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#and i hate it cause i haven't had more than two bad days in a row since 2019
widevibratobitch · 6 months
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webslingingslasher · 4 months
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omg what if Peter gets trouble a gift for x-mas BUT trouble didn't bother with a gift for him bc she thought that he wouldn't care about her enough to get her a gift
'what's that?'
'oh!' peter holds out the package, when you stare at the printed santa wrapping paper, he nudges it a little. 'it's for you.'
your entire stomach dropped, you knew you should've gotten him something. you were so convinced it would be stupid, but now you're eating your words.
'c'mon, trouble. what, never got a gift before?' it's fine, you could play it off. you hesitantly reach out for the box, it's even got a bow on top.
'no! i just... haven't gotten yours in the mail yet.' it's fine, you could figure something out. you had two days before he left for home.
'you didn't have to get me anything, trouble.' you peer at the gift, 'ditto, parker.' peter waves you off, 'just open it, c'mon!' you hide your guilt with a smile.
gently tearing the paper, you're met with a gift box. it has a reindeer and a penguin hugging, you peek up at peter, he's itching for you to see what's inside. 'open it, open it!'
handing off the scraps of paper, peter crushes it into a ball, keeping an eye on your face. the gift is revealed, a gray hoodie, with a spider-man mask emblem on the left top corner.
your heart expands three sizes, your thumb runs over the raised embroidering, it's high quality. 'isn't it awesome? i saw it when i was shopping for may like, three weeks ago. i just had to get it for you.' he's so excited, he was proud to know he found something he knows you'd love. and you got him nothing in return.
'okay, okay, put it on! cause there's kind of a part two of the gift.' you feel terrible, it's hard to push back the love for the clothing over the overwhelming hurt you have over getting him nothing. you knew you shouldn’t have talked yourself out of it.
you didn't want to be in peter's spot. something to give and then receive nothing in return. a subtle hint that one cares more about the other.
your silence has peter tone down his excitement, maybe he was a little off with his gift. 'do you not like it? i can return it and you can pick... no! why are you crying? is it that bad?'
you shake your head, using the back of your hand to wipe a stray tear. 'oh, whew! for a second i thought you hated it, but nope, peter picked good. so good you're speechless and crying, look at me go.'
proud. boastful. meanwhile you're solemn and glum.
'seriously, trouble. put it on!' it's the absolute least you could do, he already went miles ahead of you. the cardboard falls to the floor when you pull the fabric up, it's a bigger size than you'd normally wear. 'that's part two. i got it a little bigger so i could wear it and get my scent on it for you.'
your heart’s about to burst open, it's fleece lined and ultra soft over your skin. 'i wore it when you weren't around, so it should smell like me.' you bring a sleeve to your nose, it does. it smells like a giant peter hug. his hands pulled the hoodie over your head, a dopey smile took over his face.
'super cute. it's your superpower.'
with that, you fall into his chest with a sob. it's not a good one either, arms wrap tight around you, his cheek resting on your head mashes the cotton further down. 'i lied!' you clutch his shirt, shame spills out.
'about what? that you like it?' your head thrashes, he couldn't be more wrong. it was your most favorite possession now that it's been added to your collection.
'i didn't get you anything!' you pull him tighter to you, terrified he’d push you away and tell you he hates you. 'i'm so sorry,' you breathe in and out deeply. 'i was going to but then i didn't think you would get me anything and that's not the point of christmas but i didn't want to make you feel weird and, and,'
'i made you feel weird?' it's not the right word. 'no! i just...' peter pushes you back, his hands cup your face to force you to look at him. 'made you feel bad?' you nod, he guessed correctly.
'i meant it, trouble. you don't have to get me anything, i just saw it and thought of you. it's not a big deal, i promise.' that made you feel worse and he can see it.
'stop it, stop. you heard me, right? i got that weeks ago. christmas was just an opportunity give it to you, but if it was april or june or whatever the fuck month, i still would've bought it.' featherlight kisses to both cheeks. 'it’s a just because gift, christmas was just an excuse to give it to you, okay? you've gotten me plenty of those before, i don't need one now.'
'i'm so sorry, peter. i promise i'm gonna get you something, i mean, it won't be a christmas gift because you're going home and i won't be able to give to you until you get back so then it just becomes-'
peter grins, like he's thinking quicker than you are. 'a just because gift? like the one you're wearing?' you were the one that fucked him over, yet he's the one making you feel better. it still works.
'yeah. i think so. but, it will have christmas wrapping paper.' a stoic nod, 'of course. i mean, that's the only stuff i had in the house. it's not like i chose that pattern on purpose.' (he did. but he'd die before he admitted that to you.)
you look down at your new hoodie, you love it. your hands run down the front, it's so, so soft. you look back up, peter loves that you love it. 'not a christmas gift?' peter shakes his head, 'psh. of course not.'
your words lower, you reach up on tippy toes for a kiss. 'just because?' hands on your hips as peter leans in has your stomach fluttering, it's been a minute since he's kissed you so soft and slow. 'just because.' 
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teaffrogy · 25 days
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Anxiety [Astarion]
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SUM. Anxiety and stress have been eating at you. Till you broke.
Fem Reader(You/Tav) X Astarion (takes place in Act 3)
A/N: I am not feeling well mentally, and I just want comfort, so I am giving myself some sort of comfort. I am struggling with anxiety and depression. I am seeing a therapist, but my life is making me want to quit.
Tw(?): Talks a lot about Anxiety and stress
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You haven't slept.
It's been two days since you haven't been able to sleep properly. You'd stir in your bedroll or just look outside of the flaps of your tent. What was keeping you awake? Anxiety.
Anxiety of going Back Home, getting this weird tadpole out of you, having to find find the two neteratones who two powerful people have, help Karlach with her engine and worry about what happens next for her, and so so but so much more from everyone else in the camp. Your stomach was killing you. You'd even throw up at random because of the stupid fucking Anxiety that was eating at you. Every encounter leads to new situations that cause even more anxiety.
And some of your companions Have noticed you not leaving your tent for two days. One is because you fall asleep and wake up super Late, the other is because you don't want to go out. You haven't been leaving because you don't want to encounter more situations And the current ones, you are avoiding everything, everyone. And it makes you feel even more worse about yourself than ever because of how much you've been avoiding it.
Astarion would come in to Ask if you are alright but you just said yes. He even asks you to go on a night walk with him since he saw you not sleep at night. But you kindly refused saying he needs to rest too. He would say you two could simply stay. in your tent and he Can just read. But you said no. Shadowheart would come to your tent to ask if you are alright, you'd say you're fine, just tired, but she knew something was wrong and it was bugging her. Gale too, he'd ask or even bring you your favorite meal he made but you wouldn't even touch it. If you did eat You'd just end up throwing it up.
“Do you think she is pregnant?” Karlach asks. “You think so? She's been throwing up.” Shadowheart says. “She is not pregnant!” Gale yells. “And how would you know?” Astarion asks, and Gale says nothing. “Well, I don't think it's because of her being pregnant, I think she'd know if she is. Plus, she seems down.” Wyll says as he looks at your tent, which you haven't left again. Halsin looks at your tent and sees you turn on a candle. You move around, and half your body is out of the tent, but go back inside and turn the candle off. Halsin sighs and looks at everyone. “She is avoiding something or someone.��� He says.
Someone? But who?
And they started to point fingers at who. First, it was Astarion(of course) they had thought that their relationship had ended which caused you to lock yourself Away, but it hasn't, it is a good relationship. Then it was Gale. Maybe she was scared he'd blow up! But it was false. You two had talked privately about this. Then it was Wyll. Maybe she was scared of Misora? But no, you had told him you wanted to fight her. Then Karlach, again, burns and blows up. But again, you had ressured Her that you trusted her. Then Shadowheart, her beliefs in Shar maybe were too much for you. Again, you told her as well that it didn't matter to you at all. Halsin…there wasn't really anything wrong. No one had nothing to say about him.
So what was it?
Laezel? But she said that you two were good, that for them to assume something like that was idiotic.
And They gave up. It was either because you hated someone and they didn't know why or you were pregnant. Which are two bad options, but what else?
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You couldn't sleep again.
Everyone was in their tents, asleep. You were culled up into a ball as you thought of everything that simply kept coming, and your stomach was killing you again. You wanted to throw up, but at the same time, you didn't. You didn't want to throw up what you had eaten. Gale had made your favorite food. It would be sad if you just threw it up.
And the thoughts are quiet now. They just stopped. You breathed carefully and heard footsteps. It's Astarion. He probably came back from a haunt. You smiled at the thought of him, but the thoughts came back.
What would he think of me now? Does He think I'm disgusting? God, what if he just wants to end things? Does he love me? What am I doing wrong?
It was getting hard to breathe. Your eyes would move from one place to another in seconds and you sat up. Your vision starts to blur as you try to look around. You try to speak but you just make a weird sound like a cry. You cover your mouth and just cry. You hugged the pillow again and covered your face in it as you cried. You could Feel your pillow Start to get soaked as your tears would hit it.
And the flaps to your tent Open. You look up and see Astarion. “Darling?” He calls. You were a mess. Your whole tent was really. He looks at you, hugging your pillow as you try to muffle up the sobs and cries. He sits next to you, not really knowing what to do. He was never really comforted before. Only by you after Cazedor Died. He was crying, shaking and you simply pulled him into a hug and let Him cry it all out until he stopped.
He pulls the pillow away from your face and you sob, avoiding looking at him. He lifts your chin Up and you look into his eyes, his gorgeous red eyes. They reminded you of garnets. Those eyes that shined after he had drinken from you. But today, they looked hurt, worried.
He gently kisses your forehead and then pulls you into a hug. You stood there, frozen for at least 5 seconds before your eyes started to water again, and you wrapped your arms around him. And you just cried. You just cried as you hugged Him, and that's when you spilled it all. “I am so tired!” You say and bury your face on his chest. Your crying starts to calm down. “I have so much to do. I- I just-” You sniffed and sighed. “I am tired. I haven't slept for 2 days, and I have such bad anxiety.” You say as you stopped hugging, but he still is holding on to you. You fidget with the end of the button to his shirt. “Wyll, we have To help him rescue his dad, Karlach, we need to find Dammon so he can see if he can fix her engine, Shadowheart, She has these people after her because she betrayed Shar and now we need to also find her parents, Gale, We Find a book and now he wants the crown of the Elder brain, Laezel well… she is cool.” You smiled, and Astarion chuckles at the end. But he notices everything that is put on you.
Everyone expects you to do something or help them with something. Make huge decisions For them as well. Since the very beginning. “You don't think I'm cool?” He asks and you nod. “You aren't. You are amazing.” You say and he hugs you tighter. “I'm sorry.” you say.
“Don't Apologize Darling.” He says as he pulls from the hug to look at you. “You may feel like you are doing this all by yourself. But you aren't.” He says as he brushes your hair behind your ear. “I'm here. And also I suppose everyone else here as well.” He says and you nod. You felt like crying again but your head hurt. “Also I heard you all talking and what the hell is up with you all thinking I am pregnant?”
“I never thought you were! You know I am not good with kids. I am not risking it to burst myself instead yo-”
“Shush!” You cover his mouth and he grins. “You are sometimes too loud.” You say and he nods. And you two are quiet. You don't know if you would sleep tonight or Would even leave your tent. You were still anxious as to what was coming. But, at least you know you aren't alone now.
“I know you won't sleep tonight, Darling. Would I interest you in a bath? And after a lovely love session?” He says as he holds your hand and brings it to his lips, placing a kiss. He then gets close to you and kisses you. You smile in the kiss. After a couple of minutes of kissing, you pull away and look at him. You nod. "I'd love that.” You say as you hold on to his hand.
“I love you Astarion.” It felt weird saying it. You two don't say it often, but it has a lot of meaning for you two after everything you two have gone through.
“I love you too Darling.”
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mrdrwrites · 4 months
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Pairings: Felix Catton x fem!reader
Summary: you and Felix hate eachother but have to work together at a dog salon owned by your best friend Oliver. one day Oliver is sick of the two of you arguing and causing scenes in the workplace so locks you both in his office where you and Felix get a little more than friendly.
CW: NSFW, minors DNI, sex, blowjob, praise, bad language, rough-ish sex
WC: 1.9k
warning: i am dyslexic so don't expect all words to be spelled correctly, also i don't autocapitalise my words most of the time
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
The day started as it usually did, Oliver drove to Felix’s house to pick him up, much to my disdain, and we all went to work. Today though, things were different. I felt different. More irritable.
‘Felix what the fuck!’ I screeched, looking at the purple maltese in front of me.
It had been two hours since work started and already Felix had fucked up.
‘What's wrong y/n?’ he questions coming from the other side of the room.
‘I asked you to do one thing,’ i put up a finger, ‘one singular thing and you cant even do that,’
He furrows his brows, ‘ I did as you said.’
‘No Felix. You didn't. You dyed the dog fucking purple,’ i point to the maltese wrapped in a towel, her tongue out of her mouth as she pants.
‘I did not,’ he challenges, ‘ I put the purple shampoo in, like you asked.’
‘No Felix. You really didn't,’ he is so stupid, ‘you put temporary dye on her coat. Not the shampoo.’
‘It's not my fault there were two bottles that looked practically the same on the end of the bathing station,’ he leans toward Brandy, the maltese, as if inspecting her for himself.
‘Yes it is,’ I roll my eyes, ‘read next time.’ I'm still yelling.
‘Oh shut it y/n,’ he rolls his eyes, turning to me now, ‘I'm sure you've done something like this before.’
‘No Felix i haven't, because believe it or not,’ i lean closer to his face, ‘i can actually read’
I see Oliver in my peripheral vision coming to Felix and i.
‘You two. My office. Now,’ Oliver states flatly, most likely tired of out yelling.
He is pissed. Without checking if Felix is following me I turn and stomp into Oliver’s office, arms crossed over my chest. Soon enough Felix joins me and I give him a pointed look, squinting and giving him a grimace. Behind us, the door slams shut. Locking from the outside. I rush over to the door and try wiggling the handle for it to open but it doesn't move.
‘You two aren't coming out of there til you figure out your differences. I am tired of you being hostile with each other,’ Oliver shouts through the locked door of his office.
I pound on the door begging Oliver to let us out but I hear his footsteps move further from the door. Sighing, I turn so my back is against the wood and slide down. Felix’s eyes follow me down, shortly following me sitting on the floor.
‘This is all your fault, i direct my anger towards the man across from me.
My knees are against my chest, skirt tight on my thighs. Felix quirks his head to the side looking from my legs to my face, a small smirk playing on his lips.
‘What?’ I question impatiently.
He shakes his head, raking his eyes down my legs once more. I huff and lean my head back. Oliver could have at least put music on or something so we aren't bored. No way in hell am I making up with Felix Catton. Not a chance.
‘y/n,’ I hear his voice, strained, unusual.
I look over, his eyes seem darker almost dangerous.
‘What?’ I question again, his eyes still trained on my legs.
Instead of answering he moves closer to me, so that he could reach out and touch me if he really wanted to.
‘What have you got on under your skirt?’ he questions, i drop my legs immediately, face blushing.
I ignore his question but his hands reach for my legs, pushing them back up to my chest. The pencil skirt doesn't budge as my legs move, still strained over my thighs. This certain pencil skirt is so tight any underwear could be seen through so I decided, in a rush to get changed, to not wear any at all. I'm still looking at Felix, his hands are still on my legs and his pupils are dilating. I can see the hunger in his eyes. My thighs clench together on instinct of being watched with such intent.
‘Can I touch you?’ his voice is barely above a whisper, eyes shooting up to my own, a need in them that I have never seen before.
I nod slowly, his eyes still trained on mine, ‘use your words y/n,’ he leans closer, ‘tell me i can touch you,’ his hand had dropped from my legs a moment ago but i can still feel the icy hot sensation as if they were still there.
‘Please,’ my breath hitches, ‘please touch me Felix.’
In an instant his hands are on my knees, parting them steadily. I feel my heartbeat quicken when he lets out a breath at the sight of me exposed.
‘You're so pretty y/n,’ he compliments, trailing his fingertips from my knee down my thigh.
He stops just as he gets to the place I need him most, making me let out a strained noise. At this moment i couldnt care less that this was Felix Catton touching me, i just needed him. His other hand, still on my knee, moves so it is on my jaw, his thumb rubbing over my bottom lip. The hand on my thigh moves further, his eyes on mine as he makes contact with my clit. I let out a breath when he begins moving in slow circular motions. As my mouth opens he takes the opportunity and puts his index and middle finger in my mouth.
‘Suck baby,’ he murmurs, still grazing his thumb over my clit in lazy circles.
I obey and begin coating his two fingers in saliva, sucking them like he had told me to. A moment later he is satisfied and trails the wet digits down my body til they are at my entrance. He lifts a brow, indirectly asking me for permission.
‘Please Felix,’ I beg, ‘I need you.’
I can practically feel how wet i am, ive never wanted a man to fuck me more than i want Felix Catton to fuck me right now. He moves the thumb from my clit and replaces it with his wet index finger, dragging it down to where I need him. He slowly inserts the finger and curls it when pulling out, brushing against my g-spot. I cry out in ecstasy. He adds his other finger, skillfully dragging them in and out of me. His thumb is back on my clit teasing me in a way that drives me crazy.
‘You're doing so well y/n,’ he praises, ‘you sound so good baby.’
My head is drawn back against the door, back arched and hands gripping at the hard floor. He picks up the pace, leaning down to capture my clit in his mouth. He sucks hard, tongue running over the sensitive bundle of nerves after a few seconds.
‘Fuck Felix i need more,’ i can feel him smirk against my wet cunt, ‘please,’ i beg.
