender turn around with her hands full of two martini glasses. "Can you get this one anything she wants on my tab?"

Penny laughed, and said, "You'll have to get in line, Jackson. You're number four on her roster already."

"Damn it!" Jackson complained with a laugh.

Anna's eyes went wide as Penny delivered the two drinks and then came back and leaned on the bar right in front of her. "By the looks of things, you won't have to pay for a single drink all night. So what'll it be?"

Penny had friendly looking eyes that made Anna feel a little more comfortable. "A ginger ale?"

"Coming right up," Penny replied, reaching for a pint glass and the soda dispenser gun without looking away. "I've never seen you in here before, so I feel like it's only fair to warn you that these guys can get a little relentless."

That was literally the last thing Anna wanted to hear right now. Even Jackson hadn't moved an inch away from her, and her hands were starting to sweat as the ginger ale came gliding across the bar. When she wrapped her hand around the cold glass, she told Penny, "I'm actually supposed to meet some friends here. But I don't see them?"

She smiled and said, "Give me a name."

Anna looked down into the bubbles of her drink and muttered, "Jessica Reed?"

The response was immediate but kind. "By the pool table. Where she always is. Oh, and do not challenge her to a game, because she will kick your ass."

Anna laughed as she picked up her drink. "Thank you so much. And um... could you thank whomever paid for my ginger ale?"

Penny nodded as Anna started to head for the pool table. Jackson pouted at her, and the big guy in the uniform called out, "Come back, Red!" She ignored both of them as she fought her way through the crowd, desperately trying not to spill her drink on anyone. There were a lot more khaki uniforms and even some one piece jumpsuit type things that had patches sewn onto them. She read a few of the patches as she got closer to the pool table. Harvard. Omaha. Halo. Those were some weird names.

"There she is. Anna!"

She turned her head when she heard her name, and she saw Jessica waving one hand in the air as she juggled a beer and a pool cue in the other. Jessica actually looked happy to see her as she stood there, all wrapped up in the arms of a guy that Anna couldn't fully see yet. And then her other friend was waving both hands in the air, too, so she waved back. "Hi."

Both women squealed, "Hi, Anna!" in unison, and it was honestly one of the nicest sounds Anna had heard in recent memory. She already felt better about being here now, and that's when she caught sight of who she assumed was Jake. And she was momentarily struck dumb.

The blonde man kissed the side of Jessica's neck and whispered something before releasing her, and then his green eyes met Anna's as he smiled. She decided immediately that he looked like a GQ model, and that was actually pretty fitting for what would pair well with Jessica.

"Hey," Jessica said, reaching for her hand and pulling her closer. "This is my boyfriend, Jake." She gestured over her shoulder to the GQ model who reached his hand out.

"Hi, Anna," he said with a southern drawl. "I've heard a lot about you."

"Oh. Same," she replied, biting her tongue before she told him she'd never heard of a man who was sweet enough to pack his girlfriend fancy sandwiches and also had the nerve to look like he belonged on a magazine cover.

"And that's Bradley," Jessica said mildly.

"My god," she whispered to herself. Her other friend was wrapped up in a pair of thick arms that belonged to a man with a mustache and alluring scars that ran along his left cheek and down the side of his neck into his floral shirt collar. He was every bit as good looking as Jake, but he had dark hair and eyes and looked decidedly a little bit rougher around the edges.

She blushed as she remembered the comment about how he and his wife liked to use math as foreplay in the bedroom. Right now, he kept pulling his wife closer for another hug and kiss while she playfully tried to escape his grasp, and Anna had to look away, because a flash of jealousy hit her like a brick.

"Hey, Anna," came Bradley's gravelly voice as he finally released his wife, and she shook his hand as well. "Sugar told me you're from New Jersey."

Sugar? Anna was definitely beat red in the face now. "That's right."

He laughed and reached out again for a fist bump. "Way better than all these west coast losers," he said over his shoulder, earning a middle finger from another seriously good looking guy.

"Stop trying to make her think you're cool, Beer Boy," his wife told him with an eye roll before he turned away to talk to the other guy.

The problem was, Anna already thought they were all devastatingly cool, and now she was standing here like an awkward fifth wheel. "Do you want a beer?" Jessica asked with a smile. "They have Sam Adams."

Anna didn't want to tell her about the scant five dollars in her pocket, and she also didn't want to have to thank one of the random guys who told Penny they wanted to buy her a drink, so she just shook her head.

Then her other friend said, "Well Bob is up at the bar right now. You just missed him, actually." She was smirking as she added, "He's probably getting himself a ginger ale, but if you want a beer or something else, he'd be happy to get it for you."

She made like she was about to call out his name when Jessica said, "Bob also likes ginger ale. And the bookstore in North Park."

Anna met her eyes before turning and craning her neck. "He does?" she asked softly, thinking about those pretty eyes and wire rimmed glasses and the smell of tea leaves. And then she saw him. He was here! "Oh," she gasped. He was Bob?

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"Thanks, Penny," Bob said as he accepted his drink. Two of the guys at the bar were talking about a cute redhead, and all he could think about was the girl from the bookshop who decided after probably four minutes and seventeen seconds that she didn't want to talk to him anymore. He wanted to look around for this mysterious, new redhead, because if he was being honest, that was something he really thought was pretty, but what was the point? She was probably already over trying to talk to Bradley or Jake or Mickey.

Yesterday, Bradley told him to start wearing his uniform to the bar if he wanted more girls to talk to him, but Bob wasn't that desperate. He still had this fantasy where he met the girl of his dreams kind of organically. But maybe wearing a Dungeons & Dragons shirt wasn't the best thing he could have paired with his jeans tonight. Jake took one look at it thirty minutes ago and told him to go home and change into something else.

"Your girlfriend likes it," Bob had told him with a smirk, and sure enough a minute later Jessica was making a fuss over it.

But now he was making his way back to the pool table where the two couples were most likely on the verge of being indecent. Seriously, if Bob had to watch Bradshaw's hands all over his wife's rear end for one more minute, he was going to scream.

Then he saw her, and he nearly dropped his glass of ginger ale on the floor. It was the girl from the North Park bookstore. Red hair, brown eyes, freckles, kissable lips. She was looking back at him in disbelief.

Oh my god. He was hallucinating. He must be. Jessica was talking to the redhead who wasn't paying an ounce of attention to her, because she was focused on Bob. Her lips curled into a smile, and he thought he'd better make sure. When he glanced to his left and then his right, he didn't see anyone else who could be on the receiving end of that smile besides him.

"Bob!" called Bradshaw's wife. "Come meet Anna!"

Anna. That was the name of their new friend from the university. They talked about her all the time even though they just met her. They told him he would like her. But this was the girl who wanted that horrible Vonnegut book last weekend. This was the girl Mickey thought he imagined.

Apparently he hadn't stopped walking, because now he was right in front of the three women, and he had three pairs of wide eyes trained on his face. "I remember you," he said softly. "From the classics section." Her lips parted softly, and her pupils went wide as Bob asked, "Are you Anna?"

She nodded, her cheeks tinged with pink beneath her freckles. He almost groaned, because she was so much cuter in person than what his memory supplied. Nothing about her was flashy, which he almost preferred, but there was no way she wasn't the hot girl that those guys at the bar were talking about.

"I am," she replied. "And you're Bob?"

He glanced at the other two women, wondering what exactly they told her about him. They looked like they were both holding their breath as he held out his hand and said, "I'm Bob Floyd. It's nice to meet you. Again."

"I'm Anna Webber." She bit her lip, a look of embarrassment overtaking her features as she shook his hand gently. Then he remembered that she ditched him last weekend, leaving nothing but the book he'd already devoured in her place like some sort of parting gift. He released her hand abruptly and cleared his throat.

Now she looked a little hurt, but he didn't know what to say. He ran his fingers through his hair, his nerves getting worse by the second as the other two women practically vibrated with excitement on either side of Anna. "Uh, thanks for that book recommendation. I loved it," he said, barely meeting Anna's pretty eyes.

She gasped and asked, "You read it? You actually read it?"

Bob was trying to formulate another coherent response, but the urge to walk out of the bar was very strong. He was already embarrassed right now, and then he heard Mickey's voice as his friend walked over. "Holy shit, she does have red hair and brown eyes."

Mickey seemed to capture Anna's attention for the time being which really grated on Bob's nerves. Nat would never do this to him, and he couldn't wait until she got home from being deployed. Then Bradshaw's wife was in his personal space along with Jessica. "So she was the girl? From the store in North Park?" she whispered, squeezing his hand.

"The one you had instant chemistry with?" Jessica added hopefully.

Bob swallowed hard. "Yeah," he murmured. "It was Anna. But the two of you need to knock it off now, because it's probably not going to happen. There's just something about me that doesn't translate well. She kind of ditched me at the bookstore."

"What do you mean?" Jessica practically shrieked, and Bob had to hush her. "You're perfect for each other!"

He closed his eyes and shook his head, letting his awkwardness wash over him. "I don't know, Jess."

When he opened his eyes again, Anna was looking at him while she talked to Mickey, and Bob knew it would take even longer to get over the mystery woman now.

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

Anna couldn't believe Bob was the mystery man from the bookstore. Their chance meeting read like a piece of poetry that had no business being in her life, but the fact that she was meeting him for the second time felt something like fate. And she didn't like it. Not one bit.

He was so handsome, just like Jake and Bradley. Now Anna was wondering what they fed these men in the Navy, because Mickey was very good looking as well. But the more she spoke to him, the more irritated Bob seemed. And she didn't like how his brow was pinching above his glasses. Not compared to the way he'd looked at her in the bookstore.

Her mind was a mess right now. And then she remembered that she actually ran and hid from Bob last time she saw him. She started to panic and look around, silently coming up with an escape route, but it was too late.

"Let's play pool?" Jessica asked a bit cautiously, and that was when Anna fully pieced it all together. Her new friends from work were going to think she wasn't attracted to Bob, but that couldn't have been further from the truth right now. Frankly she didn't know what she should do, so she followed everyone over to the pool table.

Well, everyone except for Bob. He remained at the bar alone, and she couldn't really blame him for not wanting to talk to her after the stunt she pulled in the bookstore. But she was only trying to protect herself. Maybe she could explain that to him.

She was trying to decide if she would have hid from the most attractive man who had given her the time of day in years if she knew it was actually Bob. That's when she set down her empty glass of ginger ale because she was being handed a pool cue and told to team up with Bradley. She went through the motions, playing as well as she could while she chatted with everyone, but she found herself hoping to catch Bob's pretty eyes looking at her. Once she lost and handed the cue to Jessica, she saw him heading her way, and he had a glass of ginger ale in each hand.

"Anna," he said softly in that voice that left her shivering. She took the drink he offered her and tried to act normal, but she was still so startled by what he said earlier.

"Did you really read A Room with a View?" she asked quickly before she lost the nerve.

Bob smiled softly and met her eyes briefly before glancing at the floor. "Every word of it."

She bit her lip to keep from screaming. Kevin never once read any of the novels she suggested for him, preferring modern horror monstrosities instead. And then he went and actually turned her life into a horrific monstrosity which she should have probably seen coming. But right here in front of her was Bob who she had actually already met and formed a pitiful crush on, and she couldn't bring herself to say more than, "I'm happy you read it."

He was blushing now as he sipped his own ginger ale before saying, "Yeah, it was great. I wouldn't mind some more of your book recommendations, honestly. As long as you don't try to get me to read that Vonnegut."

"Cat's Cradle," she said with a laugh that had his gaze snapping back up to hers. His eyes were hopeful as she smiled at him, but she rubbed her hand along her forehead and said, "I'm sorry I... vanished. The other day."

"What happened? I told Mickey I needed a minute, and you were just gone."

She wanted to be honest with him, but she didn't know how to explain herself. And now she was starting to feel like she and Bob were in a fishbowl; so many pairs of eyes were looking their way with next to no subtlety. She cleared her throat and decided to avoid his question. "Have you read any Jane Austen?"

He looked a bit disappointed by her response, but he said, "I have not."

"I think you'd enjoy Persuasion. Or Northanger Abbey. What about Virginia Woolf?"

Bob shook his head. "I feel like I'm about to embarrass myself again like I did last weekend at the bookstore, but no, I haven't read either."

Anna practically moaned at his bashful expression and pink cheeks. He smelled so good, it was unbelievable. Why did she feel so drawn to him? Why couldn't she stop herself from taking a step closer when he muttered, "As soon as you said you knew what Cat's Cradle was about, I figured I was in way over my head. The classics kind of elude me. I'm actually more of a poetry buff."

"Poetry?" she gasped, heart pounding at an overwhelming rate as he swirled his glass of ginger ale around with nonchalance. As if he hadn't just said the sexiest thing any man had ever told her.

"Are the two of you just going to stand here and play footsie all night?"

Anna looked up to see Jake with a smirk on his face right in front of her. She didn't even notice anyone else in her vicinity before he spoke. Bob was shaking his head and already taking a step away from her when she asked, "Do you want me to text you some more recommendations?"

Bob froze and turned to look at her with a soft smile. "That'd be great." When she handed him her unlocked phone, he quickly added his number before handing it back to her. His calloused fingers felt even more exhilarating this time, which was very bad, because she'd already been thinking about the way he accidentally touched her at the bookstore on repeat.

"I'll send you some of my ideas," she muttered, pocketing her phone again before allowing Jake to pull her away toward the pool table again. She tried her best not to let her attention return to Bob over and over again, but she mostly failed. Sure enough, after a while, she saw another woman break the perimeter of the pool table and make a beeline toward Bradley before eventually turning toward Bob.

She was really pretty with shiny brown hair, and it made Anna uncomfortable when she touched Bob's arm. It wasn't fair. He was so lovely and soft spoken and handsome. He was even wearing a shirt Kevin would have never been caught dead in, but it made Anna smile. In another version of her life, she would have gone for it tonight. Instead she got to watch the brunette woman hand him her phone just like she'd done a few minutes prior.

"It's pretty late," she said suddenly even though she had no idea what time it actually was. "I'm going to head out."

Advanced Calculus and Advanced Physics both looked a little alarmed. "Already?"

"Yeah," she said, setting down her ginger ale and trying to skirt past Bob and the unknown woman. She gave both of her friends a quick hug and said, "I have a lot to prepare for my upcoming classes this weekend."

"Let me walk you to your car," Bob replied immediately, slipping away from the brunette to be closer to Anna. "Maybe you can give me the titles of the Jane Austen books again?" His cheeks were flushed, and the other woman looked annoyed now which did make Anna smile.

"Persuasion and Northanger Abbey," she repeated for him as she started to walk past the bar sending a wave in the direction of the pool table. Bob was following her now as she added, "And I don't have a car, so there's nothing to walk me to."

"Persuasion and Northanger Abbey," he repeated softly to himself. "Will you let me drive you home then?" he asked hopefully. "All I had to drink was ginger ale."

Anna let herself look up at him before she shook her head. "I'll get an Uber, but thanks for offering. It was nice to meet you. Again."

"It sure was," he agreed as he continued to follow her all the way to the door.

With one last glance over her shoulder, she noticed the dark haired woman on her tiptoes looking around for Bob. "Your brunette friend is looking for you," Anna said softly before slipping outside into the cool night air and opening the rideshare app on her phone. Bob didn't follow her any further, and she rode home with disappointment and sadness thrumming through her body. She was out of cheap wine, but at least she had her favorite poetry website to keep her company.

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

Bob groaned as he nudged his glasses up his nose and pressed his fingertips to his eyes until he was seeing stars. "But I like redheads," he moaned to himself. He could not believe it. He really just couldn't get over the fact that tonight of all nights some random woman started to chat him up. Anna could barely look at him to begin with, but now he'd be damn lucky if she actually texted him the book recommendations at all.

His dream girl was Anna. Anna was the perfect woman he met at the bookstore. Anna was the one he'd been thinking about nonstop, but now he had confirmation that she wasn't into him. That's why she vanished last weekend. That's why she gave him the cold shoulder tonight when he was practically tripping over himself at the sight of her. She was perfect. He was just hopeless. He could keep thinking about her, but what was the point? Now that he knew she worked with his friends, he had to stop this crush in its tracks and try to save face.

"There you are, Robby." A hand snaked around his side to his abs, and he almost jumped a foot in the air. He hated being called that, and he hated that Anna saw this woman talking to him.

"Hi," he said cautiously, taking a step away from her.

"Is the redhead your girlfriend?" she asked, clearly annoyed now.

Bob sighed and said, "I wish."

She rolled her eyes and vanished back into the crowd, leaving him alone again. He never imagined he'd have such an eventful night involving the fairer sex. "Damn it," he whispered as he made his way back toward the pool table to his friends.

"There he is!" Bradley called out with his hands cupped around his mouth. "Big ol' Bob! Did you just give your phone number to not one but two women?"

His wife and Jessica both looked mad now. "I thought you liked Anna," Jessica snapped. "Once we realized she was the redhead from the bookstore, we thought you'd probably end up sneaking off with her or something."

Bob could feel the heat rising in his face. "Come on," he replied, giving Jessica a look. "There's no way that would have happened. And I didn't give that other woman my number. I didn't even want to talk to her." In a softer voice, he added, "She just started touching me for no reason."

Bradley's wife pulled Bob in for a quick hug as she said, "Pretty soon, you'll be as good at dodging them as Bradley is." She looked him in the eye and quietly asked, "Now what happened with Anna?"

"I don't really know." That was his honest answer. "I was excited to see her again. I guess I imagined she vanished in the bookstore like some sort of romanticized Cinderella fairytale or something stupid when in reality she just... kind of got tired of talking to me. She seemed a little uncomfortable when she saw me again tonight, so that must be it."

"I think you're wrong," she said with conviction that almost made Bob believe it himself. "Jess and I will ask her about it next week."

"Please don't," he groaned, shaking his head. "I'm going to go home. See you at D&D tomorrow," he told Jessica before stopping by the bar to pay for the ginger ales, but Penny just waved him on. He left her a ten dollar tip and walked out to his truck.

It wasn't even that late, and when he parked in front of his duplex, his elderly next door neighbor was still awake with her door propped open for her cat to come back inside. As Bob trudged up the shared walkway with his key in hand, she called out, "Robert! Is that you?"

"Hi, Suzanne," he replied with a laugh. "It's me."

She was sitting on her couch, and he could hear game show reruns playing as she loudly said, "You're home pretty early for a Friday night. Still haven't found a girlfriend?"

Bob groaned. He could kick himself for even mentioning that he wished he had a girlfriend a few weeks ago when he took dinner over for her one Sunday evening. "Still single," he confirmed as he headed for his front door which was all of ten feet away from hers.

She scoffed, and Bob saw her massive cat, Sylvester, streak back inside. "You must not be trying very hard, Robert. Handsome, strong thing like you."

It was like arguing with his grandma, so he just avoided it completely. "Okay, I saw Sylvester run inside, so I'm going to close your front door. Make sure you lock it before you go to sleep. Good night, Suzanne."

