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55sturn · 2 months

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.𖥔 ݁ ˖ SWALLOWIN’ MY PRIDE

↳ series masterlist!

↳ summary: in which chris is forced to swallow his pride as he comes to terms with the new that y/n has shared, realizing it’s not just her fault. however when he mentions the alternatives, he fails to see how much it hurts his girlfriend.

↳ pairings: boston bruins player!chris sturniolo x fem!reader!

↳ warnings: swearing, angst, chris not wanting a kid, verbal arguments, big talks about abortions and giving the kid up for adoption, mentions and descriptions of vomiting, a loooot of angst tbh.

↳ important things to note: this is a heavy chapter so please keep that in mind if you choose to keep reading, i’ve done my part and have warned you about what this chapter entails so please do yours and close out of this fic if you cannot handle those topics. i am not your mother i cannot stop you, but if you choose to keep going despite being uncomfortable with the things i’ve warned you about, you are not allowed to get upset with anyone but yourself. enjoy<3

THIRD PERSON POV

chris was left utterly speechless as he stared at the thin plastic stick in his hand. the only thing running through his mind, was “what am i going to do? i just signed the contract today?” he felt guilty being so absorbed in his doubts about his career but it was something he had worked for his entire life. he knew his concerns were selfish, he knew that, but he couldn’t stop worrying about them.

the words “we’re pregnant, chris.” rang in his ears like a bell chiming, he felt his breath get stuck in his throat and he wasn’t able to breathe. he quickly shifted y/n off his lap so he could begin pacing, he held his head in his hands as his skates clunked against the padded locker room floor.

“what the fuck are we going to do y/n?” chris spits, his voice broken and unsteady as he looks at his girlfriend, her eyes red with unshed tears as she shook her head softly and shrugged.

“i don’t know chris.”

“why weren’t you careful?” chris exclaims, unintentionally putting all the blame on her as her head snaps up, her brows furrowed tightly as she breathes out a listless laugh.

“how is this all my fault?”

“i’m not saying it’s your fault. but why didn’t you just get an abortion?”

“in case you forgot what you were taught in fifth grade health class, it takes two people to make a baby, chris. you were the one that wanted to hit it raw and you promised to pull out but clearly you didn’t. and i didn’t want to abort it without your input because this child is half of you, too. and i would not be able to sit through that alone!“ she scoffs, tears dripping down her cheeks as she stares up at him, guilt and regret chipping away at the slight glimmer of hope that chris would be okay with it that she held.

“i just signed a good contract baby, i can’t miss my games for this shit.” chris sighs, his heart rate slowing down, but his mind was still racing, leaving him blind to the internal battle his girlfriend was facing.

he felt sick, he had everything mapped out for the next five years and this baby completely threw a wrench in everything that he had meticulously planned. there was no way a baby this early in his career would look good, it’d make him look reckless and uncaring about his job.

“do you not think i’ve been thinking about that, chris? that’s the only thing i’ve been thinking about since i found out or even had the slightest idea i was pregnant, i have been terrified of derailing the life plans you’ve set up for yourself and i don’t know what the fuck to do but what i do know, is that we’re pregnant and we have to make a decision about this. so until you’ve processed this, you can stay with one of your brother’s, i will be waiting at home.” y/n replies, her voice gradually getting quieter and breaking even more as she finishes. wiping her tears, she quickly exists the room, the need to vomit overcoming her.

her mind wouldn’t stop racing. it brought every possible scenario to the surface and she was beyond scared. what was she going to do? chris sure as hell didn’t seem to want the baby, and she thought she didn’t either but talking about it to chris had her realizing that she wants a family more than anything.

as she knelt in front of the toilet , she couldn’t help but laugh internally. finding out you’re expecting a child was supposed to be a joyous and happy time. finding out that you’re carrying a life that is half of yourself and the person you’re in love with, the person you’re fully committed to for life, was supposed to have you feeling over the moon. and instead, it had y/n’s stomach twisting with guilt, regret, heartache, and distress.

ash she wiped her mouth and flushed the toilet, she sat on the edge of it, letting her tears fall as she let the feelings of hopelessness and loss fully consume her heart. would she really see this pregnancy to term if chris didn’t want anything to do with her and the baby? if she did, would she let chris back into her life when he decides he wants a family? or would he seek a family somewhere else?

“how the fuck am i going to survive this without him?” she whispered to herself, quickly exiting the public washroom and making a beeline for the front entrance.

chris on the other hand, was stoic as stared at the wall opposite of him, the thin plastic stick beside him taunting him and his mind, almost as if it was telling him that he was acting selfishly. instead of comforting his girlfriend, who was as equally terrified of their recent news as chris, if not more? he blamed her. he yelled at her.

he callously told her to abort their baby to be. to get rid of the life growing inside her as if it meant nothing. as if it wasn’t the product of two people that loved each other deeply. even if it wasn’t planned or considered, that child to be was still the result of chris and y/n’s love. of the fact that they held each other so closely that they made love without any preventative measures. but chris couldn’t look at it that way, he didn’t want to.

his focus was on his career, hockey was everything to him. it made him everything he is. but was hockey really the only thing that mattered to chris? as he mulled over the answer, images of y/n sobbing as she held the freshly positive test, of her sobbing and scared in front of him waiting for him to pull her into his arms in the middle of that locker room flash through his mind. he felt guilty, he hadn’t even hugged her as she sobbed, he so badly wishes he could rewind the clock a few minutes so he could react differently but he couldn’t.

he knew he wanted a family at some point in his life, but now? it was so early. he wanted to bask in all the glory of being the newest and youngest star on the bruins without the responsibilities of his personal life hanging over his head. but that wasn’t possible.

as his team made their way down the hall, chris shoved the test into the side pocket of his hockey bag and plastered a fake smile on his face. the team cheered and hollered as they had won the game. chris joined in on the festivities, briefly forgetting the decision he had to make as the team got dressed in their suits and dress clothes, deciding to hit the bar in the lounge above the rink nd celebrate their win and landing bracket in the playoffs.

y/n was in the complete opposite state, she sat at the table, the meal she had prepped hours ago as soon as she got home after leaving the game early sat on the table in front of her. it had grown cold and stale as she tried to bring the urge to eat to life but she couldn’t bear the thought of choking back her food. she hated eating without chris. she knew he wasn’t going to join her after she told him to stay with one his brothers, but out of pure muscle memory she made a plate for him and it sat across the table from her, taunting her, as if to say “this is what your future will look like if chris decides he doesn’t want the baby.” and it broke her heart into a million shards.

could she really handle a life without him? they’ve been together for so long as it is. was it worth it to go through everything that they have already, just for a child to tear them apart? she didn’t know the answer to that and she didn’t want to. she hoped that somehow, chris’ mind would change and he would have this great epiphany and realize he wants this, the family life with y/n.

she knew how important this spot on the bruins’ team was to chris, she knew that more than anybody else. but was it more important than a life with the woman he called his soulmate? was his career more important to him than his relationship?

y/n, truthfully, had began to believe it was. he would call off dates and anniversary dinners to go hang out with the team, he would come home late the nights he promised to be home early. he put so much of their time together on the back burner, and maybe this child was the wake-up call she needed. maybe she wasn’t cut out for the life of dating a superstar hockey player.

sighing, she cleared the plates off, putting the leftovers in an air-tight container and leaving them for her or, hopefully, chris to eat another day. she quickly loaded the dishwasher and started it before cleaning the rest of the kitchen. as she had finished, she flicked off the main kitchen light, leaving the light above the stove on so that when chris came home, if he had made up his mind yet, he wouldn’t be surrounded by complete darkness. but she knew in the back of her mind, chris coming home tonight was just wishful thinking.

as she laid in bed, she scrolled through instagram, chris’ story updates catching her eye. pressing down on his profile circle surrounded by a pinkish purple ring, she was met with the sight of chris and john shot gunning beer in their suits, leaving her slightly hurt that instead of talking about things with her or his brothers he chose to party with his team. she knew that making an appearance at the after parties was important, she had just hoped their situation was more important. but refusing to let herself dwell on what she meant to chris, she rolled over and willed herself to sleep.

it had been a few days since her confession to chris and she had yet to hear even just a single word from him. and the silence was killing her. after her doctors appointment, which confirmed that she was in fact two months along, she had received texts of congratulations and more from his family so she assumed he had said something and maybe he wasn’t completely ashamed of what was happening, but she had a gnawing feeling of doubt in her stomach telling her that wasn’t the case.

“matt i don’t know what to think.” chris sighed, looking to his more level-headed brother for advice in this situation.

“well chris, do you really want her to abort it? like can you live with the fact that you’re putting her through that, you know that she’s completely all for it, but it’s different when it’s the one going through it. so would you be able to live with the fact that you’re pushing her to take away this chance, both of yours and hers, at a family right now?”

“well when you word it that way-“

“and who’s to say that you won’t be looking at having a family the same way down the line if, let’s say, she aborts the baby now and this entire thing happens again? would you put her through it twice? when you could just as easily implement all the later plans with your career that included a family into your plans for now. it would be much easier to maneuver things around right because the ink on your contract has barely dried yet. you do it later down the line and shit could go up in flames. but if you’re still dead set on pushing her to an abortion, by all means do it. it’s up to you man but from the way you’ve talk about it, y/n wants to have a family so what you’re doing is most likely killing her, and if you pushing her to do this wrecks your relationship, you won’t find another girl to love you the way she does. and i know you didn’t actually ask for it, but my opinion is that you’re being a fucking idiot. you and i both know that all you’ve wanted with y/n is to raise a family. you talked about your future kids’ names with her two months into the start of your relationship. so i’m not sure why you’re doing all this shit, chris.” matt rambled, his words cutting directly into the flesh of chris’ heart, he knew matt was right. every word he spoke nothing but truth clinging to it. so why was he putting both him and y/n, mainly y/n, through all of this? sighing, chris nodded and thanked him for the advice before plucking his keys off the counter of matt’s kitchen before heading out the door and climbing into his car.

chris made quick work of driving home to y/n, he felt so unbelievably guilty for leaving her alone with her thoughts for as long as he had. as he stepped into their shared home, he felt like an intruder, he didn’t feel like himself, because in what world would chris, the same chris who is so unbelievably and irrevocably in love with y/n, push her to terminate their child? chris should’ve been ecstatic and sobbing over the news. instead he let his job cloud his judgement and focus, and he felt terrible.

“baby?” chris calls out, quickly climbing the entryway stairs and standing in the main hallway, waiting for y/n to answer.

“in here.” she calls back, her voice tired and strained from all the crying she had done. as chris rounds the corner into their room, his heart breaks at the sight of her curled up on his side of the bed in his hoodie.

“i am so sorry y/n, i’ve been an asshole.”

“i’ll say.” she whispers, shifting back to her side of the bed as chris climbs in beside her.

“i want to apologize for blaming you, it’s not your fault. and for suggesting an abortion without actually hearing what you want. if you want one, i’ll support you. i talked to matt and he made me realize what a jackass i’ve been. if you genuinely want this baby, then i do too. i love you, and i want you to be safe and happy. and if having a family makes you happy, then i’m willing to raise this baby with you because in all honesty, i do want this baby.”

“what about your career?”

“we’ll figure that out when we need to.”

“okay. i love you.”

“i love you forever and a day, y/n. i’m so sorry i’ve been so shitty, i was scared and lashed out on you when i should’ve acknowledged that you were scared too, i shouldn’t have let you deal with it on your own.” chris hums, wrapping his arms around her as she dries her tears and rest her head against his chest.

↳ taglist: @dylsdunbar @verosivy @soursturniolo @4sturns @sturnsclutter @spencerstits @meanttomeet @bluesturniolo333 @graciereid @abbie13sworld @ghostofbrock @l9vesick @mylifeisevenstranger @bethsturn @ifilwtmfc @themattgirl @lovingmattysposts @lacysturniolo @freshsturns @forevergirlposts @sturniolo-fav-matt @cupidsword @strawberrysturniolo @lustfulslxt @sturnifyed @carolsturns1 @teapartyprincess4two @mangosrar @querenciasturniolo @pinklittleflower @cutenote @ellie-luvsfics @strniolo @junnniiieee07 @33sturniolo @heartz4chris @hearts4chris @evie-sturns @nicksmainbitch @gnxosblog @sturniolopepsi

↳ this story is far from over, let me know if you want a part three <3 there’s gonna be so much angst i actually feel bad which is crazy bc i never feel bad for writing angst

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kiarastromboli · 1 month

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𝐁𝐞𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐝 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐨𝐧:

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐃𝐞𝐩𝐭𝐡𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐎𝐛𝐬𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧.

𝐌𝐚𝐭𝐭 𝐒𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐨 𝐱 𝐲/𝐧

⋆♱✮♱⋆♱✮♱⋆♱✮♱⋆♱✮♱⋆♱✮♱⋆♱✮♱⋆♱✮♱⋆♱✮♱⋆♱✮♱⋆♱

𝕄𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕝𝕚𝕤𝕥

𝕎𝕒𝕣𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘: Masturbation, smoker!reader.

𝕊𝕦𝕞𝕞𝕒𝕣𝕪: Matt's life is going to be completely upheaved by an encounter he will have one day at work, leading him to discover a new feeling: obsession.

ℕ𝕠𝕥𝕖: I'm glad to come back with this new series that I had in mind for a while. I hope you'll enjoy it. The first chapter is from Matt's point of view, but it's possible that in the days to come, the point of view will shift to that of the reader. Anyway, I'll inform you beforehand. Feel free to ask me in the comments if you want to be part of the taglist. Enjoy reading!

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟐, 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐢𝐭𝐫𝐞 𝟑

⋆♱✮♱⋆♱✮♱⋆♱✮♱⋆♱✮♱⋆♱✮♱⋆♱✮♱⋆♱✮♱⋆♱✮♱⋆♱✮♱⋆♱

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟏:

My life has always been a damn bottomless pit without interest. I grew up in a normal family, in a normal town surrounded by normal people; there was nothing special about me.

I've always had this feeling of discomfort, like something was missing from my life.

In high school, I tried to fill that void with sports like any other teenager, but nothing worked.

I was fortunate to be a triplet, so I started life with people to love and who loved me in return.

Naturally, people think that having siblings erases the loneliness of life, but it's false. I had my brothers, but I still felt that emptiness and loneliness.

As I grew older, I realized that I would never fill this void, that I was destined to have an uninteresting life and become Mr. Average.

I moved to New York, where I found a job in a bookstore, which seemed more than logical given my passion for books.

I lived five minutes away from my brother Chris, and Nick, my other brother, continued his studies in Boston.

My weeks repeated and resembled each other.

I worked on Monday, Tuesday, Thursday, Friday, and Saturday. On Wednesday, I spent the day with Chris; most of the time, we just went out to eat and stroll. As for Sunday, I dedicated it to my motorcycle rides and various hobbies.

By various hobbies, I mean fleeting activities that I forced myself to practice to keep me from losing my mind from living the same days on repeat.

But all of that was before her.

When I saw her for the first time, I felt like I was waking up after an endless sleep.

It was a Thursday evening, we were about to close, I just had to put away the last books we had received, and I could finally close the shop and go home.

That was until I heard the sound of the little bells at the entrance jingling as the door opened.

I sighed when I heard the door open, thinking, 'Another bookworm waiting until the last moment to come get their fill of books.'

I went back to the counter to wait for the person who was there to bring me their book so I could quickly scan it and finally go home.

I honestly expected a student with glasses or some nonsense like that, so I was surprised to see this brown-haired girl a few meters away from me, browsing the shelves to find what she wanted.

I'm not the type to linger on pretty girls, but she had something extra.

She was wearing this navy blue sweater three sizes too big for her, which forced her to roll up her sleeves, and you could see the collar of her white shirt peeking out underneath.

With that, she wore a small brown pleated skirt that matched the bow she had in her hair.

An outfit that said a lot and so little at the same time.

I'm the type to analyze people on a daily basis; it's my thing when you work in a bookstore like this one in New York, you get bored very quickly.

I had a little game with myself where I enjoyed deciphering the people who entered this shop, first by their way of dressing, then by their mannerisms, and finally, I drew a conclusion based on the book they bought.

However, I was stuck on her way of dressing; I couldn't really figure it out. Her outfit was simple and casual, sure, but there was this complexity with her accessories that made me wonder if she did it on purpose or if she just randomly picked out clothes.

I mean, who pairs such a large sweater with such a small skirt? Maybe it's her boyfriend's sweater?

When I thought that, I felt anger rising within me, but why? I don't even know her; what does it matter to me whether she has a boyfriend or not?

I shook my head to try to think of something else and continued to observe her.

She had been wandering around the store for five minutes, stopping at each aisle without ever grabbing a book. Does she even read, or did she just come here thinking she'd find a fun book to read for once?

Even her behavior was indecipherable; the more I looked at her, the more intrigued I became.

She finally stopped at the romance section, where she picked up a book before walking towards me with a big smile.

Strangely, I felt a certain stress when her eyes landed on me; I hadn't realized how harmonious her face was.

