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#pull letter magazine
helena-christensen · 5 months
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MILLY ALCOCK | Pull Letter Magazine (December, 2023)
📸 Adrian Samson
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scintillulae · 13 days
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celebratingwomen · 5 months
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Milly Alcock for Pull Letter Magazine, December 2023
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cryingonthefreeway · 10 months
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dyingenigma · 1 year
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foxfoodblog · 11 months
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By Maxime Ballesteros for Pull Letter Magazine April 2023 (via @distantvoices)
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nenan · 5 months
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AW23 ISSUE by Jaime-Maree Shipton for Pull Letter Magazine UK
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fiercynn · 7 months
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poetry outlets that support a free palestine
after finding out that the poetry foundation/POETRY magazine pulled a piece that discussed anti-zionism because they "don't want to pick a side" during the current genocide, i decided to put together a list of online outlets who are explicitly in solidarity with palestine where you can read (english-language) poetry, including, except where otherwise stated, by palestinian poets!
my criteria for this is not simply that they have published palestinian poets or pro-palestine statements in the past; i only chose outlets that, since october 7, 2023, have done one of the following:
published a solidarity statement against israeli occupation & genocide
signed onto the open letter for writers against the war on gaza and/or the open letter boycotting the poetry foundation
published content that is explicitly pro-palestine or anti-zionist, including poetry that explicitly deals with israeli occupation & genocide
shared posts that are pro-palestine on their social media accounts
fyi this is undoubtedly a very small sample. also some of these sites primarily feature nonfiction or short stories, but they do all publish poetry.
outlets that focus entirely on palestinian or SWANA (southwest asia and north africa) literature
we are not numbers, a palestinian youth-led project to write about palestinian lives
arab lit, a magazine for arabic literature in translation that is run by a crowd-funded collective
sumuo, an arab magazine, platform, and community (they appear to have a forthcoming palestine special print issue edited by leena aboutaleb and zaina alsous)
mizna, a platform for contemporary SWANA (southwest asian & north africa) lit, film, and art
the markaz review, a literary arts publication and cultural institution that curates content and programs on the greater middle east and communities in diaspora
online magazines who have published special issues of all palestinian writers (and all of them publish palestinian poets in their regular issues too)
fiyah literary magazine in december 2021, edited by nadia shammas and summer farah (if you have $6 usd to spare, proceeds from the e-book go to medical aid for palestinians)
strange horizons in march 2021, edited by rasha abdulhadi
the baffler in june 2021, curated by poet/translators fady joudah & lena khalaf tuffaha
the markaz review has two palestine-specific issues, on gaza and on palestinians in israel, currently free to download
literary hub featured palestinian poets in 2018 for the anniversary of the 1948 nakba
adi magazine, who have shifted their current (october 2023) issue to be all palestinian writers
outlets that generally seem to be pro-palestine/publish pro-palestine pieces and palestinian poetry
protean magazine (here's their solidarity statement)
poetry online (offering no-fee submissions to palestinian writers)
sundog lit (offering no-fee submissions to palestinian writers through december 1, 2023)
guernica magazine (here's a twitter thread of palestinian poetry they've published) guernica ended up publishing a zionist piece so fuck them too
split this rock (here's their solidarity statement)
the margins by the asian-american writers' workshop
the offing magazine
rusted radishes
voicemail poems
jewish currents
the drift magazine
asymptote
the poetry project
ctrl + v journal
the funambulist magazine
n+1 magazine (signed onto the open letter and they have many pro-palestine articles, but i'm not sure if they have published palestinian poets specifically)
hammer & hope (signed onto the letter but they are a new magazine only on their second issue and don't appear to have published any palestinian poets yet)
if you know others, please add them on!
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thebestofoneshots · 4 months
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This isn’t really a request but this came to may head at three in the morning ok Imagine like your getting fucked by one of the Marauders or all of them and yk those moving pictures they have in the wizard world image they have a whole box filled of the reader getting back shots and EVERYTHING 😵‍💫🥴
THE STASH | marauders x reader
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Pairing: J.P. x S.B. x R.L x Female Reader
Word Count: 5 k
Warnings: Smut, finger fucкing, a little bit of PTSD on Sirius, pictures taken w/o reader’s knowledge, reader being insecure and gaining back confidence thanks to the boys.
Prompt: You find the boy's stash, filled with lusty pictures and they make you feel insecure, thoughts about not being good enough for them arise, the catch is, that’s THE OLD stash. (Happy ending)
Notes: I had a similar idea already in my head so when I saw this ask I just knew I had to make it happen.