He pulled her door closed for her and then unlocked his, and he walked inside to find his copy of A Room with a View sitting on the coffee table. It seemed to be taunting him like it knew he'd seen the adorable redhead again. And struck out a second time. He was confused and hurt and annoyed, and he just wanted to go to bed and pretend like he wasn't as hopeless as he felt.

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

These babes need to get themselves straightened out! Anna, he thinks you're not into him! Bob, she's scared to admit she is! Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 4

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callsign-mayhem · 18 days

Text

heartbreak feels so good (part 1)

Pairing: Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x Reader Word count: 8081 CW: Shitty boyfriends, angst, fluff, slow burn.

Your boyfriend's callsign is Viper, which is fitting. Bradley doesn't know how much longer he can watch this man destroy you, but luckily for him, he doesn't have to wait too long.

Use of Y/N, but no description of reader. THIS IS A MULTI-PART FIC.

After another day of having your feelings totally ignored by your boyfriend, you were looking forward to some alone time. Elijah was so hot and cold that you felt as though you were in a constant state of fight or flight, just waiting for him to either make your day or ruin it completely. Most of the time, it was the latter, and although good days with him were few and far between, they were enough to make you stay. See, you didn’t half-ass anything—least of all relationships—so when you were in something, you were in it. You told Elijah that much after your first date. You’d been sitting in the front of his beemer eating ice cream, having the first of many deep talks. Between sweet, sticky kisses, you’d told him that you were dating to marry. He told you he was, too.

He said, ‘I’m yours if you’ll have me, Y/N.’ And that was that.

And it was almost a year ago. You’d survived a somewhat tumultuous winter with him, desperately trying to cling on to the version of him he’d been during the summer. As time went on, he stopped putting his mask on, secure enough in your relationship that he no longer felt the need to pretend to be caring and considerate. The days were starting to get longer, and the weather was warming up again, but Elijah was so far from the man he was at the start that you might as well have been in a relationship with a different person. Every morning, you woke up with no idea what personality to expect that day, whether or not he was going to take all his personal drama out on you, even though you only ever loved and supported him.

Today had been one of those days, and as you finished up with the F-18 engine currently in pieces in front of you, you silently prayed that he wouldn’t text you asking to come over. He was also a naval aviator, but you were working on different parts of the base today. Thank God. Elijah’s callsign was Viper, fitting since vipers prey on small animals by envenomating them and watching them die slowly.

Coyote appeared behind you, helmet tucked underneath his arm.

‘Hey, we’re all heading to The Hard Deck for beers,’ he told you. ‘You comin’?’ You grabbed a rag and made an attempt to wipe some of the oil off. ‘I don’t know,’ you sighed. ‘I want to, but then I’ll have to bring Elijah, and I don’t really wanna see him tonight.’ ‘Why do you have to bring him?’ Coyote frowned. ‘He’s a lousy drunk and never lets you have any fun.’ ‘If he finds out I went out with all you guys, he’ll think I’m up to something.’ ‘Like gettin’ with me?’ He joked, wiggling his eyebrows. ‘Probably,’ you laughed. ‘You or one of the others. Or maybe he’ll accuse me of getting with all of you if he’s in a particularly bad mood.’ ‘Listen, if you wanna come, you’re welcome. We’ll just make sure nobody posts about it, and we’ll get you a fake moustache or somethin’.’

It broke your heart to think about all your closest friends having a fun night without you. Over the past year, you’d lost count of the amount of experiences you’d missed out on because you didn’t want to make Elijah upset or angry with you. The worst part was it was a double standard. He went out without you all the time, didn’t tell you where he’d gone or who he was with, and expected you to be okay with it. If you weren’t, you could kiss your peace goodbye; he’d spend the next week making your life a living hell, ignoring you entirely until you apologised to him for being hurt by his actions.

‘You know what Javy? Count me in.’ He grinned. ‘Thatta girl.’

It was hard to regret coming out when you felt this good. It had been months since you’d gone on a night out without Elijah, which was to say it had been months since you last enjoyed yourself. As you sipped your second sex on the beach, you mused that some kind of higher power must have been looking out for you because you’d yet to receive a single text from your boyfriend. Most of the time, when you spent the night apart, he’d call you incessantly. It was annoying, sometimes bordering on obsessive, and you didn’t need him to tell you he was checking on you, or rather, checking that you were alone in your apartment. That much was obvious.

Dating an insecure man was not for the weak.

You were sat at one of the high tables next to the window watching Jake, Mickey, Javy, and Reuben play pool. Nat was opposite nursing a beer, glowing in the golden light of the evening. Her phone buzzed, and she picked it up, smiling at the notification.

‘Rooster’s on his way,’ she told you. ‘He wasn’t gonna come out tonight, but I told him he didn’t have a choice. It’s not every day Y/N Y/L/N leaves the comfort of her apartment.’ You scoffed. ‘That’s not exactly how I’d put it.’ ‘No?’ Nat raised a brow.

You hadn’t drunk in months, and despite only being on your second drink, the booze had loosened your lips significantly.

‘No. It’s not that I’d rather stay home, it’s that staying home makes my life easier because then I don’t have Elijah breathing down my fucking neck.’

Little did you know, Javy had told everyone about your conversation earlier. Not because he was a gossip but because he was worried about you. It was rare for you to open up to the squad about your relationship, but it wasn’t hard to guess what happened behind closed doors. They all worked with Viper, for one, and they were familiar with his temperament. Not only that, but you dropped off the face of the Earth a few months after you started dating him, and it didn’t take a genius to put two and two together.

‘I don’t know why you’re still with him, Y/N. He’s an ass.’ ‘I know,’ you sighed, frowning into your drink. ‘It’s just not as straightforward as just leaving. I still love him. If I can make this work, I don’t have to start all over again with someone else.’ Nat nodded in understanding. ‘I get wanting to make it work, but at what cost? You don’t see your friends, and he uses you as an emotional punching bag. You can’t even come to the beach with us without him checking on you every five minutes,’ she reached over the table and took your hand. ‘He’s killing you.’

This was the first time someone had spoken their mind to you about the situation. While you already knew all of it, hearing it from one of your best friends hit home. Vodka made you emotional, and if not for Bradley, you would have broken down there and then.

He walked up to the table and engulfed you in a hug, practically pulling you off your stool. You pressed your face into his shirt, inhaling the scent of clean cotton and sandalwood. Half expecting Elijah to spring out and catch you in the act, you reluctantly pulled away.

‘Hey, Bradley.’ ‘Hey yourself, stranger. Can’t believe you’re gracing us with your presence.’ ‘I know, it’s been a while.’ ‘A while? Try six months,’ he glanced at your almost empty glass and Nat’s empty bottle of Heineken. ‘Can I buy you lovely ladies a drink?’ ‘Do you even have to ask?’ Nat retorted. ‘What’re you drinking, darlin’?’ He asked you. You smiled sheepishly. ‘Sex on the beach.’ ‘I can make that happen.’ He smirked.

Luckily, you didn’t have to come up with a response to that remark because he turned around and headed to the bar. You locked eyes with Nat, and both of you burst out laughing.

Just like that, all the negativity you’d been feeling dissipated like rain against hot tarmac.

Bradley came back with the drinks, and the three of you took the opportunity to catch up while the others finished their pool game. You shouldn’t have been as surprised as you were to find out that you’d missed a lot. Bradley had started dating one of the medics, but the relationship had crashed and burned almost immediately. He hadn’t bothered trying to meet anyone else since. Nat, after watching all her friends have such bad experiences in the dating world, had decided she was better off alone.

‘Honestly, I don’t blame you.’ You told her. ‘You should dump Viper,’ she said with a devilish grin. ‘And we can have a hot girl summer.’ Bradley laughed. ‘Can’t say I ever imagined you saying that, Nix.’ ‘Isn’t that what it’s called now? We can’t be that out of touch, surely.’ ‘I don’t wanna think about how old I am.’ You said, picking up your phone to see if you’d missed any texts from Elijah. You hated to think what kind of argument missing one of his calls would start. Nat and Rooster shared a knowing look. ‘It rings, you know? Out loud.’

Being this transparent was embarrassing.

‘I think I’m going to confiscate this for now.’ Ignoring your protests, Bradley swiped your phone and tucked it into his pocket. ‘If he calls or texts, I’ll let you know.’

You were tipsy enough not to try and take your phone back but not tipsy enough to be unbothered by the idea of Elijah calling and you not picking up.

‘If he calls, I need it back straight away,’ you told him sternly. ‘If I don’t pick up, I’ll never hear the end of it.’

Bradley rolled his eyes, but you knew it wasn’t aimed at you. He hated Elijah the most of all your friends. Perhaps sensing some tension, Nat slid off her stool and grabbed your arm, practically yanking you off yours.

‘Let’s go pick a song,’ she suggested. ‘We can get more drinks on the way back.’

Since it had been so long since you last visited The Hard Deck, she let you choose. You picked Rebel Yell by Billy Idol, your mum’s favourite. Admittedly, you’d been missing your home town a lot more than usual lately, perhaps because you were in such a weird place mentally. Things must be worse than you thought if you were considering running home with your tail between your legs.

As the night went on, you got drunker and drunker. Bradley watched with a bemused grin as you dragged Bob off to the jukebox again, since he was the easiest person to coerce into doing things. How Bradley wished it was him you were clinging to. Not that he was jealous of Bob—because that would be like being jealous of a puppy—he just desperately wanted to be the object of your affection.

While you and Bob went to change the music, Bradley struck up a conversation with Natasha and Reuben, who erupted into laughter when you pulled Bob’s arm so hard he almost toppled over.

‘It’s nice to have Y/N out, huh?’ He observed. Nat looked at him like he was the biggest dickhead in the world. ‘Come on, Bradshaw. He might be an ass, but she’s got a boyfriend.’

Bradley sipped his beer, desperately trying to come up with a believable response. Reuben smirked knowingly, which only made Bradley more annoyed.

‘I don’t have a thing for Y/N.’ ‘Whatever helps you sleep at night, man.’ ‘Come on, Payback. You too?’ Reuben shrugged. ‘Doesn’t take a genius to work it out. You look at her like she’s God’s gift.’

The reason Bradley looked at you like you were God’s gift is because you were, but nobody was supposed to know that.

‘Why do women stay with guys that treat them like shit?’ Bradley asked. ‘Depends on the woman,’ Natasha started. ‘But if you mean Y/N, it’s because she can’t do anything halfway. She told me earlier that it’s because she doesn’t want to start over with someone new, but I don’t think that’s it. She just loves so hard, and it takes a lot out of her. Why would she wanna start the process all over again if she already has someone?’ Bradley was incredulous. ‘Erm, I don’t know, maybe because he’s emotionally abusing her.’

You and Nat were close. In a way, she knew you better than you knew yourself, so she was the best person for Bradley to ask about things. Now, however, he was kind of regretting opening his mouth. Knowing why you were staying with a guy who treated you so badly didn’t make it easier to accept like Bradley thought it would; it only filled him with white-hot rage.

‘It’s not as easy as just leaving. She has to come to it on her own.’ ‘Yeah,’ Reuben chimed in. ‘You can’t convince Y/N of shit.’ Natasha scoffed. ‘Yup, and believe me, I’ve tried.’ ‘So what, we just sit around and watch him ruin her?’ ‘Y/N’s a smart cookie and one of the strongest people I know. She’ll come to her senses, and when she does, we’ll be here.’ ‘You know, I read somewhere once that you can’t save anyone. You can only hold their hand while they save themselves.’ Nat raised a brow. ‘Damn, Payback. That might be the wisest thing you’ve ever said.’ ‘Hey, why do you sound so surprised?’ ‘You really want me to answer that?’

Bradley had a lot to think about. Realistically, he knew there was nothing he could do. His only option was to let things unfold naturally and have faith that things would work out exactly the way they were supposed to. The only problem was, that sounded too much like ‘sit back and do nothing,’ which didn’t feel right either.

Bradley needed another drink.

In fact, he was just about to head to the bar when you came bounding over, dragging poor Bob behind you.

‘Roooooooooster.’ You cooed.

His heart just about melted when you started batting your eyelashes at him.

‘What’s up, Y/CS?’

Everyone else was watching the interaction expectantly, waiting to hear what you were going to say next.

‘You’re really pretty.’ Bradley laughed, hoping you were too drunk to notice the blush he could feel creeping across his cheeks. ‘Thank you. You’re really pretty, too.’ Nat, sensing the need to intervene, came around and gently grabbed your arm. ‘Hey, let’s get you a glass of water, huh?’ ‘But I need to tell Roo how pretty he looks.’

Bradley’s heart fluttered at your use of the pet name. He really didn’t want you to leave, but Nat was right. You needed some water and probably your bed.

‘You told him already, Y/N. And when you get back, you can tell him again.’

She started leading you away, and Bradley immediately missed your presence.

A very flushed-looking Bob took Nat’s empty stool. ‘That girl is somethin’ else.’ He murmured, pushing his glasses back up his nose. ‘I don’t think you should let her drink anymore.’ ‘I’m not her keeper,’ Bradley responded. ‘Can’t stop her from doing anything.’ Bob shrugged. ‘Maybe so, but you’re all she talked about. You and the fact that there’s no Fall Out Boy in the jukebox. Pretty sure she called it a ‘fucking tragedy.’’ Bradley leaned forward. ‘What did she say about me?’ ‘You know,’ Bob waved a hand dismissively. ‘You’re pretty. Her boyfriend is gonna kill her if he finds out she’s here with you because he thinks you have a thing for her.’ Bradley was at a loss for words. Reuben, however, was grinning like a fool. ‘What was that about not having a thing for her? Even her boyfriend’s caught on, man.’ ‘How many times do I have to say I do not have a thing for-’

An annoyingly loud ringing sound interrupted Bradley’s sentence. It didn’t sound like his ringtone, but the noise was coming from his pocket. It took him too long to remember that he had your phone in his pocket, and that it was probably Viper calling. Sure enough, when he took out your phone, he was greeted by a sickeningly sweet photo of you and your boyfriend on the beach. You and Nat were still at the bar, and he knew he should just let it ring so you could call him back later.

But something had a hold of Bradley, and he answered the call and pressed the phone to his ear before he could really process what he was doing.

‘Y/N’s phone.’

A beat of silence, then some of the most colourful language Bradley had ever heard in his life.

‘Who the fuck is this, and why the fuck have you got my girlfriend’s phone?’ ‘Y/N can’t come to the phone right now. She’s at the bar with her friend, gettin’ another round of drinks, and I just know hearing your voice would ruin her night. It’s ruined mine, that’s for sure. If you want, I can take a message, and she’ll get back to you in the morning.’

Reuben was nearly on the floor, trying desperately not to laugh in case Viper heard him. Bob had paled significantly, like he’d seen a ghost—or worse.

‘That you, Bradshaw? I just knew something was going on-’

Bradley hung up. The severity of the situation was beginning to hit, and despite the sick satisfaction he’d felt when he picked up the phone, he was regretting his decision already.

‘Y/N is gonna kill you, Rooster.’ Bob told him.

Nat made the sensible decision to cut you off, but she said you could stay out with them until closing if you promised to keep drinking water and stop fucking around with the jukebox. That was how you ended up in the corner of a booth with Bradley next to you to stop you from escaping.

Not that you’d want to escape.

Mickey had joined, and the guys were playing cards while you and Nat talked. She was catching you up on her life, and it made a change to think about someone other than Elijah for once.

That’s when it hit you.

You hadn’t checked your phone in hours, and you dreaded to think how many texts and calls you’d missed.

‘Bradley, can I have my phone?’

He set his hand of cards down on the table and reached into his pocket. When you reached out to take it, he pulled away.

‘Before I give this to you, I need to tell you something.’

A wave of nausea hit you.

‘What? What’s going on?’ ‘Viper called about an hour ago. You were at the bar, and I didn’t know what to do, so I answered it.’ Reuben leaned forward in his seat. ‘Oh, this is about to be good.’

You thought you knew what panic felt like, but up until this very moment, you had no idea. Bradley was lucky you didn’t throw up in his lap from the nerves.

‘What?’ ‘I’m sorry, Y/N. I wasn’t thinking-’

You snatched your phone from him, ignoring the kicked-puppy expression he was sporting. A slew of angry text messages that were borderline abusive greeted you. You skimmed them quickly, not wanting to read too many in case you started crying in front of the entire squad.

What started out as the best night you’d had in a while quickly turned into the worst. Your boyfriend's hateful messages reminded you why you never went out and why this was the biggest mistake you could have made.

The worst part was you saw it coming.

‘Move,’ you said, grabbing your bag. ‘Bradley, let me out now.’ ‘You can’t drive like this, Y/N. Let one of us take you home.’

Bradley sounded destroyed. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at him.

‘Move.’

He nudged Bob, who stood up so Bradley could climb out of the booth. You were close behind him, and when your feet touched the floor, you nearly keeled over. Bradley reached out to steady you, but you shook him off.

‘Y/N. You can’t leave like this. How are you gonna get home?’

Ignoring his pleas, you made a beeline for the exit. Nat shoved Reuben into Mickey, trying to hurry them out of the booth so she could follow you, but you were surprisingly fast for a drunk person. Bradley was right about one thing: there was no way you could drive in this state. You ducked around the corner so Nat couldn’t see you and sank to the floor. Hot tears prickled behind your eyes as you did the one thing you didn’t want to do, but the only thing you could do.

You called Elijah.

He didn’t answer the first, second, third, or fourth time.

Half an hour passed, and you didn’t move. At one point, you heard Bradley, Nat, and Reuben talking around the corner, coming up with a plan for where to look for you. They knew you were on foot because your car was still in the lot, and since you’d disappeared so quickly, you couldn’t have gotten far. If the situation weren’t so tragic, it would’ve been funny that you were hiding ten paces away, and none of them could find you.

It was getting very late. People were getting in their cars and leaving or jumping into Ubers. Soon, your Jeep would be the only car left. You couldn’t face the daggers, and you couldn’t drive home, so you picked yourself up and took a slow walk down the beach to where the water met the sand.

What a beautiful night to have your heart broken.

There was no way Elijah would ever forgive you for this, no way you’d ever be able to

convince him that nothing had happened between you and Bradley. The sane part of you knew that it was crazy to feel guilty for simply enjoying a night out with your friends, but the sane part of you rarely won these days. The part of you that loved Elijah was always loudest and knew this could never have gone any other way.

You were just about to resign yourself to calling a cab when you heard someone yelling your name from the top of the beach.

You either had the best or worst luck in the world because it was Bradley.

He made short work of the distance, giving you no time to come up with something to say. He looked otherworldly in the pale moonlight. His hair was slightly mused, and the same insane part of you that loved what it loved was whispering at you to run your fingers through it.