"Good evening," she said warmly, placing the book in front of me.

"Good evening," I replied nervously.

"I hope I'm not bothering you by coming at this hour. I'm new in town, and I thought you closed later," she said politely.

"No worries; I didn't have anything planned after anyway," I replied without looking at her; I was far too intimidated for that.

I scanned her book, and of course, that's when the cash register decided not to work properly, leaving us face to face in an awkward silence while I tried to open the register.

She seemed amused, judging by the little chuckle she let out, and when I looked up at her, she simply said, "Sorry," timidly, unable to suppress the little smile on her lips.

I finally managed to unlock the cash register, then gave her the change and reached for a small bag to put her purchase in.

That's when I saw the book she had chosen.

"Pride and Prejudice, good choice," I said without thinking too much.

"I know, I've read it already," she said, chuckling, and I looked up at her to watch her.

"It's a gift," she added.

"For your boyfriend?" I said again without thinking, and this time I quickly added, "Sorry, that was very intrusive of me."

She looked at me with a smile before saying, "For a friend, I don't have a boyfriend."

"Good to know," I replied, handing her the book.

She took the bag with her book inside and turned to start walking towards the exit, and I was dying to catch up with her to continue talking, but I stood there frozen like an idiot.

She walked through the door, and I sighed.

My heart started beating normally again, and I felt a sense of longing in her absence.

My life, which until now had been flat and uninteresting, was unknowingly taking a whole new turn.

I finished tidying up the bookstore, trying to distract myself, but she continued to haunt my thoughts.

I kept asking myself hundreds and thousands of questions.

Will I see her again? What did she think of me? What's her name? What does she do for a living?

Fuck, what had she done to me? I thought as I pushed the door of the store to leave and locked it behind me.

Unintentionally, the key to my apartment detached from the keychain around my waist, and I hadn't noticed until a familiar voice informed me.

"Hey, you dropped this!" the girl from the bookstore said, catching my attention and tapping my shoulder.

I turned around and felt my heart race again when I found myself face to face with her; if she keeps this up, she'll give me a heart attack.

"Thanks," I said, taking my keys from her hand.

Unintentionally, my eyes roamed over her body, analyzing her.

I noticed the butt of a cigarette she held in her other hand, probably the reason she was still around.

"No problem," she said, smiling.

"Can I ask your name, if it's not too forward?" I asked, curious.

"Y/n," she said, extending her hand after finishing her cigarette and tossing it to the ground to crush it with her foot.

"I'm—" I started to say before she cut me off.

"Matt, yeah, I know," she said quickly, and I looked at her confused.

She knows my name?

"Oh, um, it was on your apron earlier, I promise I'm not a weirdo," she said, chuckling, and I chuckled too.

She seems observant too, interesting.

"You don't really seem like a weirdo, if that reassures you," I said, smiling.

"And you don't seem like a guy who reads romance novels; I guess we can all be surprising, maybe you should watch out," she said, shrugging with a smirk.

"Pride and Prejudice is a classic; I work in a bookstore, I have to know my classics," I replied.

"Fair enough," she said, smiling.

A moment of silence ensued, leaving us there in the middle of the street, staring into each other's eyes.

"Are you just passing through here?" I asked, to break the unbearable silence.

"Hm?" she simply hummed, confused.

"You said you were new here earlier," I clarified.

"Oh, um, no, let's just say I'm in the process of settling in," she said, nodding.

"Great, I hope to see you around here then," I said, smiling.

"There's a chance that could happen; this bookstore seems nice, and who knows, maybe I'll need a friend who knows their stuff to advise me," she said, smiling back.

"You already consider me your friend? Wasn't it you who said I should watch out?" I teased her.

"Oh, because you thought I was talking about you? No way, I was talking about my friend who works at the same bookstore as you!" she said, trying to justify herself.

"Oh, really? I probably know that friend then," I said with a smirk.

"Okay, you got me; I'm a big liar," she said, raising her hands, and I laughed.

"I already suspected that," I said, chuckling.

We stayed silent once again, staring into each other's eyes before she spoke again.

"Well, I have to go if I want to have a chance to catch a taxi before it's too late," she said, playing with the ends of her hair.

"I can drop you off if you live nearby," I offered.

"Whether by car or taxi, the journey is still long in the streets of New York, and I don't want to bother you with an extra 20-minute ride," she said timidly.

"I guess it's a good thing I have a motorcycle then," I said, pointing to my bike parked a few steps away.

"I don't know... um," she said, shaking her head hesitantly.

"If you don't trust me and prefer to go by taxi, I totally understand, I won't hold it against you," I said reassuringly.

"You know what? Fuck this; a little danger never hurt anyone, and anyways, if you try to kidnap me, know that I did boxing in middle school, so I won't go down without a fight," she said, pointing her finger at me, and I laughed.

"Alright, Mike Tyson, let me just grab my spare helmet from the bookstore," I said, chuckling before doing just that.

When I returned, I handed her the helmet, which she put on.

She got on behind me after indicating where she lived, and we hit the road directly.

We weaved through traffic, and I could feel her little arms tighten around my waist with each acceleration.

I couldn't help but slightly harden beneath my jeans because of the proximity between us; I could feel her chest pressing against my back.

This girl had something that made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up when I looked at her.

She smelled like vanilla and cigarettes.

She was destabilizing, and I felt like I was losing my balance with every word she uttered.

Once we arrived at her destination, I stopped my motorcycle in front of her apartment complex.

It was large and luxurious.

I wondered if she was a daddy's girl to live here, or if she simply had a good job. In either case, this girl clearly wasn't short on money.

"Thanks for the ride," she said, smiling, after taking off her helmet to hand it back to me.

"It was my pleasure," I said, removing my helmet and staying on the bike while she got off.

"That was really nice; I'm glad I made a new friend," she said, quickly fixing her hair.

"So, we're friends?" I said, smiling.

"Of course," she replied, smiling back.

"Great," I said timidly, and a new silence fell.

"Um, I'm going to head in; it's getting late. Good night, Matt," she said this time in a much softer voice.

Why the sudden change in tone?

"Good night, Y/n," I replied, and she turned to walk towards her apartment complex.

I couldn't help but watch her as she went inside. I should have immediately started my bike and left, but I was stuck in place.

She paused in front of her stairs for a moment before suddenly turning around and running back towards me.

I watched her return, a little confused, and when she reached me, she simply said, "Hi."

"Hi," I replied, a bit confused but smiling.

"Is it weird if I suggest we see each other again? It's a friendly offer, of course; you just seem really interesting, and I felt silly leaving like that without suggesting we meet again," she said quickly, and I chuckled at her tone.

"Of course. I finish early on Saturdays; just drop by the bookstore, and we'll go for another motorcycle ride if you want," I said, smiling.

"Sounds great!" she exclaimed excitedly.

"Well, goodbye for real this time," she said, chuckling.

"Bye," I replied, watching her leave before putting my helmet back on and heading home on my motorcycle.

On the journey back, I had only one thing on my mind: her.

Arriving home, I was surprised to find that my erection hadn't subsided.

How could this girl make me so hard without even touching me?

I felt bad for getting hard like this over a girl who seemed as innocent as her. What was wrong with me that I'd do something like this?

I sighed and slumped onto my couch.

I took off my pants and slid my hand under my boxers to touch the bulge there.

I started to stroke myself, unable to stop myself from thinking about her at that moment.

Her sparkling eyes, her long brown hair, her full lips that I was dying to kiss...

Why was she affecting me like this?

Her curves vaguely hidden by her oversized sweater, her legs, and especially her thighs that looked nice and soft.

"Oh my god," I muttered in a low voice, speeding up my movements and throwing my head back.

Her laughter and her voice, yes, her soft and slightly husky voice, almost like she was sick.

I edged dangerously close to the edge, and that's when I remembered her change in tone when she said, "Um, I'm going to head in; it's getting late. Good night, Matt," almost as if she was inviting me to follow her home and do all the things I was dying to do to her.

Maybe she was just as eager as I was. For my hands on her body, my lips on hers, and my name coming out of her mouth.

I thought about what she would look like sitting on me without her clothes, screaming my name, and it pushed me over the edge.

"Y/n," I moaned before climaxing.

I can't deny it any longer, this girl is clearly becoming my obsession.

⋆♱✮♱⋆♱✮♱⋆♱✮♱⋆♱✮♱⋆♱✮♱⋆♱✮♱⋆♱✮♱⋆♱✮♱⋆♱✮♱⋆♱

Taglist: @mayhem-72 @tillies33ssss @junnniiieee07 @bernardenjoyer @whicked-hazlatwhore @nicksmainbitch

#chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo #sturniolo edit #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo smut #sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #smut #beyond reason

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katyswrites · 1 year

Text

don't call me 'baby'

PART 3 | SERIES

Pairing: Steve Harrington/fem!reader

Warnings: Sugardaddy!Steve, swearing, alcohol use, smoking, age gap, allusions to sex

Wordcount: 6.1k

A sugar daddy modern AU, a whirlwind summer romance in Italy, and two people from completely different walks of life, somehow finding each other in one of the most beautiful cities in the world. But, what will happen when summer ends?

PART 3 | this path is reckless (and I like it)

Six o’clock finally came torturously slowly, the minutes on the clock passing like molasses. At five minutes-to, the bell above the door rang, and Steve strolled in. He caught your eye to where you stood behind the counter, and nodded. You shot him a small smile, but felt your stomach turn - whether it was excitement or anxiety, you couldn’t quite tell. But, you couldn’t deny that you were happy to see him. You felt stupid, considering that he had explicitly said he wasn’t planning on asking you out - but, what else could it be?

As soon as Steve saw you making your way over, he smiled briefly, before nodding to the chair across from him. He already had ordered two coffees - one for himself, which he was halfway through, and a cappuccino, right at your seat.

“Hey there,” you said, feigning a casual and friendly air as you sat down. “Oh, um, thanks - you really didn’t need to order me anything.”

He shrugged. “I figured you might be tired - I took a wild guess about what you liked, though. Don’t feel like you have to drink it if you don’t want -”

“No, it’s great,” you assured. “I could probably do with a pick-me-up, anyways. Long day.”

“Okay, good,” he said. It was silent again for a moment, both of you just pretending to be incredibly interested in your drinks instead of each other, waiting for the other to say something. You already knew that this wasn’t a date. But, even worse, it didn’t feel like one at all - it felt more like a business meeting, between two strangers. Then again, isn’t that what you were?

You could only stand the anticipation for so long - you were many things, but patient wasn’t one of them.

“So… what did you want to talk to me about?” you asked. “Is this about last night? Because, i was pretty drunk, so - if you didn’t want me to kiss you, I’m sorry, that was my fault… I might’ve misread things, but if you aren’t interested, that’s fine - you’ve been more than nice, and I didn’t want you to think that I -”

“Why are you living in Italy?” he asked.

Not what you expected. Still, it was fair enough - beyond tourists, you were probably the first American he had encountered here.

“Oh - well… that’s kind of a long story.”

He shrugged again. “I’d love to hear it, if you want to tell me, that is.”

You thought for a moment, placing your mug on the table as you decided exactly which details to disclose to him.

“Well… my home life… let’s just say, it wasn’t great. I grew up in a tiny town in upstate New York, and… I mean, I knew I always wanted to get out of there. So, I applied to colleges as far as possible - mostly big cities, like New York, Boston, Chicago, even out in California. I didn’t plan on leaving the States, necessarily - but I applied to the American University of Rome, just for kicks, since I knew they offered a U.S.-accredited degree. I didn’t think I’d get in, let alone actually go. But, they made a great offer - basically a full ride. And, it got me as far from home as possible. So I left, and never really looked back. And now, I only have one semester left, which is pretty crazy, but… I’m glad I did it.”

It felt nice, to actually get that off of your chest - Robin was one of the only people you really ever talked about this stuff with. There was a lot still left unmentioned, but it still made the man across from you seem less like a stranger, like someone you could maybe trust.

“Was it hard? Moving to a whole other country, I mean?”

He was asking sincerely, but you were still wary as you answered.

“Yes, and no,” you admitted. “There was definitely a culture shock - I had to learn a lot about the city, the people, and a whole new language. But, it really is great here. And, I’m glad I found Robin - someone from home, kind of. But, it’s been… a lot of work.”

He raised an eyebrow. “In what way?”

You sighed, measuring your words carefully.

“I’ve done pretty well in school, but I didn’t know that Rome was one of the most expensive cities in the world until after I moved here. I mean, I scraped together most of the money I had just to buy my plane ticket. And, campus housing was expensive, so I bounced between hostels and friends’ couches my first couple of years, until I was able to save up a little. That took a bit, too - turns out Italy doesn’t have a set minimum wage, either. Who knew right?”

You chuckled dryly at that last part, and winced inwardly - that was far too much information, and he didn’t need to know any of that. You thought again about the money he had sent, how he casually had a personal driver on hand, the clothes he wore - he probably pitied you, couldn’t even be bothered to consider you as a -

“Is that why you have two jobs?” he inquired. There’s only sincerity behind his question, like he was truly trying to understand.

You nodded slowly, meeting his eyes. It occurred to you then that this felt like some strange job interview - well, a job interview with a man you drunkenly kissed on the sidewalk the night before. You shivered at the memory.

“How old are you again?” he asked.

“Twenty,” you replied, recalling his age from his I.D. - he had just turned thirty, if your math was right.

“Jesus,” he whispered, mostly to himself. He leaned back in his chair, brow furrowed. You noted how he was fidgeting a bit with his fingers, shifting in his seat - was he nervous? Why?

“Okay, I guess I’ll just get to it,” Steve conceded, leaning forward again. He folded his forearms on the table and leaned it, his gaze focused on yours. He was ramping up to something, but nothing could have prepared you for what.

“What if you didn’t have to worry about money anymore?” he posed, his voice low and steady.

You furrowed your brow, confused. You felt your stomach flip again, you mind racing to a million and one implications.

“I - what?”

He sighed, running one hand through his hair as he gathered himself.

“I - Jesus, okay, this is harder than I thought. I’ve never really done this before, so just, bear with me, yeah?”

You frowned, but nodded, giving him a moment to continue.

“First of all, don’t apologize for kissing me. I mean, I was really hoping you would,” he admitted.

You felt something flutter in your chest, and fought with everything you had to keep your face neutral.

“You - you were?”

He nodded.

“Yeah - I mean, not that I was expecting it, but - I wanted to. But - earlier, you said something about me not being interested in you… that’s not true.”

You wanted to jump up and down with glee, but you couldn’t help and feel that there was a big but coming.

“- but, I’m not exactly looking for anything right now. Well, anything serious. I just… a relationship can’t happen for me, not right now. And, I don’t know if that’s going to change anytime soon. I’m only in Italy until the end of the summer anyway.”

You felt your heart sink in your chest, like a balloon deflating. There it was - it explained a lot.

“Oh,” you said softly, doing your best to not let the disappointment bleed through. “That’s fine - I get it, really. Thanks for letting me know -”

“Wait, it’s not just that,” he explained. “I - fuck, okay, give me a second here. I was thinking of having an… arrangement, with you.”

You cocked an eyebrow, sitting up a bit straighter in your chair.

“An arrangement?” you echoed.

“Yeah,” he said. “I - I want to keep seeing you. But, with an understanding - that there wouldn’t be personal feelings involved, it’d just be something fun, for you and me. And, maybe you could occasionally be my date to work events, galas, that sort of thing.”

You kept your face as stoic as possible, taking in what he was asking. But before you could formulate a thought, he continued:

“And, in exchange… I could help you out. I can give you a monthly allowance, conver all your major bills, student loans, if you have any… and, if there’s anything you want to buy yourself, like, new shoes or something?”

“What makes you think I want shoes?” you bristled, suddenly becoming defensive as you truly started to comprehend what he was proposing.

“Nothing!” he exclaimed, backtracking. “I’m just saying that… if there’s anything you want, I can take care of it. To thank you, for your… discretion.”

You felt your face heat, the blood rushing into your cheeks and roaring in your ears. Here he was, a man you were only just getting to know, asking if you wanted to be his… his -

“You wouldn’t have to do anything you don’t want to do, of course,” he added quickly, his own cheeks starting to twinge pink. “I mean, I’d never pressure you into anything - I wouldn’t do this if you didn’t consent, I mean.”

“And if I don’t consent?” you asked, your words coming out as more of a snap than you intended.

“Then I’d leave here, right now, and you’d never have to see me again,” he assured. “And, I’d send you another sum of money to at least cover your rent for the rest of the year, for even insulting you with the offer. But… I do think this could help both of us.”

You bit your lip, grabbing a paper napkin from the table and twisting it in your hand.

“Can it? I just… I feel like you’re not the kind of guy that needs to pay for sex. I mean, what’s in it for you?”

He hesitated for a second, and it occurred to you that he’s nervous, perhaps more than you.