He lifts his head and leans close to me, his lips wet, and kisses me. I can taste myself on his lips and it makes me want him so much more. The fingers inside me had been taken out and were now on either side of me, his stained pants brushing up against me. The friction was driving me insane, I pushed my hips towards the obvious bulge and grind against it. He moans against my mouth which spurs me to push further into him.
He pulls back, ‘you're killing me y/n,’ he states, out of breath., ‘tell me what you want.’
I bite my lip, suddenly self conscious, ‘you know what i want Felix,’ i look at him through my lashes, face flushed.
He leans closer, I can feel his hot breath on my face, ‘I do,’ he smirks, ‘but I want to hear you say it baby. I'm not going to touch you again until you do.’
My face heats up even more, the ache stirring between my legs getting harder and harder to handle. Felix sits back on his knees, face expectant.
"Come on baby, I know you can do it,’ he coaxes, hand reaching back out to stroke up and down one of my spread legs.
‘Fuck me Felix,’ i speak up after a moment, squeezing me eyes shut ‘please.’
He grins and begins to stand, pulling me up with him. He guides me towards the desk pressed up against the wall, backing me up on it til I have no choice but to sit on the edge. He's between my legs, hard dick strained against his grey sweatpants. My hands move to the waistband and one slips inside, my eyes lock with his and he urges me on with a nod. His black briefs are in view when I manoeuvre his pants away from his hips. He groans when I pull his briefs down and his dick is exposed to the cool air of the office. My cunt throbs in anticipation, many scenarios coming to light in my head. It seems my hands have a mind of their own when they begin working on his erection, they run up and down the almost seven inches of him. His head falls back when I lean forward and lick from the base to the tip, engulfing him in my mouth and swirling my tongue when I get back to the head. I hollow out my cheeks and begin sucking him as he lets out noises and words of praise. I take almost three quarters of him in my mouth before my eyes well up with tears and I begin to gag.
‘Fuck baby, youre doing so well,’ he moans out, ‘such a good girl.’
Heat pools in my lower stomach and my pussy gets impossibly wetter. I take his hard dick from my mouth with a pop, ‘fuck me Felix, i need you.’
He leans me back so I am propped up on my arms and spreads my legs further with his arms, hooking them around his waist. I feel him poke against my dripping cunt and I let out a shudder of bliss.
‘You ready?’ he questions, dragging himself along my pussy.
‘Yes,’ I replied almost instantly, the neediness of my voice coming out strongly.
He lines himself up and pushes inside of me slowly, allowing me to get used to his size. I let out a loud moan and shot up, putting both arms around his neck and dragging him down to my level. He mutters praises in my ear as he eases into me. After I adjust he pulls himself out slowly and pushes back in, setting a steady rhythm. My hands reach into his hair and I tug at it. His pace gradually speeds up, a finger back on my clit pushing me closer and closer to the edge.
‘Faster Felix, fuck, please go faster,’ im needy and he knows it.
He speeds up his thrusts and I feel like I'm going to combust at any moment. I feel the familiar feeling of an orgasm looming in the pit of my stomach, my moans become louder and I'm gripping onto Felix as hard as I can, absolutely losing myself.
‘Felix, I'm going to cum,’ I moan into his neck, his cock still driving hard and fast in my cunt and his finger still toying with my clit.
‘Come on baby,’ he coaxes, ‘cum for me.’
That is all it takes for me to finish all over him, calling out his name. He follows soon after, his thrusts becoming sloppier as my pussy clenches around his thick cock. He cums in me and only pulls out when both of our breathing steadies. I make eye contact with him and the only rational thought in my mind is to kiss him, and that is exactly what I do.
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
AN: i specifically wrote this for my best friend @lovandr 🧍‍♀️🧍‍♀️
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justmeinadaze · 5 months
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I Miss The Misery (Steve X You)
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"Just know that I'll make you hurt
(I miss the lies and the pain what you did to me)
When you tell me you'll make it worse
(I'd rather fight all night than watch the TV)
I hate that feeling inside
You tell me how hard you'll try
But when we're at our worst
I miss the misery."
A/N: From my previous post, I mentioned I've been feeling some type of way and every time I hear this song I think of mean Steve every time.
Warnings: Mean, Toxic Steve X Fem Slightly Toxic Y/N, SMUT of the rougher variety, public sex (bathroom, office), daddy kink (cause im me), smacking, choking, degrading (brat, whore), ANGST, some gas lighting from Stevie, he's definitely not a good guy, cheating (mentions of him cheating on her; reader cheats on bf), she talks about how his behavior excites her sexually but she's aware of how toxic that kind of thinking is. I think that's all.
Kind of inspired by an ex I had and the way he treated me. He bounced off of each other negatively and I remember telling my therapist that I thought the reason I kept going back to him was because "at least I feel something." I haven't seen him in 4 years so Yay for healthy relationships! :)
Doesn't mean we cant enjoy some toxic smut with Steve Harrington.
Word Count: 6317
“Hey, honey. Rough day?”, you coo at your boyfriend as he comes through the front door with a heavy elongated sigh. 
“Yeah. These assholes that bought our company are changing everything and it’s starting to piss me off.”, he grumbles while taking a seat at the dinner table as you crawl into his lap and kiss his temple. 
“You should say something. Tell your boss you’re sick of the changes and the disrespect. They need you and your team, baby.”
“Naw.”, he gently smiles as he hugs you tighter. “It’s fine. I’ll get over it.”
Smothering your own frustrated sigh, you grin as you kiss his lips before heading back to the kitchen to finish the meal you were making. You never understood your boyfriend’s passive aggression when it came to most things. Any time anything bothered him, he’d vent and stomp his feet but in the end, he did nothing. 
You had never dated a man like him before. Most of your past boyfriends were toxic to say the least but what they didn’t know was you were always trying to recreate a feeling someone from your past gave you. The feeling of being desperately needed to the point that they would break down a door to be with you. That passion that followed jealously or a fight that they most likely started but you definitely instigated. That feeling of being…alive. When you couldn’t find it in anyone else, you decided it was best to move on to something healthier. 
Jacob was a good person who doted on you hand and foot. If you had a bad day, he would hold you and if you just needed someone to talk to he was more than accommodating. When you two fought, if you could call it that, you could scream and be mean and all he would do is sigh and say things like “I understand why you would feel that way. I’ll try and be better.” When you two were intimate, he was incredibly vanilla, only ever being sexual in bed and usually missionary. The few times you tried to explain what you wanted, he never seemed to understand. 
“You want me to hurt you??”
“No…not exactly. I just want you to be…rougher. SHOW me how much you love me. MAKE me feel it.”
“You don’t think I show you enough how much I care about you?”
“No! I mean yes…I mean…Gah! Never mind.”
 “What’s, uh, what’s the name of the company that bought yours again?”, you ask as you grab a beer bottle from the fridge and pop it open. 
“Actually, babe, I was going to tell you. I did some research on them and it seems they originated in your hometown Hawkins. It’s a company called Harrington & Co.” The sound of glass shattering causes Jacob to jump up and immediately run to the kitchen where he finds you wide eyed with beer now swimming around your feet. “Oh my god. Are you okay?! Don’t move, you don’t have shoes. Let me clean this for you.”
“Harrington? Like Bill Harrington?”
“Yeah! I was going to ask if you knew them.”, he continues as he kneels down and begins to clean broken glass before wiping at the liquid. “Supposedly, from what I read, Bill Harrington retired and left it to his son Steven. Did you know him? He’s about your age.”
“Where the fuck have you been?!”
“What do you care, sire?! I’m not your fucking girlfriend remember?”
“That doesn’t stop you from coming to my house at fucking 2 am begging to ride my dick!”
Your hand flew across his face, his angry eyes glaring into yours when his head reels back. As you swing your arm to hit him again, his large palm catches your wrist and roughly pulls you to his chest.
“Let me go.”, you growl.
Leaning forward, his lips hover just above your own, feeling the slight wind of your heavy exhales that come from your nose.
“Make me.”
“No, I didn’t know him.”
#############
Sighing, you take shaky, anxious steps towards your boyfriend’s office building. When Jacob called saying he forgot his lunch, you debated on telling him you were busy with work stuff of your own before finally deciding to bring him his food. 
He owns the building. It’s not like he’s going to actually be in it 24/7. Plus, if he was he would definitely be on a different floor.
“Hey sweetie. Oh! Thank you so much.”, he grins as he kisses your cheek. “Do you want to sit with me while I eat? We can share or I can buy you something.”
“Yeah, sure. I’m not hungry but I can sit with you.”
Holding your hand, he walked with you to the building cafeteria and like any good girlfriend, you sat next to him listening to him tell you about the long trials and tribulations of his day. You smiled, nodding where you were supposed to and frowning at things he seemed annoyed with. After thirty minutes of his hour lunch, you desperately needed a break. 
“I’m going to go get a drink. I’ll be right back.”
Jacob smiled as you tilted down to kiss him before turning to head towards the area with drinks and food. As you stood there staring into the void of soda options, a strong cologne smell hit your nose that had you dizzy as your eyes fluttered closed. You’d know that smell anywhere, inhaling it so many times in the past. 
Steve smiles as he watches you walk around his room in one of his polos that hangs down your body like a nightgown, just barely covering the love bites and bruises from his fingers that were starting to form on your thighs. Lifting an expensive looking glass bottle to your nose, you grin to yourself as you inhale and put it back down. 
“I love the way that stuff smells.”
“Yeah. My dad says it’s a good smell for ‘classy men’.”, he chuckles.
“Hm. I guess he doesn’t know you very well.”
“Fuck you. I’m classy.”, Steve teases as his grin grows, yanking your arm so you fall on top of him as he folds his hands together behind your lower back. “Classy enough to land a pretty girl like you.”
“Y/N?” 
As you turn your head, your eyes lock with his slightly stunned honey-colored irises as they scan you up and down. You begin to feel slightly self-conscious in your leggings and regular t-shirt compared to his slick black suit and well styled hair.
“Holy shit. What…What are you doing here? Do you work here?”, Steve asks.
“Uh, no. My, uh, my boyfriend actually does.” You turn and point to where he was nonchalantly eating, not even looking in your direction. “What are you doing here?”
“My dad followed through and gave me his company. We finally expanded out of Hawkins so I bought this place.”
“Yeah, I heard. Congratulations.” His eyes continue to rake over you making you more and more anxious the longer you stood there. “Well, I better get back before his hour ends.”
A shiver ran up your spine as his hand reached out to grab your arm. 
“Wait. I’d like to talk to you some more and catch up. Do you want to meet me for dinner? I’m free tonight if you are.”
“Steve… I’m with someone. I can’t have dinner or anything else with an ex or whatever the fuck we were. I’m happy now.”
The smirk that painted his beautiful lips startled you as you stood up straighter.
“Oh your happy, huh? You should tell that to your face. That guy’s your boyfriend? Guy barely seems like he can get it up let alone satisfy a woman like you.”
“Define woman like me?”, you inquire sarcastically. 
“A strong, gorgeous woman who liked to be fucked hard and put in her place.” Steve’s eyes remain on you as your own widen as you look around hoping now one was close enough to hear his not-so-subtle tone. “Tell me, honey, does he know you called me Daddy? I imagine not because if you were my girl and I found out you ever called someone else that you wouldn’t be able to sit down for weeks.”
“Thank God, I’m not your fucking girl.”, you snarled. “You were never man enough to make that commitment.”
As you both stared daggers into each other’s eyes a sudden hand on your shoulder brings you back. 
“Baby, everything ok?”, your boyfriend asks way too calmly. 
“Yeah, Jacob, I’m fine. I was just introducing myself to the owner of your company.”
Steve’s eyes immediately softened as you watched him play the role he always played extremely well; charming and popular.
“Steve Harrington. Nice to meet you, Jacob. Y/N and I go way back.”
“Oh. I thought you said you didn’t know him, sweetie.”
Your ex’s eyes narrow in your direction in faux shock making you sigh in annoyance. 
“I didn’t know him. I knew OF him. Everyone knew who Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington was. Unfortunately, I wasn’t popular enough to penetrate his circle.”
“Hm, but I was to penetrate yours.”, he sassed with an arrogant confidence that just made you angry. 
“Nice seeing you again, Harrington. Come on, baby.”
Steve watches you both walk away with a determined gaze that you can feel burning into your back as you headed towards your table.
“He seems nice. What was he like in school? Do you remember?”
“You didn’t call me like you said you would.”
“I was busy, Y/N.”, he answers nonchalantly, not even meeting your eyes as he continues putting things in his locker. “I figured when you didn’t hear from me, you’d just fuck the next guy.”
“Jesus fucking Christ, seriously?! Steve, for some fucking reason I like you. I only want to be with you but it kills me when you don’t follow through with your promises. You say you’ll call and you don’t. You say we’ll go on an official date finally and then last minute you change plans but still call me to come over late at night so you can fuck me. It’s push and pull with you. You act like you want me but then you don’t. I can’t… I can’t keep waiting for you.”
Slamming his locker closed, he finally turns to face you with a look that said he really didn’t care. 
“Then don’t.”
“Yeah…I remember him. Steve Harrington was a complete asshole.”
##############
You managed to steer clear of Steve and anything having to do with him for a few months after your encounter with him until you couldn’t anymore.
“Baby, it’s an office party. Come on, we have to go.”
“Then go, Jacob, but I’d rather just stay here.”
“Y/N, you’re my girlfriend and this is important to me. Everyone I know will be there including clients. I want them to meet the woman I love.”
You can’t help but sigh at his statement from your place in the closet. You cared about your boyfriend, you genuinely did but love? That was big word with a big meaning. 
“FUCK YOU!”, you shout as you run out into the hallway and yank your arm away from Steve as he tries to stop you while buckling up his pants. “I’m so stupid. DON’T fucking touch me.”
Growling, he pushed you into another empty room and closed the door behind him as he continued to put his clothes back on. 
“Lower your fucking voice—”
“Yeah, wouldn’t want the entire party to know what an asshole you really are!” His hand tries to block your mouth but you angrily swat him away causing him to back up and hold his hands up defensively. “You TOLD ME that we could make this serious. That we would finally have a REAL relationship and then I find you here fucking Lori! Are you kidding me?”
“Y/N, I—”
“I told you I loved you, Steve. I’ve never said that to anyone!” Tears started to fall down your face as you hugged your arms around your body. “You’re never going to claim me, are you? You’re never going to call me your girlfriend. I was just another fuck buddy, wasn’t I?”
When he doesn’t respond, you shove his chest hard. 
“ANSWER ME!”
“YES! YES, OKAY?! Excuse me for not wanting to fucking hurt you. You knew what this was, honey. Its…It’s not my fault…you caught feelings.”
That night you ran. You told your parents you loved them, packed a small bag, and left Hawkins to Indianapolis swearing to yourself that this would never happen again. Ever since that night, you had been so numb to most emotions but especially ones that included romance. 
“Ok. Let me get ready and I’ll meet you downstairs. 
***
If you ran into Steve Harrington again, this time you would be ready. Wearing your shortest black dress and highest black heels, you strutted into Jacob’s office party with a demeanor that had everyone turning their heads. 
With a gigantic grin on his face, your boyfriend introduced you to people and showed you off the way you deserved. 
I should be enjoying this. What’s wrong with me? Why can’t I be normal!?
“Hey, baby, I’m going to run to the restroom.” 
After giving him a sweet kiss, you powerwalk to the girl’s bathroom and lean over the sink as you stare at yourself in the mirror. 
What’s wrong with me?
The door abruptly opens making you jump as you quickly pretend to be washing hands until a familiar aroma grabs your attention. 
“Steve! What the fuck are you doing?! This is the girl’s bathroom!”
“Pfft like that ever stopped me before.” His eyes hungrily drank you in as you did the same. In high school he always dressed well but it was rare you saw him in suits. Now you imagined he wore them all the time and they accentuated his body in a way that had your mouth watering. 
“I was watching you around the party with your boyfriend. You seem…sad.”
“Well, I’m not.”
“Hm. Who are you trying to convince? Me or you?”
“Fuck off, Harrington. Alright? I left you and Hawkins for a reason. Just give me some peace.”
“Yeah, you did leave. You didn’t even say goodbye.”, he replied with an undertone of anger you couldn’t quite fathom. 
“Oh, I’m sorry. When should I have done that? While you were fucking the school slut or after you told me you didn’t love me.”
“I didn’t say that. I never said I didn’t love you.”
“PLEASE! You said I should have known what our relationship was and it wasn’t your fault I caught feelings for you! What was I supposed to take from that?!”
“Do you think my dad would have let us be together?! A rich Harrington with a poor Y/L/N? This isn’t a fairy tale, Y/N!”
“Of course! Steve Harrington, always looking out for himself!”
“What did you want me to do?!”
“I WANTED YOU TO FIGHT FOR ME!”
The bathroom door swings open again and you quickly grab his arm, shoving him into an empty stall as a group of girls gather at the sinks. As you listen to them talk, your head hangs as your brain swims in memories of the past. 
You never cared that he was a Harrington or that he had a ton of money attached to his name. Even though you two had a lot of bad moments, to you, the good always outweighed them. Steve always knew how to make you laugh and smile (when he showed up). He would come over on Friday nights with a movie and some food (because he didn’t want to risk you both being seen). At night when he would sneak through your window (at 1am), you would lay on his chest and talk about everything you both could think of (after he fucked you like a whore). 
Fingers gently lifted your chin, tilting your head so your eyes could meet his. As a tear fell down your cheek, he tenderly wiped it away with his thumb before cupping your face with his hands. You closed your eyes as his lips kissed your forehead, slowly trailing them down to your nose, and hovering just above your own.