‘We’ve been looking all over for you, Y/N.’ He sounded very concerned as he pulled out his phone and texted the others to let them know you were safe. ‘I’m sorry, I just needed to be alone.’

You hadn’t even realised you were shivering until Bradley draped his Levi jacket over your shoulders.

‘You needed to be alone, or you needed to call Viper back?’ The tears threatened to make another appearance. ‘It’s none of your business.’ ‘What makes you think it’s not my business? I care about you and don’t want to keep watching you get hurt.’ ‘Then stop watching!’

Bradley recoiled, and you immediately felt awful. How Elijah spoke to you like that day in and day out without feeling guilty was a mystery to you.

‘I’m sorry, Bradley,’ you sighed, pulling his jacket tighter around you. ‘I didn’t mean to snap. I’m just very drunk and very emotional right now.’

He softened immediately and seemed torn about whether he should let you stand there freezing or pull you close. You hoped he wouldn’t try to pull you close because you didn’t think you’d have the guts to tell him no. Good feelings had been so incredibly hard to come by as of late.

‘Why are you still with him, Y/N?’ Bradley asked almost pleadingly.

Wow. He didn’t waste any time getting right to the point.

‘That’s a loaded question.’ ‘I need you to explain it to me because it’s killing me.’

You thought about it for a moment, and Bradley waited with bated breath to hear what you had to say.

In the end, it was this: ‘I guess we accept the love we think we deserve.’

Until you said it out loud, this phrase held little meaning to you. Now that it was out in the open, it was very heavy. In the last few months you’d tried coming up with a decent explanation as to why you were staying with Elijah, and you fell short every time. Turns out all you needed to do was get drunk and have an honest conversation to figure it out.

Coming to the realisation that what you’d just said was true felt like being in freefall. Everything in your life was changing shape to fit around this ugly truth. The good things in your heart shied away in the face of this monstrous fact.

You didn’t think you deserved a healthy love.

Somehow, Bradley was more hurt by this than when you’d snapped at him earlier. He was staring at the ground, unable to meet your eye like you’d just told him he wasn’t worthy of love.

‘You don’t think you deserve to be happy?’

Hearing him say it was somehow even worse.

‘Apparently not.’

You were both quiet for a moment, and then, for whatever reason, you laughed.

‘This is news to me too.’

The waves crashed loudly, water lapping at your feet as the tide came in. You couldn’t stand out here having epiphanies all night.

‘Listen, Rooster, I need to go home. I’m sorry for snapping.’ ‘I’ll take you home,’ he said quietly. ‘But we should talk tomorrow when you’re sober. Maybe we could get coffee.’ You shook your head. ‘After tonight, I don’t think that’s a smart idea. I’ll probably be spending tomorrow trying to salvage what’s left of my relationship.’ ‘You’re not serious.’ ‘I am.’

He opened his mouth to protest but then appeared to change his mind. You watched as all the fight he had left in him dissolved. There was nothing left for him to say, and he knew it.

The irritating birds that constantly chirped right outside your bedroom window woke you up. It was too damn early, and your head felt as though it was splitting open. When you sat up, you were hit by a wave of nausea so strong that you had no other choice but to sprint to the bathroom, smashing into the corner of your chest of drawers on the way.

Which was to say, it was a bad morning.

After you had puked up the entire contents of your stomach, you jumped straight in the shower, brushed your teeth, and did your skincare. At least if Elijah showed up at your front door, you wouldn’t look like you got super drunk last night, even though he’d probably already guessed.

When you checked your phone, there were still no notifications from him, and when you called, there was no answer. This wasn’t unlike him, but it had been almost twelve hours since Bradley picked up your phone, and you would have thought he’d have something to say by now.

To distract yourself from your impending doom, you threw open all the windows in your apartment, made your bed, unloaded and reloaded the dishwasher—all the usual morning tasks. It seemed a shame to waste such a beautiful Saturday, but you doubted you’d enjoy any of your hobbies when you were this anxious and hungover.

With nothing else left to do, you set about making some breakfast.

Just as you put your bagel in the toaster, somebody knocked on the door.

Your stomach twisted itself into an impossibly tight knot. You were rooted to the spot, unable to move until whoever it was knocked a second time.

You looked through the peephole, expecting to see Elijah standing there with his dark eyebrows knitted together in frustration. It was the only scenario that had crossed your mind, so when you saw Bradley standing there, you were very surprised.

You took a deep breath and opened the door, greeted by the warm scent of sandalwood once again.

‘Bradley?’

He was holding two iced lattes, which you were betting were vanilla—your favourite. Elijah hadn’t done that for you since the first week of your relationship.

‘Hey, Y/N. Thought you could use this.’

He wasn’t wrong. You ushered him inside, and he headed to the kitchen, where he

perched himself on one of the stools at your kitchen island. This morning, he was sporting one of his more toned-down Hawaiian shirts and dark jeans. His eyelids drooped, and you wondered if he’d slept at all.

‘I was just about to make bagels. Want one?’ ‘Sure, thank you.’

You busied yourself, putting bacon and eggs into a pan while he sipped his coffee, eyeing

you with the curiosity of someone who had come over to check you were all in one piece. Once he was satisfied that you were, he relaxed slightly.

‘Thank you for bringing me home last night. I really appreciate it.’ You told him earnestly. ‘You don’t need to thank me. You’d have done the same thing.’ ‘True, but still. And I’m sorry for snapping at you.’

Last night was gradually coming back to you in flashes, like a supercut. Each time you remembered a new detail, you cringed internally.

‘You also don’t need to apologise. Has he called you?’

While the eggs and bacon were cooking, you toasted another bagel for Bradley and buttered yours. Even though you’d known him for years and been quite close until you got into a relationship, you were struggling to admit that you were pretty much being ghosted. It was already hard to walk around on base knowing that everybody was aware of how Elijah treated you. When you didn’t respond, Bradley took that as a no.

‘Well, that’s his problem,’ he spat. ‘You did absolutely nothing wrong. Maybe if he were less of a control freak, you would have felt like you could tell him you were out with us rather than hiding it, and then he wouldn’t have found out the way he did.’

The toaster popped, and you jumped. It felt like somebody had run a cheese grater over your nerves. Bradley ran his fingers through his hair and took a deep breath, clearly trying to reign in his anger.

‘I should apologise too,’ he continued. ‘I shouldn’t have answered your phone. It was a dick move, and I regretted it the instant I did it.’

You buttered the second bagel, put one egg on each of the bottom halves, and stacked two pieces of bacon on top before adding the top part. You didn’t say a word the entire time, and Bradley was starting to get antsy.

‘Y/N. Please talk to me.’ ‘I don’t know what to say, Roo. I’m struggling even to think straight right now. He knows it drives me fucking crazy when he’s having a go at me and doesn’t respond. I don’t understand why he does it, knowing how it makes me feel.’ Bradley sighed. ‘Because he doesn’t give a shit how you feel. He doesn’t give a shit about anything other than himself and how he feels.’

This wasn’t news to you, but again, it was more impactful to hear someone else say it out loud. Really, how long could you keep this up? Whether you thought you deserved it or not, you were starting to wonder if you might be better off alone than with someone who made living feel like walking next to a cliff with your eyes closed.

You pushed Bradley’s plate across the counter and picked up your bagel. Eating felt impossible, but getting through the day with this headache would be excruciating if you didn’t at least try.

‘Come and sit down,’ Bradley said. ‘It’s not good to eat standing up.’ Despite everything, you managed to laugh. And this time, it was a real laugh. ‘Why?’ A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. ‘I don’t know. My mum used to say it all the time.’

You did as you were told, and you walked around the island, taking the seat next to him. The two of you ate in companionable silence, periodically taking sips of your coffees. This was how easy it should have been with Elijah.

When you were both finished, Bradley put your plates, pan, and utensils into the dishwasher. You were too tired to tell him to stop.

‘Thanks for breakfast.’ You smiled. ‘Thanks for being you.’

Bradley’s smile mirrored your own. Unsaid words hung in the air, but you didn’t know what to say. His leaving didn’t feel right, but if he stayed and Elijah made an appearance, he’d most definitely break up with you.

But wasn’t this radio silence all the confirmation you needed that things were pretty much over, anyway? You were starting to wonder if this weekend had all happened exactly the way it was supposed to. Your eyes were indeed open, that was for sure. Of course, you’d known that the relationship wasn’t healthy, but this weekend had really driven the point home.

‘Do you wanna go for a walk along the beach?’ You asked, hopefully. ‘We could grab some ice cream at that little place next to the arcade.’

Bradley didn’t just look happy. He also looked relieved that you weren’t asking him to leave.

‘I’d love to.’

It was a beautiful Spring day, perfect walking weather. Honestly, it was the last thing Bradley expected you to suggest, so he jumped on the idea before you could change your mind and send him home.

Because he really didn’t want to go home.

He’d sensed that you didn’t want to talk about Viper, and you’d yet to bring up your conversation on the beach last night. Bradley was beginning to doubt that you even remembered everything you said—all that nonsense about not deserving a healthy love. Bradley didn’t take you as a liar, which meant you believed that you weren’t deserving of happiness. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt quite so sad and also angry at the same time. So many emotions were warring for the top spot in his heart, and as a result, his brain was incredibly foggy.

A walk along the beach with you was perhaps the only cure.

‘Did you hear about Hangman?’ Bradley assumed you hadn’t. ‘No?’ ‘He’s getting deployed. He’s leaving next month.’ ‘How long is he going for?’ ‘Six months.’ You whistled lowly. ‘Damn.’ ‘I know. I think he’s looking forward to it, though. I sure am.’ ‘You know, I don’t think you hate him half as much as you say.’ Bradley chuckled. ‘Maybe not, but being nice to him wouldn’t feel right. Even after everything that happened on the mission.’

The two of you walked down the beach, chit-chatting about anything that came to mind. You were about halfway to the ice cream place when your phone pinged. Bradley guessed it would be Viper, but he never could have guessed what the message said.

It was a photo of you and Bradley walking down the beach, taken from behind. The picture had been forwarded to you from someone else.

E<3: always knew you were a slut.

You inhaled sharply, obviously hurt by the words on the screen. Not two seconds later, he sent another text.

E<3: PS: we’re fucking over.

The two of you had stopped walking. Bradley watched over your shoulder as you furiously typed a reply and deleted it again. You turned to face him, and his heart just about broke when he saw the tears streaming down your cheeks. You didn’t need to say a word. He pulled you close to him, wrapping you tightly in his arms. You stayed that way for a while, sobbing into his Hawaiian shirt as he rubbed your back soothingly. When you eventually pulled away, the first thing you did was apologise.

‘There’s nothing for you to be sorry for, sweet girl. He’s the one who should be sorry.’ You sniffled. ‘I don’t know what to reply.’ ‘Leave it for now,’ he said. ‘We can go get ice cream, take a slow walk back to yours. Then I’ll help you think of something.’ ‘I don’t know if I feel like ice cream anymore.’ ‘Well, that’s too bad because I do. Ice cream is the best remedy for heartbreak.’ ‘Did your mum tell you that too?’ ‘She sure did.’

It turns out Bradley was right about ice cream being the best remedy for heartbreak. The two of you sat on the wall, watching the waves while he munched on a mint chocolate chip cone and you butterscotch. It was hard to tell whether it was the best ice cream you’d ever had or if it was because you were with Bradley. If you remembered correctly, you’d had ice cream from this same place with Elijah before, and it hadn’t been this nice.

Thinking back on your memories with him only made you want to cry, so you did your best to shove them to the back of your mind. Despite the fact that he was actually a very shitty person, he’d been a dream at the beginning, and that didn’t just go away. The happy moments didn’t just suddenly turn to ash, as much as you wished they would.

‘What are your plans for the rest of the night?’ Bradley asked around his ice cream cone. ‘I don’t know, Roo. I’m kinda working on a minute-to-minute basis right now.’ Bradley nodded. ‘Okay, well, what would you say to junk food run and a movie night?’ ‘With you? ‘If you want to. I just don’t think it’s good for you to be alone.’ ‘I don’t want you to feel like you have to babysit me.’ ‘Is that what you think this is?’ ‘No, but I don’t want to be a burden. Or a charity case.’ ‘Y/N, you’re none of those things. I always want to spend time with you. Just so happens I have a good excuse today.’ You frowned into your ice cream. ‘Okay. As long as you’re sure.’

The two of you finished your ice cream and took a slow walk back to your apartment. When you got in, the first thing you noticed was a framed photograph of you and your now ex-boyfriend on the side table in the hallway. When your bottom lip started trembling, Bradley picked up the photo, put it face down, and then proceeded to run around your apartment and take down any others. It didn’t feel like the same place you’d left a few hours ago. It was haunted by memories that would never look right in the light of day. Even the happiest ones from the start were tainted with the ugliness of his cruel words and actions.

‘This place is so depressing.’ You grumbled.

Bradley stood in front of you with a stack of photos and one of Elijah’s t-shirts.

‘It’s not. It’s your home, Y/N. We just have to pack away his stuff and put it all in a box.’ ‘An ex-boyfriend box.’ Bradley smiled sadly. ‘Yeah, exactly. It might be over, and he might be a dick, but it was still a big part of your life, and it’s important to keep the memories safe in case you wanna look back on them someday.’ ‘Or in case I wanna burn them.’ ‘That too.’ Bradley chuckled

So you helped him gather all the mementoes from your relationship and put them in an old Dr Martens box. It all looked pretty pathetic, packed away in a shoebox.

‘I found one of his hoodies and a few other things.’ You called from your bedroom. ‘Can you grab me a bin bag from the top of the fridge?’

You heard shuffling, and then Bradley was standing in the doorway holding out the bag you requested.

‘Damn, he doesn’t even get one of the nice Trader Joe's bags?’ ‘No,’ you giggled. ‘He gets a trash bag because his stuff is trash, and he’s trash.’

You weren’t really at the stage where you believed that just yet, but saying it was really satisfying, and it felt good to laugh. Fake it till you make it or whatever.

‘Want me to give it to him tomorrow?’ ‘Thanks, but I should really be the one to do it. I haven’t even texted him back.’ You thought about it for a moment and then continued. ‘Would it be cheeky of me to ask if you’ll come with me? Maybe Nat, too? I could use some moral support, and he’s less likely to make a scene if the two of you are there.’ ‘Of course I’ll be there. I won’t say anything unless you need me to or unless he starts. I can’t make that same promise for Nix, though.’ ‘I haven’t even told Nat yet,’ you sighed. ‘I don’t think I wanna talk about it right this second.’ ‘I’ll text her. Don’t worry about it.’

From your spot on the floor, you looked up at Bradley. The evening sunlight was streaming in through the windows, casting an ethereal glow around him.

‘You should change your callsign to angel.’ A look of pleasant surprise flickered across his handsome features. ‘Why?’ ‘Because you’re literally my angel, Roo. I don’t know what I’d have done without you.’

Half an hour later, Bradley convinced you to go on a junk food run with him in the Bronco. He said tonight was a mandatory, post-breakup wallowing sesh because if you bottled up your feelings now, you’d explode later at a much more inconvenient time.

The two of you had been screaming along to all the classic breakup songs: All Too Well by Taylor Swift (yes, he knew all the words), Who Knew by Pink, What About Now by Daughtry… He’d driven the long way to the store because you got so into it.

Now, as you scanned the shelves in Target, you asked: ‘What is it about screaming sad songs that makes you feel better?’ ‘It’s cathartic,’ Bradley explained. ‘Helps you relieve the strong feelings.’ ‘You know a lot about heartbreak.’ ‘Well, I’ve had my fair share of sadness.’ You froze. ‘That was insensitive of me, I’m sorry.’ Bradley took the packed of Reeses Pieces from your hands so he could hold them. ‘Can you make me a promise?’ ‘What?’ You asked sceptically. ‘Promise you’re gonna stop apologising to me all the time. You have nothing to be sorry for.’ ‘Sorry.’ You smiled sheepishly. He shook his head. ‘That’s not what you’re supposed to say.’ ‘Okay, fine,’ you huffed. ‘I promise to stop apologising all the time.’ ‘Thank you,’ Bradley said, releasing your hands reluctantly. ‘Now, pick out five more things.’ ‘Five? There’s already five things in the basket.’ ‘Did I ask?’ ‘I’m gonna get fat.’ ‘Don’t be so ridiculous. Wallowing means junk food, and I don’t know if you’re looking at the same basket I am, but that’s not enough junk food.’ ‘Christ Almighty, okay.’

He helped you pick out five more things, and then you headed to check out.

‘What movies are good for wallowing?’ You asked. ‘Well, we have to start with a couple of sad ones and then finish with a happy one.’

The cashier told you your total, and Bradley tapped his card before you could even get yours out. You gave him a withering look.

‘I would’ve paid for that. You paid for the ice cream.’ ‘So?’ ‘So we should take it in turns.’

Obviously, he carried the bags as well, and as you walked back to the Bronco, he couldn’t help but wonder if Viper made you take it in turns. If you were his girl, you’d never have to tap your card.

‘What’s your favourite sad movie?’ He inquired. You opened the trunk for him so he could put the bags in. ‘Technically, it’s not a sad movie. But there’s this part in Inside Out…Wait, have you watched it before? I don’t wanna spoil it for you.’ ‘The part where Bing Bong gets forgotten?’ You gasped. ‘How did you know?’ ‘Because it gets me every single time.’

The way you looked at him in that moment, like he had hung the moon in the sky—God, it was too much.

‘We’ll start with Inside Out,’ he told you, opening the passenger door so you could climb in. ‘And then we’ll think of something else.’

Without giving much thought to what he was doing, Bradley found himself buckling your seatbelt for you. You were holding your breath, and it dawned on him how easy it would be to kiss you if he were that sort of guy.

And as much as he wanted to kiss you, he was not that sort of guy. He wasn’t about to take advantage of the fact that some asshole had just taken a sledgehammer to your very beautiful heart.

‘Can we watch Bridge To Terabithia?’ You whispered.

Bradley hadn’t moved, and you were so close that he could feel your warm breath on his cheek.

‘Are you trying to break my heart, Y/N?’ ‘Yes. I want you to feel my pain.’

He was grinning the whole way around the car to the driver’s side and still grinning when he got in the car. You already had his phone in your hand, searching for more sad songs so you could continue your car concert on the way back to your apartment. He drove the long way again so the two of you could finish your rendition of ‘I Don’t Love You’ by My Chemical Romance, which Bradley didn’t know the words to. He tried his best, though, because you seemed to love it, and he couldn’t deny you anything.

By the time you got home, the sun had almost entirely set. While he set the snacks out on the coffee table, you went around lighting candles and switching on fairy lights. He’d never seen your apartment in the dark, and it was incredibly cosy. Even though it was relatively warm, you dragged all your blankets and pillows from your bed and made a little nest on the sofa. You were so adorable, it was hard to believe that someone could treat you badly.

If you were his girl, every night would look like this—except you’d be a lot happier, and there would be no tears.