“It’s not just sex,” he admitted. “I mean - it’d be nice, to have someone kind of consistent, and to know she wouldn’t expect anything. That’s the point of the agreement, I guess. But also… you saw who I work with. They’re always on me, about being ‘married to my work,’ all of that. So -”

“You want me to be your arm candy?” you finished bluntly. He turned just a bit more red at that.

“I wouldn’t put it like that, but - yeah, basically. After that stunt at the restaurant… I think they’d respect me a lot more, to be honest.”

“And you think I’m pretty enough for that?” you asked dryly, mostly to yourself as you laughed inwardly at the idea.

“Yeah, I do,” he whispered.

You froze for a moment, caught off-guard by his response - and, you hated how it made something warm bubble inside your chest, especially in the given situation. You just nodded, tearing at the napkin in your hand.

“Can I just ask you one thing?” you posed.

“Sure, anything.”

“Why don’t you want a relationship?”

His eyes widened, like that was the last thing he ever expected. Something unreadable passed his features, and he thought for a moment before replying.

“Honestly? I’m really busy. HNL is working on expanding through Europe - or, in Brenner’s words, dominate. And, I’m trying to work my way up to CEO - I think I have a good shot, once he retires. Having someone… it’d distract me. And, I don’t think it’d be fair to her, either - I can’t fully commit the time, not right now.”

It was an honest answer, at least from what you could tell. Still, what he was proposing… It seemed crazy. Too good to be true. If he had taken you home last night, and just made it clear it was a one-time thing… you would have let it happen. You knew that with near-certainty. If Steve had just become a fun story to tell one day, that would’ve been fine by you. But this…

“Can I think about it?” you asked. He nodded vigorously.

“Yeah - yeah! Of course. Here -”

He handed you his phone, pulling up the blank contact form on the screen.

“- put your number in here. So you can get in touch, if you make a decision, or for… whatever.”

You took it from him, typing out your full name and phone number with shaky hands. Your palms were sweaty, the weight of what he wanted from you.

When you handed it back to him, he glanced down, and stuck the phone back in his pocket.

“Great - well, um, I’ve kept you long enough after work -”

“Oh, yeah - I should probably get home, anyways. I’m on dinner tonight, for me and Robs.”

He stood when you did, chairs scraping on the floor as you stepped away from the table, leaving two empty coffee mugs and a napkin torn to bits.

“Let me call my car, to drive you home -”

“No,” you said firmly. “I - I want to walk for a bit, actually. To clear my head, if that’s alright.”

He just nodded curtly, and you both just stared at each other for a moment. It was awkward now, like you were now leaving the job interview not knowing if you felt good about getting the job. Do you hug? Should you just leave?

You opted to shake his hand, extending your hand towards his until he took it. It felt strange to do that, but before you could dwell on it, you were mumbling a rushed talk to you soon, and running out the door.

As soon as you were out of sight of the coffee shop, you let out a deep exhale - this could not be your life. But somehow, it was.

As you walked down the cobblestone streets, you became convinced that the whole interaction was in your imagination - perhaps you were still dreaming, and your alarm clock would wake you up at any moment. That was, until, you heard your phone ding:

Maybe: Steve

Hey - this is Steve. Steve Harrington, in case you forgot - I realized you probably also need my number, right? Have a good night.

Jesus, he writes texts like a dad. A grandpa, even. You stared at the message for a moment, reading it a few times - yes, this was real. You took a moment to add the number to your contacts, typing out Steve Harrington slowly. Then, you stuck it in your bag, and continued on your walk, doing everything you could to not check it for the rest of the way.

Your walk home was nearly an hour - reasonably, you should’ve taken Steve’s offer, or at least the bus. But you charged ahead, breathing in the air as dusk started to overtake the day, the sky darkening to the telltale hues of pink and orange. Summer was beginning to show its face, the days stretching just a bit longer, the warmth just a bit more persistent, creeping in as spring met its final days.

It was your favorite time of year - just before the true heat of summer set in, the promise of bright days ahead and winter long-dead in its grave. And thankfully, it meant darkness was only truly settling in when you reached your apartment - you had arrived there on auto-pilot, spending your whole walk home thinking of Steve’s offer.

You were bouncing back and forth, between telling him to fuck himself, and jumping at the opportunity to take everything he had to offer you.

When you walked up to the third floor and jostled the door open with your keys, the apartment was dark - indicating that Robin had hardly left her room all day. But, you needed to talk to her. You needed someone else to tell you that this was insane, outlandish, unbelievable -

When you knocked on her door, you were met with a muffled hmmm, what?

You opened her bedroom door slowly, only to see Robin under her covers, her room still dark. She was only illuminated by the light of her phone’s screen, where she was no doubt doom scrolling for the last few hours, if not all day.

“Hey, you,” you whispered. “How’re you feeling?”

She groaned, sitting up in bed.

“Only marginally better. But, I think I’ve taken the legal limit of ibuprofen, so I have to wait the rest out.”

You chuckled, shaking your head.

“I would say I feel bad for you, but I’m not sure I do.”

She chucked a pillow in your direction, narrowly missing your head.

“Asshole,” she grumbled.

“Love you too,” you replied, sitting on the edge of her bed.

Robin rubbed her eyes, yawning.

“So, how was work?”

Jesus - how were you supposed to answer that question?

“Oh, uh - good, I guess. Well - okay, if I tell you something, will you promise not to freak out? Because like, I really need your advice here.”

“Uh, yeah, okay - that’s totally not ominous.”

“Well, you know Steve?”

“Our savior, you mean? Yeah. I mean, he did bring us back last night, right? I didn’t make that up?”

“No,” you confirmed. “You didn’t. But, before you found us last night… we kind of made out.”

That got Robin to sit up straight, looking more alive than she had all day.

“Oh? You made out with moneybags??? And didn’t tell me?”

“To be fair, you were incapacitated.”

Robin rolled her eyes playfully, then held up her hands defensively.

“Yeah, okay, whatever - well, did you get his number or something?”

You sighed, gathering yourself as you figured out how to answer that question.

“Well, kind of - not last night. But, he came to visit me at work today… I kind of told him where I worked last night while we were talking.”

Robin’s eyes widened, and she grinned.

“Wait, he showed up at work? Oh my God, he’s into you -”

“Not so fast,” you said. “I - he asked to meet with me after my shift. So, I did, and… well, he -”

“He what?” Robin asked, clearly impatient. “Did he ask you out? C’mon, you’re killing me here -”

“He offered to be my sugar daddy,” you said quickly, the words tumbling out. It was the first time you had said it out loud, and it felt ridiculous to even put it that way. But, that’s what it was, no matter how you sliced it.

For maybe the first time in her life, Robin had no words. Her mouth hung open, and you could’ve sworn you saw her brain reboot as she comprehended exactly what you just said.

“I - I’m sorry, what?”

“Well, that’s basically what he offered. Maybe there’s maybe a better term for it, but -”

“No, no, you need to tell me exactly what he said,” Robin demanded, crossing her legs on the bed.

So you did. You explained every detail of Steve’s offer, as best as you could remember, watching how every version of disbelief and awe passed Robin’s face. It was only after you were done that she spoke:

“So, you’re doing it, right?”

You stared at her, eyes wide.

“What? I - I thought you’d tell me it’s a terrible idea -”

“Girl, no - I mean, think about it. He’s offering to pay you, enough that you don;t have to wear yourself down with work anymore, and you’ll get laid? It’s a win-win. Besides, I don’t even like men, and I can acknowledge that the guy is pretty easy on the eyes. I mean, we’ve established he’s not a murderer, right?”

You shrugged.

“I think so - he told me his full name, knows that I told you everything - if he’s a murderer, he’s one who's looking to get caught. But… this is crazy, right?”

Robin just shrugged, a mischievous look in her eye.

“Maybe. But, who ever said crazy was bad? I mean, if you really don’t want to do it, then don’t. But, do you have any reason not to?”

It was those words that rang through your head, all through your dinner (which ended up being a modge-podge of leftovers, after realizing that neither of you had done a proper grocery shop in a while), all while you and Robin watched a movie, and long after she went to bed.

It was nearly midnight when you pulled out your phone, staring once again at Steve’s text. You knew you should probably respond via text - there was a good chance he was already asleep. But, something else compelled you to tap on his contact and press call.

One ring. Two. On the third, a muffled click, and his voice, groggy and low.

“Hello?”

“Hey,” you whispered. “It’s me.”

“Oh! Hello,” he replied, sounding considerably more awake.

“I’m sorry - were you asleep?”

“Hm? No, no - don’t worry about that. Are you okay?”

You nodded, before remembering that he couldn’t see you.

“Yeah - yes. It’s just… I’ve thought a lot about your offer.”

Silence. Then, “...okay? And?”

He sounded cautious, and maybe even hopeful. You took a deep, shuddering breath before answering:

“Yeah. Let’s do it.”

*******

You didn’t actually see Steve for a few days after that. You did receive a text the following morning from Steve, which only read:

Let me know what days and times you’re free. We can meet to set up the arrangements.

And that was what the next few days entailed. First, you had a Zoom meeting with Steve, which felt ridiculously formal. He explained that it was because he was at work, and it was easier this way - by the end of it, he had set you up with a personal separate checking account and a platinum credit card. You had insisted that it wasn’t necessary, afraid he’d get in trouble, but he had only waved off your concerns - don’t worry - you’d be surprised what some of my colleagues get up to. Besides, as far as my accountant is concerned, you’re a client.

A few days later, a car pulled up to your apartment - Steve’s car. Only, he wasn’t in it - his driver informed you that he was there to pick you up for your appointment. The appointment, it turned out, was with a seamstress named Valentina, a bombastic and impassioned woman who had once worked for Versace before leaving to open her own independent brand as a designer. As you stood on a raised block and she measured every inch of you, all she wanted to do was talk. She prattled on about her job, her wife, her annoying neighbor, the fact that she’s a week behind on tailoring a wedding gown for some politician’s daughter. You managed to ask how she knew Steve, and she explained how she’s tailored all of his work attire in the time he’s been in Europe - he’d even had his suit shipped to her during his winter in London. Her rambling was occasionally interjected with what lovely arms you have, or you’d look gorgeous in this color, don’t you think?

Eventually, you worked up the courage to ask, “So, uh, what exactly are you going to make for me? Like, a dress?”

Valentina stopped mid-measuring, glancing up from where she was kneeling in front of you.

“You don’t know?” she asked.

You just shook your head in response, and she laughed.

“Well, Signore Harrington was quite clear - I am to make you everything.”

You raised an eyebrow.

“What do you mean, everything?”

“He said that everything you want to wear is to be made by me. Or, if you buy something else you like, I’m meant to tailor it, too. That’s why I’m keeping your measurements on file - to make sure everything fits you just right.”

“Oh.”

That was all you could muster. You had seen all of the fine, beautiful piece at the front of Valentia’s shop when you arrived - you had assumed maybe she was making one dress for you, for a special occasion. Or, you’d be picking something from the shop, and that was it. But this… how much money did Steve have?

“Nothing but the best, for Signore Harrington,” Valentina continued, resuming her work. “Which means nothing but the best for his ragazza.”

Girlfriend. You didn’t know whether that was a cover story Steve told her, or just an assumption she’d drawn, but you just chose to not respond, even as the word and all of the falsehoods behind it swirled in your mind.

It wasn’t until nearly a week later that you actually heard from Steve again. It’s another text, and you don’t see it until your lunch break during a coffee shop shift. It reads:

Are you busy tonight?

You stared at the text for a few moments, pondering everything it implied. Was this it? The beginning of… whatever this was? You took a moment to think, then replied:

No, why? I work until 4 and then I’m free

You saw the three dots appear for a second, then disappear. Then, his reply:

You’re working?

Yea I always work 8-4 on Thursdays

You don’t need to do that, you know.

Are you saying I’m not allowed to?

Of course you are, but just know that you don’t need to. I’ll take care of you.

You read that last sentence a few more times than was probably necessary. Then, he texted again:

So, you are free tonight, yes?

You pause for a moment before sending yes.

Great - I’ll come pick you up at 7? Let’s do dinner.

Then, the bell above the door was ringing, and your manager was calling for you as the line of customers grew, your 15-minute break somehow already over.

Sounds good see you then

That was how you found yourself practically sprinting out the door when your shift ended, just barely catching the bus, internally wishing it would skip every other stop by some miracle and get you home as quickly as possible. That, of course, doesn’t happen, and you briefly wondered if you should’ve just used your credit card and called a taxi. The thought suddenly feels ridiculous - you hadn’t actually used any of Steve’s money yet. You knew he said you should, but it felt strange to just frivolously spend someone else’s money like that. So instead, you leaned your head against the bus window, and willed it to move faster.

When you finally arrived home, you were only in the door for a few seconds before Robin was running up to you, eyes wide with glee.

“There you are! Look at this shit - did you know this was coming?”

“Did I - what?” you asked, confused and still a bit out of breath from how briskly you trekked two blocks and up the stairs.

“Okay, clearly you didn’t - c’mere, some lady came and dropped this off earlier today -”

You followed her as she spoke, stopping in your tracks at your bedroom door.

“What the -”

Hanging in your doorway was a thick garment bag on a gold hanger, the door propped open with a dark, leather-bound trunk.

Before you could ask anything else, you were unzipping the bag with shaky hands, gasping as you saw the contents - inside were four dresses, probably nicer than anything you’d worn in your life, all adorned with Valentina’s sigil on the inside.

“Whoa,” Robin said from behind you. “Are those from -”

“Yeah,” you said, cutting her off. “I - I think they’re all custom-made.”

It was then that you noticed a small envelope tucked inside, with a now-familiar wax seal. You practically tore it open, and it read:

I had Valentina send over these first few garments - there’ll be more to come. I think the white one would look great on you for tonight, with the gold shoes. I’ll see you at 7.

S.H.

“Holy shit,” Robin whispered, followed by a low whistle. “He’s really taking this whole thing seriously, isn’t he?”

You nodded, running your thumb over Steve’s handwriting a few times.

“Okay, you’ve got to tell me - is he just like, really bad in bed or something? Like, is that why he’s doing all this -”

“I wouldn’t know,” you admitted. “Not yet, anyway.”

“Wait - you haven’t slept with him yet?”

You shook your head, pinching the fabric of the white dress hanging in front, feeling the soft satin between your fingers.

“No,” you said. “I’m seeing him tonight, though.”

“Holy shit,” Robin said. “How is this your life now?”

You shook your head in disbelief.

“I have no clue.”

*******

Two hours later, after a long, contemplative shower, and fussing maybe a bit too much with your hair and makeup, you found yourself wearing the dress and heels from the trunk, as instructed. Well, it was more of a suggestion than instruction, but who were you to object?

The dress had slipped on with ease, and it was maybe the lightest, softest thing you had ever worn - it fit like a glove, enough that you didn’t think a single other person in the world could put this on if they tried. You understood now why Steve used Valentina - she was damn good at her job.

You stared at yourself in the mirror, not exactly recognizing yourself. It felt like you were going to some costume party, if the costume in question was a dress finer than anything you’d ever worn and shoes that probably cost more than you were willing to find out. The dress was light and flowy, hitting right above your knees. You did a quick 360, and took a deep breath - this was fine. It was great, actually - it was just dinner, that was all. Maybe. Probably.

When you emerged from the bedroom, Robin nearly fell off of the couch, jaw slack.

“Who are you, and what’ve you done with my roommate?”

You rolled your eyes, giving Robin a spin for the full effect. She just laughed, shaking her head incredulously.

“Seriously, though - you look great. Like, sophisticated, but in a hot way, I promise.”

“I don’t know if that’s a thing,” you said.

“‘Course it is, I’m looking at it!”

Before you could say anything else, you heard your buzzer ring - someone was downstairs.

You shared a look with Robin, and she bounced excitedly on the couch, urging you to answer. You went to the intercom, pressing the talk button and leaning in closely, remembering how notoriously bad the sound quality on this thing was.

“Um, hello?”

“Hey - it’s me,” Steve’s voice said, distorted a bit through the crackly speaker. “Are you ready to go?”

Oh, God. He actually came to the door.

“Yep! I’ll be down in a minute!”

“Are you sure? I can come up, if you want -”

“No!” you replied quickly - you glanced back at your tiny, and currently messy, apartment, and imagined he’d die if he ever saw it.

“It’s okay - it’s a third floor walkup… I’ll come down.”

“Yeah, okay,” he conceded.

You shot a glance back at Robin, who was giving you two thumbs-up.

“Wish me luck,” you said, suddenly feeling waves of anxiety rolling through you - this was suddenly so real, what the Hell are you even doing -

“Don’t do that,” Robin said firmly.

“Do what?”

“Freak out.”

“I’m not freaking out -”

“Yeah, you are,” she interjected. “It’s fine - in fact, it’s less pressure than a real date. And I’ve got your location, so if you go missing -”

“Ha, ha,” you replied, voice laced with sarcasm. “Goodnight, Robin.”

Before she could tease you or ask any more questions, you were out the door and heading down the stairs, heart fluttering as you descended each flight, knowing it’d bring you closer to him.