Closing the distance, you pulled his mouth to yours as your palms slid down his back, trying to bring him closer to your body. 
You never forgot the taste of his kisses but you were grateful for the reminder. 
After forcing open your legs with his knee, your dress hiked up a bit allowing him easier access to your panty covered core as his hand effortlessly pressed the silky materiel against your clit. Biting your lip to stifle the moan, you felt him smile as his mouth latched on to your neck. Your eyes rolled as his tongue licked your skin and his fingers moved your underwear out of the way so he could guide two of them into your entrance.
Steve’s elbow locked in place as your knees started to buckle, holding you against the tile wall as you clung to his shoulders. It took every ounce of energy you had to remain quiet as his digits curled inside of you. The girls outside of the stall continued to gossip, completely unaware that the owner of their company was about to make their coworker’s girlfriend come undone.
Leaning back to look at you, the tip of his nose lightly grazed yours as your mouth fell open in a silent moan. Nodding his head, his beautiful eyes were begging you for something he needed you to say. Something he hadn’t heard since you left and you hadn’t said to anyone but him. 
“Please…Daddy.”, you mouthed and without hesitation he gripped the back of your neck, pulling your head to his shoulder as he pumped his fingers faster into your cunt.
The bathroom door banged shut as the women left and a loud moan you had been holding on to echoed through the room as you reached down to grip his wrist, trembling against him as you came. Yanking you back, he crashed his lips to yours as your tongues mingled together. 
“Please…please…”, you whimper as you push at his hand.
“It’s been a while, huh? Since you’ve had something big inside of you.”, he teased, grinning when your breathily laughed. “God, I missed you so much. I thought about you every day for the past five years. I love you, honey.” 
Something in your look gave him pause as he scanned your face. 
“What?” Pushing him backwards, you threw open the door to the stall while adjusting your dress and quickly checking yourself in the mirror to make sure you looked at least how you did when you came in here. “Hey, talk to me. What’s—”
As he reached for your arm, you turned around and smacked his cheek.
“How dare you. You think after everything you put me through you can just walk back into my life and expect things to be how they were?! I’m in a healthy relationship for once. He doesn’t bail on dates or disappear when I need him. Jacob actually shows me off and tells people I’m his girlfriend that he loves! I don’t cry every night because of something he said or did! I don’t—”
“Have sex the way you want?”, Steve interrupted snidely. “You don’t actually have any fucking fun because he’s so fucking boring you just want to walk into traffic. He doesn’t challenge you or make feel needed. He doesn’t know how fucking numb you really are. Jesus…”, he snickers. “You’re definitely not the same girl that left me.”
“That’s right because you broke her fucking heart!”
“Does he know that you don’t love him?” You freeze by the door at his question. “Does he know that you, honey, are exactly like me whether you like it or not. There’s a reason you’ve thought of me every day to. That’s the same reason you’re afraid to leave him.”
“Our relationship…was toxic…”
Tilting his head to the side, he reached into his suit pocket, grabbing a pack of cigarettes, and lighting one between his teeth. 
“That may be but that also doesn’t change the fact that you and I, baby girl, thrive on that shit.”
Swallowing the lump in your throat, you shake your head before addressing him and turning to leave.
“Stay away from me, Steven.”
#############
“Oof.”, Jacob groans as he slinks out of his suit jacket and throws himself down on the sofa. “It was a long day. We have a big account that landed in our lap and even your friend has been staying late to help.”
“He’s not my friend.”, you mumble as you continue focusing on the sink in front of you. 
You hadn’t been able to shake Steve from your brain since the party. Hell, you hadn’t been able to shake him for the last 5 years. You thought about him constantly but knew he was bad for you. Part of what got you through the heartache was telling yourself that he wasn’t missing you; that he didn’t care at all where you were or if you were even happy. 
But here he was telling you the opposite. Was he lying or did he genuinely care? From the few interactions you had with him he still seemed exactly the same. God, why couldn’t you get the warm fuzzy feelings he gave you with someone healthy?! Why did you have to fall in love with him? Why did he rile you up and get you going but by doing the worst things. 
“Honey? Are you alright? You seem kind of—”
“I’m fine, Jacob. I’m just exhausted.”
His hand gently caressed your back as his chin rested on your shoulder. “I understand. Is there anything I can do?”
Angrily, you slammed the plate in your hand back into sink, lightly pushing him aside as you entered the living room and began to pace. 
“Baby, what’s going on?”
“Stop it.”
“Stop what?”
“STOP BEING SO FUCKING NICE TO ME!”, you shout as frustrated tears began to fall. “Why do you alwayshave to be so nice?”
“How else should I be, Y/N?”
“I don’t know! Fucking…tell me to stop being a bitch or raise your voice a little bit. Throw me against a wall and fuck me into submission.” 
“Y/N, I still don’t get it. You’re telling me you want me to hurt you?”
“NO! I just want you to stop being so fucking passive! Show a bit more passion! How can you live life like this!? If you’re angry just be fucking angry and then do something about it!”
Placing his hands on his hips, his eyes glance over you as if confused on how to proceed. 
“You know what? Um, fuck it. I’m sorry, honey. I just…I had a weird day and I’m taking it out on you.” Wiping your eyes, you hastily grab your jacket from the nearby closet, and sling it over your shoulders. “I’m just going to go for a drive.”
“Y/N, wait! It’s pouring!”
Shutting the door, you cut him off as you stand in the yard and let the rainwater hit your face. It had been so long since you felt amped up like this. Backing out of your driveway, you head to the one person you know will understand.
***
“Yeah? What? I’m busy.”
“Uh Mr. Harrington, there’s a young lady here that says she knows you and was wondering if she could come up to talk to you.”
“I see. Carl? Does the young lady have a name or are we just letting any random women into the building?”,Steve asked the security guard sarcastically through intercom that connected to the top two floors. 
“Um, Y/N Y/L/N.”
“Ok, send her up.”, he sighs almost as if he’s annoyed by your presence. 
You bounce anxiously in the elevator as you take the ride up to the top floor and as soon as the doors ding open, you power walk towards the lighted up office at the end of hall.
“Y/N.”, Steve exhales without looking in your direction. “I’m extremely busy so if this isn’t important then make it quick.” When his eyes finally land on your soaked, agitated frame, his whole demeanor shifted as he came around his desk and cupped your face in his hands. “Jesus Christ, honey. What the fuck is going on? Are you alright?”
Tilting up on your toes, you hungerly press your lips against his.
“Baby…Baby…hang on…Stop!”, he shouts sternly as he pulls you back. “Tell me what happened right now.”
“You said you missed me and that you loved me.”, you pant as you try to tug out of his grip. “I didn’t. I didn’t miss you at all. The only thing I ever loved about you was your dick, Harrington.”
His eyes narrowed as his head tilted trying to get a read on you. 
“Why are you lying, little girl? You’re not supposed to lie to me remember?”
“Said the liar. I bet you didn’t miss me either with all that pussy you were getting back at Hawkins.”
“I can get pussy and still miss yours. The only difference is I actually enjoyed fucking those gorgeous women. When’s the last time you were fucked properly?”
“Jacob can get the job done. Trust me.”, you sass. 
“Then tell me, baby, why are you here with me?”
“Because I’m an idiot! Maybe, I should go home.”
As you turned to leave, he roughly grabbed your arm, spun you around, and kissed you again. It was a rough kiss loaded with need as you both clung to each other, you a bit more desperately than him. 
“Where’s my girl? I want my Y/N.”, he snarled angrily as he pulled your hair back, tilting your face up to meet his. 
“I told you. She’s gone.”
“I don’t believe you.” Pushing you down onto your knees, he continues to hold you firmly as he unbuckled and unbuttoned his pants with one hand. “I think she’s still there. She’s just hidden behind this false facade of someone ‘normal’.” As his slacks fall to his ankles, his cock springs free, and you salivate at the sight as he pumps it slowly in front of your face. “But we aren’t normal, are we, baby?”
As you try to lean forward to take him into your mouth, Steve pulls on your hair harder forcing you back while leaning down till his face was just inches above your own. 
“Ah, see? There she is. Hidden right under there.” His tone is full of snark but his beautiful features remain stoic as he continues to glare down at you. “Come on, honey. Give me what you got.”
Rearing back, a glob of spit leaves your mouth and lands just above his nose.
“Fuck you, Steve Harrington. I hate you.”
Wiping his hand over his face, he collects your saliva and strokes it along his cock.
“Jesus, baby, your anger and attitude just really fucking get me off.” Lifting you off your knees, he pushes you onto his desk, tearing off your jacket and shirt before slamming your back against the wood as your head hangs over the other side. 
You try to get up but he’s faster, holding his palm against your chest as he comes around his desk. 
“You remember our word right, Y/N? I wouldn’t be surprised if you forgot it. I imagine you haven’t needed it with the extremely mundane almost tedious style sex you’ve been having over the years.”, he chuckles, laughing at his own snark as you pout angrily beneath him. “DO you remember?”
“Yes I fucking remember!”
The palm on your chest slides easily up your skin and takes hold of your throat.
“Yes, you remember what?”
“I remember our safe word.”
Rolling his eyes, he lets you go just long enough to slap your cheek hard before holding you down again. 
“Yes, WHAT?!”
“YES, DADDY, I REMEMBER OUR FUCKING WORD!”
Steve’s hand moves behind your head, holding you up slightly as his leaking tip touches your lips, exhaling heavily when your tongue darts out to lick his slit and you moan at the taste of him. Opening your mouth wider, you allow him to push his cock in till he promptly hits the back of your throat making you gag. 
“That’s it, baby, take it like a good girl.”
Thrusting his hips, you flatten your tongue allowing him to use you as he pleases. Abruptly, the phone blares on his desk startling you but annoying him as he angrily grunts at the device. 
“God fucking damn it. Can’t have one fucking moment. Don’t move.”, he growls as he leans over to pick up the receiver. “Yeah, this is Harrington.” His long fingers grip your hair tighter as his cock subtly slides between your lips unable to remain still as your wet, slobber filled mouth warms him. 
“Seriously? This is why you called at 10pm? We have it covered. I have faith in the employees here.”
Even though his voice remained relatively calm despite what was happening, you knew him well enough to know he was using all his energy to do so. Deciding to rile him further, your hand reached up above you and gently massaged his balls the way you knew drove him crazy back in school. 
“Look, stop panicking. I-I-I…” You smiled in triumph as Steve stuttered over his words. “Fuck. No not you. Clark, just…just tell my dad to calm the fuck down. I haven’t run his company into the ground yet and I don’t…don’t plan on doing it any time soon.”
Slamming the phone back on the hook, he grips the side of your head with both hands as he thrusts his hips at a faster pace. 
“Did you think that was funny, little girl?! Did you think it was funny watching me squirm?” Holding you still, he stops moving when he feels your nose against his sack, grunting as your throat constricts around him. “That’s it, you fucking brat. Choke on it.”
Pulling himself all the way out, he allows you to collect air and watches with pride as the tears streak down your face. Once he feels like you’ve had enough of a break, he shoves his cock back down your throat, holding you still as you gag and drool around him. 
A frustrated sigh leaves his lips as he tugs you off him and walks around to the other side of the desk while shuffling off his pants as he unbuttons his shirt. 
“Come here, baby.”
As you fully sit up, you raise your hips so he can aggressively yank down your pants with your panties. Bringing you towards the edge of his desk, he falls to his knees, and puts your cunt on display for himself as he uses his fingers to hold open your puffy lips. 
“Fuck, sweetheart. I missed this pussy so much. You always smelled so fucking good.” You moan as Steve’s nose grazes your clit and his tongue licks between your folds. “Shit. And you tasted so fucking delicious to.”
His head falls between your legs and your fingers tangle in hair as he devours you like you were his last meal. The obscene sounds of slurps and his tongue flicking in and out of your core has you clenching tightly around him as your eyes roll to the back of your head. 
“Please, don’t stop, Steve. Oh my god.”, you whine. 
As your hips start to buck against him, his strong hands hold you down forcing you to stay still. You continue petting his head, occasionally tugging on his fluffy, soft strands making his groan reverberate through you. 
The phone beside you blares loudly again and he grunts in agitation as he gets to his feet, grabbing the cord to yank it from the wall. 
Taking his place between your legs, you both moan as he runs his mushroom tip along you slit and rests his forehead on yours.
“Beg me, Y/N. Tell me how bad you want my cock that you love oh so much and not me.”
“Please, Steve, I need—”
His palm around your throat cuts you off.
“No, little girl. Remember? You don’t care about me anymore. You don’t give a fuck about Steve Harrington. All you want is my dick right? Well, honey, this dick belongs to Daddy so beg him.”, he growled causing your breath to hitch. 
“Please, Daddy. I’m sorry. I need you to fuck me. I need to feel you fill me up.”
“Do you think you deserve it?”
“No.”, you whisper, your answer intriguing him as his head shifts to the side. “But I need it.”
Your hands run up his chest till you reach his neck, clinging to him as he slowly guides himself inside of you. You mouth dropped open in the shape of an O as he gradually pumps his hips, pushing himself deeper into your heat. 
“God damnit, Y/N, how long has it been? Your pussy isn’t used to a big cock anymore is she? You’re so fucking tight.”
“Still s-so cocky.”
Steve chuckles lightly, his head hanging as he bottoms out. 
“Still a fucking brat.”
Gripping both your thighs, he pulls back before thrusting his length hard inside of you, practically punching the air from your lungs. Falling flat onto his desk, he finds a steady pace that leaves the two of you panting and moaning.
Leaning his upper body over yours, his lips kiss yours sloppily as your tongues dance together.
“Fuck, baby girl, no one has ever taken my cock as well as you.” His face falls into the nook between your neck and shoulder as he bites at the flesh. “This pussy was made for me, Y/N.”
“Harder, Daddy.”
Taking hold of you, he lifts you off his desk and places you on the floor, lifting one of your legs over his shoulder as he pounds into you.
“Like that, honey? Yeah. Daddy knows. Daddy can take care of you.” With one hand clinging to your leg for leverage, he utilizes his other to bring his thumb to your clit making you whimper as his cock abuses your g-spot. “Cum, pretty girl. Cum all over my dick.”
Perching yourself up on your elbows, your eyes lock with his giving him more determination to push you over that ledge. When you do finally fall, he grunts at the feeling, fucking you through it as his thumb moves faster against you. 
“Atta girl. Fuck me. Your pussy won’t stop pulling me in. You really needed Daddy, huh, baby?”
Shakily your hand grabbed his wrist, silently begging him to stop and to your surprise he did, bringing his palm up to caress your cheek. Focusing on his own pleasure, he slammed into you so hard that you knew you would be sore tomorrow. 
Falling flat against your body, he rolled his hips a few more times before warming your insides with his release. 
The two of you laid together quietly for a few moments until he finally rolled on to his back. Sneaking a glance your way, Steve noticed you were trembling and sat up to grab his jacket off the floor where he had tossed it to place it over your body like a blanket. 
“Thank you.”, you murmur as you bring it up closer to your neck. 
“For the jacket or the sex?” As you turn your head to look at him, he does the same. “That’s what you came here for right? Because I know it wasn’t for me. I guaran-God damn-tee if your boyfriend or any other guy fucked you the way I did, you’d be with them right now.”
“You’re right.” Steve huffed as he fully sat up and leaned against the sofa he had in his office. “What do you want me say, Harrington? I tried for two years to get you to claim me and every time you pushed me away.”
“And every time you still came back.”
“So that gave you license to treat me like garbage?!”
“No! I’m just… I’m just saying there’s a reason for that.”
“Yeah and not a good one. Steve…what we have…had… yeah the sex is amazing but everything else is unhealthy. The missed dates, angry calls, the fighting, the fucking cheating… we are toxic.”
He sighs heavily before giving you his full attention.
“Yeah, well, if we’re toxic then I’d rather go down with you than anyone else.” Shaking your head, you get to your feet as you quickly grab your clothes and start to put them on. “I know you feel the same, Y/N, or else you wouldn’t be here. You like all that bullshit because at least you’re feeling something other than fucking boredom. Trust me, I tried to. I tried doing the healthy ‘normal’ thing. I wanted to fucking gouge my eyes out by the end of the day. It took me awhile to realize that all the women I was with including her… I just kept wishing they were you.”
“This was a mistake. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have—”
“No, no, no, no, honey. Please, trust me. I feel like we can make this work.”
“Well, I don’t.”
Backing away from you, he folded his arms as he leaned against his desk. You knew this look very well, always referring to it as “the shutdown”. His wall was going up which means he was going to make this situation as complicated as possible.
The butterflies in your tummy fluttered in anticipation at the notion.
Why am I like this? Why can’t I be normal?
“Ok, Y/N. We can play this game but just remember, little girl, I’m way better at it than you.”
############
@daysinthephoenix @sophiejayne-illustrations713
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apocalypseornaw · 5 months
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Real or Not (Pt 2/5)
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Dean Winchester x Female Reader
Just as you're beginning to feel like you overreacted the biggest challenge yet gets thrown your way
@lacilou s idea
You sang lightly along with your Playlist, Kaleo cranking through the Bluetooth speaker you'd hooked your phone up to as you worked through the stack of lore books the boys had stored in the small room just outside of the "dungeon" as they called it. They'd gone on a supply run into town and despite Dean asking you to tag along you'd chosen to instead stay behind at the bunker.
A couple weeks had passed since that day you'd overheard him and Sam talking about Camila. You'd been more careful of announcing your presence coming into rooms hoping to not walk into the middle of any more reminiscing. A part of you hoped Dean hadn't noticed any change in you while another part of you was nearly desperate for him to notice, to soothe your worries.