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♡ NSFW: Smut under the cut
You knocked on their door a couple of times when no one said anything, you decided to let yourself  in, “Rem? Jamie? Sirius?” 
No answer. 
You looked around and went to sit by Remus’ bed. He said he’d see you in their room later that night for study and maybe something more, but with study club and prefect duties, you assumed he was as busy as the two other boys were with the quidditch training. You didn’t mind it much though, their room was a lot more quiet to study in than yours, and it was always fun to see their surprised faces when they walked in and you were there. 
You were taking your book and some parchment out when a pot of ink fell from your bag and onto the floor. There was a thud and then another one and then it spilled all over. You gasped and left the bag on the side before leaning down to pick it up. You whispered a quick “reparo,” and the crystal pot wasn’t leaking anymore, but the ink was still on the floor and some of it was spilling down the wooden floorboard. 
“Fuck,” you whispered as you summoned a napkin from your bag and started to clean as best as you could, but it didn’t seem to be working, it was still spilling down into what looked like a nook on the floor. You frowned and looked at the wooden board in detail only to realize there was a section that was a little more worn than the rest. 
You frowned and tried to lift the board by digging your nails on the side but it wasn’t working, you huffed and walked over to Sirius’ night table to see if he still had his pocket knife there. Luckily he did, and you took it, pulling out one of the blades and using it as a crane to lift the wooden board.
Once you did you realized the ink had slipped inside most of the things they kept in there. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you whispered continuously as you tried to pull off the things in fear that they would be ruined with the ink. There were some old letters, some hand-rolled cigars, a few potions and then a small box, that one had gotten most of the ink. You winced and pulled it out, biting your lip as you tried to concentrate. You had been so busy with the cleaning, that you never saw the spiderwebs that covered most of the items. 
“Evanesco,” you whispered, focused solely on the ink, which successfully disappeared, but so did the small lock they had on the box and it opened by itself. You blinked a couple of times when you saw what was inside. You carefully grabbed one of the images, a stunning red-headed witch, winking at you as she bounced around, with her very large, and very beautiful breasts in full display. 
You gulped as you stared at her, she wiggled her shoulders a bit and gave you another wink. You sucked in a breath, she was freaking stunning. And probably there because of James’ fixation with redheads. 
The rest of the pictures were turned over, but curiosity got the best of you, and you took another piece of paper from the box. That one was bent in four, as if it had been ripped from a magazine. You slowly unbend it, first one fold and then the other and there was another stunning witch in the image. 
This one had smaller breasts, but she was leaning down on a bed, perfectly manicured hands brushing over her own folds, two perfectly long and well-shaped legs on the side. She had dark skin and the light reflected on her legs as she accommodated on the bed, her head leaning back with what looked like a sigh as she rolled her hand over her clit. She too was beautiful, and perfect. 
You sat the image on the side, next to the redhead and pulled another one. One of the smaller ones, only to be met with yet another stunning witch, perfectly flat stomach, and beautiful perky breasts, she was riding a pillow, one hand on the bed and looking straight at you as she bit her lips, inviting, enticing. You placed her next to the others as you pulled another image. And then another, and then another. 
Image after image, perfectly attractive witches in all sorts of positions, some by themselves, some with companions (either other hot witches or the cock of a wizard or two). You pressed your legs together, there was a mix of feelings inside you. First of all, you were a little turned on after seeing such kind of imagery. But second, and most important. You were a little upset. 
Which was ridiculous, you knew. Expecting the boys to pleasure themselves with the thought of you in mind when you weren’t around was stupid, especially when there were clearly much better and hotter witches in the market. What with their perfectly round breasts and their beautiful lips and flat stomachs and long legs and rosy cunts. You looked at them with a bit of a frown, they all had something in common, they were perfect, and you? You were far, far from that. 
Now you weren’t upset that the boys were doing themselves, you knew men needed a lot more release than women did and you tried to keep that in mind as you placed all the beautiful witches back in their box, but you couldn’t help but think: Did they also think of them when they were with you? Did they imagine the beautiful redhead’s breasts when they were kissing yours, or maybe that they were in between the legs of that girl with the gorgeous reflective skin instead of your own? 
While the pictures were meant to be stimulating, and they had been a little at the beginning, the more you thought about them, the more you thought they were so much unlike you and the more your thoughts continued to spiral. 
“Such beautiful witches…” you murmured as you closed the box, “and they are equally gorgeous men… why are they–“ You didn’t finish your words out loud, too painful to say them outside of your head. 