And, when you opened the door, there he was - much more formal than the last time you had seen him, wearing a slim-fitting suit and a friendly smile. When he saw you, he stepped back for a moment, eyes widening.

“I - wow. Look at you.”

You felt your heart flip, your face flushing.

“Well, I have you to thank for that. Or, Valentina, I guess.”

“Oh, yeah,” he agreed. “Mostly Valentina - I don’t really know anything about women’s fashion, so I told her to do what she thought was best for you.”

“And did she?” you asked.

He looked you up and down again, nodding.

“I’ll say - you really do look beautiful, you know,” he said, voice a little softer now.

You felt your face heat even more, and decided not to respond. After a moment, Steve stepped back and waved you ahead, following you down the steps towards the car parked on the curb. He opened the door for you, allowing you to slide in across the backseat before following.

As the car peeled away and onto the road, Steve cleared his throat.

“So - I got you a little something.”

Before you could ask or protest, he was handing you a small white box. You opened it slowly, gasping as you got a look inside - it was a necklace. A gold necklace, with a diamond pendant that glistened more than anything you’d ever seen. The whole thing must’ve been real - you were no expert, but it had to be. It was simple, but so clearly nicer that any of the plated stuff you had sitting on your dresser at home.

You just held the box in your hand, staring at it for a moment as you examined the contents. You slowly traced the chain with your finger, your thoughts only interrupted by Steve.

“If you don’t like it, we can return it, and you can pick out something you like better - I have the receipt, I just didn’t really know what you liked -”

“It’s beautiful,” you whispered. You realized he had taken your silence for rejection, and the idea was enough to make you sick.

“But - I can’t accept this. It must’ve been so expensive -”

“Don’t worry about that,” Steve interrupted. “I wanted to get you something nice, and I thought it’d look nice on you.”

You glanced to the front of the car to gauge how much the driver was paying attention, and leaned in closer to Steve with a whisper.

“You already wired me my rent, tuition, and my allowance - which was a crazy amount, by the way - and, the clothes, all of it… not that I’m not grateful. I am, I just… you’ve already spent so much, you’re going to end up spoiling me -”

“Maybe I want to spoil you,” he murmured.

Whatever you were planning on saying next vanished, the words dying in your throat. So you just went quiet, looking down at the necklace in your lap again.

“Can I?” he asked.

Knowing what he was asking, you nodded, gathering your hair to the side as he extracted the necklace from its box. He unlatched it and pulled it up around the exposed slope of your neck, his fingers brushing your skin as he closed it again. You felt your breath hitched, the feeling of his fingers ever-so-lightly touching you lighting your skin on fire.

“I do have a question,” you asked, fixing your hair as you gazed down as where the pendant rested on your sternum.

“Mm hm?”

“If - if I suddenly changed my mind about this - this whole arrangement… do I need to pay you back?”

He shook his head fervently.

“No - definitely not. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do - if you ever want to stop, let me know, and you can keep whatever I’ve given you. No need to pay me back, I promise. You’re allowed to change your mind, I - I don’t own you.”

“Right,” you said, biting your lip. Then you managed to finally meet his gaze, and he was looking at you so sincerely it made you want to cry. And his face was close - so, so close.

Then, you were leaning across the seat and bringing your hand to cup his jaw, pressing your lips to his. He tensed for a second, then leaned into the kiss. You pulled back after a moment, and he just stared at you, bewildered.

“What was that for?” he asked softly.

“To say thank you,” you replied, hand still brushing his face.

“And,” you added, “I’ve actually changed my mind about one thing.”

His brow furrowed, and you realized that you accidentally sent him into panic mode.

“About what?”

“Let’s skip dinner,” you whispered. “I want to go to your place instead.”

Author's note: thanks everyone for all the enthusiasm for the story so far! Just a warning, there's a lot of smut ahead, so get ready for that! As always, shoutout to Em, who's basically my co-author. Your replies, comments, likes, and reblogs are always appreciated!

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theetherealbloom · 1 year

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UNEVEN ODDS — CH. 2

Chapter Two: Roll Up Your Sleeves

Summary: The Reader is dragged into the Last of Us universe and has no choice but to watch the events unfold or will she be able to change what was already written?

Paring: Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Age-gap Romance, Violence, Angst, Fluff, Guns, PTSD, Depression, Anxiety, Swearing, Reader wants to sacrifice herself, Zombies, eventual SMUT, MY SCIENCE IS WONKY, probable plot holes, rusty writing

Word Count: 4.8k

A/N: Holy shit there are so many of you sjdfhgsk AHHHH thank you so much for all the notes and comments, I appreciate it! Here’s a little bit of info for you to understand a little bit of my thought process. In my outline, the reader is an Enneagram Type 9: The Peacekeeper. (This helps me add a little bit of depth to you so I don’t feel entirely lost when writing) if she seems “passive” or “complacent” it’s cause she wants everything to go smoothly and be without conflict. I’d like to believe there’s a little part of us that prefer to avoid tension, due to the fear of loss and separation from the people or things you love. I’ll go a little bit more in-depth about this in the story as it progresses. Hope you enjoy!

Song: evermore (feat. bon iver) by Taylor Swift

Previous Chapter -> Next Chapter | Series Masterlist

TLOU WORLD – 2023

BOSTON - NOON

You walk along the ruins of a long-abandoned Boston with an overpowering sense of dread. It feels like the build-up of a song in which you know the tune, the lyrics, and the beat. Strings of violins, drums, and bells ring and thump in your mind, unwanted and uncaring of how you feel. This curse of knowledge you never asked for but which you carry follows you as the four of you approach the Bostonian Museum. Creeper vines and Cordyceps grow on the sides of the building, marked by conspicuous veins and all-consuming every red brick of this once-beautiful structure.

The four of you stand outside the entrance of the museum. Cordyceps consume every part of the foundation, Ellie tilts her head to look up at it appalled, “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” You stand next to Joe, using your hand to rub your right eye, and mumble, “Shit.”

“Well, there’s a way across from the top floor,” Tess says while moving to place her hands in the pockets of her pants. Ellie sarcastically replies, “Well, then I guess it’s fine.” Tess reassures her by adding, “We use to take it all the time.”

Ellie answers, “Okay.” Joel leaves your side and approaches a dry vein of the Cordyceps, removing the rifle he stole from the FEDRA guard, he crouches and touches a part of it to check if it was still active. He swings downward, hits the vein with the butt of the gun, and a puff of dust releases from the dead fungi, he stands to walk over to Tess, “It’s bone dry. It could mean they’re all finally dead in there.”

Tess nods, then they both kneel to prepare their flashlights and weapons, just in case. You and Ellie watch them both rummage through their backpacks, “Oh, man,” the kid mutters.

Joel whips out a flashlight and waves it at Ellie, “Marlene pack you one of these or just sandwiches?” She removes her backpack, “Yeah,” and pulls out her flashlight. Joel looks to you, “Catch, hummin’ bird.” That was the only warning he gave you before tossing you the flashlight, “Luckily, I have a spare.”

You’re short of breath as you hear the nickname he gave you. Miraculously, caught it with both hands, and without even thinking you wink, “Thanks, cowboy.” Thankfully, no one says anything about your quip directed at him.

“Okay, so… more ground rules.” Tess announces and turns to Ellie, “We’re gonna go slowly. If we come up against anything you get behind us and you stay there, okay?” The young girl nods and wears her backpack, “Yes.” Tess brings out her handgun and flashlight, positioning her hands in a way that she can use both. Ellie glances at the gun she’s holding, “I have a spare hand.”

Joel is unamused by what she is insinuating, dryly replies, “Congratulations.” He walks forward with determination, he pokes his head through the door to do an initial check before turning around to nod at the three of you to signal it’s clear. Reluctantly, you follow them inside, your mind has kicked into overdrive, trying to figure out a way to get past this with zero casualties. If you sacrifice yourself, would that change the ending? Would it buy Tess a little more time? This might be your grand attempt to do something right and kind without assurance, without the promise of an afterlife.

Flashlights dance and shine around the walls of the abandoned museum, you watch your step and try to calm the beating of your heart as you look at the artifacts left behind. You navigate through the hallways and come across a corpse of an infected deceased. Joel shines his flashlight on the fungi, “Yeah, cooked.” Tess exhales, “Finally, some fucking luck.” Ellie steps a little closer to investigate the remains of what was once human, Joel continues, “I guess we should’ve gone this way in the first place.”

You were so caught up in trying to ground yourself in the reality of all of this, that this is actually happening, that you forgot to at least warn them about the Clickers they were about to face in a couple of moments. Just as Ellie was about to turn a corner, you whisper loudly to her, “Ellie wait!”

Too fucking late. “Oh shit,” Ellie exclaims with wide eyes, and Joel makes a move to inspect what she found. A dead bruised, bloodied, young man slouched against the corner. Ellie’s eyes were full of shock, “What the fuck did that?”

Joel and Tess look at each other knowingly, and you finally decide to speak up, for her and theirs, “Whatever you’re about to say or hope for, don’t bother.” The three of them turn to look at you and you decide to continue in an audible whisper, “I wasn’t sure if I could or should warn you, but we need to stay quiet from now on.” You gather your courage to look directly at Joel with an unwavering stare, “It’s exactly what you suspect it is.”

“Are you saying an infected did that?” Ellie whispers to the three adults, and she resumes, “Because I’ve been attacked by one and it wasn’t like that.” Joel looks at you and he can see the way your face twists, your lips curled downwards, and your eyes show your remorse and guilt, he whispers to everyone, “Okay, from this point forward we are silent. Not quiet. Silent.” Ellie looks at him concerned and confused, “What?” But Joel shakes his head, “No. No questions. Just do it.”

This is it. You think to yourself as you will your feet to move, continuing, you follow Joel and Ellie up the stairs with Tess trailing behind. You remember when you could cover your eyes to the scary moments of the show, you could press pause, or fast forward, not needing to witness and feel the distress and panic.

The quiet creak of each floorboard of the steps as your boots land on the rotting wood, it groans all of your weight and dust falls from the ceiling. You all stop silently, waiting for any indication of an infected discovering that all of you were in the museum. After a moment, Joel looks back at you, a silent way of asking if it’s okay, you throw him a bone and give him a tiny spoiler, then you nod at him. And all four of you continue up the stairs.

As you make the first landing of the steps, you shine your flashlight to meet a horrifying view. Multiple corpses of people who were infected with Cordyceps lay on the wooden floors. It’s unspeakable and all-consuming, the silence overwhelms your system, there is a sudden tightness in your chest, and feel a part of your mask slip, your eyes shift and move to look at the pile of bodies. Organs and parts that were once human, were scooped out and transformed into fungi.

Your mouth opens silently, quivering as you do, and you lightly shake your head. Joel steps over the rotting fungi, just as you were about to grab Ellie and warn her about what she couldn’t see, you were too late. Again. A satisfying crunch could be heard throughout the building and you squeeze your eyes shut in fear for a moment then you reopen them. Joel whips around to look at Ellie with annoyance, the kid gives him an apologetic look.

Thankfully, you managed to make it up the steps with no more issues. Joel slowly opens the door to Independence Hall, and the wood gives a quiet creak. He quickly scans the area before deciding to nod at all of you, telling you it’s clear.

With your foresight and knowledge of events that had already happened in your time, you decide to act accordingly and give a hard shove to both Tess and Ellie inside the Hall and quickly follow after, gravity takes place and parts of the museum collapse, pieces of wood and cement block the doors. You were trapped.

Tess and Ellie push themselves off the ground, but you take a little longer to get up. You scraped your arms and hands, and the pain in your head came back. Joel quickly and quietly helps Ellie up then realizes you haven’t moved yet. He immediately makes his way to you, lightly shaking you to get up, you blink back the blurry black spots that are forming in your eyes and stand up with his help, both of his hands on the underside of your forearms.

You squint and slowly look up at him, and for what felt like a second, you see the worry that lines his face. Concern and need to protect you, even though you’re just a stranger. The moment doesn’t last long, you hear the familiar sound of screeching in the room adjacent to you. Flashlights shine in the direction of the noise and you hold your breath as all of you walk backward, keeping your eyes on the monster that emerges from the shadows. The twitchy movements are followed by the croaky noises of the infected, it tries to navigate, searching for its next prey. And on queue, the other Clicker screeches, indicating that there are two of them. This is no longer a museum, it’s a fucking horror house and all of you are in for the worst experience of your life.

You are now surrounded by predators, and prey, playing a twisted game of hide and seek. You press your back against the glass of the cabinet, Tess to your right, Ellie to your left, and Joel being the farthest left. He gestures to his eyes and ears, quietly mouthing, “They can’t see, but they can hear.”

The creature groans and croaks, clicking sounds from its throat. It’s right behind the glass, your eyes drift to the monster and see its jerky movements. You bring your eyes to look at Joel, he lifts his pointer finger to his lips, indicating to be incredibly still and silent. Fear is the darkness and the unknown, a hard-to-shake feeling, it overstays its welcome and leaves you panting.

Tess watches the monster make its way around the corner, limping and shaky. Ellie closes her eyes to try and control her breathing, and you get yourself ready for the fight you never wished for. ‘Why is it always so fucking dark?’ You wonder inside your head, The Clicker comes into view, and you hear an audible gasp come from Ellie. Shit.

The creature turns in your direction at full tilt, mouth wide open with its yellowing teeth, and gives the loudest high-pitch screech. Joel sprays bullets into the Clickers’ chest, but it fights back, he looks in your direction and yells out, “Run!”

The second clicker begins to sprint toward you and Tess shoots at it but the bullet misses. Tess grabs Ellie by the arm and drags her away, while you run with them. The four of you get separated, Tess trips and so do you and Ellie, she yells out to tell her, “Run… Run!”

Ellie crawls her under a table and finds her way out, while the Clicker runs after Tess. You are now at a crossroads, Joel is running at the other end of the exhibit while Tess heads in the opposite direction. You swiftly make a split-second decision and duck, right behind Ellie under the table, however, you do not crawl away, instead, you wait for the Clicker to run by you and quietly get up to follow after Tess. This is your chance to make things right, to ensure she doesn’t get bitten. Will this cost you your life?

You grab an ax hanging from the wall and run to the other side of the room, you hold it with both hands and feel the sweat coating your skin. You turn a corner and see Tess pinned up against the wall, the creature feasting on her neck, your heart drops to the bottom of your stomach, and you let out a scream, “No!”

The creature quickly turns and shrieks at you, angry for interrupting its meal, now it begins sprinting towards you, and the adrenaline pumps into your bloodstream and system. The anger starts to flare in your chest, the silence grows louder along with the ringing in your ears. You stand unwavering and with the courage that has been asleep for so long, it awakens at the right time.

Aiming directly at its head, you throw the axe with everything you have. It lands on a portion of its mushroom-infected face. Yet, it only slows the creature down a second, screaming and swinging its long mutated arms, and tries to locate you, but, it hears the commotion in the other room, loud pops of a revolver can be heard and you assume it’s Joel killing the other Clicker.

The abomination of what once was human turns and screeches at Joel and Ellie, it scampers towards them and you feel the pulse in your veins like a fighter, you fight the fear and let the rush take over, you sharply glance at the handgun Tess had dropped during the chaos and without hesitation, you pick it up and pray it still has some bullets in the chamber.

This was a skill you wished you never had to use. All those days in the range were just a precaution, the world is not kind to women, and you learned to protect yourself just in case. It meant only using a gun when you or the people you loved were in danger.

Using one hand, you swiftly remove the safety with your thumb, aim, and shoot at the head of the Clicker. With three loud pops and then a fourth one for good measure, the monster falls to its knees and on the ground.

Dead.

Blood oozes from the infected’s head, and you stand there watching the crimson splatter grow larger. Tess appears from the archway and takes in the vision before her. You turn to aim the gun at her, your fight instincts kick in, still high from the adrenaline, and you stand there breathing heavily.

Joel yells out your name. You blink once, then twice. A beat passes, and you don’t register Joel approaching you in a calm slow manner, his arm stretched out with his palm facing you, treating you as if you were a frightened animal, now he places his hand on top of yours, a touch so gentle you barely register it. Carefully and steadily he takes away the gun in your hand and turns the safety on before handing it to Tess, which she slowly takes, while you let it happen.

Your vision is blurry and tries to swallow away your guilt. You were too late. You couldn’t save her. Joel says your name again, he’s in front of you now, his frame covering and protecting Tess, but he has replaced the gun you once held, with his hand. Ellie watches the events unfold from the side, not wanting to create any more noise or movement. He squeezes your hand and whispers, “It’s okay… It’s okay.”

It’s not, but his voice brings you back anyway. You look to Tess, your eyes full of sorrow, and your voice quivers as you speak, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” Tess nods knowingly, she swallows her pride and sadness to say, “It’s okay. You tried… um, thank you.”

Her words completely snap out of your trance, and you see the world a little clearer now. You nod back at her, then bring your eyes to Joel, who is still holding your hand. His eyes dance around, observing and taking note of every detail of your face. You’re the first to break the staring contest, realizing that Tess doesn’t have a lot of time. You step back away from him, dropping his hand, “We should get going.”