You let out a louder sigh than you'd meant to, noticing the legal pad in front of you was still blank despite the fact that you'd come in here with intentions to gather more information for the hunters journals you and Sam had been compiling to make assisting other hunters easier. "That thing say something bad to you? Cause I'll kick its ass" your eyes flew up to where Dean was now leaned against the doorframe watching you.
A small smile slipped onto your face "How long you been there?" He shrugged "Long enough to see that you looked like someone kicked a black kitten in front of you" you tried to look genuine when you said "Nothings wrong Dean" he nodded slowly "You sure?" "Of course" he smiled before walking closer, leaning down to press a quick kiss to your lips he tapped his knuckles against the legal pad before playfully saying "You hurt my girl's feelings again I'll set your ass on fire" you laughed despite yourself. Why were you worried when here he was threatening an inanimate object for you?
Yet again you found those three little words warming your lips begging for escape and yet again you choked them back down denying them the freedom to be released into the world. You did love Dean, you were in love with him but you wouldn't say it first. Take away the doubts lingering in your mind you knew him well enough to know the man didn't commit often, you were one of few lasting relationships and wasn't about to say it first just to freak him out.
You realized you were staring at him and felt the tips of your ears warm. Why you weren't sure considering you shared a bed with him and had for a while now. A smirk slipped onto his face before he said "Don't be shy sweetheart. You can feel free to check me out whenever you want, I'm all yours" your head flipped in your chest.
"I just fed your ego even more didn't i?" You teased and shrugged "Maybe just a little" you laughed and shook your head before pushing back from the table and grabbed his hand "Cmon I need a break. I'll help you and Sam put everything away"
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You were beginning to think you'd simply over reacted to the mention of Camila. You had a few exes that you ended on good enough terms with that you still spoke to them occasionally and would back them up if need be on a hunt. While it was true none of them came near holding a candle to Dean you had cared about a couple of them.
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You hissed lightly when Sam touched the ragged slice across your arm. Fucking ghouls, you hated the little scavengers. "Easy Y/N" he comforted, the antiseptic cold as he applied it to your wound.
Dean looked up from across the room, the slice across his cheek somehow added to his looks. It wasn't fair he always looked amazing, even when he was bloody "Sweetheart I haven't seen someone take down ghouls that fast in a while" you grinned slightly "Coming from one of you two I'll take that as a compliment"
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Once Sam was through throwing a couple stitches in your arm he placed a bandage over it and smiled over your shoulder at you "all patched up" you nodded "Thanks Sam" He wished you and Dean goodnight then headed for the door that connected the two motel rooms you'd gotten.
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Normally the three of you would just drive back to the bunker but considering you'd had to make the drive down to New Orleans to help a coven with their ghoul problem it had been a unanimous decision to crash halfway back for the night.
When you suggested just getting one room Sam had shook his head "No, I am not risking waking up to the sight of you and Dean being handsy with each other" you had ducked your head from embarrassment but Dean had simply shrugged "She's gorgeous, what can I say?"
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Once the door shut behind Sam, Dean raised an eyebrow at you "What's that look about dee?" You asked and he shrugged "Just thinking you'd be a lot more comfortable out of those jeans"
You felt a smirk slip onto your face "Oh really?" You held his eyes as you unzipped your jeans and pulled them down your legs, kicking them behind you. A smile worked across his face as he took a step towards you "Now let's get you out of that shirt and bra"
You laughed as he reached for the hem of you shirt "So I'd be more comfortable naked?" He caught your lips in a hungry kiss before saying "Yeah, you would but don't worry I'm gonna get comfortable with you"
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When you woke up Dean was curled up to your back, his warm breath hitting your neck with every slow exhale as he slept. Your arm wasn't that sore considering although some other body parts were after the night before. A warmth spread through your stomach and lower at the memory of Dean's lips on your body, the way his hips had rolled into yours both of you clinging to each other, a solid chorus of moans mixed with the skin meeting had filled the room.
As if he could hear your thoughts Dean started to stir behind you, his lips finding your neck "What you thinking about?:" you smiled, leaning back into him "A gorgeous guy" he murmured against your skin "Lucky asshole" before his hands began to roam lower on your body.
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You'd just gotten out of the shower and was getting dressed when you heard Sam's voice in the other room talking to Dean. You caught a few words like "Gotta talk to Y/N"
You quickly got dressed and brushed your hair before heading into the main part of the motel room. Both Winchesters snatched their heads towards the sound of the door opening "What's wrong?" You asked and they exchanged a look "A hunter nearby called for an assist" Dean said matter of factly so you nodded "Ok, what's the case?"
They exchanged another look before Sam said "Thinking changling" you groaned inwardly, the last case had been horrible. "Let's get on it. Who is it?" With one final look exchanged between the boys Sam finally said "Camila"
@lacilou
@saranghaey
@stoneyggirl2
@marimarvelfan
@roseblue373
@suckitands33
@backtotheshitshow
@jackles010378
@badassbitch-21
@leigh70
@diagnosedpsychosis
171 notes · View notes
chasedbyatlantic · 3 months
Text
puppy love, joel miller
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summary: IN WHICH — when joel is upset, you do anything and everything in your power to cheer him up. this means showing him your new guitar skills, while singing one of his favourite songs to him.
warnings: post outbreak!joel, jackson!joel, implied relationship, gender!neutral reader, sub!joel, lovey dovey joel and reader, ellie being a little shit once again, swearing, literally all fluff because i can, brief mention of death/killing (very very brief! shows up like two times), bad descs of guitar playing since i haven't played in like 10 years LOL, lmk if i missed anything!
wordcount: 2.3k
a/n: my second fic!!!!! i sort of love this one?? also tysm for the love on my first! looking for moots too! hmu if you wanna <3 make sure to reblog, like, and comment on this plz and thank u! if u have any requests for a fic lmk (dms r open for it!) more to come soon xoxo
God only knew what time it was. You had an infuriating day at work, training all new people on how to successfully patrol Jackson's surrounding areas, and how to not- well, die. This was always your least favourite time of year, to say the least. All the "fresh meat" had been selected to be potential patrolers, and they had to go through extensive training to make sure they were one hundred percent qualified and committed to the role.
Both you and Joel were practically put into this role by Maria (Joel's sister-in-law), not by force, but more of a "you would be doing the entire Jackson community a whole favour if you did this" sort of thing - guilt, most would say. Maria had even tried to get Ellie to help train people, but Joel almost killed Maria by his glare when she brought it up to the two of you.
Even though you hated this role in the community, you think Joel liked it. He had a bit too much fun getting to put kids in check, and humble them big time. At least it was only for a few months, you had kept reminding yourself. The few months were from early June until late September, though - the hottest months of the year. The before dawn wake up calls, and after dusk ends would only last for another month, since it was sometime in the middle of August right now.
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After getting home extremely late, around an hour or two ago, you had already taken a shower and changed into more comfortable clothes before you went and sat on your back porch. Even though you didn't want to be outside anymore than you had to right now, Ellie had one of her friends over and wanted privacy. You love the kid, so you gave her the privacy (not much privacy, only hanging out in the living room of your home).
You were able to tell Joel was finished with his shower when you heard high-pitched and muffled screams coming from inside the house behind you. Just as you went to turn your head around to see what exactly the commotion he was causing inside was, the familiar figure of Joel Miller left the glass door, with the door slamming shut behind him. "Everything alright in there, cowboy?" You hummed to him as the nickname rolled off your tongue, scooching over on the step you were seated on to give the man some room to sit.
"Fucking Christ," He started as he took a seat next to you, "they were paintin' their nails, or somethin'. Said I wasn't allowed anywhere near 'em in that room, or they'd be off with me." Joel had grunted once he was completely lowered on this step, his bones weren't as good as they used to he would say.
This earned a snort from you, "No way- Ellie's paintin' her nails? Your girl's really growin' up, Joel." You couldn't believe she was doing this, to be honest. Ellie had stated to both you and Joel that she was not girly whatsoever, and would rather turn into a clicker than wear a dress or do her makeup. After you had said this to Joel, he looked to be upset. He didn't want Ellie growing up, his girl growing up. "Joking, joking."
He took his eyes off of you, and moved them forward. "Nah, you're right," Joel had sighed, "she won't need me soon. Soon she'll-" He had trailed off, quiet now. Fuck- why did you bring this up, you had thought to yourself. You could only place your hand on Joel's thigh. "She'll always need you, Joel. Shit, she'd be death without ya'. Lighten up a bit baby, she ain't going anywhere."
Joel knew it was true, he was just having a really emotional moment right now, it was most likely from being up since five in the morning. "Dunno 'bout that." He had only muttered, placing his hand over yours. You tsked, putting some pressure on his thigh as you got up in an awkward fashion. "Where are ya'-"
"I have an idea, hold on." You had cut him off, making your way back inside. You were engulfed by the sounds of laughter as soon as you stepped foot through the patio door. You were silent about it, not wanting to bother Ellie or her friend. You had silently moved to the house's spare room, where the three of you put anything and everything. You had grabbed what you were looking for almost instantly (it had a distinct shape) and made your way back outside.
Joel turned his head once you had stepped outside again, his eyes moving down to what you had in hand, then gaining eye contact. "Is that my-" he couldn't even finish his sentence. You grinned as you pulled the lawn chair over, placing the case on the floor and unlatching the sides. You had picked up the piece of polished wood and string and placed the curved part on top of your knee.
"Okay so," You had started as Joel turned around to give you his full attention. He looked handsome like this- more than handsome, actually. The way the dull light from inside of your home highlighted his face almost perfectly- ugh, you couldn't get enough of it. "From all of the, sort of, free time I have had in the last few months, I decided to sort of, really badly, learn a few songs?" It came out more of a question than it did a statement, and Joel took notice of this with only a laugh in return.
"Anything ya' play'll be gorgeous, baby." Joel could only look at you in complete awe; if he didn't love you one hundred percent before, he sure as fuck did now. Instead of sitting down, Joel stood up and was now leaning against the wooden beam behind him. He towered over you, only inches away- this got you on even more of an edge.
"Okay, please don't kill me if I don't get the chords right- I don't think I read the notes properly." You awkwardly chuckle as you avoid eye contact with Joel at the current second. Joel knows a guitar from the inside-out, but even if you messed up, he would not care at all. You took the time to learn his favourite instrument, and this only put him in an ecstatic mood.
"Pick a number one through three." You told him as you move your left hand up the neck, and your right arm drooped over the body. "Three." He replied almost too fast, he was just so eager to hear you play.
You brought your fingers through the strings before you started, making sure it was in tune. You glance up towards Joel, "It's in tune, right?" You ask him. A chuckle escapes his lips as he nods, "Don't worry baby, it is."
You (unfortunately) tore your eyes apart from Joel's as you focus on both your left and right hands now. Multitasking was hard for you before this, so you struggled a bit to play. You inhale slowly, placing your fingers on the top three strings on the fingerboard. You strum from both left and right, meeting to the middle string as the first chord.
"And they called it puppy love," your voice was quiet and sounded more hoarse than relaxed, which you mentally slapped yourself for. Before hounding yourself about it even more, you had to focus on changing the chords another four times as you repeated the strumming rhythm.
"Oh, I guess they'll never know," There wasn't any moving, or talking, or breathing (from the sound of it) from Joel. He was just- mesmerized, mesmerized by what you had been doing with your fingers, with your voice, with everything. If the world hadn't gone to shit, you most definitely would've had a big breakout as an up-and-coming music star, he had thought to himself.
"How a young heart, how it really feels, and why I love him so," You had changed the lyrics, and Joel noticed - you changed "her" to "him". Honestly, Joel only noticed because it was you singing it (and he loved you deeply), and that whenever he would spend time with his grandfather when he was little, this song was played a million times. Had he ever told you about his love for this song, or was it just a coincidence?
"And they called it puppy love," You repeated yourself, emotion starting to seep through your voice. "Just because we're seventeen," If you weren't so lost in your train of thought, of remembering where to put your fingers for the next chord, and the correct strumming pattern, and the lyrics, you would've noticed Ellie and her friend silently sneak out onto the porch.
"Tell them all, it isn't fair. To take away my only dream," You had paused strumming for a single second, it sounded like a dramatic pause in Joel's eyes. You had just completely lost your breath from a combination of singing and nerves. After the (painfully long, you thought) second was over, you started once again.
"I cry each night, my tears for you. My tears are all in vain," The chord pattern you had going changed for the last time, and your strums started to sound quiet, your voice dying out while all of this happened. Joel took notice of this, standing up completely now (from leaning against the wooden beam behind). The two girls behind you were still so silent, almost just as mesmerized with you as Joel was.
"Oh, I'll hope and pray, that maybe someday," You inhale as your thumb starts to brush down from the highest string to the lowest string, "You'll be back in my arms once again." A loud exhale falls through your mouth, followed by the two girls bursting out with clapping and compliments. This does nothing short than scaring the absolute fuck out of you, causing the guitar to slip out of your grip.
Luckily, with Joel being completely focused on you, he had came to the rescue and snatched the guitar before it had fell on the ground. You shoot him an apologetic look before turning around to the two girls, he just looks at you with understanding eyes. "You guys almost made me drop the fuckin' thing- how long were you there for?" You question them, eyeing between the two. Their clapping hands were now silent and playing with their thumbs, almost nervous from you.
"Ya' know what, it doesn't matter. Inside- go, it's bedtime." You had scolded the two, as if you were their mother. Ellie's friend had opened her mouth to say something, but was cut off by Ellie gripping her hand and yanking her back inside. You start to turn back to face Joel, after snapping. "Fuck, we can never have a minute of fuckin' sile-".
He cut you off by smashing his lips into yours. He was acting as if though he was touch deprived, if he hadn't seen you for years. You two just move in sync for what feels like forever (not that you're complaining, though), before you pull away.
Before you have the chance to say anything, Joel brings you to your feet and sets the guitar down on your previous seat, embracing you in a tight hug. You can feel his rough facial hair on the exposed parts of your neck as he exhales, you definitely don't mind. "I needed that more than anythin', darlin'." He admits to you.
"Anythin' for my favourite person." You remind him, bringing your hand to the back of his head. It was true, you would do anything for this man. You would steal for him, kill for him, anything he wanted.
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The sun was threatening to peak through the moonlit skies, you knew you two had to be up and about soon enough, but that didn't stop you. You were laying in bed together, tangled between each other's arms. The covers were kicked off your shared bed, and a small breeze cruising the room every so often from the open windows.
"I think it's true." You had broken the comfortable silence that filled the room. Joel didn't move from his position (half of his body on you), just hummed with his eyes staying shut. "What is, baby?"
"The song- fuck, I don't want to sound cheesy or nothin'." You admit, before continuing, "You just, ya' know, I love you's all." You send a small squeeze through Joel's hand, that vibrates his entire body. This results in him dropping your hand and lifting it to wrap around your chest. "Nothin' cheesy 'bout that." His voice was even more hoarse than when you had lost your fears of singing in front of someone, in front of Joel. You now went silent, just loving his embrace.
"Darlin'?" He now broke the silence after a minute or two, eyes still shut and not moving whatsoever. You gave a hum in response, just like he did earlier. "Ya' said to pick a number between three before ya' played earlier, were the other options real?" This was your favourite, vulnerable Joel.
"It was, and before you ask-" you pause, bringing your hand to the back of his head, just like earlier. You ran your fingers through his restless curls. "-I'll play the rest for ya'. Promise." Joel had obviously liked this answer, as he responded with a sloppy kiss to your collarbone.
You would learn every lyric in the world, every chord in the world, every strum in the world, just for Joel to be happy. You didn't want anything more in this world than for him to be happy. If he was happy, so were you.
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puppy love, paul anka
97 notes · View notes
punkshort · 9 months
Text
Chapter warnings: angst, smut, language, violence
Chapter Seven
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Pairing: Joel x F!Reader, pre-outbreak and post outbreak
AU (the only thing I kept was the outbreak, Joel, and Tommy's characters. Joel's backstory is different, and the way he finds Jackson is different. I may include Ellie one day, I just haven't planned that far)
Fic Summary: You worked for Joel and Tommy a few months before the outbreak. The outbreak happens, and you and Joel get stuck traveling the country and keeping each other safe. Neither of you spoke about the feelings you had for one another pre-outbreak, and in a post-apocalyptic world, it seems like survival should be your only focus. But feelings can't be ignored forever.
Fic tags: Explicit Smut (18+ MDNI), Smut, Language, Canon-Typical Violence, Alcohol Use, Age Difference (Reader is 10 years younger than Joel), slow burn, mutual pining, angst, trauma, SA referencing later but I will put a big warning on those chapters
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You were able to sneak out of the QZ fairly easily, the soldiers were preoccupied with new truckloads of survivors, and they were running around trying to create more sleeping accommodations in classrooms and hallways. Joel led you alongside the school and into the cover of a small forest before anybody could question you. You didn’t speak or slow down until you were about 2 miles away from the school, still primarily surrounded by trees, but they were thinning out, revealing shops and roads in the distance.
“Joel, stop, let’s rest for a few minutes, please,” you panted, struggling to keep up with his long gait on the uneven terrain.
Surprised to hear your voice, he turned to look over his shoulder at you. He had been in such a trance to lead you both away from the school that he wasn’t even sure what direction you were headed. He nodded in agreement. He was tired and hot, still in the same work clothes from Friday.
“Yeah, let’s go sit down, looks quiet here.” Joel motioned to a big, flat rock nearby, and the two of you sat down on it, setting your purse and supplies down and sipping on the water bottles you were grateful you had grabbed before leaving the QZ. You sat next to each other in silence, catching your breath and looking around at the nature surrounding you.