Halfway through Bridge To Terebitha, you fell asleep. Bradley had been trying to keep his distance despite wanting to wrap you up in his arms, yet somehow—in your sleep—you’d ended up with your legs in his lap. He’d frozen at first, but once he realised you were dead to the world, he allowed himself to rest his hands on your knees. Really, it was that or sit with his arms crossed, and that would be silly.

For the duration of the movie, his attention flickered between you and the TV. Every time he tried paying attention to what was happening, his eyes wandered back to your peaceful face. He marvelled at your astounding beauty, the delicate way your eyelashes rested against the tops of your rosy cheeks. Bradley had always admired you, and you’d been good friends for years, but what he felt in that moment was something else entirely. By the time the end credits started rolling, he knew without a doubt that he’d set whole cities ablaze to keep you warm. Feelings as rapidly growing as his should have been terrifying, but Bradley wasn’t scared. Falling in love with you seemed to be as easy as wading out into a calm ocean on a warm summer’s day.

He knew you’d yet to learn that falling in love and staying in love should always be this easy. He knew it was going to take some time to convince you that you deserved healthy love, that the right person would never run away from you and keep turning around to make sure you were chasing them.

But Bradley was a patient man, and he would wait as long as he had to.

End of part one.

352 notes · View notes

forever-rogue · 1 year

Note

may i request one where joel finds comfort hugging reader in a bone crushing hug after a long day 👉👈

do with it what you will fluff angst spice ill take them allll i just want this man to crush me and id welcome it hehe

AN | One bone-crushing hug with a side of angst and softness coming right up 🥰

Pairing | Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Warnings | Language

Word Count | 2k

Masterlist | Joel, Main

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You looked at the watch on your wrist and sighed softly. The watch didn't work. It hadn't for a long time.

But he'd given it to you and that made it special. You'd never taken it off, even when the battery died. He insisted he'd get you a new watch or even a new battery at the very least. You never took him up on the offer; it didn't matter to you whether or not ticked away as long as you had it.

Normally it served as a bit of reassurance. Today it served as a reminder that he was gone. Not gone, but gone for long enough that you were starting to get worried. Not that you would ever admit that to anyone. You didn't want to appear weak, but you also didn't want to cause anyone else to worry.

But this wasn't like Joel; he was never gone for more than two or three days at most.

It had been over a week.

And not knowing what happened to your lover was brutal.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

"Worryin' isn't going to solve anything."

"Well, not worrying isn't solving anything either," you threw a hard look at Tommy and shrugged before going back to your relentless pacing, "so if I have the option, I'll choose worrying."

"It's probably the bad weather," he mused, and you were sure he was trying to convince himself of that as much as you, "could be a lot of things. Jumping to the worst possible conclusion isn't…"

"I love your eternal optimism," you stood in front of the windows and looked towards the gate as you often did, "but I'd rather expect the worst and be pleasantly surprised when he comes back. Versus the alternative."

The younger Miller brother nodded before letting out a long sigh, "I know."

"I'm scared, Tommy. It was supposed to be a simple supply run," stopping suddenly, you turned to him, eyes glittering with unscheduled tears, "what if he doesn't come back? It shouldn't have taken this long. I don't know what I'll do. I-I…"

He remained but hugged you tightly, trying to soak in all the worry and doubt you had. If it was an option, he would have taken all the worry and fear from you and dealt with it himself. If only.

"Why don't you go home for now and get some rest?" he suggested softly, wiping away the tears that had rolled down your cheeks, "I'll stay here. I'll let you know if anything changes."

"Tommy-"

"Go and be with the kids," he whispered as your heart panged. You knew Ellie was just as worried about you, but she was the glue holding you all together right now, "they need you too."

"Okay," you nodded, "thank you."

"It'll be okay," he promised and you desperately wanted to hang onto his hope. All you could do was give him a small nod.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

By the time you got home, you were spent and felt like you could use a year long nap. You closed the door behind out and let out a long sigh, letting go of everything you'd been holding back as you kicked your shoes off.

You heard Ellie's voice in the living accompanied by a small set of giggles. Your heart softened at the sound and your heart yearned to be with them. You shred your coat before making your way over to them, Ellie on the floor on a big fluffy blanket as she played with the little girl. Your little girl; but really they were both your girls.

The two of them stopped as soon as they heard you, Ellie offering you a small smile and Emma babbling and cooing happily. There had never been anyone you'd loved more than these two…and Joel.

You walked over to them and sat down, pressing a kiss to the top of Ellie's head before pulling the baby into your lap. She squirmed as she tried to hug onto you, "she's been really talkative today. As much as a one-year-old can be."

"I wonder who she gets that from," she teased, causing the girl to grin sheepishly.

"Definitely not Joel."

"Definitely not Joel," you agreed. You sat back against the couch let out a long breath as you pulled up your legs and laid Emma against them, giving her tickles which only caused her to laugh harder.

"She looks like him," Ellie stroked her rosy, chubby cheek as you nodded. She had the same big, brown eyes and roguish hair, her expression often appearing as though she was deep in thought, "he's going to be okay, you know."

"Ellie…"

"I mean it," she insisted in that steadfast way she often did, "he'd never leave you or her o-or…"

"You," you finished for her, "we're all family, Ellie Bean."

"Yeah," she sat next to you and leaned her head on your shoulder, "he'll come back. Nothing would stop him."

"You're right," and god, you hoped she and Tommy were right, "he'll be home soon."

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Several more agonizing days passed without any word, and the nagging feeling in the pit of your stomach felt like it was going to eat you alive. Even Ellie, happy, optimistic Ellie, was started to show signs of worry. She’d never admit it, but she didn’t have to; it was written all over your face. You were just glad that Emma was still a baby and wouldn’t remember any of this.

That thought alone had led you down a rabbit hole of worry. What if he didn’t come back? What if she never got to see her father again? What if she didn’t remember him? How were you supposed to raise and take care of Ellie and Emma all on your own?

You groaned as you startled awake for what was the umpteenth night in a row. You hadn’t been sleeping much; every time you managed to fall deep enough into slumber, the dreams - nightmares - came again and caused you to wake up. Most of the time you ended up giving up on sleep and would sit in the kitchen, nursing a mug of tea that grew cold as the sun came up.

A book was currently in front of you, one you’d read a hundred times before, but you weren’t actually taking anything in. Your mind kept wandering, wandering, wandering. You were so lost in thought and so zoned out at the same time that you almost missed the pounding on the door. You almost ran to the door when you snapped back into reality, trying to keep the noise from waking the girls up.

When you got to the door, you wretched it open without even looking to see who it was. It was Tommy, wild-eyed and looking somewhere between excited and nervous.

“Come,” he didn’t hesitate to grab your arm as he pulled you out of the door, “come.”

“What’s going on?” you looked at him, confused but going along with him. You noticed that the front gate was closing and a group of people were nearby. The hairs on your arms stood up as a shiver ran down your spine, “Tommy?”

The crowd slowly parted and you felt like your heart felt like it stopped in your chest. Part of you wondered if you were dreaming, but you felt Tommy squeeze your shoulder, “go.”

Your feet were carrying you, faster and faster until the rest of the crowd dissipated and you found yourself face to face with him.

“Joel,” you hadn’t even realized you were crying, weren’t consciously aware of anything else but him.

You didn’t get a chance to say anything else before he threw his arms around you, wrapping into the tightest, most bone-crushing hug imaginable. You didn’t care; you wouldn’t have cared if his touch bruised you black and blue. It was him, he was home, he was here.

You held him back just as fiercely, and you could physically feel the tension in his body ease as he let himself relax into your familiar touch. You weren’t even sure how long he you, how long you clung onto his body before you finally parted.

He took your face in his hands, his touch calloused but tender as he studied, almost as if he too didn’t believe you were real. He looked worse for the wear, but nothing unmanageable, nothing that would take him from you. And then he smiled, the same wonderful, lovely smile that made his dimple appear and the corners of his eyes crinkle, “sweet, beautiful abejita. I heard you were already planning my funeral.”

A moment of silence passed before you burst into laughter, tears - this time of joy and happiness - running down your face. Joel brushed them all away before kissing you softly. There was no way to properly put into words how much you’d missed this, him. When you pulled back you felt his arms wrap around your waist, “even if you didn’t come back, I’d find you and kill you myself if you thought you were going to get away with leaving me with two monsters to raise on my own.”

“Fuck, I’ve missed you,” you buried your face into his chest and breathed him in. It didn’t matter that he was sweaty and dirty; him being here was enough, “you and that mouth and everything else about you.”

“I’ve missed you too,” you looped your arms around his neck and held onto him tightly, hugging him as you rocked back and forth, “I love you.”

“Terribly,” he agreed in the way that he was prone to doing, “I’ll always come back home to my girls. Even if I have to come crawling back.”

“Joel!” the small voice came from behind you. You turned to find Ellie there, holding a warmly bundled up Emma in her arms. Word got around fast, “you’re back.”

He let out a sigh of relief at the sight of his girls, dropping to his knees in front of them as he looked them both over. The baby, miraculously, was still sleeping, but he stroked her cheek before repeating the gesture on Ellie. She swallowed thickly, tears unshed in her eyes as he hugged the two of them, gently, delicately.

“I missed you both,” he promised, not that there had ever been a question on that. Ellie nodded, at a loss for words, “what, kid? No smart comment from you?”

“No,” she shook her head, a few tears falling down her cheeks, “I missed you. I’m glad you’re home, Joel.”

“Me too,” he promised, turning back to find you watching them with nothing but reverent fondness in your eyes, as you smiled at him, “me too.”

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x fem!reader #joel miller x you #joel miller imagine #joel miller one shot #pedro pascal #tlou #tlou hbo

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luveline · 1 year

Note

Hiiii, Jade <3 How are you? Could you please write a single dad!au for Spencer? Pretty please, with a cherry on top :*

hi! I'm okay thanks so much, and ty for your request! I hope you like it ♥︎ single!dad spencer x fem!bau!reader

Amanda is, as you'd expect, a very small version of her father but without the photographic memory. She is a happy, lovely, caring sweetheart of a child, and everytime you see her, you think you might like to marry her dad.

There's something to be said for the heart of a parent. You look at Amanda and it amplifies every bit of Spencer's goodness, especially now when she's napping in Spencer's lap at his desk in the bullpen, completely at ease. He has one hand behind her back and the other stretched over to his desk.

"You know," Emily whispers, leaning against your desk with two hot cups of coffee, "he told me why he named her Amanda. It might kill you."

You take one of the coffees. "Thank you… Do I wanna know?"

Your crush on Spencer is common knowledge for everybody except him: he's a genius in everything beside social relationships.

"Amanda," Emily says quietly, "I don't remember the Latin word he definitely told us it's derived from, but I do remember what it meant. 'To be loved,' and 'Worthy, of love.'" She raises her eyebrows at you. "He said he wanted there to be no mistake. That she was loved from the beginning, and she always will be."

"Oh no," you say.

"Yeah."

"Are you kidding?" you ask.

Emily laughs as you cover your face with both hands, long sleeves pulled over your fingers. You hide away from the world and Spencer and his tiny pretty daughter and pray you'll be swallowed up by your uncomfortable chair.

"You'll be okay," Emily says. "Drink your coffee. Only six hours 'til we get to go home."

"I don't even really want coffee," you mumble, lips against the rim of your cup.

She pats your shoulder. You return to your work but absolutely can't focus. Ever since you started your job here at the bureau you've had the world's worst, most ridiculous crush on Spencer. There are a myriad of reasons why but the most important is that he talks to you. Everyday, all the time, he talks about things you'd never even heard of before, and he talks about the weather. He knows more about you than most people know and he shows it so subtly.

He links trade routes back to your favourite treats, because this boat got stuck in this place so there's going to be a short supply but he knows where you can get some and he can get them for you the next time he goes. He read this book lately by an author you'd definitely hate, but she talked about a different article Spencer thinks you'd love, so he forwarded it to your email last night. He and Amanda went to Niagara Falls last weekend — here's a mug with a rainbow waterfall on the side because he noticed your old coffee mug has a chip in the lip.

You scratch down a phone number wrong three times in a row and feel your eyes closing of their own accord. He makes it hard to think.

"Hi, Miss Y/N."

You look up from your things to find Amanda waiting still as a post by your chair.

"Hi, beautiful," you say. You look over her shoulder for Spencer and find nothing but files and computers and the click-click-clicking of twenty computers. "Dad's in the bathroom, huh?"

"Mm-hm."

"You want me to drag his chair for you?"

She shakes her head and rushes back to Spencer's chair, pulling it with her back to your desk. She struggles up into the chair and you pull her in, her shiny black shoes rubbing against your knee.

"Sorry," she says.

"No, that's okay, you don't have anything to be sorry for. These are nice shoes, baby, I think your dad's been spoiling you again."

"He says they make me walk faster," she tells you, "'cos they have ergo-domic shapes."

"Oh wow! You look amazing, you always dress so smart." You smile at her gently. "You want some dried fruit? I have mango, pineapple and apricot. Or I have a normal orange with all the juice," you offer.

She nods. You have no clue what she's nodding for so you give her the dried fruits and the orange and smile to yourself when she says a breathy thank you. She can eat all your snacks. You'd offer your moon cake if you weren't worried about her being allowed. Fruit is a safe bet.

She sits happily eating fruit for a while. You try to poke some light conversation out of her, how's school and how's their pet fish Mr. Banana, and is it fun to be at work with dad today?

"Hi."

You bite your own tongue. Amanda doesn't acknowledge her father beyond her head dipping back in wait of his hand. Sure enough, he reaches over the back of the chair and strokes her baby blonde curls, brown towards the ends. You imagine they'll be the same warm brown as his when she's older.

"Hey, Spencer," you say, crossing your hands over your tummy.

"Is everything okay?"

"Yeah. Why wouldn't it be?"

You're lying. He's a profiler. You both know both of those facts.

He squints at you playfully. "You should tell me if something's wrong."

"Dad," Amanda interrupts, "we have to… have to give people space." She offers him the dried fruit bag. "To tell us in their own time."

Despite the clumsy, adorable way that she says it, she has a point. Spencer bites back a smile, properly chastised, and takes the bag.

"What is this?" he asks.

"Sorry," you jump in, "I should've asked you first, I just didn't," —you lower your voice— "really know what to do. I'm not bad with kids. I'm, uh, not good with them, either, maybe."

"You're great with kids," he says. "Having a baby is complicated, but taking care of them once they get to Manda's age is easier. She just needs love and patience and regular feeding. You're one of the most loving people I know, and your patience is appropriate. And, you know." He passes back your bag of dried fruit. "You always have snacks in your desk."

His easy compliments warm your face. You cover your cheeks with your sleeves.

"Dad, you made her happy," Amanda says, pleased.

Spencer laughs and the sound lights you up from the inside out, reaching over the chair to lift Amanda into his arms. He pushes his hand into the small of her back and straightens out the skirt of her red dress. If you'd been paying attention, you'd notice the slight pink tint of a blush working over his ears and cheeks.

"Aw, Mands," he murmurs, "we really have to work on your context clues."

#spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds #dad!spencer reid

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damiansgoodgirll · 5 months

Note

Can you please make reader where she’s going home from a friend and she has to walk to get home, but someone follows her and she immediately calls her boyfriend Damian and he goes into protective mode please?

damian priest x reader

‼️ unwanted attention and stalking, a little angst but not much

guardian angel

you felt something was off the moment you left your best friend’s house.

you just spent a very nice and peaceful evening, eating pizzas, drinking wine and talking about the latest news and gossip, knowing that damian was chilling at home waiting for you. you knew how hard he’s been working so you wanted him to enjoy some time alone too to cool off and relax a little.

he texted you that he trained a little and while he was waiting for you to come back home, he decided to watch a movie, something calm and funny to keep his mind going.

so you left your best friend’s home relaxed, knowing that everything was good. you usually drive anywhere but it was a cool night, it wasn’t too cold, the weather was good and you always enjoyed a nice walk. plus it was only twenty minutes away from your apartment so it wasn’t anything new to you.

you’ve been walking for just a few minutes and the unsettling feeling you had inside wasn’t leaving you. you slowly turned your head and you saw a black car driving slowly, almost like following your steps.

you thought it wasn’t anything to worry about, maybe someone was looking for a specific house but when you turned right, taking the road to your house, you saw the car turning with you, anxiety started bottling up inside you.

you walked faster, trying to get home as fast as you could but you knew that if something happened, you could have never beaten a car. you were walking fast but still to slow if the car had to start something.

you couldn’t even see who was driving, it was too dark outside and you just wanted to think straight and not lose your mind.

you walked faster again, almost as if you were running when suddenly you heard someone talking inside the car.

your worst nightmare was coming true.

there wasn’t just one person inside the car. there were two.

the second guy in the passenger seat started calling you, trying to get your attention.

“hey beautiful…” he screamed.

you ignored him and walked faster but that didn’t make him stop. he continued for a few minutes and eventually he stopped when he saw that you weren’t reacting.

your hands were shaking but you knew you had to call for help. you really wanted to call 911 but when you unlocked your phone, the first person that came to your mind was damian. so you called him.

“hermosa…enjoying your night?” he answered, happy that you called him.

“dam…” you voice cracking a little.

“hey hey what’s going on? where are you? are you okay?” he immediately worried when he heard your voice.

“uhm…i’ve left alice house ten minutes ago, i’m on my way home but there’s a car…and it keeps following me…dam there are two man driving and they wouldn’t leave me alone…i’m only ten minutes away from home but - dam i’m terrified…what if i don’t make it home?” you really didn’t want to cry at the phone, you didn’t want to break down, not when you needed to be lucid.

“don’t say that mi amor. don’t ever say that…i’m coming to get you…i’m taking your car keys…i’ll be there in just a few minutes” he said and you could hear him getting ready to come get you. you heard him leaving your apartment and getting in your car. you also heard him speeding down the streets.

“dam can you please stay on the phone with me?” you asked him, slightly shaking.

“of course baby…tell me exactly where are you now…i’m on the main street, where are you baby?” he asked you.

“uhm…i’ve just passed the park…you know, the one where i’ve lost my wallet in?” you slightly smiled at the memory but regained compose when you heard the car yanking at you “dam…please hurry up” you almost cried at the phone.

“i’m driving as fast as possible hermosa…just a few wand you’ll see me. i’ve just passed joe’s restaurant, you should be able to see me in a minute, i’m driving your car…in the meantime stay here with me, talk to me…did you have fun tonight?” he asked you softly, trying to help you distracting.

“uhm…yes, it was a lovely night” you said smiling softly.

“good, that’s good…what did you eat?”

“we had pizza…and wine, but not to much, otherwise i wouldn’t be able to sleep” you said.

“exactly…but honestly i wouldn’t mind staying up all night with you…maybe without the vomit part” he said laughing and you laughed as well.