Joel turns to Tess, “You all right?” She nods, “Twisted ankle, but yeah.” She limps over to Ellie, “You all right?”

“Well, I didn’t shit my pants, so…” Ellie says and pulls up the sleeve of her jacket to reveal a bite from the infected. “You fucking kidding me?” she exclaims and turns to look at Joel, “I mean if it was going to happen to one of us.”

Tess stays silent at that, glancing at you to keep your mouth shut. You give a discreet nod in response, Tess calls out to Joel, “Hey. Let’s get the fuck out of here.”

Joel pushes the window up and opens, stepping out onto the roof, Ellie follows and you do too, leaving Tess for last, who plops down to rest her ankle, “Fuck.”Joel kneels and opens his pack to give Ellie a bandage, “Put this around your arm.” She takes it and says, “Thanks.” You watch as Ellie makes her way to a wooden plank, makeshift bridge, “Over there?” Joel glances over while continuing to fuss over Tess, “Yeah, I know it looks scary.”

“That was scary. This is wood.” Ellie states and proceeds to walk across the wood plank to get to the other building’s roof. Joel watches in disbelief and hollers, “Just wait there. Give us a minute.” He turns to look at you, “Can you go make sure she’s…” You only nod, knowing that Joel and Tess need to talk, you look at the wood plank they call a bridge and mumble to yourself, “If the way I die is falling from a high place, so be it.”

You walk across with no problem and catch up to Ellie, “Hey,” you say as you stand by her and take in the view. “What happened to you back there?” Ellie asks, the wind blowing strands of hair away from her face. You huff, “I don’t know. The adrenaline took over, I guess.”

You both stand in silence now, then you can hear the heavy footsteps of Joel walking up to the right of Ellie, she merely glances at him and then turns back to see the State House in the distance, glittering under the sunlight. “Is it everything you hoped for?” Joel asks her, Ellie blinks but answers him, “Jury’s still out. But, man you can’t deny that view.”

You hear Tess approaching from behind, eager to keep moving, “Come on, let’s get there before it’s dark.” She turns and then climbs a ladder down, letting out a groan of pain no one question or brings up. Joel nods at Ellie to follow Tess which he does, you look at Joel as Ellie climbs down. And you held his gaze for a moment, then look to his broken watch, before climbing down after the young kid.

Leaves crunch with every step you take, Tess lightly limping ahead, she turns to look at you, and you could only stare back. Tess looks straight ahead once more, and you can’t help but wonder about the violence of the dog days and what could get you through this. You see the State House from a distance, a hauntingly beautiful sight, creeper vines growing on the pillars and sides of the edifice.

The group decides to hide behind an abandoned car near the state house, and immediately could tell that something was very wrong, “Where the fuck are they?” Tess harshly states, Joel, shakes his head and decides to go check the truck parked outside by the steps of the ruined State House.

Joel walks over cautiously to the door of the truck, he swings it open to aim his rifle at it, only for the seats to be empty. Joel sees the blood splattered on the sides of the door, and turns to mouth at you all, “Stay back.” He rounds the side of the truck and notices a recently deceased, he continues to the back of the truck, swinging the giant blue metal doors, to confront no one.

You follow Ellie and Tess as she demands, “Joel, what the fuck is going on?” Joel shakes his head, “I don’t know.”

No longer wanting to play along, you look down to see a trail of blood up the steps and into the State House, you hear someone call your name, but say nothing as you walk up to the doors of the building. You push your way through, briskly walking to the center of the structure, and you take a good look at the multiple dead people scattered on the ground. You shake your head and close your eyes, “Fuck.”

You hear the three come in after you and they notice immediately what happened, Tess goes into a panic, “Okay. I mean there’s gotta be a fucking radio or something, right?” She proceeds to open the kit boxes that contain nothing but supplies, searching for anything that could help them win.

“Who killed them? FEDRA?” Ellie asks, and you reply, “No,” you nod to the man on the ground, Joel rolls him over with his boot and you continue, “One of them got bit. The healthy ones fought the sick ones. Everyone lost.”

Joel’s nostrils flared as he stared at you, “You knew? You knew and didn’t even bother to warn us that this was all for nothin’?” You raised your chin, “They were already dead hours before we got here.” His jaw clenched while you stood, fists clenched by your sides, and rolled your shoulders back, glaring at Joel.

Joel calls out to Tess, “Tess, what are you doing?” She ignores him and approaches Ellie, “Where did Marlene say that she was taking you?” Ellie responds unsure, “Uh, I don’t know. Just west.”

“Just west. Fuck. okay. Well, I mean, one of them’s gotta have a map on them, right?” Tess then goes to search one of the deceased Firefly’s pockets, “Joel, can you help me?”

“No.” He fumed, “Tess, it’s over. We are going home.”

“That’s not my fucking home!”

You let the exchange happen, while you move to one of the kits to retrieve a handgun, some ammo, and a small first-aid kit, and steal a backpack sitting on top of the chairs to shove all your supplies inside. Then, you hear Tess say the words you knew would happen, “I’m staying. I mean, our luck had to run out sooner or later.”

“Fuck.” Ellie whispers, “She’s infected.”

Tess sighs, and Joel’s eyes hardened and narrowed into slits, “Show me.” She takes a step forward and whispers his name, only for him to take a step back. Tess then steps back, anguish splashes across her face, then pulls the collar of her shirt and jacket, to reveal the growing infection on her neck, “Oops, right? And don’t bother taking it against her,” Tess gestures to you, “She did everything she could to save me, but I guess fate had already cut my string.”

Joel takes in a breath of disbelief while Tess looks to Ellie, “Take your bandage off.” Which she does to reveal no evidence of infection, just a new scar on her forearm to add to her collection. Tess makes her way to Ellie and holds her arm, “Look. Joel? This is real.” She drags Ellie closer to him, “Joel, she’s fucking real.” Her grip suddenly becomes twitchy and she wills her hand to stop shaking and hides it behind her back, she stares directly into the eyes of whom she once loved, “I need you to get her to Bill and Frank’s.”

Joel is shaking his head as he replies, “No.” But Tess continues to speak, “They’ll take her off your hands. They’ll handle it from here.”

“No… I can’t. They won’t take her. They’re not gonna take her.” He says and you watch each part you knew to unfold, Tess whispers to him, “They will because you’ll convince them. Yes, you will. I never ask you for anything. Not to feel the way I felt…”

“No.” He stubbornly states, but Tess lets the tears stream down her face and exclaims, “Now, you shut the fuck up because I don’t have time.”

He grants her request and listens, “This is your chance. You get her there. You keep her alive and you set everything right. All the shit we did.” Joel shakes his head as Tess begs, “Please say yes, Joel. Please.”

Despite the somber mood, a screech from one of the corpses has come to life and taken its revenge on the living, Ellie screams out, “Oh, fuck!” But your reaction time is faster this time, and you no longer hesitate as you walk towards the parasite, remove the safety of the gun and shoot it point blank in the head. Joel comes up behind you, and takes notice of what you’re staring at, the Cordyceps patch has awakened the rest of the infected and you hear the croaks and shrieks from outside of the State House.

Joel runs up to one of the doors to check how many are on the way, he shuts the door and locks it after making out the horde approaching. “How many?” Tess asks, Joel walks past her, “All of ‘em. Maybe a minute.”

Tess takes one of the rifles off of the floor and uses the butt of the gun to remove the lid on the fuel barrels. She pushes it to the floor, and the clear yellow liquid pours out of it and coats the floor. You help and do the same to the other barrel, knowing how this will end for Tess. “What are you doing?” Ellie asks, watching you and Tess scatter grenades on the ground, “Making sure they don’t follow you.”

Tess then approaches Joel, breathless and shaking, “Joel. Save who you can save.”

He clenches his jaw and his nostrils flared, angry, confused, upset, everyone he ever loved leaves or dies. He stares at her, soaking in her image as much as he can, and then he makes his decision. He quickly grabs Ellie by the arm and drags her away, her protests can be heard as it fades away around the corner, she punches his arm to try and break loose but he’s much stronger, “No! We’re not leaving her! Get off me, you fucker!”

Tess says your name and you turn to face her, “You weren’t lying? About the whole different universe thing?” You can only shake your head in response, hoping she can see your heart breaking into pieces.

Tess hums and gives you a small smile, “Take care of them for me, please? Especially Joel. Stubborn as a mule but you’ll learn to love him, just like I did.” You decide to grant the woman her dying wish, you nod and whisper, “Goodbye, Tess.”

You turn to run and didn’t look back, pushing out of the wooden doors, while tears stream down your face slightly obscuring your vision. But you manage to catch up with Joel and Ellie, as you did, the blast from the State House is sudden and loud. The smell of burning kerosine fills the air and you turn to look back at the raging fire, Joel turns and points his rifle at the area, ready to shoot just in case, only to hear screeching and the infected burning on the steps of the building.

You stare and one-half of your senses silently wish Tess would walk out, but you can no longer rewind, she’s gone. Ellie pants, trying to catch her breath, tears rimming her eyes and Joel lowers his rifle to turn away from the roaring flames. You and Ellie turn to watch his lone silhouette walk away from you both.

A/N: WELL that’s the end of Episode 2! Lowkey was fighting invisible demons to get this chapter edited and out bcs I wanted to improve on describing movement, anger, sorrow, etc. IT WAS EXTREMELY DIFFICULT T^T but I hope I didn’t disappoint ya’ll <3 ALSO YEP MHM TAGLIST! Send me an ask so I can add ya! It’ll stay open for a tiny period of time so send away :D

I’m proud of you for doing the right thing by trying to save Tess! Even though we all know you secretly admire Joel and would have chased after him to ensure his safety with Ellie. hehehehehe

Yes, the reader only knows everything up to Episode 3, meaning she has no clue about the rest of the show! She knows (most) parts of the video game but alas we know Television series like to change things so she’s lowkey fucked lol

I LIVE FOR YOUR COMMENTS ya’ll crack me up and have the best reactions. Thank you for your support and love. I’ll try and get the next chapter out soon!

-Grace

Previous Chapter -> Next Chapter

Taglist:

@memento-mora @elijahssuit @tartiflvtte @lillylilly2 @kyuupidwrites @amethystwonders11 @syd-vixious @themysticturtles @kidkrow666 @soulofapatrick @ponyboys-sunsets @superflymaterial @chaotic-imposter @vainbimbo @eva-stark @loki-an-idiot @littleshadow17 @undermoonlightwalk @afternoon-evening @notmysunnydale @mac5323 @slurmp69

#joel miller x y/n #joel miller x reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x poc!reader #joel miller x reader series #joel miller x modern reader #unevenodds #joel miller masterlist #joel miller series #joel miller x reader au #tlou rewrite #tlou series #tlou hbo

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mlmshipbracket · 4 months

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Fourth MLM Ship Bracket Propaganda Submissions

Below you will find all of the submitted and approved ships for the Fourth MLM Ship Bracket Tournament along with the form to submit further propaganda at the bottom

This is another opportunity to submit propaganda for your favorite ships. Wether you were unable to submit propaganda for them in the initial form or you spot your favorite ship who has no propaganda submitted. Ships with a strikethrough have propaganda submitted, I will continue to update this post as propaganda is submitted. I will accept further propaganda for ships with already submitted propaganda but please prioritize those with out.

The goal is to have propaganda for all ships but I understand that may not be possible. Therefore I will be leaving the form open for a few weeks to see if we receive propaganda for at least half the ships.

Note: Please reach out to me if you spot any mistakes in character or fandom names, even if it is only formatting or spelling issues.

Monkey D. Luffy/Roronoa Zoro (One Piece)

Kyojuro Rengoku/Akaza (Demon Slayer)

Mikhail”Misha” [Heavy]/Dr. Ludwig [Medic] (Team Fortress 2)

Dave Strider/Karkat Vantas (Homestuck)

Chu Shuzhi/Guo Changcheng (Guardian, 2018)

Oliver Marks/James Farrow (If We Were Villains)

David Starsky/Kenneth "Hutch" Hutchinson (Starsky & Hutch)

Tinn/Gun (My School President)

Loki Odinson/Mobius M. Mobius (Loki)

Jaime Reyes/Bart Allen (DC Comics)

Levi Schmitt/Nico Kim (Grey's Anatomy)

Ren Amamiya or Akira Kurusu/Goro Akechi (Persona 5)

Wallace Price/ Hugo Freeman (Under the Whispering Door)

Daffy Duck/Bugs Bunny (Looney Toons)

Shen Wei/Zhao Yunlan (Guardian, 2018)

Isak Valtersen/Even Bech Næsheim (SKAM)

Henry "Monty" Montague/Percy Newton (Montague Siblings)

Nico di Angelo/Will Solace (Camp Half-Blood Chronicles)

Argos/Mr. Plant (The World of Mr. Plant)

Richard St Vier/Alec Campion (Swordspoint Universe)

Klaus Hargreeves/Dave Katz (The Umbrella Academy)

Woody/Buzz Lightyear (Toy Story)

Victor Lawson/Hap (In the Lives of Puppets

Charlie/Babe (Pit Babe The Series)

Fred/Shaggy (Scooby-Doo)

Simon Snow/Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Grimm-Pitch (Carry On)

Gaius Octavius/Jedediah Smith (Night at the Museum)

Sound/Win (My School President)

Pat/Pran (Bad Buddy)

Mike Wazowski/James "Sulley" P. Sullivan (Monsters, Inc.)

Nicholas “Nick” Bell/ Seth Gray (The Extraordinaries)

Evan 'Buck' Buckley/Edmundo 'Eddie' Diaz (9-1-1)

Sean/White (Not Me: The Series)

Vegas Theerapanyakun/Pete Saengtham (Kinnporsche: The Series)

Runaan/Ethari (The Dragon Prince)

Larry Daley/Ahkmenrah (Night at the Museum)

Tintin/Captain Archibald Haddock (Tintin comics)

Bai Lang/Jin Xun An (My Tooth Your Love)

Napoleon Solo/Illya Kuryakin (The Man from U.N.C.L.E)

Wario/Waluigi (Mario franchise)

Peter Parker/Miguel O'Hará (Spider-Man: Across the Spider-Verse)

Steve Rogers/Anthony "Tony" Stark (Marvel Comics)

Dave Miller/Jack "Old sport" Kennedy (Dayshift at Freddy's)

Boston/Nick (Only Friends)

Kinn Theerapanyakun/Porsche Kittisawasd (Kinnporsche: The Series)

Satoru Gojo/Suguru Geto (Jujutsu Kaisen)

Craig Cuttlefish/Octavio Takowasa (Splatoon)

Tulio/Miguel (The Road to El Dorado)

Sun Wukong/Neptune Vasilias (RWBY)

Zachary Ezra Rawlins/Dorian (The Starless Sea)

Fox Mulder/Alex Krycek (The X-Files)

Thomas/Newt (The Maze Runner)

Fulgrim/Ferrus Manus (Warhammer 40k)

Kim Theerapanyakun/Porchay Kittisawasd (Kinnporsche: The Series)

Alec Lightwood/Magnus Bane (The Mortal Instruments)

Tan/Bun (Manner of Death)

Qrow Branwen/Clover Ebi (RWBY)

Rhy Maresh/Alucard Emery (Shades of Magic)

Yashiro Isana/Kuroh Yatogami (K Project)

Jaskier/Geralt of Rivia (The Witcher)

Dustfinger/Mortimer "Mo" Folchart (Inkworld series)

Brandon/Sky (Winx Club)

Phineas Taylor “P. T.” Barnum/Phillip Carlyle (The Greatest Showman)

Alfred Hillinghead/Henry Ashe (Bodies TV Show)

Baal/Inanna (The Wicked + the Divine)

Timothy "Tim" Drake/Bernard Dowd (DC Comics)

Vash the Stampede/Nicholas D. Wolfwood (Trigun Stampede)

Anthony Lockwood/Quill Kipps (Lockwood and Co)

Henry Winter/Francis Abernathy (The Secret History)

Crowley/Aziraphale (Good Omens)

Dainix/Falst (Aurora Comic)

Prince Rupert/Prince Amir (The Two Princes)

Finn/Poe Dameron (Star Wars)

Jean Luc Picard/Q (Star Trek: The Next Generation)

Will Stronghold/Warren Peace (Sky High)

Heart/Li Ming (Moonlight Chicken)

Wallace Wells/Todd Ingram (Scott Pilgrim Takes Off)

Sunai/Veyadi Lut (The Archive Undying)

Linus Baker/Arthur Parnassus (The House in the Cerulean Sea)

Aaron Slaughter/Jace Boucher (House of Slaughter)

Hercule Poirot/Captain Arthur Hastings (Hercule Poirot)

Phaya/Tharn (The Sign)

Hercules/Iolaus (Hercules: The Legendary Journeys)

Todd/Black (Not Me: The Series)

Julio "Rictor" Esteban Richter/Shatterstar (Marvel Comics)

Wen Kexing/Zhou Zishu (Word of Honor)

Siffrin/Isabeau (In Stars and time)

Kendall Knight/Logan Mitchell (Big Time Rush TV Show)

Yuichiro Hiyakuya/Mikaela Hyakuya (Owari no Seraph/Seraph of the End)

Palm/Nuengdiao (Never Let Me Go)

Khatha/Dome (Midnight Museum)

Asterix/Obelix (Asterix Comics)

Bowser/Luigi (Mario Franchise)

Lucien "Luc" O'Donnell/Oliver Blackwood (London Calling)

Kazuki Kurusu/Rei Suwa (Buddy Daddies)

Benjamin “Ben” Tennyson/Kevin Ethan Levin (Ben 10: Alien Force)

Lumière/Cogsworth (Beauty and the Beast)

Damian Wayne/Jon Kent (DC Comics)

Spy/Dell Conagher [Engineer] (Team Fortress 2)

Shanks/Buggy (One Piece)

Jesper Fahey/Wylan Van Ecks (Six of Crows)

Harold Finch/John Reese (Person of Interest)

Ulrich Stern/Odd Della Robbia (Code Lyoko)

Vincent Freeman/Jerome Morrow (Gattaca)

Eustass Kid/Killer (One Piece)

Christopher Hitchcock/Jalil Sherman (Everworld)

Frodo Baggins/Samwise Gamgee (Lord of the Rings)

Edgin Darvis/Xenk Yendar (Dungeons & Dragons: Honor Among Thieves)

#tumblr poll #tumblr bracket #mlm ship #mlm ship poll #mlm ship bracket #mlm ship bracket tournament #mlm ship bracket 2024 #mlm ship bracket tournament 2024 #fourth mlm ship tournament #propaganda #ship propaganda

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vintageslideshow · 5 months

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1972: Here's what was in my family's familyroom.