“What are we doing, Joel?” you asked him quietly. You were all too fully aware you were following this man blindly into a world full of danger. Just a week ago, you had such a different relationship with him, one that was heading in a direction that made you feel excited and hopeful. You were still reeling from the shock of his harsh words on his birthday, unable to fully process what happened that day in his office. Still, you had no idea what caused him to run out of the building after you, what he wanted to say, but you hated to admit that you were grateful. Who knows where you would be if Joel hadn’t yelled at you, making you quit and leave the building. Who knows where you would be right now if you were alone when those soldiers started shooting. In some twisted way, you owed Joel your life. He was all you had now, you had to trust him.
“Well, I suppose we try to find your family,” Joel said, leaning back to lay flat on the rock and closed his eyes as he continued. “At least, we gotta get out of this city, it’s not safe. That guy at the QZ told me this infection is all over, but maybe it ain’t as bad in other places.”
“What else did he say to you?” you asked, turning to look down at him now. His eyes were still closed, his face looked relaxed but the bags under his eyes reminded you he was up early this morning.
Joel paused for a moment. He knew what you were asking, but he wasn’t sure how to tell you. He kept his eyes shut when he finally spoke.
"He told me bad stuff was happenin’ to women there, women who were alone.”
Your suspicions were right. He stood guard over you while you slept, what else could it have been? You sighed, looking down at the half empty water bottle in your hands. Joel has been saving you over and over again for the past 5 days while you were still hung up on some stupid argument. It all felt so trivial now, when the focus was simply survival.
You reached your hand out and lightly squeezed his own, trying to thank him when words didn’t seem like enough. He opened his eyes now and looked at you staring at your coupled hands, giving your hand a light squeeze in return.
"What now?" you asked, letting his hand go. Joel sighed and sat back upright.
"Well, we gotta get some supplies. Couple of backpacks, some food, clothes, all that. I’m thinkin’ we gotta leave on foot, a car would be too loud, FEDRA will stop us. We can try to make it back to my place in the city for some stuff, but it’s far, maybe 10 minutes from the office.”
Something Joel said gave you an idea.
"I have backpacks! At my apartment, hiking backpacks, two of them. And some other things. My place is further out, it probably won’t take us too long, I live kind of far from work… lived,” you corrected yourself, frowning, “I just can’t tell where we are, maybe if we can get to those stores over there, we can see what street that is.”
Joel nodded. “Alright, good, you ready to go?”
You jumped off the rock and picked up your purse, stuffed with the items from the QZ, and both headed in the direction of the strip mall. You emerged from the thinning forest to find a playground with a baseball diamond and a soccer field. As you cautiously made your way through the open field, Joel stopped at the baseball diamond to grab you each a bat from a pile left on home plate. You took it from his outstretched hand, the thought of weapons to defend yourselves having not even crossed your mind yet. You were not adapting to this disaster as quickly as you would like. Joel had been the one to find shelter, the one who recognized when an area was unsafe, the one who formulated a plan. You scolded yourself for not being more aware of your surroundings... this was life or death. At least you had Justin’s old camping supplies still housed in your tiny apartment, that was useful. You just had to get there in one piece.
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It took half the day to walk from the strip mall to your apartment building, taking extra time to be quiet and go unseen. Once you reentered the city, you could see Joel tense up as he gripped his baseball bat tightly by his side. Your building was not too far into the city limits, and you managed to make it there without being spotted.
Joel gently closed the lobby door behind you, turning around to see the room was empty, save for a few abandoned duffel bags and some trash. You led him towards the stairwell door, closing it quietly, listening for any movement above before slowly beginning your ascent.
“What floor?” Joel whispered behind you.
“Two,” you answered just as quietly, “but I am on the other end of the hall.”
“You’re on the second floor? D’you know how dangerous that is? Anyone could climb up and break in.”
You paused before opening the door marked with a big number 2, turning to look at Joel incredulously as he finished his climb up the stairs.
"There’s monsters running around eating people and you’re lecturing me about what floor my apartment is on?” you asked, eyebrows raised.
He looked at you for a moment, considering your words, and smirked.
"Yeah, well, when you put it like that," he said.
You knew it was a serious situation and people were dying. Hell, you could die at any moment. But you allowed a smile to spread across your face, only barely holding back a laugh. Joel’s smirk turned into a bigger smile at the sight of yours, hiding a small chuckle. You rolled your eyes, still grinning, and reached out to open the door before he stopped you.
"Let me go first,” he said, moving in front of you with his bat at the ready.
He pushed the door open just enough so he could see down the hall. It was empty, but there were several apartment doors that were either cracked or wide open. He listened intently for any movement that might indicate you weren’t alone. When he was satisfied, he opened the door wider, allowing you both to squeeze through and then softly closed the door. Without speaking, you pointed down the hall towards the right side, and with your fingers you held up a 2, 2, and 3, telling him which one was yours. He nodded in understanding and led the way slowly down the long hallway.
Joel stopped before every open door and peeked inside each apartment before moving down to the next one, being extra cautious of any infected. Neither of you had seen one up close yet, you had no idea what to expect, but you heard them when you were running down the street. They sounded like feral animals the way they screamed and snarled as they attacked. You shuddered at the thought, but at least you would hear them coming.
Joel paused when he heard someone walking, and then heard a repeated thudding sound. You both froze in place, listening and trying to locate the source. It sounded like it was coming from the floor above you, so you both continued until you reached the door that read 223. You dug into your purse and pulled out your keys, grateful to find that the door was still locked. Again, Joel insisted on sticking his head in first and clearing the place before you entered, gently shutting and locking the door behind you.
You looked around your small apartment, everything left exactly as it was Friday morning. You had a small loveseat and an accent chair surrounding your TV in the living room, behind the loveseat was your equally small kitchen with a table for two. Your bedroom door was off the kitchen, and the bathroom had a door right where you had walked in but was also connected to your bedroom through a second door. It was very small, but you made it work, you had just been so happy to have your own space.
Joel looked around thoughtfully. These were not the circumstances in which he had hoped to see your place for the first time. You chewed your lip as he looked around your apartment, admiring your framed photos and your knick-knacks. He looked so big and out of place amongst your modest apartment, filled with secondhand furniture and mementos from your past. You reached down to pick up the backpack you had tripped over on Friday morning, setting it up against the wall while you opened the extremely small accordion door that gave way to a tiny coat closet. You reached inside and grabbed the second backpack, setting it next to the first, and lastly picked up the two tightly rolled up sleeping bags that were never reattached to the packs.
He turned and saw the supplies against the wall, excitedly walking over to open one up and examine it more closely.
"I didn’t realize you liked camping, we can really use most of this," he said, his focus still on opening up the various pockets on the backpacks.
You paused a moment, not sure if you should tell him where the supplies came from. You figured he would eventually question why there were two packs, so decided to tell him.
"Actually, they aren’t mine, they were left here,” you cleared your throat nervously, remembering Joel’s outburst about you sleeping with people at the office. "They're Justin's. He forgot to pick them up after I broke up with him.” You turned away so you couldn’t see his reaction, nervous he would show that angry side of himself again.
His hands stilled at your words. He had no right, and he knew it, but a wave of jealousy washed over him anyway. Joel pushed his feelings aside, not wanting to upset you again after he had made a little progress with you today.
"Hated camping so much you broke his heart, then?" he joked, offering you a small smile.
Your cheeks heated up at the real reason you broke up with Justin, that day in the meadow with your thoughts consumed of Joel crossing your mind. You let out a small chuckle and said, "I guess I better get used to it now."
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The two of you spent the rest of the day rummaging through your kitchen cabinets, setting aside essentials you could pack, only stopping briefly to eat some dinner. You found you had some chicken in your fridge, so you cooked it up with some rice and whatever vegetables you had that still looked good. You ate in silence, hunched over your small kitchen table.
"This is incredible, thank you again," Joel said, shoveling the last forkful in his mouth.
"You'd say that about anything right now, we haven't eaten anything decent since the bodega," you teased.
Joel shook his head in disagreement. "Nope, that ain't true. You're a good cook, and I'm grateful."
You looked down at your bowl shyly as Joel picked up his and washed it in your sink.
"Uh, I was wonderin," Joel started, clearing his throat and suddenly giving a spot on the bowl all his attention, "did he leave any clothes here I can use?"
You smacked your forehead, feeling stupid. Of course he wants different clothes, he's been in the same ones for days.
"No, he was only here that one time after camping, I'm sorry. Maybe we can look in some of those open apartments? I'm sure we can find something useful." You stood to wash your own bowl as he dried his hands.
Joel was pleased to hear your ex hadn't spent much time here, still struggling to ignore that jealous streak.
"Good idea, grab your bat, just in case, and let's go lookin' before it gets dark," he said, placing the towel delicately back on the holder before turning and heading towards your living room. You smiled inwardly at how domestic it felt in this moment, but you shook the thoughts out of your head. It's not like that between you, the focus was on surviving and finding your family.
You grabbed your bat and the two of you headed towards the door when suddenly the power went out. You both froze for a moment, taking in the eerie silence.
"Well, it held out longer than I figured it would. C'mon, we should definitely get goin' now, not much sun left." Joel said, opening up your apartment door a crack and peering out to make sure you were still alone. You followed him out the door, closed it gently behind you, and you walked a few doors down to apartment 245.
Joel indicated you stay back and he entered the room. It was a similar layout as your own, so it took him no time at all to confirm it was empty. You walked in and began to help him look through the dresser in the bedroom. Joel lucked out: the man who lived here was close enough to his size, so he grabbed a couple essential items and headed back to your place. He said he could continue to look tomorrow for more clothes, but this would do for now.
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You rifled through your kitchen cabinet for as many candles as you could find, lighting them all over the apartment so you could see as the sun went down. You had just finished lighting the last one when Joel came out of your bathroom after taking a quick shower before the hot water cooled in the tank. He changed into a dark grey plain tshirt and some sweatpants.
"Feel better?" you asked, walking past him to put a candle in the bathroom.
"Much better, thanks," he said, checking the locks on your doors and windows. "I'm gonna move your couch in front of your door for the night. That way, I'll feel it move if someone tries breakin' in."
You emerged from the bathroom, your brows furrowed. "You can't sleep on that thing, are you kidding? You're too tall."
Joel looked down at the loveseat he was in the process of pushing across the carpet. You were right, his legs would hang off the end, it was only a two-seater.
"I'll be fine, don't worry," he waved you off, finishing his task.
"Just sleep in my bed with me, it's big enough, it doesn't have to be weird," you offered before you could overthink it. He kept his eyes cast down on the loveseat, weighing your offer.
"Besides, this may be one of the last times we get to sleep on a mattress for a while," you added.
"You sure?" Joel asked, one eyebrow raised. He was pleasantly surprised by how much has changed between you. He knew he ruined his chance with you, and he couldn't bring up the argument now, it's been too long, the damage was done. But if you didn't absolutely despise him for it, maybe that could be enough.
"Yeah, of course. I'm gonna shower, too. Go on and settle in." You grabbed a change of clothes and closed the bathroom door behind you.
Joel stood in the middle of your bedroom looking around. It was a small room, just a bed, one end table with an alarm clock, a hamper and a dresser. It wasn't much, but you somehow had made it feel like you. The framed pictures you had on your dresser from your college days were next to some random pieces of jewelry scattered across the top. He gently touched the intricate glass knobs on your dresser, the tip of his finger dipping into the grooves of the design.
The dresser must have been old, because the slight pressure from his finger caused the drawer to fall open a few inches. He moved to shut it when he noticed something bright red hidden under the clothes. He turned around to confirm you were still in the shower, hearing the water trickling on the tub floor. Curious, he dipped his hand inside to pull the item to the surface. It was a red lace thong, soft and delicate in his rough hands. His breath caught in his throat and his pulse raced as he felt all the blood in his body heading right to his cock. He shoved the underwear back down to the bottom of the drawer quickly when he heard the water shut off. He got into one side of the bed and bunched up the blankets to hide his growing erection.
You padded out of the bathroom, still towel drying your hair. Considering the cool fall nights, you had put on sleep pants and a long sleeve T-shirt. Your heart jumped in your chest, nothing preparing you for the visual of seeing this man in your bed. Deciding you needed to take a moment, you made an excuse about blowing the candles out and left the room. You scolded yourself as you walked around to snuff out each candle. That part of your life with him is over, you aren't here playing house, and he all but told you how he felt in his office that day.
Stop thinking about him like that.
You blew out the last candle and headed back to your bedroom.
You each laid on your respective sides of the bed, you on your side with your back to him, and him flat on his back staring at your ceiling. It was quiet outside, but you could hear the occasional growl or yell far in the distance, and once you heard a FEDRA truck rumble by your building.
“Joel?” you whispered in the dark after a while, not sure if he was asleep.
“Yeah?” he whispered back.
“What do you think these things are? Are they people anymore?” you asked, unsure how to phrase your question.
“I’m not sure, the soldiers didn’t tell us much, I ain’t sure they even know,” he replied. "But I think we gotta look at it like it’s us or them: we can’t hold back if we’re in danger, d’you understand?”
You nodded in the darkness. He meant you’ll need to do what it takes to survive, even if that meant killing them.
“Yes,” you whispered back finally, “I understand.”
“I’m not sure how many of them there are, maybe it’s not as bad as we think… maybe the military can kill ‘em all and we can go back to normal. We haven’t even seen one yet, so who knows,” Joel said, yawning at the end of his sentence. You remembered he hardly slept the night before, so you stopped talking in order to let him rest. You closed your eyes and dreamt of whiskey and spearmint.
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You awoke with a start when you heard another FEDRA truck rumble slowly past your building, shining a huge spotlight into the window as it drove by. It was still dark out, unsure of the time since your alarm clock was digital. You felt surprisingly warm despite the cool fall night. You were about to reach down to pull a blanket off when you stopped. The heat wasn’t from the blanket, it was Joel.
He was pressed up against your back with his arm slung around your waist lightly, his face buried in your still slightly damp hair. You felt his breath as it exhaled on the back of your neck softly and you fought the urge to shiver at the sensation, worried it would wake him. You could tell by his breathing he was in a deep sleep, so you took a moment to just enjoy what could have been. You wondered in a different timeline, had the world not ended and he wouldn't have said those things to you in his office, if he would be in your apartment like this under other circumstances. You knew you told yourself to stop thinking like this, that it wasn’t important anymore, but you knew tomorrow would bring a new day of fear and who knows what else. Tonight, you were safe in your apartment. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to let your guard down, just a little.
You closed your eyes and leaned back ever so slightly against Joel, careful about waking him up. You sighed softly as you envisioned what it would have been like to have brought him back to your apartment, maybe after getting drinks and seeing a movie together. You would both stumble into your apartment giggling, his arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you in to kiss you as you would try to retreat backwards towards your bedroom door without breaking contact. Once you had him in your room, you would have run your hands up and down his torso, trying to get him to lift his shirt over his head. Maybe he would have gently pushed you back so you would land flat on your bed, watching him remove his shirt so you could finally see the rest of those strong arms and broad chest.
You wondered what you would have worn. Probably a dress, but not a work dress. Maybe the knee length cream dress with little flowers on it you kept tucked in the back of your closet, hardly ever finding an occasion to wear it. You definitely would have tried to surprise him with the red thong you kept hidden away, wondering what his reaction would have been when he ran his hands up your smooth legs under your dress and feeling the soft lace under his fingers.  Maybe he would have asked you to take your dress off and leave just the underwear on so he could see all of you in the moonlight shining through your window. Would he have pulled you down on his lap roughly, pinching your nipple and gripping the meaty part of your hip as he ground his hard cock up against your warm center, still covered with lace, teasing you? Or would he have taken his time, laid you down on the bed while he inched the thong down your legs, spreading them wide so he could see just how wet you were for him? Maybe he would have pressed your legs down on the bed while he licked the opening of your pulsing cunt, his angular nose nudging against your clit, over and over until you came screaming his name and your hands buried in his curls.
You forced your imagination to stop before you woke him up with your ragged breathing. You couldn’t relieve the pressure between your legs, anyway, since he had you caged in. All you could do was squirm a little bit, feeling the dampness that pooled in your underwear. Joel's arm shifted, probably because you were moving, so you froze while trying to calm your breathing. He sighed and gave his limbs a small stretch. The arm that was draped loosely over your waist tightened around you now, his large hand splayed against your ribs and shoved between your side and the mattress. You held your breath until you were sure he was still asleep, finally relaxing when his breathing evened back out again.
You weren't sure what tomorrow would bring, or even if you would both live. Tonight, you drifted off to sleep in his arms, making a mental note to put that guard back up tomorrow.
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Joel woke up first the next morning, the pleasant floral scent of your shampoo invading his senses before he even opened his eyes. Keeping his eyes shut, he frowned, the memories of yesterday flooding back to him. It had been a long day and your bed was so warm, he resisted the urge to wake up just yet. He sighed, stretching out a little before he realized his hand was pinned between you and the bed. He opened his eyes for the first time and saw you curled up with your back against his chest, sleeping peacefully with your lips slightly parted. No, he was clutching you to his chest, he must have done it in his sleep. No wonder he slept like a rock.
He gently tried to unweave himself without waking you up, but he failed. You stirred just as his arm broke free, and he quickly put some space between you so his morning wood wasn't digging into your back anymore.
You stretched and yawned, stilling when you felt him shift beside you. Turning over on your other side to face him, you gave him a sleepy smile before stretching once again and got up to head towards the bathroom.
Once the door shut, Joel exhaled the breath he didn't realize he was holding. He gripped his hard cock over the blankets to try to make it go away enough to stand up. It wasn't until you had left the bathroom to go into the kitchen for some food that he finally stood, tucking the remainder of his erection into his waistband.