“we also talked a lot…and i talked about you too…”

“really? what did you say?” he acted surprised but not that much, knowing that you always gossip about your relationship.

“well…i talked about - wait, damian i see you…i see the car at the crossroad…”

“i see you too princesa. keep walking towards my car. i won’t move…is a black suv the one that’s following you?” he asked seeing the car slowly moving with you.

“yes and there are two men…” you whispered the last part.

“i’m taking down the license plate of the car…we’re going at the police tomorrow, now, there are no cars around, can you walk a little faster and in the meantime turn right? i’ll turn with you and you’ll be able to jump in okay? can you do that for me?” he asked, seeing how terrified you looked.

“uhm…i think so…yeah” you said.

“okay…go…” he whispered and you both hung up. it took him only two seconds and when you turned right you saw him doing the same, you almost ran inside the car when you saw him and immediately crashed into his arms.

“hey hey look at me baby…you’re okay…you’re okay beautiful, breathe with me…” he didn’t care if he stopped in the middle of the road. there were no cars in sight and all he wanted to do was to make sure that you were okay.

he held you while you cried. he saw how scared you were and the way you kept shaking.

his lips gently touched your skin. your cheeks first and then your forehead. his thumb slowly wiping away your tears.

“mirame…estas bien mi amor…” he whispered, holding you in his arms “you’re okay…i’m glad you’re safe, i’ve got you”

“i was so scared damian…they followed me since i’ve left alice’s home…what if - if something happened?” you were still shaken and damian felt that too.

“shh…shh baby, nothing happened. i’m so glad you’re here with me now, you’re safe and i promise you we’re going to the police tomorrow…” he promised you.

“okay…but right now i just wanna go home please” you whispered.

“we’re going home baby…” he said while he started driving.

the black car turned left when they saw you with damian, probably scared about the consequences.

damian spent the whole night taking care of you. from helping you calm down and making you a cup of tea to helping you with your skincare and changing you into your pj. he hated seeing you like that, he hated thinking that someone would even think of hurting you. he hated seeing you crying and scared and all he wanted to do was to protect you but he couldn’t.

he was just happy that now you were safe into his arms.

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zangtang · 6 months

Text

Everything can change at any point!

Create images here: https://www.bing.com/images/create?FORM=GENILP before i say anything else though: not following someone else's prompts means you'll likely find some wild and unexpected things yourself. If you follow my prompts like they're laws, you will only ever get results like mine. There are people doing much cooler, weirder things. Don't get restricted by this.

the site was VERY BROKEN for the last 6 days, you haven't been banned. You get 15 boosts a day which usually override any current downtime, but the popup thinks you get 25 a week, which is an indicator of how busted and poorly planned they were for this flood of users. It's not too hard to create illegal results, and there's millions of users, so it's very unlikely a human is ever looking at your results. Unless you're doing really spectacularly terrible things, of course. If you get the warning as soon as you enter your prompt, change the most controversial aspects of your prompt immediately, as repeats of this will get you suspended for increasingly long times. It is possible to make alt accounts with throwaway emails though. It's unconfirmed but it appears that US residents get priority access during US times, and UK residents can only reliably make things from 7am to 1pm for example. Weekend access is a crapshoot. I don't personally pay for ChatGPT so I can't say anything about the alleged priority access you get there, but even that can be slow and restricted during the worst times (I assume this will the their priority to fix though). There are many conflicting reports about whether it's more censored or not. Reports is a very fancy way of saying reddit comments.

Everything I superstitiously guess about prompts:

you can be very descriptive and write in natural english, or you can be very brief. both methods work, I suspect both versions do different things. repetition and restating the same thing in other ways also seems to emphasise (possibly.) Prompts can be quite chaotic and contradictory - you can describe a lot of things happening and it may surprise you, so have fun with weirdness! some words are "heavy" against the automated filters, and can be safe in one prompt and unsafe in another. think of it like buckaroo, the AI is trying to find meaning in your prompt and it will sometimes combine things and get mad about it. be aware of politics and words that may be used in erotic senses, and switch those up.

this is the format I use the most because i am super lazy and unimaginative. items in [ ] are optional and can be anything, and I don't know how the word order matters - in old Midjourney it mattered quite a bit according to guides, but now they're all pushing to parse natural english I'm not so sure:

[number of] [body type] [age] [nationality] [male noun or job] wearing [clothes], with a [size, shape] belly, [hair description], [pose], [location, time of day, weather, lighting, era], [facial expression or attitude], [actions]

The number of guys can be vague like "several." Also placing a number here will generally result in all men being fat. To add a second, very different person (even women! imagine the power), simply describe that in plain english later in the prompt. Try adding "with friends" or something and seeing what happens.

Mentioning body type is separate from mentioning that he has a large stomach because "fat man" alone doesn't make him very fat. also, the body type prompt will dictate his physical build underneath the belly - this allows you to make mpreg very easily, for example. Mentioning his belly separately also seems to be a key part in making clothes not cover it up. However, DallE has clearly gotten much better at this for some clothes, but not all of them. Formalwear is improving, though tactical vests no longer do the cute thing they used to do, and football shirts still ride up reliably. Nationality can be weird, and you can use it to exploit stereotypes, or it can be an eye-opening view of stereotypes from countries you barely know about - want to know what differentiates an Angolan man from a Kenyan man? Probably don't trust AI results! I suspect some countries are controversial due to current politics, and I suspect some are controversial due to fetishy stereotyping. However, if for example "English man" got censored, consider going for capital cities or famous regions, eg "London man." Maybe look up sports teams from that country. I'm a big fan of the "Italian-American" prompt but lately it's gotten quite a few results blocked, so I'd switch to "New Jersey," maybe even "New Jersey Italian."

"Handsome" may slim your results down, or even break the prompt entirely. Consider making your men footballers or rugby players, mention trendy haircuts, or using out of date synonyms to get round it. AI isn't all that likely to give you especially ugly results anyway, particularly if you specify ages under 40. It doesn't get the hair precisely right, but even a generic prompt like "short thick hair" can help. Giving your character a job may dictate what he'll wear, but you might want to specify what clothes you want anyway. Don't mention either if you hope he'll turn out naked. Certain jobs are tricky to use, as AI strains to be as unpolitical as possible - it doesn't want you doing politicians and it sometimes seems to refuse anything that might make the police or military look bad. However, it will accept "wearing a [colour] uniform/pilot shirt" very happily, because it's duuuuumb.

Mention trousers, footwear or even just feet if your results keep zooming in too much. (It'll also zoom in if you mention too much about his face, I think.) Side view appears to make certain prompts fatter, but will often mean he's looking away - you can add "Looking at camera" if you want that. Metallic and plastic clothes can have very fun and weird results, especially if you change the location to a night setting in the rain. Gladiator costumes will reduce his clothes to a few leather straps.

"Flex pose" and "strong pose" will get butch bodybuilder poses (it will also buff up the muscle mass) and "battling strong winds" gets very superhero poses. At least when I was trying these out, I found I couldn't actually get proper bodybuilder poses or mention of superheroes past the censor, but it's been a few weeks so who knows what it's up to now. Give them all a go!

Casual poses and actions can liven things up a little if you just want portraits but don't want it to repeatedly be the same thing facing you directly. Getting out of a car, climbing stairs, leaning against things, adjusting his clothes or putting on a coat, all these kinds of things work. Smoking or drinking does quite a lot. "Tired" or "Exhausted" changes his attitude a lot too, your leans get leaned into more.

Contact words can be a little difficult, so consider ways to exploit using soft contact, or be very wordy and detailed about it so it's not misinterpreting you. "Patting him on the back" is a fairly safe phrase, but DallE isn't intelligent, so it will allow the contact but it will struggle to be precise, especially when the bodies are fat or not positioned in a way they can reach the back - the result of this is that there will be a lot of belly pats. Prodding in the stomach, pointing at the stomach, these both work, but I think DallE is vague about stomach=torso and you may want "pointing at his belt" to give a lower focus. Admiring can direct attention and vibes, whispering will draw their heads closer and make them interact somewhat. Embracing and hugging work but is very heavy for the censor, "hugging on his shoulder/belly" seems safer for some reason. Shaking, grabbing, "examining/concerned about his belly" can work. Bizarrely, squeezing past another man in a narrow corridor/doorway/cupboard works if you want a LOT of contact. And if you want unpredictable contact, fighting can work.

For more dynamic safe contact, try sporting actions. Baseball slides, football tackles, that kind of thing. It's hard to get them to lie flat and the AI seems to resist allowing heads to touch the ground, but "lying in a hammock" works pretty well, and sometimes specifying what the head is touching works. pretty much every minor prompt variation and scenario I've ever used:

"falling onto a broken chair/breaking an object with his weight" "washing windows" "with waiters helping him up" "with friends bringing him food" "falling over another man" "outside of a skyscraper washing windows, harness for safety, hoisted" "hyper-obese man wearing denim dungarees with an enormous inflated belly, drinking from a hose" ("blowing into a hose" gets better expressions for that IMO) "stuck in a broken narrow red british phonebooth with another man, bursting out with his enormous belly, black trousers" "bent over eating at a pie eating contest wearing a dirty white tank top with an enormous round belly and his face hidden buried in messy pie" "sitting on a throne next to a very fat 35 year old spanish monarch" "lying on his back the floor, enjoying a banquet, side view, tired expression" "very fat 35 year old handsome british man wearing tracksuit and gold chain with a hugely distended beerbelly, man with a massive round stomach, washing his car in a carpark at night side view" "at water park, stuck in a water slide" "before and after weightloss picture, in the left he is X and in the right he is Y" "with a large round belly spilled over eating at a banquet with an enormous round belly, bronzed, with waiters helping him up/being prodded with a fork" "washing dishes and leaning over his belly on a freestanding enamel pedestal basin" "climbing and leaning against a stepladder to change a lightbulb on the ceiling [with friend holding the stepladder steady]" "side view, photo of two 40 year old beefy handsome fat italian-american rugby player with a hugely distended round belly, resting hand on his chest, wearing a tracksuit with a gigantic round sagging stomach, gold chain, raining, whispering in a car park at night, leaning/hugging on shoulder, tired, stern expression looking at camera, smoking a cigarette" "side view photo of two strong 40 year old handsome samoan rugby player with a hugely distended round beerbelly, chest hair, wearing a white formal shirt and black suit, hugging on his belly, proud expectant father, boyfriends outside a busy pub at night, stern, looking at camera, raining" "two fat los angeles rams handsome footballers wearing white pilot shirt and plain tie and black trousers pushing through a narrow saloon door with their enormously distended beerbellies, stern" "photo of very fat 30 year old hunk rugby player with enormously distended belly, carrying his belly in a wheelbarrow" "very fat 35 year old man wearing white pilot shirt with an enormous round belly, tough man with a very large beerbelly, too fat for small broken airplane seat sitting on another man, fat belly spilling over armrest and pressing against over man, black trousers, slightly concerned, suave" "being carried on the back of a flatbed truck" can turn them into horrific lardvalanches but you don't get much control over it

original characters do not steal prompts: "30 year old man who looks like he's the main character from the game Uncharted with an enormous distended round beerbelly, with one hand on a bar in a pub, nathan" This is sometimes surprisingly effective, but most often it'll simply draw vibes from the IP mentioned, so you can use it to get specific settings at least

Try spelling the names wrong or reversing the name order - sometimes it'll even accept names sprinkled throughout the prompt. Repeating the name may increase its effect (it might also not!) Also it's speculated that placing the celebrity fraud in a place or situation they would normally be found in helps. That said, I could only get a Robert Downey Jr if I made him dress as a gladiator. So maybe weirdness and ingenuity are your strengths. see also https://www.tumblr.com/baron-bear/731903035856584704/what-do-you-use-for-your-ai-stuff

#fat ai #fat ai man

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omegalomania · 1 year

Text

i think what i admire most about this record after sitting with it for a full day is the marriage of its musicality and its lyricism.

lyrically..."nihilistic" is a really good way of putting it. i was honestly kind of floored by how goddamn bleak so much of the lyricism on this record is. there's so much desolation, so much hopelessness, so much struggling to find meaning in meaninglessness. lyrically, i think this might be some of pete's darkest but also some of his best work. there's so much grappling with the feeling that maybe it's all pointless. maybe none of it fucking gets better. maybe you're always going to be fighting to figure out some kind of sense and feeling displaced and the further you look toward the horizon, the more the inevitability of the end scares the living shit out of you.

so much (for) stardust is utterly desolate lyrically. even little granules of hope feel tongue-in-cheek or in denial. so...what? does anything ever get better? are we all just flailing around, trying to make our stupid lives make sense? but at the same time, fall out boy are the happiest they've ever been as a band. they waited five years so they could savor making this record and they were genuinely excited to share it with all of us. pete is wearing skirts and letting his hair down and they're playing songs that once got them booed off stage with fearless love in their eyes and they're looking after each others' mental health and supporting one another through it all. what does it mean for a band to release something this somber at this point in time for them?

the "reality bites" pink seashell speech sums it all up kind of perfectly. so maybe life is inherently meaningless, but at the same time...there's good food. there's beautiful weather. there are still good movies, and the sound of rain on the windows, and hope, and friendship, and joy. maybe there's no point. but that doesn't change that there's still laughter. there's still love.

and that's what's in the sound of this record. the big, cinematic swell of an orchestra. the upbeat chirps of a synth. the screeching of a guitar and some bouncy, catchy goddamn riffs that'll live under your skin for days. this is a record you dance to and cry to. (cry a little, cry a lot, but don't stop dancing, don't dare stop.) sonically, this is a record laden with grit and delight and a powerful sense of purpose, from catchy pop hooks to roaring, cinematic anthems. it sits in delicious contrast to the words but it doesn't undermine them. it complements them. happy music for sad people.

of course there's pain, and there's frustration, and the world is full of tragedy and hopelessness and maybe the worst part of it is that it doesn't go away once you grow up. as you get older, you don't ever magically learn how everything clicks together. you just have to fumble through it and hope for the best, even if it feels like it never gets any easier.

it's a hard lesson to learn. but you aren't alone in it. so what fates do we share? we're all stardust. we all share the same end. we are not alone in our fears and uncertainties and we will not be alone at the end either, not really. we came from stardust and to stardust we will return.

i think if there is a hope i can take away from this record it's like...this feeling that it doesn't get better, really. but you do get better at living with it, and to someone like me, that's vital. years ago i had to come to terms with the valuable, painful lesson that i will not, mentally, neurologically, ever get "better." there will never be a point where i am "cured" of all that i must live with. but i've grown better at living with it. and there are things out there that i'm living for anyway - good food, better friends, and maybe a long-anticipated record you need to put on replay for a good long while as you soak it in.

maybe none of this matters, in the end. but if it doesn't, then this is what matters. this.

"if nothing we do matters, then all that matters is what we do."

#fall out boy #so much (for) stardust #*making poasts #*meta #expanding on some thoughts i was going on abt in the gc earlier #this is pretty freeform and it doesnt sum it all up for me but i tried my best #im allowed a little bit of sincerity from time to time #that parting quote is from angel the series. which is a show i have mixed feelings on but its an important quote to me so

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lyn-1225 · 1 year

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Tough days

Pairing: Carl Gallagher x fem!reader

Warnings: fluff, depression, self harm, anxiety (a little bit), blood, panic attack, sexual reference. I think that’s about it.

Word count: 2000-3000

A/n: I’ve been absolutely obsessed with shameless lately and Carl is my favorite by far. Of course I had to stay up till 2 AM to write this. I’m currently working on a request sent but if you have a request please don’t hesitate to let me know :) enjoy my bad writing.

⚠️ if you are sensitive to topics of mental health please don’t read this. Your safety and mental health is a top priority. ⚠️

This gif of Carl makes me want to scream 😆

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Your POV:

It was known that life wasn’t fair.

It never was and it never would be.

It seemed like I could never catch a break.

Once life actually seemed good, something would come and fuck it up.

This time depression decided to fuck it up.

I’ve always suffered with it, but this time it was different. It was always manageable and short before but now, it was longer and harder to deal with.

The overwhelming fear that I wasn’t good enough and that everyone around me hated me was way stronger than it’s ever been.

Normally reading, writing, painting, or listening to music would help but I was too in my head this time.

I couldn’t get out.

Thought after thought filled my head as I held the small cold razor in my right hand.

It wasn’t the first time unfortunately.

It was some sort of relief. At the time that is.

Small droplets of blood run down my left forearm, the pain allowing for a small relief that I’ve been needing.

That relief is short lived when the thoughts come swarming back to my head.

Oh no not again.

No matter how hard I tried, I just couldn’t manage to get rid of the nasty thoughts.

Just one more.

One turned into two which then turned into three.

At that point I gave up. Not on life but on that form of relief.

It was only harming me not helping me.

I stand up from the toilet seat washing off the razor and my arm being careful of the fresh cuts.

The sting makes me wince as the water runs over my skin.

I turn the water off heading back to my room to change and hide the razor.

Spotting a grey long sleeve shirt I swap it out for my current t- shirt. Finding a pair of black, pink sweatpants I put them on taking my shorts off beforehand.

The heat from the shirt and pants envelops me making me feel happy.

I was no longer cold due to the weather that somehow only happens at night around here.

Lately things at home haven’t been the best. My parents are almost never home anymore. They never really cared about me in the first place.

I pick up my phone checking the time that shows up in big font.

11:43 PM.

My mind still runs as I check my recent notifications hoping and praying that Carl texted.

He didn’t.

Carl and I have been best friends for years. We met in school of course.

To be honest I have no idea why he wanted to be friends with me. I’m the complete opposite of him.

He doesn’t seem to care though.

Yes he does he thinks you’re annoying that mean voice in my head sneers.

That’s not true.. right?

Those thoughts plague my mind sending me into a whirlwind of emotions. How pathetic am I to be easily persuaded by a single thought in my head?

The panic in my chest starts to rise signaling the worst thing that could be happening right now.

Fuck.

Immediately I find Carl’s contact, pressing the call button.

Placing the phone to my ear with a shaky hand, I try to take deep breaths.

After the fourth ring he picks up.

“Hello?” He says in a groggy voice.

Shit. I woke him up.

“Hi um” I start before stopping my sentence as I feel a lump form in my throat.

“Hey you okay?” Carl asks on the other side picking up on my hesitation.

“I um. I-is it okay if I um. Come over” I stutter pinching my eyes together trying not to break down.

“Yeah of course, I’ll wait for you outside” he says, shuffling being heard from his side of the phone.

“T-thank you” I say starting to head for my front door.

“I’ll be here” he reassures before hanging up.

I place my phone in my pocket opening the front door. Shutting the door behind me I start for the Gallagher house.

It’s probably a good thing I live a few houses down from him.

The dark cold outside fills around me. The cold somehow creeping through my warm clothes.

Walking fast down the sidewalk, the panic in my chest starts to worsen making my head fog up and my heart rate pick up.