Bookshelf with two rows of great authors of history, and two rows of the World Book Encyclopedia (the encyclopedias are facing you, and the row behind the candle on the side shelf are the How & Why Library and the yearly addendums).

Several vases and candy dishes.

A horse drawing a sleigh.

Boston pencil sharpener with a suction cup base.

A pretty neat red candle (on the shelf) that looks great when lit.

Shell No-Pest Strip (banned nowadays).

Painting by my father of Zulu dancers.

Packard-Bell hi-fi.

Of all of these things from 50 years ago, only the painting remains in their possession. A few years ago they got rid of the great authors series (Half Price Books has it for an obscene sum) and I have my own copy of the World Book Encyclopedias. When I visit my folks this weekend I'll see if they still have the candle and the pencil sharpener.

#126 negative #photograph #1972

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andydrysdalerogers · 2 months

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The Type You Save ~ S E V E N T E E N

James "Bucky" Barnes and OFC Alexandra "Alex" Richards

Detective James Barnes hasn't seen the love of his life in three years. Since the night she was almost caught stealing a painting. He knows it was her and she disappeared leaving him confused and heart broken.

Alexandra Richards never expected to be pulled back into her old life two years after she left it. She had found love and a home and was happy. Until a note blackmailed her to take one last job. Three years later she walked into the last person she expected to see in San Francisco. Because he lived in New York right?

They always put family before everything. And he would do anything to get his family back. Because she's the type you save.

TW: mob, death, smut, rape intentions, angst, guns, family abandonment, dub-con, manipulation

A/N: because of the Valentine one shot I'm posting tomorrow, I'm posting the final chapter of The Type You Save today. It has been fun writing a different hero this time.

I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site, even if you give me credit. DO NOT REPOST MY FICS. Reblogs, comments, likes, and feedback ALWAYS appreciated

Divider by @firefly-graphics

Previous: S I X T E E N

Series Masterlist ~ Main Masterlist

Alex stood on the grass in San Francisco, her black dress swaying in the cold wind, a storm coming in. She sighed as she watched the casket being lowered into the ground. She tightens her grip on James’s hand as he held Drew on his other side.

“I’m glad I was able to do this for him.”

“Me too doll. You ok?”

“Its just hard. I thought…”

“I know Allie. But its closure.”

She could barely listen to the prayer, her mind whirling from everything that had happened. After everything had settle, Zemo sang like a bird. He explained how he got involved with Grey, the threat Grey had on his family. Grey made it seem like all he wanted was to take Alex, not explaining that he was going to kidnap Drew a week or so after his plan to break her.

The police found Grey’s will and a letter for Alex. Alex took a moment a couple of days after her rescue to read it.

Alexandra, If you are reading this, it means that I have die, probably at your hand. That’s hard to write, considering the amount of love I have for you. If you haven’t discovered yet, let me explain some truths. When I first saw you, you were the most beautiful creature I had ever seen. I wanted you from that moment on. But your brother refused. I tried to persuade Simon, reason with him. Unfortunately, that didn’t work out. We buried him close to the house in Boston. I hope that brings you a little peace. As for your parents, they threaten to harm you as they blamed you for your brother’s disappearance. I had them change their will to leave me as their benefactor before they were killed. I wanted to keep your inheritance safe. I left everything to you, my pet, my queen. My hope is that this letter is unnecessary, but I wanted to be sure you were taken care of, should anything happen. I love you so much Alexandra. Yours, Christian.

Alex sobbed at the letter with James holding her as she wept. Her entire adult life before James was built on a web of lies. When she got confirmation of his location, she had her brother reburied. The toll of the bell snapped Alex back to the present.

The father completed his blessing over the casket. “We celebrate your life Simon Richards, a lost soul that has been found and now taken to the Lord. Amen.”

They all murmured a reply and then came to give Alex their condolences. After everyone left, Alex turned to James. “I want to see him, Jamie.”

James sighed, “Allie, I…”

“I need to see him. He did this for me. It’s the least I can do.”

James adjusted a sleeping Drew on his arm. “Ok, ok. Let me make a few calls.”

A couple of hours later, Allie sat beside a hospital bed. Its occupant was asleep. She took his hand and his eyes fluttered open.

“Hey Allie Cat.”

Nate’s face was still pale and his movements slow but there he was three weeks after being shot.

She reached over to press a kiss to his forehead. “Hey Nate. How are you feeling?”

“Tired.”

“Getting shot will do that.” She gave him a soft smile. “What have the doctors said?”

“Recovery is going well. Docs say I just have to be patient to get stronger.”

“That’s good.” She rubbed her thumb over his knuckles. “We had the funeral today.”

Nate could see the pain in her eyes. “I’m sorry I couldn’t be there. I’m just glad I was able to give you that. I’m sorry I hadn’t told you sooner.”

“Its ok. I probably wouldn’t have believed you then.” She looked away to blink her tears away. “How is your case looking?”

He chuckled. “Since I help saved two cops and a witness, its looking like I’ll be able to plea to a lesser charge. Maybe a year.”

“That’s good. Steve, James and I are ready to testify for you.”

“Thanks Alex. I should rest. I have physical therapy in a couple of hours.”

“Ok. I’ll be back again now that I can get to see you.” She hugged him gently and went to the door. “Open on bay 7.” There was a buzz and a click before the door slid open. She glanced back at Nate with a smile and went through the door.

James was sitting in the visitor’s lounge, checking his email when Alex walked in. “Hey Allie. How is he?”

“He’s good. Still kinda pale and slow but he says he feels stronger.” She popped a shoulder. “Ready?” She held out her hand.

He took and tugged her to him, her back to his front, hugging her, breathing her in. Something he doesn’t take for granted anymore. “Ready, doll. Steve called and said Drew asked if they could go to the park. I said ok. Wanted some time with my doll.” He placed a kiss on her neck.

“Jamie, we are in the hospital,” she moaned quietly as he continued with his gentle assault.

“I’ve missed you, Allie. My perfect little doll.”

She melted right there. “Ok, ok, get me outta here Detective.”

“Its Sargent and you know it.”

“You’ll always be my Detective.” She spun in his arms and looked into his stormy blues. “Take me to bed Jamie.”

“Oh Allie,” James moaned. He kissed her hard before releasing her, taking her hand and guiding her out of the hospital. The drive was laced with anticipation, the air heavy with lust from the couple. They hadn’t been intimate, since before, with Alex dealing with the emotions of her past coming to light and Drew being attached to his parents in fear of never seeing them again. James held onto Alex’s hand, his thumb moving over her knuckles, the sensation like bolts of lightening to her core.

“Lightening touches,” she whispered.

“What was that?”

“Lightening touches,” she said a little louder. “Before all of this, your touch always gave me the feeling like lightening through my skin.”

James smiled. “I remember. I believe it was the same night we conceived Drew.” His smile grew wider. “That was a great night.”

“It was.” Alex brought his knuckled to kiss. “I’m sorry I’ve been distant.”

“Don’t be doll. I understand. We’ve all been through a lot.” They made it back to their apartment. It was eerily still. Alex looked around as James pulled her to their bedroom. “Tell me what you need baby.” He sat on the edge of the bed as Alex settle between his legs.

“I need you,” she whispered.

“You have me, doll.” James began to kiss around the hem of her blouse. He motioned for it to be taken off and Alex swiftly pulled it off. “So beautiful. My Allie,” he whispered in between kisses.

She ran her hand through his hair. “My Jamie. I love you.”

“I love you too, doll.” He stood up and lifted her into his arms. She wrapped her legs around him as he flipped them around and he laid her on the bed. “Let’s make a baby.”

“Now?”

“Now. No more threats, no more secrets. Its just us now doll. James and Alexandra. Bucky and Alex, Jamie and Allie.”

“Never called you Bucky. But Bucky and Alex works. Just like mommy and daddy.” She ran her fingertips over his chin. “I love you.”

“Oh doll. I love you.” Soon all their clothes were gone and James was hovering over his wife. He stared deep into her eyes as he rubbed his tip through her folds. “So wet doll. Almost as if you were excited to make me a daddy again.”

“Jamie, don’t tease,” Alex whined. “I need you.”

He grinned as he sank into her, stretching her slow. He watched as her head tilted back and her eyes rolled back. “Feel good?”

“So good baby but you have to move,” she moaned. James started on a steady pace, not really using force, just letting her feel good. “Oh god, Jamie,” she cried.

“Yeah Allie.” James flipped them so she was on top. She swiveled her hips and he groaned. “Just like that doll.” She bounced on him, feeling all of him. He could feel her starting to tighten. “You close baby?”

“So close. You feel so good inside me.” He grasped her hips tighter, pulling her down harder onto him. “Gonna cum.”

“Do it, love. All over me Allie.” James grunted at the force, wanting to be closer to her. He flipped them again and moved his hips hard. She gave a silent scream as she tightened around him. “Ah fuck!” He let go as well, moving slower, working them through.

They laid there a moment, the cloud of bliss still over them. The memories of lost love, love found, and love made flooded them. James held his girl, thankful that she wasn’t lost. She was saved.

F I V E Y E A R S L A T E R

“Andrew! Delilah! Its dinner time!” Alex called out to her children. She felt something around her ankles and looked down to see their white kitten, Alpine, twisting herself around her. “Yes, Al, dinner for you too.” Her children raced in, their German shepherd, Brooklyn, racing after them. “Wash your hands!” She turned back out the door. “Bucky! Steve! Dinner!”

James and Steve trudged in, still arguing on the best way to fix the bike. “I’m telling you it’s the exhaust,” Steve argued.

“Whatever punk, the pop noises are from the clutch, guaranteed.” James wiped his hands off and went to Alex. “Hey momma, how are you?”

“Tired but good.” His hand rested on the small bump on her belly, and she placed her hand over his. “Still too early to feel them, love.”

“Can’t wait to meet them love. Its everything we ever dreamed of.”

“It’s more Jamie. It’s so much more.”

James and Alexandra. Bucky and Alex. Jamie and Allie.

Family over everything.

*~* The End *~*

@patzammit

@texmexdarling

@slutforchrisjamalevans

@firephotogrl74

@tinkerbelle67

@before-we-get-started

@bunnyforhim

@alexakeyloveloki

@sunnyhummingbee

@peaceinourtime82

@lokislady82

@saucy-sassy-sparkly

@kmc1989

@kandis-mom

#andy's shenanigans #andy's hea #bucky barnes #bucky barnes au #the type you save #sebastian stan #sebastian stan fandom #sebastian stan fanfiction #bucky x ofc #Steve rogers #detective AU #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes smut

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feelingcomplet · 2 years

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Quem são vocês para me dizer onde meu relacionamento - ou a falta dele - está indo? Vocês sabem melhor do que ninguém que começos irregulares não garantem uma jornada terrível. Na verdade, os caminhos com os melhores cenários são aqueles em que você tem que passar pela lama.

( The Monster )

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blneobin · 4 months

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10 BL boys I want carnally <3

Much much love to @ayansbff for tagging me!! I hope you know what you’re in for cause tagging me in a post to simp?? ok! I have a reason to SCREAM about these men who made me question my asexuality.

Mantrisanu - Jeng (Step by Step)

nobody but my acemate (@mooniyuta) knows just how obsessed I was with Mantrisanu during the Step by Step era. When I tell ya I forgot I was ace as soon as I saw his giant 1.90m ass on screen.. I forgot I was even a person. I am a squirrel needing to climb a tree. WOW! just WOW!! Step by Step? No! Step On Me.

Jam Rachata - Tinn/Jiu (Laws Of Attaction/To Sir With Love)

just Jam Rachata in general. He’s just a few years older than me but I will call him Daddy. When I saw him in Laws of Attraction I was intrigued then I stayed for the plot then I got hooked with their chemistry. Lucky for me I’ve never watched To Sir With Love before, so I did… and I can hear the wedding bells ringing as soon as I saw how his hunky meaty goodness handle that rusted half scissors turned murder weapon.

First Kanaphan - Alan/Sand (Moonlight Chicken/Only Friends)

I’ve been salivating for this man since Not Me. I suffered through The Shipper for this man. It’s not just his beautiful handsome gorgeous self that does it for me, its also his charm. Like he’s so charming and has this aura about him that’s just warm and homey. His smile is like the most beautiful smile I’ve ever seen. His eyes are just so sparkly and beautiful, if I ever meet him irl I’d probably trip over myself getting lost in them. I understand Khaotung not wanting to share him with anyone because I would do the same.

Bright - Yai (I Feel You Linger In The Air)

He’s so handsome I can cry. This man is like Jam x2. Like he has such a perfect face for male lead in romance genre. Where has he been all my life?? Maybe its Yai the character that feeds my deluluism, but when General Yai popped up in ifylita with a freakin porn stache and I wasn’t immidiately appalled, I knew I was a goner.

Neo - Boston (Only Friends)

Neo has always been cute to me. Catches my eye in every series he’s in but then Only Friends happened AND I WAS FLOORED!!! It was like ya know when you enter your teen years and that cute person you’ve grown up with had a growth spurt and you’re like daaaang when did you get hot 👀 Yeah that’s me with Neo.

Ohm Pawat - Pat (Bad Buddy)

specifically Ohm as Pat cause he was chunky and meaty and oof his arms were distracting as fuck. Anytime he showed up with that damn tank top I was like pls may I bite. He’s just so *feral animalistic growling* I personally love a man whos chunky meaty mucles and looks like they can lift me. AND HIS SMILE??? HIS TWINKLING EYED SMILE?!?!?!?! I’m gone. what a baaaabe!!!

Try imagining? alrighty if you say so 😚

Keita Machida - Kurosawa (Cherry Magic)

I remember watching cherry magic for the first time in 2020 and I was in awe. He is so dreamy and handsome. I hate to say it again guys but.. his smile!! Like I’m obsessed with him!! Both me and bestie screamed when we saw him in Alice In Borderland (overgrown blondie with roots showing and he is messy and he smokes and I was barely breathing) and then scream cried when his head EXPLODED!?!?!?!) Anyway, I’d marry this guy. like legit.

Earth Pirapat - Jim (Moonlight Chicken)

I am not done with the young dilfs. I have no other words other than !! HIM !! like I would need to make a seperate Earth appreciation post to start talking about him. This post is getting too long anyway so I’m gonna not say much here but.. just know I would drop everything for him.

Papang - Gumpa (Not Me)

my need for Papang to suffocate me in his tiddies arms is like my human need to eat to keep myself sustained. He just looks like the best recharging station. That doesn’t make sense but it makes sense.

Even going through the gif list to choose a Papang gif gave my tummy flips

Bosston Suphadach - Pruk (Between Us)

THERE’S A NEWBIE ON MY LIST WOO!!! I feel like because he hasnt been here long and has only played sub-minor parts, people forgot about him .. BUT I. DID. NOT. <3 Did you see him in between us alongside Sammy?? Yes. I too would be purposefully tripping in front of him so that he can hold me in his big strong arms. Also him and the doctor in Be My Favourite?? SIIIIICKKK!!!! Let’s just say I’m excited to watch their spinoff next year ✨

I’ve got a few more but these men are mainly the ones that I need to have. In conclusion, Big Guy, Big Arms, Big Smiles. Love them, Love Him.

thank you lovely gif makers @zhivchik @mushiemadarame @rayandgay @wanderlust-in-my-soul @kiyosuku @warmday @sunsetandthemoon @bunnakit @daikunart and lovely moots @dramalets @drama-nonsense @mooniyuta @mooninagust @these-emo-thoughts @sparklyeyedhimbo @khaotungsfirst @blue-grama @absolutebl @troubled-mind who enable this obsession.