You had dug out some pop-tarts and cereal, eating it dry since the milk had likely gone bad by now. You both ate in silence leaning over the kitchen counter.
"What's the plan for today?" you asked between a handful of Cheerios.
"Well, I figure we can look around some of these open apartments for whatever else we can use. Pack up our bags and see if we can start headin' west." Joel replied, dusting his hands on the sides of his sweatpants.
You nodded, telling him you were going to get changed, leaving him in the kitchen alone. Joel wandered over to the window, peeking out through the curtains to see if there was any activity. He didn't see any movement, a good sign, but not a sure thing. Once you were changed, he swapped places with you and changed as well, then you headed out the door to loot your neighbor's apartments.
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You were wandering around the apartment across the hall from you as Joel was digging through another closet to gather a few more items he could wear. The rooms were a mess, just like all of the other apartments, like everyone left in such a hurry: random drawers were left partially opened and clothes strewn around. You sauntered up to an end-table next to the couch in the living room and cracked opened a drawer with one finger, your bat lazily dangling in your other hand. You saw something shiny inside, so you opened the drawer all the way and pulled out a large and sharp hunting knife encased in a leather sheath.
You picked it up and made you way into the bedroom where Joel was now rummaging around in the adjoining bathroom, inspecting first aid supplies and pocketing what looked useful.
"I got you a present," you said, leaning against the doorframe. He turned to you, his hand briefly brushing against the keychain in his jeans pocket subconsciously as he stood up. You held out the knife, which he stepped forward and took.
"Hey, good find!" he said excitedly. "These bats'll only get us so far."
He placed the knife on the bathroom sink and began to undo his belt. Your eyes latched onto the movement, not expecting it. Feeling flustered, you swallowed nervously and you felt your cheeks get warm as you briefly replayed some of the thoughts you were having in the middle of the night, turning away before Joel noticed.
Once his belt was off, he threaded the sheath through the leather and ran the belt back through the loops of his jeans. Despite your efforts, he had noticed the blush that creeped along your cheeks. He smirked as he watched you exit the room and head towards the bedroom window.
You stood against the side of the window, resting your head against the frame and gazed outside. You thought you could hear something in the distance but you couldn't put your finger on what the sound was. You motioned for Joel to come over.
"What is that?" you asked. He shook his head, listening.
The noise was growing louder and sounded like growling and snarls. As it got closer, you could hear some screams interspersed with the growls. Joel must have seen something because he grabbed you by the shoulder and tugged you down to the ground, putting a finger against his lips. Quiet.
He peeked over the edge of the window just enough to see a huge mob of at least 50 infected ambling down the street mindlessly.
"Fuck," Joel whispered. He watched as he saw them stumble and drag their feet, hunched over with their mouths either hanging open or snapping at the air. Joel noticed most of them were covered in some amount of blood, either their own or someone else's.
As the noises got closer, you lifted your head up slightly to look down at the street, gasping and clamping both hands tightly over your mouth. You continued to stare as tears pricked the back of your eyes. You couldn't believe what you were seeing. This was so much worse than you had imagined.
The two of you could barely hear the roar of the trucks over the snarling as they approached from the opposite direction, FEDRA soldiers standing on the top and unloading endless amounts of bullets into the hoard of infected. You ducked down, but Joel kept watching. He saw how the bullets went right through them, barely flinching as they began to charge the soldiers angrily. The drivers threw the trucks into reverse before they were overrun, causing a couple soldiers on the top to lose their balance and fall into the hoard. The infected swarmed on top of the fallen soldiers, their shrieks muffled by growls and wheels squealing on the asphalt as they raced back down the street to safety, followed by the few hopeless infected that weren't tearing apart the soldiers on the ground.
He ducked back down under the window, panting heavily from the adrenaline. You were still hunched over with your mouth clamped shut under your hands, rocking on your heels with tears silently streaming down your face.
Joel leaned forward and wrapped you in his arms, pulling you against his chest. Neither of you said a word, you just sat there until the growls from the infected faded and they headed down the street. You stayed like that another ten minutes before you risked looking back out the window. Joel saw the pieces of soldiers that remained: mostly scraps of clothing, boots, a hand here or there, and the street filled with their dark red blood. He noticed a few infected that had died from the bullets. When he looked closer, he saw they all had a shot to the head. So there was a way to kill them.
Joel sighed. He sat up against the wall and rubbed his hands roughly over his face.
"A knife and a bat won't cut it, we need guns," he said to you. You sniffled and looked up at him.
"Where do we get guns?"
"My place. I got a few there. It's far though, deep in the city, near the office."
You felt your pulse return to normal now as you dried your tears on the sleeve of your T-shirt.
"Maybe the subway is clear? At least we would be off the street," you said.
"It's the only plan we got," Joel replied. He stood up to reach down and help you stand, and you quietly went back to your apartment.
Chapter Eight
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8-rae-rae-8 · 2 months
Text
This was meant to be a drabble I swear 😭
Soap had always looked up to him. His captain, his boss, the man he trusted to have a clear head on his shoulders. Price was the one he could safely go to when he needed him.
But then John was captured and he was suddenly the captain of two new men. He wasn't cut out for it - he knew. How could he wrangle two masked men who were definitely wrapping themselves in each other's arms in the showers and kissing before bedtime?
Who was he to judge? He'd done the same years before. It got lonely on base constantly, and they were comfortable together. Mactavish knew the rules against it, but he never called them out.
He'd do anything to get Price back, to feel his hugs and gentler affection. He put so much effort into being just like him. Gruff, smoking cigars that he hated, drinking the gross alcohol in his desk, loud and a bit forceful.
It felt like it all for nothing when they finally found Price and he was so, so very different. That wasn't the man he looked up to anymore. The destruction he caused drove a wedge between him and Soap. Johnny was so eager to give the captain back his spot, not realizing how bad of an idea it was before it was too late.
The man he trusted with everything turned into a man that had lost his head. Soap didn't want that, he didn't want the rough words and the harsh touch. It was all different. For way worse.
The whole time he thought he wasn't as capable, but he had to be. If that's what his captain had turned into and still had wanted to trust him, maybe he was enough to actually be good... He had Roach and Ghost to worry about, after all. Price was only thinking for himself.
The old office was abandoned for his own room instead. Small but perfectly fine otherwise. He didn't want to see Price around. The paperwork he filed would put the man behind bars, hopefully for good of the courts worked in their favor and the favor of those he had hurt.
It was only a matter of time before Ghost and Roach had noticed his silence. The way he recoiled at Price's presence. The only right thing to really do was check on him, right? In his room like always these days. Unless it was mission planning, training, or keeping the peace between men, he didn't feel like he had to leave the space. It was safe.
But because Roach and Ghost were so good at messling in things that weren't really their business, they managed to get themselves comfortably tucked into Johnny's room for a chat.
"Captain," Ghost spoke, Roach just leaning onto his shoulder from the side. He didn't speak much, not that Mactavish minded. One less man to talk back.
"Ghost, Roach.." Johnny greeted, leaned back in his desk chair as he looked at them. Not the proper place for a serious conversation but there was a hardly anywhere else.
"You're hiding in your room, sir." Ghost pointed out the obvious, looking forward to the captain.
"At least ye can still see, Riley. Why're ye here?" Soap forced his voice to remain in an abrasive tone.
"it's been too quiet, sir. You're usually out with us." He replied.
"well, it's different now." Mactavish muttered, pinching his brow.
"come on, captain. You're acting like a bloody teenager..." Ghost sighed. "You haven't even met us at mess to eat for two weeks."
"As long as he is here, 'm not planning on it." Maybe a little overdramatic, but it felt very fair to him. Price was different, it felt just like a betrayal with more than his life at risk.
"Then we'll eat in here." Ghost decided, and did not let Soap argue. Even though he was the captain, he let Ghost shut him down. Maybe he needed it, some kind of closeness.
Ghost didn't let any argument stop him and Roach. Everyday for the next week, they all gathered up in Mactavish's room to eat. The looks they got were a little bothersome, but they didn't stop for that. Ghost pushed for them to do it.
The longer they stayed, some papers got put down on the ladder of important things, Ghost and Roach taking that place. The two kept climbing that ladder each day that passed. And as soon as Price was out of there, off his base, out of his team and behind bars, he was open again. Laughing, joking, pushing just for fun.
Johnny was him again. A Captain but one that didn't feel the need to keep Price's things. He didn't feel like he owed him anything. But he owed Roach and Ghost for getting him to laugh freely again. Hell, he owed them for getting him to feel something other than regret. Even the littlest of butterflies in his stomach when they'd talk about literally anything. It could be the saddest talk, and he'd still feel something tug at him, something make him want to lean closer and just listen.
Whenever Roach would talk, his heart with thud against his ribcage. Ghost's laugh would make him breathless. Fuck, what was happening to him? Getting all giddy about just hanging out with the men he knew were already together. It felt stupid, but when they both took off their masks, he felt so incredibly warm. It was a privilege to see their faces, things he never wanted to stop looking at.
It started happening more and more. In the privacy of Johnny's room, they'd take off the masks and just talk. Sometimes Mactavish couldn't help but stare. Jagged scars painted Ghost's face, he swore he never wanted to kiss something more. Roach's face was a little softer, freckles dotted along his nose and cheeks, his unkempt hair falling in his face from time to time. Ghost would brush it away, but Johnny imagined it was him doing it instead.
Fuck, what are they doing to him?
Neither would comment on his staring or the lovesick look on his face. But they'd smile knowingly at each other. Mactavish was sneaky in the field, but at home base, with the men he was growing to adore? No secret was hidden well.
It really didn't take long before Roach had somehow convinced Johnny to sit with them on the bed instead of across from them. It wasn't a big bed by any means, he didn't need one. Their knees and thighs pressed together in the tight space, similar to how they sat on transport to a mission location.
On rough days, he'd sit right between them and lean on Ghost's shoulder, only to have an arm wrap around him. All of them gross from training, or a shit mission, but they'd settle on the bed and relax for a little while.
The comfort, adoration and safety he felt with them was unlike what he felt with Price. This was warm, unforced, clean (dispite the dirt of the job). It wasn't rough with anger and a need for dependence on each side.
They all had their moments. Sometimes it would be Mactavish welcoming Roach into his arms after something went wrong. Other times he'd fall into one of their arms and let himself be comforted. He let them help without feeling like he owed anything in return. There was no 'i owe you's, nothing that would be hurtful in the long run.
Ghost and Roach welcomed him into their space, and let him rest with him. Resting their weary bodies on the same bed together. He was strong, but nothing compared to how warm it felt to accidentally fall asleep against them. Nothing felt like the butterflies that seemed to worsen every day.
None of them commented on how they could easily see Johnny actually relaxing around them. He put away his rough exterior just for a few minutes to themselves.
But every time he saw Ghost and Roach share a kiss, he wanted nothing more than to be in it too. He could be seeing what he wanted when he saw the way they didn't seem as at ease when Johnny wasn't at their sides too.
All parties wanted something more. They wanted Soap in with them. Sharing the more intimate affection and falling asleep together almost nightly.
Soap was caught off guard when he woke up in bed after a small nap and a kiss was pressed against his forehead. A thin mask between the skin and the lips. He practically blue screened. Ghost to his left, and Roach on Ghost's other side.
He didn't say anything, neither did Ghost. But he leaned gently against his side again regardless. It was soft, softer than he deserved. He could still feel the impression of the masked lips on his forehead for minutes after.
"hey..." Ghost whispered as he watched Johnny open his eyes.
"mmh.." Soap mumbled back, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.
Interactions like that continued for a few days, Ghost and Roach getting closer with him. Slowly opening him up to minimal affection.
And then it happened. Comfortable in his room, working on a piece of paperwork when Roach and Ghost entered. Gentle hands found a place to settle on Soap's shoulders.
"Captain, take a break... We need to talk." The tone was gentle, serious but not firm. Still, his stomach dropped a little as he nodded. His pen stilled and he set it aside.
"Talk about..?" Mactavish prompted.
"About us?" Ghost breathed out.
"what 'us'?" Mactavish asked as if he didn't understand. He understood, probably too well.
"Me and Gary-" Ghost looked down at him, Soap not even looking up. "I- we.. we want you to be with us."
The captain paused. Be with them, meaning they both wanted to be with him... His stomach twisted in knots, but the butterflies still formed.
"We know the rules, but.. we want you anyway." Roach spoke from Ghost's side.
They want him regardless of if it was wrong, illegal or otherwise... They wanted him still, knowing it could be dangerous. Mactavish had taken bigger risks... Like putting his life in Price's hands before. Ghost and Roach were different, he didn't want to say no.
Slowly, Soap nodded. "Okay."
"..okay?" Ghost softly put pressure on the tensing muscles on Johnny's shoulder. "You have more words than that, captain." He teased.
"You want me, then have me." Maybe not great phrasing, but his head was going a mile a minute anyways. A captain of a deadly team and he couldn't even think before speaking.
There were two sighs of relief from behind him.
"We don't want to just have you, you'll have us, right?" Ghost asked, kneading gentle circles against Johnny's back. A display of affection.
"Any day, Si... I'd have ye both any day." Soap murmured, his head tilting back to see the creases of Ghost's eyes when he smiled. The red of Roach's unmasked cheeks.. Yeah, even without his thoughts straight, he wanted them... If the giddiness and the butterflies weren't enough to say that.
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oliveroctavius · 7 months
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Doesn't the decision to get involved with Sam Bullit prove Gwen was a bad person?
Hey, I've been looking for an excuse to post about this. The Sam Bullit arc isn't really about Gwen (though it certainly reveals some things about her character). The Sam Bullit arc is about racist dogwhistles and why they work.
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ASM #92 pg 19: "I will bring law and order to the people of this great city! I will show no mercy to the anarchists and all others who would destroy our way of life!"
Bullit's platform is not openly white supremacist in the sense that it doesn't overtly mention race. He talks about laws and safety in a way meant to appeal to rich white voters. The true meaning should be clear to anyone with any political awareness (who are those others and what is our way of life?), so why does this rhetoric attract "otherwise rational" people?
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ASM #91 pg 6: "I want to volunteer to help you--in your campaign for DA. Because--I want you to bring Spider-Man to justice!" "We need strength--strength to punish those who mock the law! I will use such strength to bring Spider-Man and others like him to justice! I will not betray your trust."
Gwen makes her decision to back Bullit on the way home from her father's funeral. There's a very real phenomenon of tough-on-crime bills named after (white) murder victims. The grief of families who feel like justice hasn't been served is a powerful tool to push harsh laws while smothering any criticism as "disrespectful" to the victims. What’s in a Name? An Empirical Analysis of Apostrophe Laws, 2020.
Bullit showed up at George Stacy's funeral with this exact goal in mind, and when Spider-Man "kidnaps" Gwen later, he leverages the media obsession with white girls in danger for his cause. Gwen is a pawn, but she did offer her help first. Her desire for closure is very human and her short-sighted reactionary faith in "the law" is very white.
Oddly absent from your "proven bad person" takeaway is J. Jonah Jameson. The Bugle lends Bullit a platform to make Gwen's personal tragedy a political talking point. JJJ has the ~Black best friend~ excuse and everything, and he still blows past red flags like crazy.
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ASM #91 pg 7: "Maybe they were better days than now! At least we had law and order then." "Yeah--and lynch mobs, and bread lines, and Uncle Toms..." "Come off it, Robbie! What's wrong with a man standing for law and order, anyway?" "Maybe it just depends on whose law--and what kind of order you're talkin' about, man!"
(Another point of this arc: marginalized groups learn to recognize dogwhistles pretty quickly for survival reasons. If they tell you something is a dogwhistle and you don't see it yet, look closer.)
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ASM #92 pg 9: "Parker's story just served to open Jameson's eyes--but I've kept a dossier on you. I haven't been city editor all these years for nothing! I know where your support comes from. I know about the lunatic hate groups who are backing you. I know what you really mean by law and order!"
Late in the campaign, the Bugle switches sides. This scene tends to be described as JJJ giving the racists what-for, but the moment is truly Robbie's. (Note that it took Peter getting roughed up for Jameson to take this seriously!) JJJ can yell at Bullit all he likes without consequences, but Robbie is kidnapped and threatened by white supremacists in retaliation. It's Robbie's determination to speak up that eventually puts Bullit out of the running for good.
The Bullit arc isn't there to sort characters by Bad Person and Good Person. Neither Gwen nor JJJ have to personally hate black people for their self-centered sense of safety to be weaponized by a racist agenda. This is a Stan Lee PSA about masked bigotry and how it might appeal to you even if you consider yourself a Good Person.
But for some ~mysterious~ reason, Gwen's brief agreement and Jameson's brief rejection are the only parts of these two issues I ever see brought up, with Robbie's major role not mentioned at all. Some ideas fit more neatly than others into smug ship-war quote tweets and anon asks, it seems.
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raineandsky · 2 months
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hi! i was wondering if you'd be willing to write a piece where a hero, who is the older brother of the villain and considered "the golden son," and the villain, who had left home once they were of age, haven't talked for months after a big argument. Then one day, Villain is fighting his brother when his brother has a panic attack. Villain tries to leave, thinking it's a trick (cause his perfect older brother could never be hurt, right?) and goes to hide. but then their parents appear and Villain realizes perhaps Hero wasn't as admired by their parents as Villain would have liked to believe. In fact, it almost seemed like they disliked Hero all together. they're being mean and kind of calling him pathetic, and hero keeps getting more and more anxious until finally the Villain realizes something is wrong and tries to help
god this turned out WAY longer than i intended - i hope you like long stories anon!! and ofc thank you for the request :)
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tw abuse
“What are you doing?”