Carls figure appears a few houses away. His body sitting on the steps to his house as he looks out at the road the street light illuminating his face just the right way.

Without even realizing it my pace quickens hoping that I wouldn’t start breaking down in the middle of the neighborhood.

As I get closer and closer the tightness in my lungs starts making it harder for me to breathe.

Shit.

Tears sting my eyes when I reach his calm yet slightly worried appearance.

He immediately gets up noticing me standing in front of him.

Without a word he leads me up the stairs and into his warm and cozy home.

Home.

This felt like home.

The tears in my eyes start to fall as the panic attack starts to take control. Normally I’d be able to stop an upcoming attack before it starts but this one was way to strong.

“Shit y/n” Carl whispers shocked at my sudden emotions. He quickly pulls my body towards the couch as tears run down my cheeks.

It was embarrassing to have him see me like this. Even though we’ve been friends for years, I’ve never been the type to express my feelings openly. I’ve never cried in front of him before.

There’s a first for everything right?

He holds my face in his hands, worry lacing over his beautiful features.

Sobs rack through my body as it gets harder and harder to breathe.

“I can’t b-breathe” I hiccup placing a shaky hand on my rapidly beating heart.

Fear starts to push into my mind.

Not the typical fears.

The tightness in my chest and the lack of air going into my lungs was starting to scare me.

Was I dying?

“Look at me” Carl says trying to get my focus on him. His hand taps my leg enough to get my attention but not enough to scare me.

Everything around me starts to spin making it extremely difficult to focus.

“Y/n look at me” he tries again this time moving my head in his direction griping my chin slightly.

My eyes lock with his, my entire body feeling like it’s gonna give out any second. “Follow my breathing” he says moving my hands to his stomach so that I could feel the rhythm of his breathing.

The rise and fall of his stomach underneath my hands calms me the slightest bit. It’s not enough to stop my internal and external freak out though.

He takes a few deep breaths keeping his hands on mine. His eyes hold contact with mine the entire time. Not in a creepy way of course but more in a concerned way.

Inhale

Exhale

I try to do what he’s doing, failing a few times.

Inhale

Exhale

My heart beats a mile per minute, my mind still racing.

Inhale

Exhale

My breathing starts to get better as I follow his lead.

Inhale

Exhale

I open my eyes for what felt like the first time. No more cloudy eyes filled with tears.

Inhale

Exhale

My heart beat starts to slow down the more I match my breathing.

Inhale

Exhale

The panic attack comes to a slow close, my body feeling drained of any stamina it originally had.

That was the worst panic attack I’ve ever had.

“Good” Carl comments making it known to me that he’s relieved that I’m no longer freaking out. Squeezing my hands in his slowly taking them away from his stomach he gives me a small yet sad smile.

I could tell he wanted to ask me about it but I know he didn’t want to push. Considering the fact that this was the first time I’ve cried in front of him, he was smart enough to know that I wouldn’t immediately talk about it.

My mind starts to clear giving me that much needed silence in my head. The silence I only seem to get with him.

I bow my head a few stray tears falling from my eyes.

“I’m sorry” I whisper, the embarrassment starting to show through.

Everything I’ve bottled up has presented itself to the one person I didn’t think would be there to see it.

“Hey, hey” he says lifting my head wiping the tears from my face.

“Don’t ever be sorry for something you can’t control” he frowned looking into my slightly glossy eyes.

His green eyes stare deeply into mine with an emotion I didn’t quite know. His face shows so many emotions that tell me exactly how he feels about the situation. He seems more shocked and worried than anything.

I nod my head silently saying okay even though I was gonna continue saying sorry even in times where I did nothing wrong. That’s just me though.

After a few seconds of us sitting in silence, he reaches over to the coffee table grabbing the remote before turning the tv on. He slightly lays down urging me to lay down as well.

Grateful that he decided to leave it, I lean down next to him making sure I don’t get in his way.

“Want to watch something specific?” He asks turning to me pointing the remote towards me.

“Um. I don’t know” I answer looking down at my arms. My left sleeve had risen to the point where the fresh cuts underneath where showing. I pull my sleeve further down my arm quickly enough to make sure Carl didn’t see.

I was to busy worrying about my sleeve that I didn’t notice the fact that Carl was starting at me the entire time. With him staring at me meant him also starting at my exposed arm.

I didn’t pull my sleeve down fast enough.

He saw my arm before I could even blink.

His expression changed when I turned back towards him. This time he was more sad and discouraged.

“Oh y/n/n” he sighed leaning up so that he was closer to me.

He takes my arms in his hands slowly lifting both my sleeves up.

The right arm only had a few scattered scars from a while ago, but the fresh cuts on my left arm show in full display, a few of them still slightly bleeding.

He runs the tips of his middle and pointer finger around the cuts focusing on the sight in front of him. The small action causes goosebumps to rise on my arms.

“Why?” He questions lightly going over the cuts now. He was hesitant when asking one of the questions that I’ve been dreading since my depression started.

I’ve been hiding my emotions and my thoughts for so long that everything that should be let out is bottling up in my mind.

I trusted Carl with everything in me. I’ve always been scared to share my thoughts in fear that no one would care or they’d say that I’m an attention seeker. All of this comes from past trauma that has kicked my ass in the past and still does now.

It was time for me to tell him. He’s come to me in the worst times of his life crying at my shoulder. It was time to allow myself to do the same.

“I needed a release” I start, clearing the silence in the air.

He looks up at me a mixture of surprise and sadness knowing that I was about to open up about everything going on.

“My mind won’t shut up. I have these overwhelming fears that everyone around me hates me. That you find me annoying. That I’m not good enough” I explain looking at him for his reaction.

“There’s a lot more shit that I still need to talk about but I think for right now this is a good start” I say showing a tight lipped smile.

His eyes soften at my explanation.

“I don’t find you annoying at all. You are the only person I like talking to other than my family” he says moving his hands back down to mine.

“Truth is. I’ve had a crush on you since we met. I just never had the guts to admit it” he says rubbing small circles into my hands.

Relief and delight fills my body at his sudden confession. Relief that he wasn’t judging me for my thoughts and delight because the crush I’ve had on him for years was reciprocated.

I smile at him squeezing his hand “I’ve had a crush on you too.”

A smile graces his face now at my confession. He wraps his arms around my upper body pulling me towards his chest.

I feel myself melt at his touch as the sensation of calm runs through my veins.

I wrap my arms around his neck, my head finding it way to his chest. Our heartbeats quickens a bit at the interaction.

He kisses the top of my head making sure that I know he’s sincere about his confession before pulling back from the embrace.

“Let’s get you cleaned up” he says standing up from the couch. He reaches his hand out to me wanting me to take it.

“Okay” I smile taking his hand, standing up with a little bit of his help.

My body is still shaky which means my legs feel like jelly underneath me. Exhaustion still evident within me.

He leads me to the kitchen taking his hand out from mine when we reach the counter top and the sink.

I clear a spot on the counter before I hop up on it, waving my legs back and forth like a child.

He grabs a cup filling it with water handing it to me.

“Drink this” he demands handing me the cup while trying to sound stern even though he’s gone soft for me.

“Don’t go acting all mean on me now” I chuckle taking a sip of the cool water.

“I’ll be back” he laughs shaking his head at my statement. He walks up the stairs and out of my sight leaving me to sit with my almost clear mind.

I take a few more sips of my drink as I wait for him to get back.

A few minutes later he walks back down the stairs holding a first aid kit.

“Sorry I took so long, I couldn’t find it at first. There’s so much shit in this house that everything I see is lost the next day” he snickers examining the box in his hands.

I laugh as he sets it on the counter to the left of my body. He opens the box searching through the contents to find the things he needed.

He grabs some ointment and some alcohol spray, placing them off to the side. He then grabs bandage wrap placing that to the side as well.

Walking over to the laundry he picks out a dish rag walking it back over to the sink. He runs the water over half the rag making sure that that water is rung out.

“Ready?” He asks moving to my left side.

“Your not doing surgery on me right?” I ask trying my best to sound concerned for my safety.

I laugh a little to try and lighten the mood considering the circumstances i got him involved in.

He laughs as well placing the cold wet rag on my forearm. Focusing on what he’s doing he gently runs the rag along my arm making sure to clean up any blood or dirt that has built up around the cuts.

The more he looks at it the more I can tell it’s starting to affect him. His once smiley face turned serious as time went on.

“Promise me you won’t do this again” he pleads taking his eyes off my arm. He looks up at me with pleading eyes.

“I promise” I say giving him a genuine reassuring look that both me and him need.

It’s hard to make a promise that you don’t know if you’ll keep, but I know that if I do break the promise he would understand. Of course I’m gonna do everything in my power to never do this again.

His eyes light up at my promise making him smile. Seeing him happy about my promise makes me even more determined to not break it.

Using the dry side of the rag he dries up my arm, placing the rag into the sink for someone else in the house to take care of it.

He grabs the spray from off the counter uncapping it and pointing it towards my arm.

“This is gonna sting” he says spraying it onto the fresh cuts. The stinging sensation flows through my arm making me wince slightly.

It wasn’t the worst pain in the world but you could definitely feel it.

He quickly finished up with the spray giving me a sympathetic look as he caps the spray and puts it back onto the counter.

He looks back down at my arm grabbing the ointment unscrewing the lid.

He applies small amounts on my arm before rubbing it over the cuts with a gentle touch I never thought he’d have.

That alone makes my heart flutter.

I stare at him with loving eyes as he cleans his fingers off and grabs the bandage wrap. He starts to wrap my arm with the bandage making sure that it’s tight enough that It won’t fall off but not tight enough for it to cut off my circulation.

“There, all done” he smiles placing everything back into the kit shutting it closed.

I smile before looking down at my bandage wrapped arm. The white wrap goes around almost my entire forearm. The sight makes it look like I belong in a psych ward.

That thought makes me frown knowing what I did to myself.

I didn’t deserve that.

He didn’t deserve that.

“Hey” Carl says gaining my attention. I look up in his direction as he moves in between my legs.

“It’s okay” he says placing his hands on my hips. He looks at me with soft eyes.

The tears in my eyes start to fall down my face again. I quickly wipe them away trying to make it seem like I wasn’t just crying in front of him.

Carl takes my face in his hands rubbing my cheeks with each of his thumbs. “I don’t want you to ever feel like you can’t open up to me” he says keeping his eyes trained on mine.

“I know you don’t like talking about your feelings but it’s obvious whatever’s going on is hurting you. I don’t want you feeling hurt” he whispers the last part tears of his own starting to form.

“Carl please don’t cry” I say lifting my hands to his face so that I could wipe underneath his eyes. He moves his hands from my face down to my hips again lightly squeezing the fat that is there.

“Things at home haven’t been the greatest” I start about to tell my whole life story to him.

He stares at me intently urging me to continue my words as he rubs my hip bones with his thumbs.

“My parents were never around. I practically raised myself my entire life. Anytime they were home they would constantly yell at each other” I say looking at him then looking around the room.

“I’ve been dealing with depression and anxiety ever since I was 9 or 10” I confess. His eyebrows furrow at the age I said. That was a year or so before me and him met.

“It hasn’t been to bad to deal with. I can deal with it on my own, but this time it was worse” I bow my head feeling slightly ashamed at the fact that I couldn’t control it.

“I didn’t think I could go through this one alone so I came here” i finish as I look around the house. The safe proximity helping me feel okay.

I look back to him waiting to hear a response. He looks at me with big eyes and a small sad smile.

Out of nowhere he leans his head forward capturing my lips in a passionate and sweet kiss.

The kiss is soft and filled with the emotions running through his head.

My stomach explodes with butterflies, our lips move in sync with each other.

He keeps his hands on my hips this time squeezing them a little bit more than before.

A little out of breath we pull away our foreheads leaning against each other.

“Im so sorry if I gave you a reason to not trust me with everything you’ve gone through” he whispers to me touching his nose to mine.

“Carl” I start looking into his eyes. “Please don’t let yourself think that I don’t trust you. I trust you more than I trust anyone else in my life” I say.

“From now on I will talk to you anytime something happens. I won’t bottle things up anymore” I promise him taking my forehead away from his.

He smiles at me before wrapping his arms around my shoulders while mine wrap around his waist.

“You don’t know how long I’ve been wanting to kiss you” he chuckles resting his head on top of mine.

“Trust me. Me too” I smile leaning my head up to kiss the side of his jaw. He looks down at me a huge smile crossing his face.

“This definitely isn’t the right time but is it wrong for me to say that you kissing my jaw is a huge turn on” he says pulling away from our hug.

“Oh really” I smirk purposefully moving my hands to his waist so that I could pull him closer.

“Want me to prove it” he asks maneuvering his hands along my thighs dangerously close to where he wanted to be the most.

I would be lying if I said this wasn’t turning me on as well but instead of giving in I decided to be a tease.

“Nah I’m good thanks though” I say nonchalantly jumping down from the counter grabbing my glass that previously had water in it.

“You son of a bitch” Carl says looking at me as if I spit at him. Putting my glass under the faucet I turn it on filling the glass back up with water.

I point my left middle finger at him while I take a large sip of the water.

He looks at me in disbelief his eyes slightly wide.

I’ve never been like this before but I guess now I’m gonna show every part of me that he never knew.

“So that’s how you want to play huh?” He asks moving closer to me. He has a smug look on his face like he’s about to pounce at any moment.

“Don’t you dare” I say placing my glass down before backing away from him slowly.

He continues moving forward trapping me in the corner of the sink and the refrigerator.

Suddenly running towards me he picks me up making me squeal.

I wrap my legs around his waist while my arms wrap around his neck trying to make sure I don’t fall.

He laughs placing his hands around my back. He spins me around in a circle keeping a strong grip around me.

“I like this position” he comments earning a slap to the side of the head from me. “Stop it” I laugh wrapping my arms around his neck again.

He walks us to the living room lightly throwing me down onto the couch before landing on top of me.

He leans up to place a short kiss to my lips before turning the tv back on to a random channel.

He switches through a few channels before giving up. There wasn’t anything good on since it was practically the middle of the night.

It was some sort of animal channel but we didn’t care.

We only cared about each other.

He cuddled up to my chest pulling my sleeves back down my arms to my hands knowing it was annoying me.

I play with his hair as both of us start to loose touch of reality and start to blink back sleep.

Tonight’s actions run through my head one last time before I fall asleep with him cuddled up to me.

I hope every day includes special moments like what we had tonight.

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A/n: Every imagine I see they say Carl has blue eyes. When I looked it up on google it said that he had green eyes. So that’s what I went with. Hope you liked the imagine :) I had a great time writing it.

#carl gallagher #imagine #carl gallagher x reader #shameless #mental health #sh trigger warning #fluff

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creedslove · 5 months

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Oh, Mari, help! I need a living heater in the form of Joel. It's been damn cold in my country, it's 11 degrees (it was 27 a week ago). And my furnace broke down (so my radiators are cold) and the repair guy won't come until Saturday 😭

Also, this song gave me "Heartless" vibes today: Stephen Sanchez - Until I Found You

Post outbreak!Joel Miller x f!reader

A/N: aww baby, I know this ask is a few months old now but I hope things are alright for you! We are also dealing with drastic temperature change, I mean a week ago it was more than 30° but today the max temperature is like 17° so I could definitely use Joel to keep me warm too 😭🫦

• Winters during the outbreak are possibly one of the worst and most depressing things mankind had ever faced, lacking sources of heat, electricity and basic things such as warm clothes, decent blankets and hot water, surviving that weather became one of the many other things someone would need to survive in that world

• no matter if you lived in a QZ, or if you were on the run over the long abandoned roads, winter was hard and that was the time people usually drank the most in order to keep themselves warm and numb to how bad things were

• and even if everything was terrible, you were still so lucky you had Joel, because that man would do anything he could in order to protect you from any danger and of course, from the cold weather as well

• if we are talking about the time you live in the QZ, he would use his smuggling skills in order to offer you the best he can find: jackets, coats, sweaters, blankets, booze, anything really

• and of course you will both snuggle so close in bed, it's funny how Joel is the little spoon even if he's bigger, but he can switch positions whenever you need his body sheltering you

• fucking to keep warm is also a possibility you both really enjoy

• when you guys escape the QZ, he knows nights out in the open are also cold, even if it isn't the winter, and you can't take space in your backpack to carry big, thick blankets, so you will both have to handle sleeping bags

• Joel would always make sure to find shelter and start a fire, so you can spend some time as warm and cozy as possible and of course you would both cuddle so you wouldn't lose heat

• when you get to Jackson, you can barely believe there is such a place, where you can actually have lights on, warm baths and decent, comfortable beds

• while you are both in awe, after eating a proper meal for the first time in months, you decide to share a hot shower together; you could've done it separately, but you are doing it together, because you want to have feeling of running your hands through Joel's skin, the warm water pouring over the two of you, as you both soap and shampoo each other

• then, after changing into new, clean and warm clothes, you go to bed; now there's a heating system in the house that actually works, you won't have to feel that excruciating, painful cold wind that seems to reach your bones, but you will still both hold each other at night, as if your lives depended on it, because deep inside, you know it's not just to keep warm you slept like that

• Joel buries his face into the crook of your neck and pulls you closer, his hand holding your hips and stroking your skin up and down, he's able to sleep peacefully, knowing he can finally offer you the protection you need and that you'll be safe in his arms

____

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal x y/n #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal headcanon #pedro pascal headcanons #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fanfic #joel miller headcanon #joel miller headcanons

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hitlikehammers · 3 months

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nowhere without you

rating: t ♥️ cw: post-final battle, hurt/comfort ♥️ tags: established relationship, hurt/comfort, BIG emotions, even BIGGER love, as in: soul-deep love, softness; happy endings always ♥️

for @steddielovemonth day eight: Love is the heartbeat I can feel when I hug him

(also probably the humble love-soaked endlessly-devoted beginnings of the rockstar!husbands in je ne regrette rien)

The weirdest part is how, in the aftermath, Eddie doesn’t speak. Like, at all.

Scratch that: it’s the weirdest and the most concerning part. Eddie makes noise, mostly pained kinda moans that make Steve’s chest clench, ache more the admittedly-decently-deep wounds slowly—but reliably, like, consistently—stitching themselves together, and Steve begs him to get looked at again, because something has to be wrong to cause those kinds of sounds but Eddie doesn’t even shake his head, doesn’t really move at all save that sometimes he trembles, and it’s…

It fucking breaks Steve’s heart.

He’s almost gotten used to stroking Eddie’s hair in silence—so wrong; worthy Eddie that’s just so wrong—and working any tangles out so, much as it’s getting a limp and greasy with days of neglect, at least it’s smooth; but he’s almost resigned to this for the long haul because he’ll weather anything he has to for Eddie and they’ll work through this, whatever this is, they’ll worth through it together and—

“How did you stand you it?”