#blneobin #tagged #BL nation

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lovingsylvia · 10 months

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!NEW RELEASE!

Title: Sylvia Plath Day by Day, Volume 1: 1932-1955

Author: Carl Rollyson

Publication date: 15 August 2023

Pages: 400

Publisher: University Press of Mississippi (UPM)

Image source (cover & description): https://www.upress.state.ms.us

About the book:

“A fascinating investigation into the life and art of one of America’s greatest poets

Since Sylvia Plath’s death in 1963, she has become the subject of a constant stream of books, biographies, and articles. She has been hailed as a groundbreaking poet for her starkly beautiful poems in Ariel and as a brilliant forerunner of the feminist coming-of-age novel in her semiautobiographical The Bell Jar. Each new biography has offered insight and sources with which to measure Plath’s life and influence. Sylvia Plath Day by Day, a two-volume series, offers a distillation of this data without the inherent bias of a narrative.

Volume 1 commences with Plath’s birth in Boston in 1932, records her response to her elementary and high school years, her entry into Smith College, and her breakdown and suicide attempt, and ends on February 14, 1955, the day she wrote to Ruth Cohen, principal of Newnham College, Cambridge, to accept admission as an “affiliated student at Newnham College to read for the English Tripos.”

Sylvia Plath Day by Day is for readers of all kinds with a wide variety of interests in the woman and her work. The entries are suitable for dipping into and can be read in a minute or an hour. Ranging over several sources, including Plath’s diaries, journals, letters, stories, and other prose and poetry—including new material and archived material rarely seen by readers—a fresh kaleidoscopic view of the writer emerges.

Reviews

"The details in Rollyson’s Sylvia Plath Day by Day, Volume 1: 1932–1955 are a dream come true for the reader, fan, and scholar of Sylvia Plath. The seeds of so much of her creative writing are present, but Rollyson deftly does not foreshadow how events impact Plath’s life and when she transforms experiences from life to art. He lets each moment stand on its own importance."

"Sylvia Plath Day by Day, Volume 1: 1932–1955 is a must-have book for any reader interested in Plath. Detailed yet highly readable, it paints a portrait of a young woman who would become, as will be chronicled in volume 2, one of the seminal authors in the twentieth century."

"Sylvia Plath Day by Day, Volume 1: 1932–1955 fills the lacunae of existing biographies and uncovers new insights into its subject, as when Plath writes about her experiences at Smith, hearing ‘nasty little tag ends of conversation directed at you and around you, meant for you, to strangle you on the invisible noose of insinuation.’ Or her months in New York at Mademoiselle, which grow less mysterious here. Again, Carl Rollyson has provided us with an indispensable book on Sylvia Plath." “

You can order the book through their website or from other online shops.

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55sturn · 2 months

Text

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ SNAP OUT OF IT: CHAPTER 0.02

↳ series masterlist! ↳ main masterlist!

↳ summary: in which a small argument snowballs into something much larger. tensions grow high only a few hours after re-meeting and some repressed memories are revealed much earlier than anticipated.

↳ pairings: college!matt sturniolo x fem!reader

↳ warnings: swearing, smoking [weed + cigarettes], cocky!matt, matt not realizing who the reader is, flashbacks.

↳ important things to note: starts out with reader’s pov, then will switch to matt’s pov, followed by switching to third person pov, and then back to reader’s pov.

READER’S POV

“what’s wrong sweetheart?” he hums, a smug grin on his face as i feel his eyes trail up and down my body as his tongue clicks. i scoff, pushing the door open, and making a beeline for the door with a sticky note of my name on it.

“wait how the fuck do you know my name?” i hear him call out from his room which was across the short hallway from mine, causing a sharp pang rush through my chest.

he really doesn’t remember me?

how the fuck can he forget the girl he said was his favourite in middle school? i know i look different from how i did at the end of high school but i didn’t think i looked that different.

i dismiss the thoughts and questions with a scoff, walking back to my doorway as i stare at him, watching as he shifts uncomfortably under my gaze.

“maybe my name will ring a bell.” i spit, ripping the sticky note off my door, shoving it against his chest before leaving the dorm, not bothering to watch his reaction.

as i swiftly begin my way back to jocelyn, i felt my entire body begin to shake with anger. no matter where i was in life, no matter what i was doing, matt found a way to taint those moments and memories, i had thought moving to cambridge would be a break from his ghost constantly haunting every corner of my mind. i thought that once i got out of boston, he would be nothing but a distant and blurry figure in the back of my mind.

but i guess fate had another plan.

jocelyn sits on the hood of her car, talking with someone, more than likely flirting her way into making him do all our heavy lifting, making me snort as i unlocked my car.

“couldn’t last twenty minutes without seeking your next victim?” i tease, watching as she throws her head back laughing, a quick shrug following as she hops off her hood.

“please i will not be hooking up with chris, i was just shocked to see him here.” she hums, causing me to freeze for a moment before turning to face him.

“chris.” i nod, quickly busting myself with a couple bags and a box, trying to steady my hands.

“long time no see y/n, nick and i miss you, ya know.” chris quips, making my shoulders fall as i sigh.

“well if you plan on visiting your brother, you’ll see me a lot more.” i mumble, watching back toward the doors as chris and jocelyn trail behind me, each of them carrying a box of mine.

“what’s that supposed to mean?”

“it means that the universe hates me and gave me the worst fucking dorm mate in existence!” i chuckle, however i found very little humour in the situation at hand.

“no fucking way.” jocelyn cackles, knowing exactly what i meant as we made our way down the hallways, stopping in front of my dorm.

“welcome to hell! please enjoy the visit!” i huff, my voice laced with dry sarcasm as we enter the dorm, matt leaning against the counter, a half finished cigarette in his hand as jocelyn fails to hide her snort.

“i thought you were joking but you’re actually living with him?”

“unfortunately.” i scoff, walking off to my room, placing bags and box on the bed, before returning to the kitchen.

“jocelyn.” matt nods, a grim look as his face as she stares him down, her arms crossed as her eyes dart around his face.

“matt. you still look like shit.” she quips back, her expression matching his.

“and i heard you’re still a slut, guess some things don’t change.” he laughs, causing her to bite back a laugh.

that was one thing about jocelyn, she would dish it out and take it just as well, she was one to let any and everything roll off her back because she didn’t care what people thought of her. it was the one thing i envied about her, but being so close with her has definitely helped me learn to take things with a grain of salt.

“hey y/n, about earlier, i’m sorry. you just look a lot different from the last time i saw you, it took me a second to recognize you.” matt murmurs, his eyes holding an indescribable expression, i tilt my head and watch him with a blank expression before speaking,

“you act like i give a flying fuck, matt. now make yourself useful and butt that out, we don’t need to get in shit the first night.”

after a while, jocelyn, chris, and i had finally moved everything from our vehicles to the dorm, and jocelyn made herself at home on the couch while i began unpacking.

“hey joce, classes don’t start for a couple more days, do you mind staying and coming shopping for dishes and other important shit tomorrow?” i hum, placing my skincare and makeup bags in the bathroom.

“you know i’m down.”

“try not to catch an infection the first night you’re here.” matt speaks from the kitchen, causing her to roll her eyes.

“hate to break it to you matt but the only infection i’d catch is from you and there’s no fucking way i’m touching you with a ten foot pole.”

“hey man, i’m clean.”

“not what i heard from the chicks you’ve fucked back home.”

“you know, you and chris would be perfect for each other.” matt snorts, rolling a joint on the counter as jocelyn chokes on the water she was drinking.

“why do you say that?”

“you’re both whores who love to sleep around and are scared of mature relationships.”

“like you know anything about maturity, mister “you’re my favourite girl and always will be.” only to go back on your word the day freshman year ended just because some bitch broke your heart.” jocelyn snaps, causing me to drop the the bottle of perfume i held, the sound of it clattering against the ceramic sink snapping jocelyn’s attention back to me.

“jocelyn what the fuck?” i exclaim, watching as her brows creased, an look of remorse covering her features.

MATT’S POV

as soon as the phrase “you’re my favourite girl and always will be.” left jocelyn’s mouth, i felt my ears turn hot and my mouth run dry as clattering echoes from the bathroom.

“jocelyn what the fuck?” y/n exclaims, her voice cracking with hurt as the memory of my eighth grade promise comes rushing back to the both of us.

“you know jocelyn, i’ve never seriously held the fact that you sleep with anyone who looks your way against you, but that comment? that was fucking low, even for you.” i bite, grabbing my keys and wallet from the table, quickly leaving the dorm, making quick strides toward my car.

i couldn’t be around either them as i kept picturing the day i promised y/n she would always be my favourite girl and the day i told her i could never date a fucking loser like her. the images of her eyes full of love followed by images of her eyes welling with tears filled my mind, i needed to get away from those memories, so i grabbed the joint i stuck behind my ear during the fight i had with jocelyn and lit it as i drove around the city.

THIRD PERSON POV [SUMMER BEFORE EIGHTH GRADE]

it was the summer before eighth grade, y/n, jocelyn, and the triplets were all gathered around the triplets’ cape house yard. everyone’s parents had agreed to one big final sleepover before school started in three days. they had all decided they wanted to camp-out in the cape house backyard all in their own shared tents.

matt and chris were sharing, nick and nate were sharing, and y/n and jocelyn were sharing, and that was decided by the parents.

as everyone sat around the fire matt looked at y/n, he smiled, excited to start his last year of middle school with her. they had known of each other since kindergarten but they didn’t became friends until that summer when nick and jocelyn started hanging out more.

“hey y/n/n?”

“yeah matt?”

“you’re my favourite girl and always will be. i don’t really like a lot nick’s friends that girls but you’re really cool.”

“thank you matt, promise i’ll always be your favourite?”

“pinky promise.” he smiled, sticking out his pinky, watching as the girl hooked hers around it, shaking their hands back and forth slightly.

THIRD PERSON POV [FIRST DAY OF FRESHMAN YEAR; AFTER SCHOOL]

y/n bounced on the balls of her feet as she waited outside the triplets door, wanting to hang out with matt and hear about his day, and hopefully confess her crush on him. she hadn’t really heard much from him that much this summer and she missed her friend.

“oh y/n, what are you doing here?”

“just wanted to see if you wanted to hang out.”

“uh sure, come in i guess.” matt sighs, opening the door, letting y/n step through.

a couple hours pass and matt seemed to be in a better mood than he was when she first got there.

“hey matt can i tell you something?” y/n whispers, fidgeting with the bracelet she wore as matt sat up, his back against his headboard as he nods, gesturing for her to continue.

“i like you, like a crush, and people have told me that you might like me too.”

“who said that?”

“jocelyn and nick.”

“well they’re wrong. i could never like a dorky fucking loser like you.” matt spits, rolling his eyes as her jaw drops. she felt tears start to well along her waterline as she stands up, quickly exiting the room, letting matt’s door slam softly, both literally, and metaphorically on their friendship.

READER’S POV [CURRENTLY]

i watch matt leave in a hurry, his brows furrowing in anger as jocelyn stands in the living room in shock, not realizing how far she overstepped.

“i’m sorry y/n, he just infuriates me, especially with the way he acts as if he never knew you at all and that he never did anything wrong, and on top of that, he acts like pretentious jackass that’s better than everyone.” jocelyn pleads, her frustration over everything that’s happened with matt pouring into every word.

“it’s alright, joce.” i sigh, already dreading the moment he comes back. if there was one thing that was i count on when it came to matt, it was the fact that he would hold a grudge, he would hold onto fights with an iron fist grip. if he was mad at you, he would make sure you knew for days on end until he was over it.

and i knew that the moment he came back, he’d direct his anger at me.

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fleckcmscott · 1 year

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Room Service

Summary: A radio program spurs Arthur's bolder side. What he comes up with is just what Y/N needs.

Words: 4,389

Warnings: Swearing, Smut

A/N: This story has been percolating in my brain, since my husband and I rewatched Vertigo a few weeks back. 🌃 Hope you all enjoy this fun little excursion! A special thank you to @iartsometimes for beta-ing! 😃

If you have any thoughts or questions, please comment, feel free to message me, or send me an ask. Requests for Arthur and WWH are open!

It was a sunny day in Gotham City, and Arthur's heart beat with a warmth to match. Three sugar cubes sweetened a mug of staff room coffee, a stale but free offer. He tapped cigarette ash into the metal sink, counted down the seconds. Pressed painted lips into a line, crimson curved by unfurling pride.

When - when exactly - had he become the kind of man who'd book a hotel for a rendezvous?

Sure, Y/N and he had overnighted before. Hotels and motels and one inn with strands of hair stuck to the soap. And they'd made love at most of them. But getting it on (as one of her favorite songs called it) hadn't been the purpose of their stays. One weekend, he'd tagged along to Philadelphia during the East Coast Paralegal conference, where he'd shrugged at the Liberty Bell and taken in a comedy show. Despite her comment that Boston felt like a sibling trying to keep up with Gotham, the city had had its charms.

Maybe he should thank Dr. Sally. They'd finally caught her show together, sans tight fit in the tub. "It's Perfectly Normal" had been the episode's title, exemplifying the good doctor's usual encouragements. In what she'd described as an effort to put listeners at ease and start a dialogue between the sexes, she'd discussed men and women's most common sexual fantasies. He'd licked his thumb and turned to a fresh page in his notebook.

Men dreamed of touching their lovers' intimately (been there), going down on them (done that),and receiving in turn (check, check, check). Beyond faceless fantasy women, sleeping with a stranger held no interest for him. He'd be liable to crack up and droop in five seconds flat.

Domination was what women desired, a type of power play. The notion had made him shift in his seat. Those dynamics hadn't ever existed between he and Y/N, not that he was aware. They went with what felt natural, what felt good, what felt right. Why complicate it when life was already complicated enough? At Dr. Sally's mention of threesomes, Y/N had taken on the look of a woman who'd eaten bad fish. But the phrase New Location had ironed out the wrinkles on her nose.

From where she'd knelt to dust the TV stand, she'd shot him a look brimming with suggestion. "Write that one down."

He had. Over and over in the margins. That was a language his romantic inclinations understood, a vocabulary that matched.

On his way home from an appointment, he'd walked seven extra blocks, muttering and smoking and wondering where they should go. Dinner at Bamonte's was guaranteed to start with gnocchi and end inside her. A romp in her office was out of the question. The mere thought of it made his frame stiff as a ramrod. If they screwed up and her boss somehow caught wind of it...

Then the answer stopped Arthur in his tracks.

A four-story sign dominated the early twentieth century building, read "Hotel Empire" in vertical neon letters. The place was six stories short with a stucco façade. It was narrow, four rooms across, squished between the apartment building to its right and the club to its left as an afterthought.

With the practiced swagger of the hoping to impress, Arthur crossed the lobby's faded marble floor. He lay an arm on the mahogany front desk and addressed the lone receptionist. "Hi. I'd like to book a room for next week."

The middle-aged man in a bellman cap gnawed a soggy toothpick. He had the craggy face of a fellow working stiff. "The whole week?"

"No. Just Thursday. Thursday night."

Toothpick flipped through a reservation book, tapped a series of blank lines. "We've got a couple on the third floor. Non-smoking. Two doubles or twins?"

"One king?"

A hotel reservation sheet slid across the desk. "Fill this out. I'll need an ID."

Once Arthur had stuffed his Gotham City ID back in his wallet, he jotted his name, address, and initialed the nonrefundable deposit agreement. But the form demanded a phone number.

"You can't call about it," he said. Realizing how this could be misconstrued, he fumbled with the pen. "It's a surprise. For my wife."

Toothpick's pause said he'd heard this story often enough to disbelieve it. "Uh huh. Well, show up or not. It's no skin off my nose." He stuck the papers in a leatherette folder, where gold letters spelling Hotel Empire had flaked off. "Check-in starts at three, you've gotta check out by eleven. We have in-room dining, but if you ask me, $6.95 for a BLT ain't worth it." He bent and spit his toothpick in the trash as if hawking tobacco in a spittoon. Arthur managed to blink instead of recoil. Toothpick continued and straightened his cap. "Dunbar's is two blocks down, that's a better bet if you ask me. If you've got any questions, just call. See you next week."

Arthur had exited with his pulse racing like a snare drum - and it hadn't slowed since.

"Hey, my man."

Ryan's energetic greeting tugged Arthur back to the present. Ryan was a teacher in what was called the resource room, which meant he taught children with learning challenges. Children like Arthur. Ryan's wife Sheila had hired Arthur for a birthday party last summer, and they'd found Carnival so charming, he'd been recommended for Gotham Elementary's winter fundraiser. A return to his old stomping ground.