The villain thought they were fighting, but now the hero wants to sit on the floor and pant like a dog and clutch at his chest. He thinks it’s a fair question to ask.
“I don’t want to fight you, [Villain],” the hero manages through short breaths. “Please.”
The villain doesn’t see him much anyway. He’s not sure why one fight would take it out of him. He simply rolls his eyes, blatantly unconvinced. “If we weren’t on opposite sides I would maybe consider it.”
“It doesn’t have to be like this.” The words rush out before the hero has to heave another shallow breath. “We don’t have to hate each other.”
He glances up to the villain and– oh god, is he crying? What kind of game does he think he’s playing? The villain scowls wholeheartedly.
“Funny,” he says flatly. “Look, if we’re not going to battle it out I’ll be on my way.”
“No, [Villain].” The hero practically chokes on his name. What a show he’s putting on. “[Villain], please, don’t leave me—”
But the villain’s already turned on his heel to make one of his famous escapes. It’s not quite as extravagant as it usually is, considering he’s walking away rather casually and not pursued in the slightest, but he’s getting the hell out of dodge and that’s all that matters.
Or he tries to, at least. He’s just reaching for the door handle when it swings open with a mind of its own. He just about has the foresight to stagger back to avoid being whacked in the face.
“[Hero],” a voice says coolly from the stairwell.
The villain’s stomach drops in a way it hasn’t in a long time. He’s flitting round the corner to hide before he realises he’s doing it. He hates that his own father can still have this effect on him, even 16 years later.
Two superheroes stalk out onto the rooftop, seemingly oblivious to anything but the hero sagging on the floor in front of him. “Where’s [Villain]?” the other superhero demands after a moment.
The villain shrinks back in his hiding spot slightly. The hero doesn’t even look at his parents. “He left.”
The villain didn’t care what was happening with the hero, but the superheroes don’t seem to even notice. The superhero looks at the hero at his feet like a child who’s done nothing worse than get bad grades in school. The other superhero sighs like he’s simply a stubborn teenager. Of course they do. They never saw anything less in him.
Jealousy isn't the right word. Just distain, maybe. Annoyance that their parents had to have favourites.
“He left,” the superhero echoes coldly, “and you let him?”
The hero’s breathing is in tatters now. He seems like he’s barely even listening, his head bent, his chest heaving. “I couldn’t—”
“What kind of hero are you if you just let villains run out of your grasp?” the superhero snaps, and the other superhero nods shortly. “Villains waltz in and destroy everything me and your mother have created and, what, you cheer them on?”
“H–He’s my brother—”
“He’s vermin,” the other superhero butts in sharply. “You can’t even save the city from a rat? Is that it?”
The villain keeps his emotions carefully in-check. He knows his parents were never going to be happy with his life choices, but it still hurts. Being compared to a goddamn rat is a little hurtful.
And the hero. What’s with the shortness? He’s the best of both of them. The golden child, the star pupil, the one their parents spent all their time building into the perfect son. The perfect hero.
“Answer your mother, [Hero],” the superhero spits coldly.
Even the villain can see the hero shaking even from here. He’s practically choking on his own breath, his sight probably blurry with the tears. The villain’s heart twists in a way it hasn’t in years. He’s my brother reverberates through his mind uninvited.
“He can’t even answer a simple question,” the other superhero says with a disappointed tut. The villain recognises that noise—it’s a lot more of a death sentence than it sounds. “Pathetic.”
He’s my brother. He’s your brother.
The villain pushes himself upright.
“I– I can’t—” The hero stumbles over his words for a moment, a desperate cough pulling from his chest. “I can’t hurt people. I can’t hurt him.”
The villain heaves a deep breath, stabilises himself. “Sometimes you have to hurt people to get them to do what you want,” the other superhero says. She flicks her hair over her shoulder much too casually for this conversation. “You have to whip the horse to get it to move, [Hero]. I’m ashamed we haven’t drilled that into you yet.”
The fact that she doesn’t use his actual name isn’t lost on the villain. He takes a few careful steps out of the shadows.
Don’t leave me.
“You don’t need to whip a horse,” the villain says sharply. The superheroes whip back to stare at him, and it feels like he’s fourteen again; got too dirty, played too rough, liked the wrong thing. The you’re in deep shit kind of feeling. “You can get them where you need if you give them reason to trust you.”
“Ah,” the other superhero says with a disingenuous smile. “The vermin returns.”
The hero’s head has snapped up, tears streaking his face. The villain wants this to be over. “Leave [Hero] alone,” he spits. “Leave my brother alone.”
“Oh?” The superhero smirks. “Now you want to get involved in family affairs?”
“Go on,” the villain taunts stupidly, “show him how a real hero does it.”
The superhero strides towards him, and it takes all his willpower to stay put. “You act like goodness and peace are one and the same.” He says flatly. “Sometimes violence is the only language you animals understand.”
“What a thing,” the villain retorts. He can feel the regret building as he’s saying it like he’s a child again. Don’t draw his attention to you. Stop talking. “To call your son an animal.”
The villain feels, rather than sees, the superhero’s fist on his face. It takes him a moment to realise he’s on the ground, the cold concrete an unforgiving bed. The hero shouts something incoherent, his voice torn. “I would never hurt my son,” the superhero says, emotionless, “but you are no son of mine.”
“Thank god,” the villain says with a mouth of copper.
“Let’s arrest the rat,” the other superhero says. “We can question him about his associates at the agency.”
The handcuffs are refreshingly cool in comparison to the burning in the side of the villain’s face. The superhero shoves him to his feet with no less remorse than any other villain he’s dealt with.
“Let me take him,” the hero says quickly. He stumbles to his feet, breaths still uneven, sniffling desperately. The words come out choked. “I’m sorry for messing up. I’ll take him.”
The superhero pulls the villain a little closer by the cuffs. It’s almost protective, if he didn’t know his father better. “You realise villains aren’t doves that need releasing into the wild?” the superhero drawls. “They are scum that need stamping out. If you take him, we will find him in the agency, won’t we?”
“Of course,” the hero says shortly. “I’ll get him there.”
The superheroes eventually go on their way. The villain spits on the floor after them.
“Some city defenders they are,” he says flatly. “Why the hell didn’t you leave?”
“They entered me in a race I didn’t realise I was running,” the hero says. His face is pulled taut, sweat beaded on his brow, his voice shaking. “And when I figured it out, it was too late to do anything but live up to their expectations and win.”
His hands still tremble on the villain’s arm. “I’m sorry I didn't see it sooner,” the villain whispers, like his regret is a curse. “You could have come with me.”
The hero laughs insincerely. “I’m sorry dad punched you.”
The villain shrugs as the hero gently nudges him towards the door. “Comes with being a villain. I’ve been punched a lot harder than that before.”
“I don’t know how you live like that.”
“I don’t know how you do either.”
They share a smile, kind of. It’s a little awkward and subdued, but it’s a smile between brothers long since torn apart. That’s all that matters.
“Look,” the hero says after a short moment, “I’m really sorry about everything. I’ll get you out of prison.”
“And incur the wrath of those freaks?” The villain laughs. “No, don’t worry. I’ll break myself out.”
“I’ll get you out,” the hero says quietly, “and this time, I’ll come with you.”
The villain stares at him, unabashedly wide-eyed. “Really?”
The hero looks better than he did ten minutes ago—colour is just starting to warm his cheeks again, his breath a little more even. Relief floods the villain’s heart in a way it hasn’t in a long time. “Anyone who calls my brother vermin is no parent of mine.” They start down the steps, slow, lazy, like they’re putting off getting home from school again. “I’m tired of trying to fit into their perfect ideals of a hero. I’ll come with you.”
The villain grins boyishly. Getting punched was almost worth it to get his best friend back. “We have room for you.” Almost. “But you get the bottom bunk.”
The hero rolls his eyes but he agrees, and it almost feels like nothing ever went wrong.
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Text
18 | chapter three
summary: honestly you haven't been sleeping enough for the bullshit that billy hargrove is putting you through.
warnings: swearing
listen to: Bad guy- Billie Eillish | Breakfast - Dove Cameron (playlist HERE)
word count: 1.4k
series masterlist + read the next chapter early on my ko-fi!!
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You hadn’t had a goodnight sleep in many days, so a part of you truly believed that you must’ve been dreaming of seeing the sunkissed boy that you had run into at the dawn giving you a wicked bright smile as he stared at you with the same agonizing look he’d given you earlier. 
And it was even worse, now that you had him with the daylight. Come to think of it, he looked like daylight. He was tall, knee-buckling handsome, his blonde curls were mussed as a wavy lock flopped into his forehead in a way that looked both boyish and rugged. You hadn’t noticed the scar on his right eyebrow earlier but now you could see it as he smiled at you with that attempt on a mustache that made him look so grown-up that you hadn’t even thought about the possibility of him going to the same school as you. 
He was beautiful. 
And you hated it. 
“You?” Billy snickered, his voice deep that it cause goosebumps to appear on your skin. 
“You?” you replied, happy that your voice hadn’t sounded as wobbly as you thought it would. 
Billy smiled even brighter, because how on earth would God or the universe or whatever fucking thing that made his life so terrible give him the chance of seeing you again? Even though you looked nothing like in the dawn. You were wearing a black small skirt, an oversize brown leather jacket, and a pair of heavy boots, which was a complete contrast to the Marcia Brady outfit that you had at the moment. Yes, it showed your mid-drift but it was nothing like the girl he had seen earlier, it was tamed. 
And immediately, Billy was curious. 
“Do you know each other?” Chrissy asked, making you both snap out of your thoughts as you turned to her. 
“No,” you replied. 
“Yes,” Billy said at the same time. 
You both turned to the other as you narrowed your eyes and Billy’s smile only turned wider than you imagine it could.
“I don’t even know your name,” you replied curtly as you watched him carefully, his eyes glinted. 
“Billy,” he said with his gaze burning you. “Billy Hargrove.”
You felt squirmy under his gaze, but you knew better. 
“Charming,” you snorted before turning your back to him and glancing at the other cheerleaders at the table, who seemed like they had the same bug-eyed expression on their faces as they whispered between them. 
“Aren’t you going to tell me yours?” Billy asked loudly before he muttered a small excuse me, to Chrissy and sat down next to you, incredibly close, making all the other cheerleaders on your bench move places. 
Your moth gaped at the action and you realized the girls were starting to glare at you and whispers between friends multiplied while Billy’s blue electric eyes seemed to never leave your face, you started to feel your cheeks getting warmer and you turned to Billy. 
He had a cologne you noticed, but he still smelled like the sea underneath it all. 
“Y/N Y/L/N,” you replied. 
“y/n,” he repeated with a wonderful grin and it felt as if he was tasting your name, he licked his lips after“I almost didn’t recognize you with that updo and these clothes,” he continued as he took a strand of your hair and played with it. 
But the more you felt the whispers and the glances, you knew you needed to stop him. “Quit it,” you muttered with a glare as you slapped softly his hand off your hair while you looked at the cheerleader with an obviously phony smile and Billy chuckled, mostly to himself. There you are, he thought as he saw the same confident glint on your eyes as the one he had witnessed in the early morning hours. 
Billy knew you didn’t need further provoking. 
Yet, “I mean, you look good but what’s this about?” he said anyway with a louder child-like laugh before you glare at him. 
“Can you shut the fuck up for two seconds?” you whispered as you leaned closer to him with an ice-cold tone, you were trying to make sure that only he would hear you.  
Billy smirked as he caught your scent, you smelled like jasmine and coffee. You swallowed as you turned to the girls again and then to Billy. “Why are they looking at me like I’m radioactive by sitting next to you?” you asked. 
“Oh,” Billy turned to them uninterested, some smiled at him when their eyes met but he turned to you faster. “They are disappointed,” Billy explained. 
You furrowed your brows together. “Disappointed?”
“Yeah,” he shrugged while he glanced down at your lips for a second and back at your eyes. 
“Why?” you asked, pretending like you hadn’t noticed how he stared at you.
“Because I’m talking to you and not them,” he said confidently while he cocked his head to the right, he felt as if he was in a spell. 
You snorted at his answer and your eyes travel through his body, staring him down like the way he had stared at you before. He had incredible tight jeans and you wondered if he could even run with them, they were fitted, nicely fitted and you knew why he liked it that way. Then that damn open baby blue shirt that left little to the imagination by the way he kept a couple of buttons opened so -you believed- people could look at his chest, at those pecs and the first part of, what you believed, were well-toned abs. 
You knew guys like him, you knew them like the back of your hand. You knew that he wanted everyone to fall in love with them, to make every girl fall in love with them just as a distraction and then they would toss them aside without any care. You knew he had broken so many hearts and you hated him for it. 
And worse of all, if you weren’t careful, you would crack, you would smile at him and laugh at his jokes, you would melt. 
It would be as if you had learned nothing. 
And you couldn’t stand for that. 
“Oh, so you’re the big guy here, right?” you asked sarcastically, the same confident tone you’d use in the morning as you crossed your arms over your chest. “Let me guess, you’re the star player of the football team,”
Billy smiled. “No,” 
“Soccer?” 
“I wish, they don’t play that much in this hole,” he shrugged as tried to lean closer to you. 
“Basketball,” you replied.
“Ding, Ding, Ding,” Billy sang as he bit his lower lip while you flipped your hair and gave him a tight smile. 
“So, I knew,” you said in a cocky manner while Billy frowned. 
“You knew what?” 
“That you were trouble,” you replied as you pulled your bag from under the table and pressed it closer to your chest while Billy gave you a confused look as he studied your actions. 
“Well,” he tried to say but you cut him off. 
“And what did I tell you about me being seen with someone that looks like trouble,” you whispered again as you stood up from the table and leaned into him while he still seemed to process what was happening as you threw your bag over your shoulder. 
“I…” Billy managed to mutter as he recalled the conversation earlier in the morning and then it dawned on him. “Wait,” he managed to get out but you cut him off. 
Again. 
“Get. lost. Hargrove.” you muttered between your teeth as you turned on your heels and walked away furiously. 
Billy only managed to watch you leave the cafeteria as he stared at your figure dumbfounded. He thought he had done it right, his smile, the glances, the lips, it usually worked. He knew in the morning that you were stubborn, he was aware of it, but fuck, this was a new level. 
It seemed like you had a vendetta against him like you already knew all his terrible deeds. 
“Oh, my,” Chrissy muttered as she got closer to him while also watching you leave. “What did you do, Billy?”
If Billy was being honest, he truly didn’t know but he would be lying if he said that the thrill didn’t dial up to twenty after you pushed the lunch door away and looked back at him for a second before leaving him, again. 
***
author's note: i'm so happy that so many people actually like this. I really want it to have a slow burn but like chapter 10 to 14 is going to actually left so many of you on the FLOOR and like FUCK ME because your words make me so happy, writing and that it makes at least one of you happy really is everything for me. I can't wait to see what you think about this one. THANK YOU SO MUCH and as always lmk what you think of the chapter!!!
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thefanficmonster · 1 year
Note
It is I!! With (yet again) another small Idea I JUST had
Imagine this: Corpse x Apartment neighbor reader, where one night Corpse just Scream to the top of his lugs and then the reader screams back just for fun and then they get to know each other that way
I found it kinda funny honestly but that's like a rough idea of what I just thought let me know if ya liked it, k?
-with love Miss Kia
PS: Remember to take care even if it's just sleeping a bit or a glass of water okay?🥰 Whatever you do is good enough for us
PS2: Please tag me with it done, if you do make it ☺️
Hi dear! I know it's been literal months since you sent in this request but I've finally gotten around to it and I hope the final product makes the wait worth it. Love you with all my heart, Vy 💕
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Pairing: Corpse Husband x Reader (Gender Neutral)
Warnings: Mentions of Anxiety and Stress, Swearing
Genre: Fluff, Humor, RPF (Real Person Fic)
Summary: see request above
As you slump against the only standing piece of furniture in your otherwise barren living room, you can't help but sigh. Boxes surround you, silently judging you for leaving them in their status quo for yet another day. Postponing the inevitable unpacking awaiting you isn't much of a choice with your busy schedule but it is what it is and anything else would be making excuses. And there's nothing you hate more than making excuses.
You moved into this new apartment three days ago and yet you have only spent twelve hours in it total. Your stuff is still in boxes which you are quite frankly afraid to open, worried of all the broken crap you'll find because the movers you hired turned a blind eye to the large bold letters the word FRAGILE was written in.
Working two jobs is the only way you can pull through your final year of college but it's starting to feel like you're digging your mental health and sleep schedule a grave instead.
You wanna scream. Scream your fucking lungs out. But you can't with these shitty thin walls. You don't want your neighbors to think you're a nut-job. At least not already. Hell, they haven't even seen your face. You could be living next to Leonardo DiCaprio and have zero clue.
Ok, full disclosure, the building is filthy, so Leo is certainly not living next-door but a serial killer might be.
And speaking off....
Just as that ridiculous though passes your mind and causes you to chuckle, the aforementioned thin walls are straight up rattled by a guttural scream, the vibrations of which nearly bring the ceiling down on you.
You let several moments go by as the building settles in it's slot in the Earth following that vocal earthquake. You stare blankly at the wall behind which the scream emanated from, the wall separating you from your neighbor.
That serial killer thing seems to check out, you think to yourself as your loopy, exhausted brain hits the wrong instruction button, sending you in a fit of quiet giggles.
They can't think I'm a loose canon if they're just as bad, can they?
You decide they can't and go on and rip your friendly neighbor a new one. A scream much stronger, louder and longer that simultaneously establishes your dominance as well as deflates the tension that had built up in your chest.