The sound is more a scratch than anything, glass on sandpaper, and it’s down to Eddie lying where he hasn’t left for the last four, going on five days—as in, not once while Steve’s been awake has he existed without Eddie’s weight situated just so against his chest, sinuous and deliberate in where he presses against, careful as a rule of Steve’s worst injuries and delicate about how he rests against Steve’s body, but not…hesitant.

More, kinda…kinda desperate.

So it’s down to him being pressed so close and sure and unwavering that Steve feels him speak more than anything, matches the motion of his lips against Steve’s gown to words rather than the wind, or something outside his door to the halls of the hospital beyond; it’s down to the tension in the whole of him, the all-too-present shaking that Steve matches the scrape of the question to a hurt that’s…that maybe Steve doesn’t wholly understand just yet, but that really and truly does cut him deeper and closer and more critical at the core of him than the Upside Down ever could have clawed in: Eddie lives in him, nothing else can really…ever hope to be deeper.

“How are you,” Eddie rolls gravel across more words, and Steve’s missed his voice so fucking much, he didn’t realize how much until it’s here again for him to hear and hold but, Jesus fuck, it’s like…it’s like it’s drowning; like Eddie is drowning and then his breath is hitching, and oh, god, that voice is cracking around the edge of a sob, watery and wavering as he damn-near close to begs:

“How did you survive it?”

Steve feels it clench in his ribs, because he thinks he…he thinks he’s putting it together. The strain, the agony in that voice, that voice he loves so fucking much, from this man he loves with everything, but then—the way Eddie presses into him. The force, and the position, and the pattern. The way he’s been quiet, unfailing, but never…never seems distant, seems the opposite: seems focused; intent. The way Dustin had come in and caught him upon the things he’d missed in one of the almost-nonexistent windows where Eddie sleeps, hand lines alongside his sternum and head curled in the most uncomfortable pretzel Steve can imagine, forehead all scrunched and eyes squeezed shut so goddamn hard, looking like any sleep he manages is nothing close to rest by any measure: but Dustin had came in and told him Eddie was the first to him; Eddie ran faster than he’d seen a person run; Eddie’d looked devastated, broken when they’d caught up, and they’d been so afraid, feared the worst, and—

Steve’s starting to fit the pieces together. Maybe.

“No,” Eddie whines, pitchy and fervent and almost ear-splitting, like a wail of sheer gut-wrenching pain that Steve can’t find the reason for in the here and now because it’s just them in a hospital room, they’re okay, and his hand presses heavy, gentle around his wounds still, always gentle and so, so careful and Steve doesn’t know what’s caused the reaction, but then—

Then he can feel his fucking heartbeat for how hard Eddie’s pressing. It’s weird, how it makes him feel…strangely alive, the sensation of it kept and held like that, specifically in Eddie’s hand. And he’s not paying attention to the monitors really, tuned them out as quick as he could but when he listens, okay. Okay, maybe faster than normal, but Steve’s fucking worried, okay, he’s—

“Fuck, no,” Eddie moans and twists his head, no, not just his head, his ear and leans harder into Steve’s chest, his breathing shallow and Steve hates it but he doesn’t know what to do, how to help, what to fix because he’ll fix it if he knows, he’ll climb out of this bed and crawl on the goddamn floors of he has to, but he doesn’t know where to go, what to find, what demon’s left to slay—

“I’m just, I’m grateful you did,” survive, Steve survived…

He survived, like, now?

“But grateful’s such a weak word, it doesn’t,” and Steve takes a breath, and reaches, rests his hand on Eddie’s wrist just to see: his heartbeat’s somuch faster, it’s like a flutter of a flutter felt strong enough to break through skin, it catches in Steve’s heart just to touch—

“You’re so much stronger than I could ever, like,” Eddie’s going on, still breathless and fuck, Steve can see why; “fucking hope to be.”

Shit, but that’s…he wasn’t stronger, fuck, Steve wasn’t stronger than Eddie, Eddie nearly got eaten alive, Steve nearly couldn’t staunch enough of the bleeding, he almost lost—

Eddie keens, horrible and hurting and Steve stills: the monitor. The thundering of his own pulse at the memory.

How did you survive it?

Losing. Almost losing. That’s…that’s what it is.

That’s why Eddie’s pressed against his chest, his his head and his hand have been a fucking frame, goddamn, like, parentheses surrounding Steve’s beating heart, proof of life, Jesus—

“But I need to be,” Eddie’s voice is quiet, but steadier, and his chin dips like a nod to himself; “I need to learn how,” he’s firm with it; “for you.”

Oh, god. Oh…oh Eddie.

“I can’t ever lose you, Steve,” Eddie presses trembling lips to Steve’s chest and then presses close again, so close and oh: he wasn’t just intent where he’s been silent so long.

He was listening.

“Never ever,” he breathes against Steve, hot and damp; almost kinda breathless again, or still: “never ever.”

“Eds,” Steve begins, not even entirely sure where he plans to go, just knows he needs to do something, say something, but Eddie’s turning Steve’s hand in his, where he’d circled Eddie’s wrist; he’s turning it and mirroring the hold, gripping Steve’s wrist in kind.

“I couldn’t find it,” he gasps, and the sound makes the sob clear before Steve feels the wetness soak through to his skin; “I couldn’t feel it at all, you were, it,” he presses his fingers in hard, squeezes so goddamn tight, and Steve can’t…he doesn’t want to imagine what Eddie had to do, what Eddie found and felt, he doesn’t but he can, because he remembers the mirror image so stark, it took him so long because he couldn’t find a pulse either, he’d had to press on Eddie’s heart at the source and even then—

“I couldn’t feel you.”

Oh. Fuck. He—

“Oh, baby,” Steve’s elevated enough at an angle that he can at least kiss Eddie’s hair, barely brush his scalp but it’s enough, for the breath that punches from Eddie against his chest it’s at least something; “that’s…”

“I won’t survive that again, Steve,” Eddie sucks in, unsteady and drenched with tears, with sorrow, but also…also more than anything else, they’re filled up with so much love.

A love big enough to hurt that hard.

“And I can’t…” Eddie gasps, breath catching; “I can’t handle not feeling it,” and his fingers tighten; his hand on Steve’s chest and his cheek across from it press down that extra little bit so Steve knows his own heartbeat in those moments full and deep.

“Have to feel it always,” Eddie whispers like he’s telling himself, and Steve, and Steve’s heart through flesh and bone, some cosmic secret no one else can know: too sacred. Too precious.

“You can feel it any time,” Steve lets his hand fall from Eddie’s to cover the hand Eddie’s got splayed ln his chest, counting time; holds him there almost protectively: “all the time,” and he slips his fingers between Eddie’s and shifts his palm close to the beating, so he can still feel what he needs as he murmurs with his heart literally in Eddie’s hands, with his entire goddamn soul:

“All of me. It’s yours.”

Unshakable fucking fact. He doesn’t even have to will it, or hope for it; his heartbeat knocks that heavier against their hands for those words like it knows.

It knows.

“Don’t leave me,” Eddie bursts out, begging; almost something primal, and Steve can feel the tremoring of his lips where they drag against him; “please. I’ll do anything, I swear it, just don’t—“

“Be you,” Steve braves the whimper that comes from untangling his hand from Eddie so that he can reach for Eddies cheek and cradle him in closer, and oh, fuck, thank god: something in him sighs out and loosens, ever so slightly—finally.

“Everything you are,” Steve presses on, runs his thumb back and forth through Eddie’s drooping curls; “let me love you, past living and dying,” and Eddie’s breath catches, for that, but Steve holds him tighter for it, drowns him as best he’s able in the proof he needs so bad; “don’t leave me,” and Eddie huffs a little for that, like it’s beyond believing, impossible, and Steve smiles to himself for it, tries to lean enough to press the grin to Eddie’s head, hopes he manages as he murmurs there close:

“That’s it, Eddie,” and he lets his fingers spread wider, cradle Eddie all the more: “that’s all I need.”

“That and more baby,” Eddie answers him between the double-beat of his pulse, immediate; “you’re the music and the rhythm,” he nuzzles a little against him, and Steve smiles a little wider for it; “you’re the reason my heart beats,” and Steve finds that heartbeat for himself at Eddie’s jaw, now; a little calmer. Not much. But: something.

It’s a start.

”I don’t have a reason without you,” Eddie exhales, vehement; “I don’t want a reason, without you.”

And Steve should maybe push on it, or be scared by it: but neither seem right, not for this.

Not for them.

Steve just holds Eddie’s pulse under the pressure of his touch, and holds Eddie’s cheek closer still into his chest as he breathes:

“You’re my whole heart, Eds,” and he lets a second pass, and then another, for that heart of Eddie’s to pump evidence unshakable against him, to play the song and rhythm straight into his waiting ear:

“Was never going anywhere without you.”

♥️ ao3 link here

tag list (comment to be added): @pearynice @hbyrde36 @slashify @finntheehumaneater @wxrmland @dreamwatch

♥️

divider credit here

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sleepy-writes-stuff · 1 year

Text

(continuation of the continuation for the reaper of heroes au/writing prompt #3)

I said I was done with this writing prompt, didn't I? I lied. Brain won't let go.

← previous

✦

Healing Jason is slow going. Whatever was used to bind his soul back to his body with the chains already snapped and corroded was some really nasty stuff. Phantom worked tirelessly with the yetis of the Far Frozen to extract it from his underdeveloped core without causing his soul to separate again. It was excruciatingly painful for the man to go through but Phantom held onto his hand through the worst of it, even though Jason was too delirious to fully appreciate it.

In the end, the lazarus water was flushed out of his system and stored in a jar for later observations. Jason slept for many days afterwards as the yetis supplied his underdeveloped core with the nutrients it needed to finish forming. Phantom patiently waited by his side for as long as he was allowed in between his kingly/reaper duties.

Needless to say, it was quite a shock to Jason when he woke up to a strange white haired main sleeping silently in the chair next to his bed and the yeti dressed in a doctor's coat fixing a new bag of what looked to him was gently glowing lazarus water to his IV stand. Initially, he freaks out, waking Phantom up as Jason sprints out of the med room and out into below freezing weather. He can barely walk he's shivering so hard.

"You might wanna come back inside where it's warm. Unless you want to catch the rest of your death out there?" Is the first thing Phantom says to him after he woke up.

Jason goes back inside and is bundled in the fluffiest blankets he's ever seen. He asks what's going on and Phantom freely explains everything from the moment he collected his soul. How Clockwork had announced the unexpected creation of another halfa and the gruesome fate he would've had if Phantom hadn't found him and taken him to the Far Frozen when he did.

"Is that why you feel familiar? I've heard your voice before."

Phantom smiles sadly at him and nods his head in agreement. He apologizes once more for not being able to save him then and for not keeping his soul safe while he was most vulnerable. This is what Jason had imagined happening between him and Bruce so many times. Wishing for him to apologize for not making it in time. For letting the clown live. With some thought, Jason forgives Phantom and wonders at his ability to easily do so with the pit gone.

Jason is advised to stay in the Far Frozen until his core is fully developed and stabilized. Until then, Phantom teaches him what it means to be a halfa as well as about the Infinite Realms and his role as it's ruler. Jason is having a blast, surprisingly. Even more so when introduced to Ghostwriter and given permission to peruse his vast collection of every book ever written. Things are good so far. Things grind to a halt when the yetis call for Jason and Phantom's attention to something rather curious.

The jar that held the lazurus water has reformed into a ball the size of Jason's fist. A ball with large white eyes that looked up at them with black tears rolling down it's face that steadily dripped to the bottom of the jar.

✦

The sentient lazurus blob came out of no where, I swear. Regardless, I've decided the lazurus blob's name is Leslie and no one can change my mind. Their pronouns are they/them/it. Leslie is just scared and heavily misunderstood.

Leslie the Lazarus blob art by me

#dp x dc #dc x dp #dp x dc crossover #danny is ghost king #danny is the reaper of heroes souls #writing prompt #prompt #dp x dc prompt #leslie the lazurus blob #Reaper of Heroes AU #sleepy-writes-stuff

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undead-supernova · 3 months

Text

Masterlist

plot: they say that if it's right...you know...nothing has ever felt so wrong (so maybe you’ll just drunkenly wander the streets until you figure out somewhere to go)

warnings: alcohol consumption, arguments, cigarettes, I frowed up, hurt/comfort

pairings: steve harrington x fem!reader

wc: 2.8k

song inspiration: Hits Different by Taylor Swift (I've listened to this on repeat for like an entire year now)

note: HAPPY VALENTINE'S DAY to everyone who actually does NOT have a Valentine and would rather read about fictional characters because you're a real one out there. This is my first Steve one shot and I hope it's alright. Here's to all my sad and messy bitches !!!!

If It's Right...You Know

“Can someone call her a cab?”

“No!’’ you exclaim, wiping the tears under your eyes. You’re staring up at the bartender, trying to silently plead him to take pity on you despite how embarrassed you feel.

“I’m sorry, I’ll just go.”

He eyes you, shoving his plaid shirtsleeve up to his elbow as he walks over to the small computer. His eyes flicker towards you every few seconds, the buttons on the screen seemingly nothing compared to the state of you. It’s like you’re a car wreck, isn’t it? Just too hard to look away from despite the carnage.

“Are you sure?” he asks as he slaps your receipt down. You’re starting to scribble a tip with the shitty pen he’s provided when he decides to add, “This is the third time you’ve done this.”

You look back up, mortified. “Really?”

“Uh, yeah.”

“Oh, god,” you groan, desperately wanting to curl up into a ball and die. “That’s mortifying. I’ll do better next time.”

“Maybe lay off the booze until you feel better,” he suggests. “Or, you know, you talk to whoever that Steve guy is. Maybe try that.”

Before you can say anything in return, he’s grabbing your receipt, saluting you, and moving on to the next person in line.

And that’s it.

Tab closed.

Moment gone.

Sighing, you stand and grab your purse and jacket. Dip back whatever’s left of your shitty glass of a Screwdriver, the watered-down vodka tasting like absolutely nothing on your tongue. Suppressing your groan, you push through the growing crowd as you try to escape.

As soon as you emerge from the shitty little dive bar, you’re nearly blinded by the fresh midnight air. It nips at your skin, the September of it all begging for a chance to release its worst. And you’re wearing a short dress with high heels that aren’t covering your feet. It’s your own damn fault for not checking the weather before you came. Now look where you are.

Now it’s time to wander the streets, to try and find somewhere reasonable to go.

Because why go back home? Why risk sitting by yourself in the dark, nursing a bottle of wine that certainly won’t mix well with orange juice and vodka before spending the whole night by the toilet?

Why leave when the streets are perfect for a heartbroken woman like you, crowded with the hordes of others experiencing some form, no matter how miniscule, of melancholia?

A part of you finds it funny, fucking hilarious, that no one around you knows what you’re feeling. What you’re thinking.

If only they knew about the self-loathing, the devouring loneliness. How this is eating at the lining of your stomach, a kind of hunger that feels so different than any that has come to pass.

It always happens after a vacation, doesn’t it?

See, just a month ago, Steve had taken you on vacation to some beach in California. Said it was to get away from work. To get away from the stress. The late nights. The fuckery that lied in office buildings and smushed cubicles.

The beach felt like a perfect fit, thick with the scent of sunscreen and a couple of beers in a melting cooler. The sun itself felt like a form of freedom, cascading through the tie-dye umbrella desperately trying to stay put in the sand.

But it just kept slipping, kept trying to escape whenever the breeze rolled in. You sat closest to it, trying to hold it down whenever it popped up.

After maybe the fifth, sixth time, Steve had had enough.

“I got it, I got it,” he said with a sigh, trying to push the umbrella further into the sand. But every time he tested its stability, the pole seemed to shoot out of the damn hole.

“Fuck!” he exclaimed.

“Maybe we should just call it and put it down,” you suggested.

Steve raised an eyebrow at you. “What, and risk getting sunburnt?”

“So?”

He waved his hand around. “So, it’ll hurt. Like, a lot. And then neither of us will have any fun.”

“I think you’re just overreacting.”

But that was before you got burned.

And then you were the one losing it.

“This fucking hurts!” you nearly screeched, the sheets of the hotel bed scratching up against your inflamed skin.

“I told you that it was a bad idea.”

“Yeah, I know, Steve,” you grumbled. “I got that the first ten times you said it.”

“You’ll be fine.”

“Easy for you to say.”

Steve, the one who had been worried about getting burned, hadn’t. In fact, his skin was glowing. Practically radiating with the most perfect tan you’d ever seen. Just a fucking daydream of golden skin and honey hair.

Despite your scowl, Steve seemed to let go, the crease between his eyebrows smoothing out.

“Come here,” he whispered, squeezing the green aloe vera gel into his palm. “You can be grumpy, but you’ll have to let me play doctor.”

“Don’t you dare,” you nearly seethed.

But you weren’t scary enough for Steve. He took a small glob and rubbed it along your shoulder. You yelped at the cold sting, but that was before it settled in and left you at a comfortable ease.

“Oh, fuck,” you sighed, letting your head finally rest against the pillow.

“Oh, look at that. I’ve already got my license.”

That pulled a giggle out of you, finally, the irritation seeming to dissipate the longer you let it out. Steve joined in with you, probably just happy that you weren’t acting like a complete asshole.

The rest of your trip was spent smearing aloe vera over your body and lounging on the balcony. Eating seafood at little restaurants along the coast. Walked the piers at night, taking flashlights to look for little crabs. You even brought home a whole bag of seashells.

Despite the pain, you had the best time of your life with Steve.

But that was the heart of summer.

And now it’s coming to a close.

A few more blocks over, your mind starts to stray away from the present, the liquor reaching the corners of your mind that you’d rather leave darkened. The parts that have always been an issue, even when you were secure enough in your relationship.

Where’s Steve tonight? you wonder. Who is he with?

Because there are so many women out there, so so many, who would lose their minds if they met someone like Steve. He’s something more than just a man, more than just a pretty face or a quick fuck. No, he’s got something about him that transcends what you have always comprehended about the male species. Something that feels almost…magical.

He’s something of a dreamboat, an absolute firework show with that hair and those eyes and that smile and—

Well.

He’s not yours right now, is he?

He doesn’t have a girlfriend waiting for him anymore. In fact, he could be with some other girl. Some girl with a better smile and a better laugh and a better body and better lips, holding onto his arm as they walk down the cobblestones of a street you used to stroll down. Steve helping her walk in her heels through the cracks, guiding her like a fucking gentleman.

And maybe he’s kissing her right now, whispering to her that she’s much, much better than his ex, some crazy fucked up mess who doesn’t know what she’s missing. How you’re just too hard to handle, too soft and sensitive for him. How you never gave him any chance at peace. How it was so much better now that you’re gone.

What if he’s kissing some other girl right now?

Leaning up against a streetlamp, you can’t help it when your stomach makes the decision for you. You can’t think properly, can barely see through your tears as you lean over and throw up on the street.

“You good?” a female voice asks, putting a hand on your shoulder.