"Lunch period's almost over." Ryan offered a divided lunch tray with five chicken nuggets, reconstituted mashed potatoes, canned peas, a cinnamon roll, and a small carton of milk. "The kids are already lining up for more of your puffy stickers, and it's my turn in the sponge toss."

Stubbing out his cigarette, Arthur took the tray. His grip on it tightened. "Do you think I could get out of here at three? I know we'd said four, but I have a date. I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner. I'll give you back the six dollars for the hour. You- You can put it in the donation bo-"

"It's all right. These kids'll be ready for a nap at two. Hell, I'll want one." Ryan sat on the metal table parallel to the sink. "What's your girl do, anyway?"

"She's a paralegal. She has a three-day trial this week, and I wanted to, you know. Make it easier."

Ryan snagged a nugget from the tray. "You don't have to explain. Sheila's been nagging me to go see that new movie, the one where the chick dies just when the guy tells her he loves her? What a waste." A long resigned, sigh. "I should probably take her this weekend. It'll make my life easier."

Arthur grinned. Maybe he and Ryan were on the bumpy track to becoming friends. And a good friend would offer advice. "Y/N and I go to Capitol Cinemas. They have couple seats, and the popcorn has three types of toppings."

~~~~~

Y/N strode along the Ditmas Ave subway platform, excusing herself, weaving her way in and out of the throng. She ascended concrete stairs, sucked in a long breath. Crisp air filled her lungs, eased the tension from her tendons. Welcome invigoration after hours of being trapped inside Gotham Central Court House, a grand old Romanesque building in dire need of an updated ventilation system. Its chlorine corridors stank of a YMCA pool.

When she slid through her apartment's door, her canvas court bag dropped to the floor. She toed off her commuter boots, peeled away her suede gloves. "I'm home!" she called.

Only to be answered by silence.

She stepped forward into the living room. A rerun should've played on TV, or the radio set to Arthur's beloved golden oldies while he puttered about. She checked her watched. Hm.

He'd said he'd be back by five; it was nearing quarter to now. The doors to the bathroom and bedroom stood open, tiles and blankets bathed in inky blackness. Itching to glimpse the burning end of a cigarette, she went to the glass door to the fire escape. It was nicotine free.

The O line could've gotten stuck on the tracks, or Arthur's gig might've gone so well that he was in the middle of handing out business cards. She hoped it was the latter. Unbuttoning her wool coat, she turned towards the kitchen, ready to throw together a dinner with whatever was in their cupboards. A spaghetti and garlic tomato sauce kind of night.

A low light in the corner of her eye, slivers of soft yellow behind the room divider in the rear corner. Ah ha. That was it. He was lost in thought and notebook in equal measure. She padded to the writing nook, ready to cup his shoulders, peck the crown of his head, drown in the potent musk of his hair.

The empty chair arched her brow. But there was a crème brûlée envelope on his desk, her name in uneven cursive. Smack in the middle, sure to grab her attention. A magnet that drew all the iron in her blood.

Eager fingers tore the flap. Aftershave wafted to her nose, smoked sandalwood and man. A black business card peeked out, framed by gold Gatsby corners, an ad for a hotel in Hinkley she'd never heard of. The accompanying note was folded in half. "Meet me here. Room 307." She pressed the lined paper to her sternum, iron rushing to spots below her waistline.

Whether it was thoughtful gestures or his simple presence, Arthur had a knack for brightening the most stressful day. Just a couple weeks ago, he'd called her office to say he'd picked up her favorite bottle of wine. It was as though finding someone wasn't the only thing he considered an accomplishment (a point of view that too often led to low efforts), but also the choice to maintain, to nurture the ideas that defined their couplehood. A beautiful perspective that made him so easy to love.

It made Y/N sheepish, how initiating those gestures didn't come as naturally to her, nor as often. No, she never missed special occasions and holidays. And she was good at the tough stuff, a stabilizing wall, stalwart and true. Still. She wanted to get better at the return.

Another whiff of cologne hit her nostrils, spurred her to hurry to the bedroom. She flicked on the light, rifled through the top right drawer of the vanity, where she found a bottle of perfume. Puckering her lips, she swept plum pink along the bottom, applied a dot of pigment to the corners. One hand unbuttoned the first two buttons of her scarlet blouse. The other touched up her eyeliner and shoved the stick in her skirt pocket.

She'd make what he'd planned for tonight a chance to start evening the score.

~~~~~

Not too shabby, not too fancy. A good room and Arthur had done well to book it.

Two bay windows overlooked the street, cracked pavement mottled by slush. Drawn velvet drapes allowed neon light to coat the space in a rich verdant. Pointed blocks intersected egg-and-dart molding at each corner, stark white on satin walls. The dials on the television threwback to the age when he'd have to get off his ass to change the channel. A compact writing desk buttressed the far wall, Mr. Coffee machine and paper filters ready for use. Perfectly plumped pillows had a thank you card along with two after dinner mints, like out of a movie. He ate them both.

He sat on the edge of the bed and bounced twice. The right amount of give, the springs' squeaks quiet enough to be a pleasant soundtrack instead of a disturbance that'd prompt a call from Toothpick. Arthur peeled back the polyester blanket and comforter, ran a palm over the sheets. Freshly laundered, smooth and luxurious. Six hundred count that'd feel like silk on his skin. He set the woodgrain clock radio to GCR, just in time for Down Memory Lane, which featured songs from the 1920s to 50s, guaranteed to make every listener swing.

Strolling to the bathroom, he muffled a laugh. This entire adventure felt illicit, as though Y/N was his dirty little secret, a secret he knew inside and out. A sort of reversal of when she'd propositioned him, invited him over with candidly explicit intentions. A race of sensation goosepimpled his flesh, a tickle that shivered his bones. A kind of nervous anticipation akin to what he'd felt backstage during his debut at Pogo's - the difference being that success was guaranteed tonight.

Arthur breathed into his palm to test his breath. A streak of blue paint lingered under his left eye. He wet the corner of a white washcloth and scrubbed it away.

Just then there was a knock at the door.

Light on his heels, he straightened the collar of his V-Neck sweater. Tucked brown waves behind his ear and turned the knob.

There Y/N stood. Lovely, ravishing. Her feathery tresses smelled of fresh cut flowers and orange blossoms, a flustered pink flushed her cheeks. Her glass heart pendant shone. She puffed at a rapid one-two count. She braced herself on the doorframe, right hand on her hip. Her overnight bag dangled from the other. "Good evening, Mr. Fleck."

"Hi," he said, mirroring her stance. "Did your breath run away from you? If we hurry, we can catch it."

She stuck out her lower lip and blew a stray lock from her forehead. "The elevator had a line - tour bus - so I took the stairs." Her step over the threshold forced a foot's retreat. After he took her coat, her arms wound about his ribs. "How was your gig?"

"Good." The small talk felt perfunctory, a box to check on the way to what he wanted. He resolved to go with it, anyway. Truly set the scene. "I made coffee."

A soft sound, a peck right above his collar, and she was off, sashaying to the desk. She poured them both a cup, perched on the corner, crossed her legs. The position lengthened her calves. It was then he noticed she'd traded her winter boots for navy pumps. Given the slipperiness of the sidewalk, it was a miracle she'd arrived in one piece. (That would have been a night to remember: a rendezvous in the ER with a cracked fibula and vending machine M&Ms.) She offered a paper cup, the kind with playing cards printed on them.

He sat in the faux leather executive chair before her. Stirred sugar into coffee, examined the poker hand he'd been dealt. A royal flush. He leaned back, the chair tilting a relaxing thirty degrees. "How'd the trial go?"

"It's over, finally. Defense counsel spent their closing argument trying to impugn our client: a man who lost a leg. But being a recovering alcoholic has nothing to do with improper forklift maintenance. He wasn't drinking on the job. Juries hate cheap tricks, especially when they're full of working people. I'd be surprised if we didn't have a verdict tomorrow."

Arthur smiled along with her. They'd had plenty of ask and answer sessions, and he'd watched enough episodes of Gotham Law and Night Court to have a general understanding of her profession. "So you think the good guys will win?"

"Yes, and it's about time, too. But enough of that now." She angled her legs nearer, shoe dangling above his lap. Gaze flitting about the room, she took a sip. "When did you decide to do this?"

"When we listened to Dr. Sally awhile ago. Do you remember? I wanted to do something special but wasn't sure what."

"I can't believe that. You're wonderful at it."

He gulped his drink, took her foot in his grasp. He slipped off her high heel, rubbed his thumb into her arch in firm, vertical lines. A groan left her throat, her toes spreading wide. "Well," he said. "She helped me figure it out."

"Don't give her too much credit. It was somewhere in that head of yours." Gently, she pressed her foot to his chest, where his pulse thundered under her sole. Her voice dropped to a purr. "Or your romantic heart. I'd say you were inspired. You certainly inspired me."

Fingertips traced to the hem of her stockings. She'd changed into the pair with lace tops. His abdomen tightened. "Yeah?"

The shoe dropped from her other foot. "Yeah."

Suspense burgeoned between them, thickened into a heady haze. Her pupils locked on his, dilated by the low light and a hefty helping of desire. Her toes drew a line down his chest. He watched the descent, every follicle suddenly aware of that sketch.

"Mm." She sighed when she reached the growing bulge in his pants. "You're hard already."

Laughter caught in his nose. "I've been waiting for this all week."

Arthur stood to seize her waist, lift her from the desk. A surprised cry, a shriek of delight. Hot coffee splashed his sweater - the perfect excuse to get it off posthaste. He deposited her on the foot of the bed.

Y/N stretched as she sat. The motion lifted her breasts against her blouse, nipples sticking out like exclamation points, the size of blueberries. That meant her bra was in her bag, that she was naked beneath that thin satin. He yanked his sweater over his head, tossed it to the floor. She unbuttoned his pants, parted the zipper in one smooth motion. The shadow of movement brushed his length, gaped his lips. She tugged his briefs an inch below lean hips and took him out.

His cock rested flat on her palm. She curled her fingers around it. Rather than pumping, she swiped her thumb across the engorged tip, a delicate paintbrush on the canvas of his flesh. The tenderness of the caress seemed at odds with the carnality of the act. He liked it. He grew stiffer, until he was sure all blood had rushed to his lower head.

Smiling, she smooched his V-line, his patch of springy hair. His stomach stuttered at the exquisite fever of her mouth. "This isn't what I expected tonight," she said, and crawled up the mattress on her elbows.

"Well, what did you expect?"

"Oh, I don't know." Her legs splayed, woven polyester bunching at her waist. "A nice, respectable evening at home with you, It Could Be Yours, the paper. Maybe a joke or two."

"Are you disappointed?"

She gave his torso a raking stare. "Never."

He pushed her flat on the bed. Kissed her knuckles, the inside of her wrist, the crook of her elbow. He bent and sucked a nipple through her shirt. Wet the fabric with his tongue and sucked the moisture back out. Insistent tugs at his curls until he sucked again. The plain of her pubic bone tilted upwards and towards him. He slid a palm up her skirt. Unfastening, opening, throwing the cloth in a haphazard arc.

His erection brushed her stocking. His gaze traversed her curves, the faint stretchmarks on her thighs. She'd donned the panties she'd gotten as a bachelorette gift, the ones that tied at the hip. A triangle of black cloth that exposed more than it shielded. He pulled at one of the ribbons, eased the nylon aside. Caressed her open till she was liquid in his hands. Pointer and middle fingers formed a V around her clitoral hood, fluttered in a come hither motion.

A gasp, irregular breaths that were a hallmark of her pleasure. His mouth did not soften as he kissed her. She tore the buttons of her blouse, pressed her tongue to his, nipped at his lip. When the satin pooled at her elbows, her breasts spilled out in a tantalizing jostle. The right was slightly larger, the areola on the left a centimeter lower. Both beautiful and alluring and ready to fill his palms.

One hand dragged from his neck, followed the length of his spine, pushed his pants to his knees to squeeze his rear. Chuckling, he reached to yank them the rest of the way down, but they caught on his ankles. One kick, then one more. Y/N's foot hooked in the waistband and shoved them off.

Once she was nude, once only her panties remained, she loosened the other ribbon. Raising his lips from hers, he met her eyes.

"I want you to fuck me," she whispered.

A sharp exhale. "You want me to fuck you?" A repetition that meant renewal. To ensure, to savor, to carve into his soul.

Her reply was to grasp his shaft, press the length of it to her vulva. She rutted upward and against it, did so again. Wet and slick and all he ever wanted. He groaned at that damp heat, a compass that always led home.

He sat on his haunches. Ran a palm over her flank. Took hold of her leg and brought it higher, so that the swell of her calf touched his bicep. Poised to enter her, he bent forward.

She pushed at him. "Ow, stop."

"What?"

She lowered her calf, wrapped it around him instead. "Your legs are younger than mine."

"But I wanna be between them forever." He eased just inside her entrance.

"Deeper." A greedy fist at his shoulder. "Go deeper."

So he did. Inch by aching inch. Grunting, he grabbed her breast, squeezed what was likely a bit too hard. No complaint came. Rather, her pelvis rose up into his. Walls gripped him tight, tighter. Hot and sleek. Warmth so feminine, so bracing, the essence of this act.

Propped on his forearms, he studied her. Her head twisted into the pillow, arms sprawled at her sides, fingertips digging into the sheets. A writhe that was nearly a dance. The neon light cascading through the windows spilled over her, cast his shadow onto her form. Sweat stuck her heart pendant to her chest.

At his next thrust, she moaned. A laugh rippled through the air. "Mr Fleck..." A rare second use of that nickname within one hour, a sure sign she was high on him. He wasn't too far behind. Another twist of her hips, as if trying to wring him out. "If you're not careful, I'll want a surprise every week."

His ruts slowed, stopped. He wiped hair from her cheeks, thumbs stroked her temples. "Where next?"

"The shower, your desk. There's always our bed." She turned to kiss his wrist, traced its tendon with the tip of her tongue. "I'm not picky. As long as you're inside me."

A golden wave of affection passed between them (and not a little ardor), a happy hum against her lips. She reached to toy with her clit, her knuckles pressed into his abdomen. She whimpered, tensed, hips rising in a frantic pattern that didn't quite match his. All at once her arms flung about him, clutching, clinging. But she hadn't finished. She'd caressed herself to the peak of the precipice but not over. She wanted them to get her off together.

Arthur drove into her again, pace quickening to an allegro. Nails biting his thigh, she seized around him. Pulsing, pulsing, pulsing. He watched her drift away, expression scrunching and smoothing into bliss. Harsh pants hit his chin, her sharp cries a song in his ear.

He nuzzled her cheek, kissed the curve of her jaw. "I love watching you come." It made him feel powerful, a king who could conquer anything.

Giggles and fluttering lashes, her hands cupping his ass. A flash of light and love in her eyes. She moistened her lips, lifted her mouth and hips to claim him.

Stomach to stomach, chest to chest, heart to racing heart. Thoughts fragmented, his body continuing its hungry hunt for relief. That hunt ended on a clipped moan, a prism of sensation. White-hot pleasure that doubled as surrender, surrender that felt like victory.

He rolled off her, onto his back. Armed sweat from his forehead and worked on slowing his breath. Feet turned out as relaxation oozed through his veins, slackened his limbs.

A kick to his calf, the flick of the bedside lamp, a flood of unwelcome light. He squinted in her direction. She was doubled-over the side of the bed. A smear of his release glistened on her thigh. Her shoulder blades moved as if two conversing waves, rising and falling with each bit of gossip.

"What're you looking for?" he asked.

"You'll see."

Using the nightstand as leverage, she pushed herself to the shore. The covers rustled as she lay on her stomach, mewling and stretching. She took his left hand. A point dragged across his palm, dry but smooth. His fingers twitched under her breath. It reminded him of when he'd tried to cheat his way through remedial English during freshman year, to be foiled by smudged ink.

When she released him, he studied what she'd done. It was an odd squiggle. A loop like a balloon, its string connected to what may have been a Y. He followed its oversized tail to the end, where an upside-down hook resided. He'd seen similarly strange markings at her office, when he'd dropped off lunch or picked up her set of keys.

"What is it?" he said.

"'I love you' in shorthand." She used her eyeliner pencil to explain how three symbols representing vowel sounds and common words connected into one. An analogy for how they'd connected and made one life.

Averting his eyes, he pressed the mark to his chest. "Will you write one in my journal?"

"Of course I will. You pick the page." She patted his belly, lay her cheek on his abdomen. "Does this place have room service? I'm starving. And I've never had room service. Think it'll come on silver platters?"

Arthur recalled Toothpick at the front desk's warning. Paying too much for the basics should've made him cringe, would've any other night. But she deserved a rare splurge. They both did. Even if it cost every cent he'd earned today. And he wanted to keep her undressed, wrapped only in a comforter, for as long as possible.

He tucked her in, then grabbed the phone on the nightstand. "I hear they have BLTs."

~~~~~

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