It's the relief you've needed for a while now.
Similar silence follows your scream, leaving you to catch your breath, head tilted back with peace you haven't felt since you decided to move.
At least until there's a knock at your door.
"Hey, um, you good in there?"
The knock maybe put you on edge, but the voice is what seriously caught you off-guard. In all honesty, it intrigued you more than you'd like to admit. Not enough to get you to open the door, but enough to get you up from the couch and get you to approach the door at least a little.
"You're one to talk. You started the chain, pal." You retort without a second's hesitation which probably should have been considered, with the whole serial killer theory and all.
You hear the guy chuckle, "Desperate times call for desperate measures. It's not like I own a stress ball."
Another step brings you closer to the door, "I mean, they don't really do much. And therapy is expensive. Scaring your neighbors is free."
"I scared you?" He has the audacity to sound shocked, almost offended, "You scared me!"
"You bet your ass I did. Gotta let you know who the boss is around here." You sass right back, unable to prevent the bubbling laughter from escaping you.
It mirrors his, "Well, boss, wanna open this door? I feel a little looney and I probably look so too. Talking to a door and all."
His comments provokes a mumbled apology from you as you, against all the better judgement your 2-minutes-ago self possessed, go to open the door.
And my, oh my, did you win the neighbor lottery. You got a lethally cute one.
"Hi there, neighbor." You greet the taller figure crowned by a mop of messy dark curls. His dark eyes barely peer through the curtain.
But you still manage to make out his smile, even with the mask blocking it from direct view, "Hello to you too, neighbor."
"Y/N, nice to meet ya."
"Corpse, the pleasure's all mine."
His name wouldn't help his serial killer case if you weren't so focused on the few features of his you could see.
There's a brief beat of silence he puts an end to with a shy yet still witty comment, "I know you're supposed to bring baked goods to new neighbors but I can't cook for shit....I got beer though?"
A smile brightens up your face which clearly releases some tension from him, "Say no more, Corpse. You got my full attention. Even if you might be a serial killer."
His eyes blow wide, "What?"
So do yours, "What?"
Well, if that isn't the most rom-comy thing ever. Hallmark and audience approved.
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cowgurrrl · 6 months
Note
I’m sorry. I am simply obsessed with rockstar!joel with crackhead twins. There is something about this hot dude in his 50s with a bad back having to raise two wild gremlins who like to gnaw on the table leg!? You know what I mean. Could I please request a cute fic where Joel is just super exhausted and feels like he is maybe not up tot he task, I don’t know maybe the girls are like in their chaos 2 year old stage. After a long day of them not being interested in him at all and him just feeling super insecure he resorts to strumming my girl on his guitar and they are just mesmerized by their dad?! Idk like the music is the moment the turn into sweet little mushy angels again? Sorry that was super long, anyway love yah.
Thank you for the request 🥺🥺 ily2 and I love that a general consensus has been reached that the twins are batshit crazy as toddlers and Sam is just a Perfect Baby Angel
My Girls
Pairing: rockstar!joel miller x fem!reader
Summary: Joel braves the first of many Sophia and Violet days [1.6k]
Warnings: mentions of pregnancy and the foster care system, Joel being a DILF, that’s it
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It's debated on what's harder: going from no kids to one kid or one kid to two kids. You honestly don't have a lot of skin in the game when it comes to the question because Sarah and Ellie were teenagers when you met Joel. Even then, Sarah was fourteen when Ellie came into their lives and sixteen by the time the adoption paperwork was approved. You thought going from two to three with the birth of Sam would be hard, and it was, but Sam was an amazing baby. He always wanted to cuddle, followed the rules almost to a fault, and rarely threw tantrums. He's the kid that made you think, "Oh, yeah. We could totally do this again." Sophia and Violet, however, have given you a run for your money from the moment you found out you were having twins, and two years later, they haven't stopped. 
True to form, once the girls turn two, you go back to work. Joel is accommodating because, of course, he is. He realizes you put your career on pause for almost two and a half years (if you count the mandated bed rest your doctor put you on at 32 weeks) and is more than happy to let you go and do your thing. He'd been a single dad with no help to a kid before. What's thirty years and a couple extra littles running around? As it turns out, a lot.
The day you return to set, this time as a director instead of an actor, the girls spend the first hour without you crying. Sam, being six and used to his parents' routine, is seemingly unfazed and continues watching Bluey and munching on his breakfast. Sophia and Violet bang on the door, scream and refuse to let Joel even talk to them, let alone pick them up to comfort them. They fight him the entire way to the car to get Sammy to school on time and then cry even harder because "Bammy's going to school." Joel can normally soothe his girls without any issue, but they didn't sleep well the night before and have been wound up all morning. 
When he got home with them, they demanded a snack, but they had to be different because twins. Then, Sophia collapsed in a heap on the floor because Joel peeled her banana for her instead of letting her do it (rookie mistake). The toddler dramatics sent Daisy into action to remedy the situation, which made Violet scream in protest because she suddenly decided she hates when Daisy licks her or anybody for that matter. Poor Daisy didn't know what to do besides scamper off to her bed and watch Joel struggle with big, sad eyes. Then came the drama of what game to play: Princess Tea Party or Princess Dinosaurs, which caused another explosion of unregulated emotions. By the time noon rolls around, he's staring at his phone as he tries to decide whether or not to call you. 
If there's one thing Joel Miller hates more than admitting defeat, it's seeing his kids upset. Everything he tries to do only upsets the girls more and makes him question his parenting skills. How the fuck did you do this for two years? Sure, the kids had their days, but the only time you ever sent him an SOS at work was when Violet had an asthma attack and ended up in the emergency room. Even then, you got all three kids in the car and to the hospital without help. You're a fucking force when it comes to taking care of the kids, and right now, he feels like the worst dad on the planet. After a quick cry in the pantry, while the girls watched Encanto for the umpteenth time and ate lunch, he takes a deep breath and decides he can handle a few more hours. 
With a little more fuss and frustration, he gets Daisy on a leash and the girls in a stroller and walks them down to the neighborhood playground. The change of scenery and the sunshine put the girls in a much better mood. For a blissful hour, the girls run around and play and giggle without a care in the world. Joel does everything from pushing them on the swings to going down the slide with them to letting them play with Daisy off-leash. They have fun until the dreaded hour of nap time creeps up on them. 
Thankfully, the girls (Daisy included) are tired from their adventures on the playground and start the journey home reluctantly. It's getting them to actually go to sleep that's the issue. Every time he tries to leave their room, one of them calls out the saddest "Daddy" he's ever heard in his entire life, and he turns right back around. And it would be fine if his presence wasn't enough to keep the girls awake. He knows that if the girls don't nap, it will only make the day longer and worse for everyone. He sits on the floor between their two beds and tucks a curl behind Violet's ear.
"C'mon Vi Pie, you guys gotta close your eyes and nap," he says quietly. "What can I do to get you to sleep?"
"Call Mommy?" Violet suggests, and he tsks. 
"Honey, you know Mommy's working, but she loves you, and she's gonna be home real soon, okay?" As he speaks, he can see the tears welling in Violet's big brown eyes and turns to see the same tears in Sophia's identical ones. "No. No, please don't cry. Please. You're gonna break my heart." He begs. "What can I do to get you to stop cryin', huh? Y'know, when you two were babies, I used to just hold the both of you and sway and sing to ya and…" he trails off as his eyes land on Ellie's old guitar resting against the wall of the girls' room. She gave it to them when she got her new one and told them they could use it to practice. They don't really do much more than pull at the strings and turn the tuning knobs, but they'll learn. 
He pulls himself up, his knees cracking as he does, and walks over to where the guitar sits. After some tuning and quiet adjustments, he sits on the edge of Sophia's bed and smiles at the two little girls staring at him with sleepy eyes. "Now, I haven't played this one in a while, so you be nice to your old man, but I used to play this for Sarah all the time when she was y'all's age." He says as his fingers find the chords. The girls are enraptured as Joel plays a quiet rendition of My Girl by The Temptations. He changes the lyrics to "My girls/talkin' bout my girls," and they smile as his southern drawl fills the room with warmth and serenity. 
He notices their eyes getting heavier and their blinks getting a little longer each time, so he continues. "I don't need no money/ fortune or fame/ I got all the riches baby/ one man can claim/ well I guess you'd say/'What can make me feel this way?'/ my girls." He sings softly, his own eyes getting heavy with emotion as he thinks a little too hard about the lyrics. It doesn't help that the girls look just like you when they fall asleep. Joel has to cut himself off with a guitar riff to keep his voice from cracking and disrupting the girls. 
He plays another song or two just to make sure they're fully asleep before he carefully puts the guitar down and tucks his girls in. "Love you, Soph a Loaf," he whispers as he kisses Sophia's head. He repeats his actions at the other bed with a gentle, "Love you, Vi Pie," before tiptoeing out of the room. On the other side of the scribbled-on door sits Daisy with a smile on her face as she looks up at Joel. He smiles back and pets her head. 
"My girls." He sings to her, too, making her lean into his touch lovingly and stick close to him even when he goes back downstairs to let the girls rest. 
"Did you write a new song?" You ask that weekend when all the kids are down for the night, and Joel gives you a confused look.
"Not that I know of. Why?" He asks, and you shrug. 
"The girls asked if they could listen to 'Daddy's new song.'” You say. He chuckles and shakes his head. 
"D'you remember the song I used to sing when you were pregnant with the girls?" 
"Of course I do. It was the only way they'd settle down…" You extend your vowels as the connection sparks in your brain. 
"It was the only way I could get 'em to nap earlier this week. Played it on Ellie's guitar and everythin'." He says simply, and you take a deep breath as you stare at him. He's wearing a shirt Ellie helped design to raise money for kids in foster care, but it's stained with nail polish from when the girls decided he needed a manicure before he could play baseball with Sam in the backyard. He took it all in stride and didn't flinch at any of the insane requests your kids threw at him. You sigh and peel your eyes away from him. 
"It's really not fair how good of a dad you are," you sigh. "It's annoyingly hot." He smiles and kisses your cheek smugly. 
"Sorry." 
TAGLIST: @abbyhaslongshorts @kiwiharrykiwi @sumsworldz @myloveistoolittle @anavatazes @marantha
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moiravim · 9 months
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I Miss When We First Met: Chapter 10
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YN Potter falls in love with Draco Malfoy. Along with that, her relationship with her brother, Harry begins to fall apart as she was sorted into Slytherin. Will Harry find out about the relationship between his enemy and his sister?
IMWWFM: Masterlist
Neville hadn't talked to you for the rest of the school year. Harry was also ignoring you, and when he wasn't he was just talking about how evil you are.
No matter what you did, he wouldn't listen to you. "Come on, Harry! You know me better than anyone, you don't actually think I'm that bad..." You say, trying to get him to drop it and apologize.
But he doesn't. "Did Neville tell you something..?" You ask. Maybe It was because he knew about Draco. You didn't think your brother would really hate you just because you were sorted into a different house.
Harry's head immediately snapped to you as he asked; "What? What would he have told me?".
"It's nothing! It's none of your business. Can you please just talk to me?" You ask, tears almost filling your eyes.
"What did you do to him!" He yells at you, his stance getting defensive. You immediately ran off to your shared room, closing the door before making sure to lock him out.
You sobbed, letting all your tears out. You didn't cry often, so when you did you also let out the build up of tears.
You cried out, thinking about how everyone hates you. Both Harry and Neville. You had convinced yourself that Neville had been sending you letters during the summer.
You knew if he had been, the Dursleys would have been tossing them out. You told yourself that's what had happened, but deep inside you knew he was still mad at you.
You unlocked the bedroom door and laid back in your bed, immediately falling asleep. It was only 5pm, but you couldn't stand staying awake any longer.
You woke up to Harry being scolded by Vernon and Petunia. You had watched as your freedom slowly got more and more limited as the school year approached.
The door slammed and you heard the door lock both you and Harry in your room. "What happened..?" You ask, rolling over from your comfortable spot in bed.
"It's none of your business. Go back to bed" he responds, sitting on his bed. You looked over at him to see him intently staring at his owl.
You turned back around and closed your eyes, falling back asleep. The next day, The Dursleys had guests coming over and they told both you and Harry to stay in your room and to make no noises.
The two of you awkwardly walked back to your room, but when you arrived you saw a house elf jumping on Harry's bed.
He introduced himself as Dobby and said he had heard a lot about the two of you. You sat on your bed, trying to tune them out as he talked to Harry.
Eventually Dobby ended up getting Harry into trouble, causing a huge fit from the Dursleys.
They put bars up on your window, complicating things even more. "Any chance of us going to Hogwarts is gone now" You said, glaring at Harry.
"I haven't done anything! If it's anyone's fault it's yours" Harry snapped back. "What have I ever done? You're the one always getting us in the trouble!" I yelled back, my eyes filling with tears.
He rolled his eyes at you and you watched a blue, flying car come into view. You watched in disbelief as he got in the car, leaving you.
"Harry, what about your sister?" Fred said as he made eye contact with you. Your eyes started to water as you fidgeted with your hands.
"She can stay here. She'd just cause more problems at Hogwarts" He said with a harsh voice.
Fred and George gave each other a look, before George backed Fred up. "Yeah, YN. Get your things and come with us. Hurry!"
You got your things and we're forced to squish into the same seat as Harry.
He gave you dirty looks the whole time as you held in your tears. All of the sudden youth been so emotional, things have been too overwhelming.
Harry knew you almost never cried, causing him to believe you were doing it for attention and to get what you want. It only ain't good him more when you showed emotions.
And when he got mad you got more emotional, causing a cycle to form.
The rest of the time with the weasleys had been akward and you hadn't felt at home again until you had gotten back to the Hogwarts Express.
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bleeding-star-heart · 7 months
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These tags on a reblog of my Anders analysis are another problem I have with DA:2's writing
#god i have so many feelings about this#cuz i romanced anders my first playthrough#and i hated that our relationship did a 180 as soon as I was like#“im not gonna let you gaslight me into doing war crimes”#was it OOC?#i don't know#I can't say#I haven't studied anders as a character or taken the time to contemplate him enough to speak on it#but i just know it was such a turn off that i started a new game entirely EDIT: I have removed the word "gaslighting" from this meta owing to the fact that technically, Anders isn't gaslighting, because gaslighting is something different. Gaslighting being trying to make someone doubt their perception of reality, among other things. What Anders ACTUALLY does falls under emotional manipulation. I would say to the OP that yes, indeed, this is VERY "out of character", so to speak. Most definitely for JUSTICE, the spirit inhabiting Anders's body. But also for Anders as well. Think about it: emotionally manipulating one's romantic partner is an inherently unjust thing to do. It is not something two people who respect and love each other do. Yet the spirit of Justice is completely silent when it happens. A being that supposedly embodies nothing but Justice simply...allows his host to guilt his lover into doing something they disagree with. He does not protest or try to stop Anders from engaging in a truly toxic form of emotional manipulation. If written properly, Justice should immediately have called Anders out on this. Which should prompt either an apology from Anders or a long, seemingly one-man argument between the two. But that doesn't happen. In fact, Justice only shows up if you, as Anders's rival, manage to turn him AGAINST blowing up the Chantry. And then, only to railroad Anders back into the role of terrorist. This, combined with Justice's general lack of reaction to any injustice or violation of rights that DOESN'T have to do with mages, causes him to become little more than a cheap plot device. Now as to why I don't believe a properly written Anders would do it, either. Anders at this point in the story is a revolutionary, yes. He is passionate about his cause. But he is also MORE than that. And part of that 'more'-and also WHY he's a revolutionary-is that he was a victim of a controlling, emotionally manipulative institution. One that bombards people like him with all kinds of unhealthy messaging. Messages like: the outside world is guaranteed to hate you, your (unchangeable) nature is inherently wrong and sinful. As well as: you can't trust yourself at all, you are one bad day from being a monster, you need to let us control you for your own good. Anders probably saw more than one person like Keili-that girl in the Mage Origin who actively believes she's evil and prays to 'not be a mage'. He probably encountered a lot of mages with varying degrees of religiously based self-loathing. He probably had some himself. And he lived in the Ferelden Circle. He's also a person who not only left a toxic institution, but actively sees and complains about how toxic the institution is. People who've suffered from toxic environments/relationships and RECOGNIZE how toxic those environments/relationships were, tend to value healthy relationships/environments. They try and work on themselves to remove any lingering psychological effects of that toxicity. It is highly likely that Anders would NOT want to repeat the kind of emotional manipulation he and others were subjected to. While he might not agree with Hawke about methods, Anders would not believe guilt to be a good tactic because guilt is one of the very tactics the Chantry used on him! Guilt about being a target for demonic possession, guilt about what the magisters did, guilt about being a mage in general.
Guilting his partner into agreeing with him, is, essentially, him doing what the Chantry did to him. And if the writers had put any thought into his character, they would have realized that too. And thus, if they were smart, or and simply give the player the option to permanently decline the quest with no negative consequences. The other option is to lean into that, and purposefully make it a character flaw, that he's too blinded by trauma to see that. But the writers did NOT have the time to be able to successfully pull that off. Thus, yeah. They make Anders, who suffered from religious based emotional manipulation...into someone who emotionally manipulates his partners. Which is yet another thing done in the name of a less-than-stellar ending and plot beat. EDIT: I have removed the word "gaslighting" from my part of this meta owing to the fact that technically, Anders isn't gaslighting Hawke, because gaslighting is something different. Gaslighting being trying to make someone doubt their perception of reality, among other things. What Anders ACTUALLY does falls under emotional manipulation. Which I still don't believe a properly written Anders OR Justice would do, for the reasons stated above.
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