You turn to her, registering her hesitance at your appearance most likely, and nod. “Yeah, it’s fine. I’m fine.”

She looks relatively around your age, with a perfect manicure and a cigarette in her fingers, mauve lipstick wrapped around the filter. Her dark chestnut strands waves around her face, eyelids sparkling with pink glitter.

“Do you have anyone with you?” she asks, looking around.

“Yeah,” you lie immediately, pointing at the crowded bar across the street. “I’ve got some girls waiting for me inside. Just went a little heavy on the liquor tonight.”

“Is this about some guy?” she presses. You can’t help but nod. “Take my advice. Lay off the alcohol for a little bit and get yourself some sleep. You’ll wake up and think to yourself, ‘Wow, that random stranger was right. Thank you, random stranger.’” That makes you chuckle. “I’m sure your friends will understand.”

“Yeah,” you say before you slip in a lie. “I’ll try to do that.”

“Godspeed, my new friend,” she responds with a smile. She salutes you, pats your shoulder, and walks away.

You watch her as she goes, stunned that a mere stranger could see right through you.

Maybe people do know that you’re experiencing heartbreak. Maybe it’s written all over your face, some typical sad woman with smudged mascara and lipstick. A desperate girl stumbling down the street, destined for catastrophic failure. Or maybe you’re just shit at keeping yourself together in public.

But you’ve come too far now to turn back. It’s time to keep moving.

You knew you fucked up the moment it was all said and done.

See, when you broke up with Steve, you really, really didn’t want to. You thought you needed space, that there was shit the two of you needed to figure out. Separately. If your jealousy and his indifference were to collide, well, maybe you shouldn’t be together.

And maybe it was better if you sabotaged yourself instead of trying to actually work on yourself. What’s the point of trying to fix the problem instead of running away and convincing yourself that you weren’t supposed to be this happy? That you weren’t supposed to be this at ease. That you didn’t deserve to be with Steve.

It didn’t even really matter the reasoning if you even had one at all. The details were insignificant, the excuses piss poor. All you can hear now is Steve’s voice, all crackly and strained as he asked you question after question.

“I don’t understand.”

“So, what, now you’re just gonna leave? Leave us behind?”

“Do you still love me?”

To that, you had an answer.

“Yes.”

“So why are you doing this?”

To that, you had none.

Steve left his spare key that night when your inevitable fight led to an outburst and a slamming of the door. You didn’t notice for days, hoping that you’d hear the key turn in the door, and he’d stumble down the hallway with a hug and a promise that you’d fix this.

But he didn’t.

And you said nothing.

So, you spent your nights going out to bars for some kind of companionship with the other strangers haunting the sticky, stingy rooms. You became a blubbery fool, desperate for a conversation that you refused to initiate. Desperate to get over Steve. Desperate to let him be like all the rest, insignificant and easy to forget.

But Steve is different.

And you are really starting to fucking hate these heels.

How did you end up here?

You pause, staring up at the sign above the door.

Penguin & The Whale.

It was, you guessed it, a neon image of a penguin standing in the mouth of a whale.

This…is the bar you and Steve go the most. The one you met in years ago, just two stupid college students without any clue as to what the future held. Him working on some finance presentation and you finding any chance not to read the book you were supposed to.

That night started with a “You go to college around here?” and ended with his number on a scrap of paper that you still keep in your wallet.

And somehow…you’re here after weeks of avoidance.

Staring at that damn penguin.

That damn whale.

Despite your confusion, your aching feet and chilled legs pull you in, using some of the last of your physical energy to push open the door. You’re hit with the thick smell of tobacco, the whole room seemingly drenched in smoke.

For nearly one in the morning, the place is still relatively crowded. There’s college students (mainly frat bros) and two separate bachelorette parties, all congregated along the length of the bar itself. You do your usual shimmy through moving figures, desperate to get to your spot.

God, it’s stuffy and you’re tired and your fucking feet are killing you and—

There at your favorite table, next to your favorite seat, is Steve.

He’s running his hand through his hair, scribbling something on a napkin. Mouthing along to whatever he’s writing, like he’s still figuring out what he’s trying to say. He strikes through something rapidly before letting out a sigh.

Steve isn’t his usual self, you realize. His hair doesn’t hold the same volume or shine. There’s a bit more acne than usual, all picked at and scabbed. His outfit is more casual than usual, a Hall & Oats t-shirt and…were those a pair of sweatpants?

He never goes outside with sweats on…

“Steve?”

He looks up, nearly startled. Like he’s shocked to see you here.

“Hey,” he says, standing. Runs a hand through his hair and adjusts his shirt. “What, uh, what’re you doing here?”

You don’t miss it when he turns over the napkin.

“Just kinda wound up here,” you say. “What are you doing here?”

Steve shrugs. “Yeah, well, you know.” He takes a deep breath. “Just kinda wanted to get a quick drink, you know, ‘cause…” He stops himself, tapping himself on the head before waving his hand in the air. Puts his hand on his hips. “Yeah, uh, forget it. I’m lying. I was waiting for you. I’ve been waiting here for you for the past week.”

“For me?”

“Yeah,” he responds, nodding. “Not like living here, obviously, ‘cause that would be insane. But I’ve been trying to figure out what to say to you if you ever came. Oh, and I think the bartender might be sick of me.” You open your mouth to say something, but Steve rattles on. “And it’s actually crazy because I started thinking fifteen minutes ago, ‘You know, the probability of her showing up is actually quite dismal’, but here you are, proving myself wrong—"

Without hesitation, you pull him into a hug. It’s maybe the most tender hug you’ve ever had, with his arms wrapping around you immediately. Giving a soft squeeze, running his fingers through your hair. His face is nuzzling into your neck, his breath sending shivers down your back. He’s melting you, wearing down the shell you’d forced yourself into. For too long you’ve been coasting by, letting your pride and jealousy get the best of you. Convincing yourself that he’d walk away and leave you shattered on the floor before running off into the arms of some other girl that only exists in your head.

But here Steve is, waiting for you. Choosing you.

There never was any competition, was there?

“I’m sorry,” you whisper. “I’m so, so sorry.”

“It’s okay. You’re okay. Just needed some time, I get it.”

You pull him tighter against you. “I don’t want to keep pretending that this isn’t the absolute worst thing I’ve ever done in my life.”

“That’s okay,” he says, pulling back. Wipes some of your smudged lipstick and mascara out of the way. Leaves a peck on the tip of your nose. “How about we fix that mistake together?”

“Yeah, I think I’d like that.”

“Me, too.” His lips meet your forehead before he dips down to meet your eyes. “Want me to get you a drink?”

“Water.” He raises an eyebrow at you. “I think I’m going to lay off the booze for a while.”

This gets a laugh out of him, the first you’ve heard in weeks.

It’s bliss.

“Okay, hun. Sit down here,” he says as he pulls out your favorite chair, helps to push it in once you sit. “You look good but, Jesus, your feet must be killing you.”

You smile. And this is your first smile today. The first time you’re feeling a release of every nasty, negative feeling you’ve had for the last two weeks.

Steve walks towards the bar, fiddling with his hair again and you even see him check his breath.

Looking over, you see the napkin resting on the edge of the table.

You glance back over, making sure Steve’s back is still turned before you turn it over.

There’s just something about you

I just can’t stop thinking about you

I don’t know.

I fucking miss you!!!!

I love you. I’m sorry.

I’m an idiot. This is stupid.

Can we please talk through this?

I can’t move on because of you.

Because I love you.

Because it’s you.

#Steve Harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington angst #Steve Harrington fluff #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington one shot #steve harrington fanfiction #just a little something before I upload next week #happy vday bitches

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adora-but-ginger · 1 year

Text

Incipient

incipient (adj.): the initial stage, beginning to develop, a bloom about to happen; commonly used for people when referring to the start of a new friendship, relationship; what could be.

pairing: joel miller x gn!reader

summary: you've had enough of joel putting the blame on you.

word count: ~ 2.4k(ish)

warnings: typical tlou violence and warnings, clickers, minor injury, the use of a machete and a gun, angst, fluff, swearing, a little bit of an age gap, spoliers for episode two, talk of handling grief, tbh joel deserves a warning for himself in general.

masterlist

a/n: okay so this has quite literally been haunting my drafts for the past two weeks, but i've been swamped with work, and the weather has been (not to be dramatic but) the worst it's been since i've moved here. also, you know that one edit of pedro? the one of him as agent whiskey? yeah, that one. it's been living rent free in my mind, meaning more pedro fics will be created. thank you for reading! <3

oh yeah, i almost forgot! don't repost my stories, because only people that bald early do that, and i bet you wouldn't like that too much, hmm?

credit to gif owner!!

Something had changed after Tess was gone. After sneaking out of the State House and watching it get blown to bits, something inside you had dampened. Sure, you and Tess weren't friends, but you both had helped each other out of some trouble here and there, and that's not even mentioning the problems you helped diffuse with Joel. But she was hellbent on making sure Ellie got to where she needed to be, and the least you could do would be to honour her last wish.

Ellie had tried to bring Tess up after you all escaped, but Joel quickly shut her down, turning to you before starting with his usual ways, closing up any emotions in regard to grief and shoving them away. But he didn't stop there, oh no. The only other outlet he knew of was anger, and he picked you to be on the receiving end.

You figured it was better you than Ellie, but it still didn't excuse his actions.

He was never overly kind to you, and you never expected him to be, but after Tess had gone and the weeks piled up, his fuse kept getting shorter and shorter.

You shouldn't have gone first into the abandoned building.

You should watch how much ammo you use.

If you had been thinking ahead, you would've known that there would have been infected in the area.

And though he was really getting on your nerves, you didn't speak up about it, because you figured it could be a lot worse. You were never that confrontational before the outbreak, and you were still trying to work on it. You got that he needed a way to handle his grief, but jesus christ this was becoming too much, and it was just a matter of time before you snapped.

The three of you had entered what looked to be the remnants of what used to be a garden center when you dealt it back to him. The old building had run rampant with the different plants that used to be properly contained inside, a jungle of green that grew once the roof caved in. You had all just narrowly avoided a group of runners and found solace in the building, but your guard remained up.

It was hard to maneuver through, the plants reclaiming every inch. Plus, you had no idea what could be hiding in the shadows that these photosynthesizing beings could produce.

"This is like a fucking maze." You whispered, making sure to keep your voice down.

"Did you guys ever watch that really old movie Jumanji?" Ellie said as she pushed back some leaves. Joel snorted at that, shaking his head. He was bringing up the back, everyone walking in a line to get to the other side.

You were in the front, carving a path as best as you could. You turned your head to look back at the other two with a small chuckle. "I really never know what you're going to say, El."

"Well, someone's gotta keep up the conversation, with Mr. grumpy back there always being so talkative."

Joel rolled his eyes. "We need to be careful, there's no time for--" A shriek filled everyone's ears, finishing his statement for him. A shriek that could only belong to one type of creature: a clicker.

It came from what sounded like the next room, meaning they weren't as alone as they suspected.

Eyes wide, you locked yours with Joel. He put a finger to his lips in a shushing motion before nodding to the machete in your hands that was helping you clear the path, the machete that coincidentally was caught in the middle of a thick stem. There was barely a walkway behind you all, and the runners were no doubt looming outside the entrance. You guys were caught in the middle of a real situation, one that didn't have a bright outcome at the end. Best case scenario, there was only one clicker ahead of you all, but you found that doubtful.

Joel had moved to the middle, maneuvering Ellie behind him. He put his hand over your own to help slowly remove the machete, which had more of an affect on you than you'd care to admit. Yeah, it was the end of times, but you were touch starved.

The clicker's calls knocked you out of your momentary daze, opting to instead take a deep, silent breath. Slowly you moved the weapon out of the green, and you had just relaxed your shoulders when you realized how desperate this situation really was. The machete had obscured part of your view before, but not even ten feet in front of you stood the source of your fear, moving and clicking, searching for some more to share the fungus with.

You had become used to managing your breathing tempo these days, but the haze that Joel had caused mixed with the dead slowly inching towards you had you, well, distracted to say the least. His hand hadn't left its grip around yours, if anything it had tightened around your own, which was something you were definitely going to bring up if you all made it out unscathed.

It didn't help that he was directly behind you. He was like a brick wall, not that you were complaining.

But the moment you knew that you were all toast was when he became aware of how close he was to you too. Because he straightened his back, just slightly, fixing his posture around you, and in that fraction of a second, his foot moved just little enough to kick a piece of debris.

The three of you held your breath, hoping that it wasn't enough to get the creature to turn your way.

There was a reason hope ran so little nowadays.

These sorts of situations always tended to play out in slow motion for you. It was as if every opportunity death took to look upon you, it wanted to make sure you were giving your full attention to it.

The clicker screamed and shot itself towards you, and without even realizing it you had pushed Joel back and sliced at it. "Get back!" you shouted backwards, pushing against the fungus that was trying to attack you. Its arm swiped at yours and caught skin, making you shout in pain. You pushed the machete deeper into it, the monster's force pushing you both back into the greenery. It was getting incredibly close, the smell of it invading your senses at an unpleasant rate, its jaw snapping at the air.

You closed your eyes, waiting for the inevitable.

But in the flash of an eye, the pressure was gone. The smell was gone, the creature was gone. Joel had grabbed the thing and pushed it into the open, where Ellie quickly shot it, making the dead drop to the ground once more.

Luck must have pitied you because no other shrieks followed it, meaning that there was only one around, for now at least.

"Holy shit, that was a close one." Ellie said, eyes wide. Joel rushed into the clearing, checking to make sure that there wouldn't be another one any time soon. Once he came back, he rushed over to you, looking you over for bite marks.

"I didn't get bit, Joel. Close to it though." You shook him off, bringing your injured arm up to your middle.

He heaved with what you first thought was adrenaline, but soon realized was anger. "What were you thinking?" He spit out, venom lacing his words.

Like you said earlier, you were getting tired of this. You had had enough. "What was I thinking?" You scoffed, shaking your head. "What were you thinking?" Your eyes shot daggers into his, ready for the metaphorical kettle to finally tip over. "This was not my fault! Shit, what is wrong with you?" You stepped closer to him, sizing him up. "If anything, you alarmed it of our presence, and jesus christ not everything is on me." Shoving past him into the open area, you clenched your jaw in anger. After all of that, he had the nerve--

"I'm not saying it is, but goddamnit if you had just waited to pull that giant ass knife out, we would've--" Another scoff cut him off.

"You find something every fucking time something goes wrong to pin on me, and frankly it's getting annoying. I've stood there and took it, but shit Joel, ever since Tess, you've had a stick so far up your ass that I could practically see it when you talked."

He shot a glare at you, and the ice in which he spoke with would remain with you for longer than you would like to admit. "You don't get to bring up Tess."

"Yes, I do! We should all be able to--just because you don't know how to grieve doesn't mean that we can't either." Clenching your good fist, you knew that you may have overstepped a line, but damn it he did not have to treat you two like this.

"You ain't have a single idea what I've grieved. I've--" he stopped short, his voice breaking ever so slightly. His teeth grit, jaw moving alongside it, and closed his eyes. He took a deep breath, one filled with the weight of the people he's lost, and eventually he looked at you with a gaze slightly softer, which you were oddly suspicious of.

"Listen, I know that I've been a little...rougher since Tess."

Ellie chuckled a good distance behind him. "That's putting it vaguely."

"I just, fuck." He mumbles to himself, looking at his feet.

"What, Joel? I'm not going to deal with this if it continues, I'm not doing that to myself."

"Fucking hell, I care about you, okay?" His voice slightly raised, and the way his irises met yours, well it took your breath away. He was staring at you with a gleam in his eye that you've almost never seen--vulnerability. "I know I'm harsh sometimes, but goddammit I..." His eyes close, and you see his chest rise and lower. "...I don't know."

"That doesn't excuse your actions though. I care about you too, the both of you, but you don't see--" You voice fades as he starts pacing the area, mumbling to himself. You raise an eyebrow at him, looking to Ellie who shrugs in response. He's never acted like this before, and your gut drops at why he could be this vulnerable right now.

And then it hits you.

Only momentarily, but you need to ask right now or you won't be able to again. Maybe you were overthinking it, but there was only one reason why he could be acting so strange.

You hold your breath as you say it.

"Are you infected?"

That makes him stop in his tracks, hearing what you just said. Striding over to you, he shakes his head. "No, I ain't infected, I'm just not good at this."

Your shoulders slack in relief, your heart able to return to a semi-normal beat. Yeah, you two butted heads a good amount of the time, but he was the closest person in decades that you would admit you trusted.

He's still looking at the ground, so you decide to take a different approach now that the frightful question is out of the way.

"Good at what? Honey, you're scaring me." You speak gentler, tilting your head to try to meet his eyes. You've never called him an endearment before, much less honey, and you try to ignore the flutters in your chest that erupt at doing so. "You can talk to me, I'm here for you. Hell, we've known each other for how long now? I won't judge you." He had always been closed off, ever since you arrived to the QZ, but that seemed to catch his attention because he flicked his eyes to your injured arm briefly before meeting your gaze.

"Tess told me that I need to tell you eventually, and I just worry about you a lot, and I--" He placed a hand over your wound, studying it. "I care about you care about you, more than you know, and I'll work on the anger issues, I just worry about you, way more than I should."

And though you could read between the lines at what he was saying, you cupped his chin and asked anyways. Maybe it was a part of you being a little selfish, but you had just nearly been put into cardio arrest at thinking he might be infected, so you asked anyway.

"Are you saying you fancy me, Miller?"

He chuckled at that, rolling his eyes in amusement. "If you want to put it that way, then yes...I fancy you. I know you're a little younger than me, and that you already probably have someone waiting back at the QZ, but you're just-" he gulped. "-real important to me is all."

You smiled, leaning in a little closer to him. "Hey, it doesn't matter that you're a little older, and you of all people know damn well that I only had you, Tess, and a couple others back there. My heart has always been yours."

It looked like a weight had been physically lifted off of his shoulders too at your response, and you saw the ghost of a smile grace his features. He leaned in close, closer than he had ever done before, and his voice sounded like sweet whiskey, the good kind served pre-outbreak.

"Can I kiss you?"

"I'd thought you'd never ask."

And when his mouth met yours, it was like a piece of you that had been missing was found. Like a flower had been waiting for the right moment to bloom. It was a little messy, but that was alright given that it had been a while since either of you had probably done this.

A cough snapped you both out of the trance you were in. "Okay, lovebirds, I'm happy that you two are getting along again and all but can this--" she waved her knife in between you two from where she stood against the doorframe by the exit, a look of disgust on her face. "Wait until after we're all out of here? This place gives me the creeps."

A small laugh left you and him, and you broke apart. "She's right, we'd better get moving before anything else that may be in here finds us."

He had a smirk on his face, another look you hadn't really seen before. "Lead the way honey'"

Oh, you could get used to this.

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