Why are they with me? 
You carefully placed the box back into its spot, cleaned the rest of the things that had gotten stained and placed everything back in their stash. You carefully placed the wooden plank back where it belonged and put Sirius’ knife back in his drawers. You took a deep breath, not feeling up for much and instead ripped a page from your notebook. 
“I’m feeling a little sick, see you boys tomorrow.”
It was simple enough not to make them question further, you left it on top of Remus’ bed and left the room. 
The following day, the boys being as marvelous and attentive as they were, had gotten you to forget about the stash almost completely. And things had been absolutely perfect since then.
At least until a few days later, you had been playing wizards chess with Sirius on his bed, and after he beat you for the third time making you feel both hopeless and a little dumb for not anticipating his moves –which was also ridiculous because Sirius had been a wizard chess champion– he offered to make it up to you. 
It was in the spark in his eyes that you knew exactly what he meant. You bit your lip, Remus was reading a book on his bed while James was snoring lightly next to him, one hand draped across the other boy’s torso. You knew they’d want to join in when they realized what you and Sirius were up to, and it sent a shiver down your stomach. 
“What do you say, doll?” Sirius asked as he levitated the chess board and the broken pieces to the side, inviting you to come closer.
You huffed “You think you can make it up with your little puppy eyes?” 
Sirius pretended to think about it for a second before nodding. “While they should be enough, I’m still planning to use more than just my looks to make you feel better.” 
You returned the smile and leaned closer to him, moving to straddle his sitting form, his back was pressed to the headboard and you could feel he was at least a little excited as you leaned into him. 
“Did you win so many times just so you could say that to me?” You asked in disbelief, you were drumming your fingers near the nape of his neck.
“I might have been a little extra attentive,” he replied as he grabbed onto your hips and placed a kiss on your neck. “I know how riled up you get when you can’t best me,” he said before placing another kiss, this time further up, “I kind of enjoy seeing your little frown, and angry looks,” he admitted, he was now kissing your jaw. You rolled your hips into his and he tightened his grip on your hips in response. 
You smiled, loving the fact that you knew exactly what Sirius liked and how to get him worked up, at least as much as he knew of you. You rolled your hips again and he reached his hand under your skirt, feeling the outside of your leg before flicking his hand to the inside of it. To the softer skin that he grabbed with firm tenderness. Itching his hand closer and closer, making sure to massage your skin, tauntingly. 
You leaned your head onto his shoulder, letting his beautiful hair fall on your face as you rolled your hips again, a lot softer this time, matching his pace and wanting his hand to come closer. 
“Eager, are we?” he teased.
“Shhh, you’ll wake up Jamie,” you said as you leaned over to kiss his neck. He bit his lip to hold back a moan and finally placed his hand over your panties, tracing a soft line over your slit. You bucked your hips against his hand and he chuckled lightly. 
Remus, who had been focused on his book so far, frowned and looked up at the two of you, smirking a little when he noticed what you were up to. Of course, he knew that chuckle, it was Sirius’ sexy teasing laugh. 
“Easy love or you’ll be the one to wake up Prongs,” he said, leaning his head to your ear and softly nibbling on it. He traced his hand over your slit a couple more times, and you bucked your hips again. He smiled, you didn’t see it, but you felt it against your skin, “All right, all right…” he said as he flicked his finger over the hem of your panties and moved them aside. You leaned even closer to him as he dug his fingers in, “All of this for me?” he teased as he felt how wet you were. 
Remus, who was now only half looking at his book, had somewhat of a fun time as he listened in to your conversation with Sirius. He would be lying if he said he didn’t find it stimulating. But he also knew Sirius had had a bit of a bad week, so he thought of letting him have you just for himself, at least for a little bit longer, or until James woke up, just as eager to join in. 
“Sirius please,” you whined with a frown and he smiled, letting his fingers trace up until they found your clit, making circles over it, which had you bucking your hips against him again. You bit the side of your cheek as you allowed him to move his hand, leaning in to kiss his neck again, to muffle any possible moans with his skin. 
“May I?” he asked, teasing your entrance with his index. 
“Mhm,” you said and bucked your hips again, eager for him to do his thing. And he complied, digging his finger inside and allowing it to move inside you as expertly as ever. 
“So tight,” he whispered, Remus’ cock twitching at Sirius’ words and reconsidering whether he actually wanted to wait more before joining in. 
He did not, so he carefully lifted James’ arm from his torso and walked towards Sirius’ bed. He sat right beside the two of you, a cocky smile on his face as he tilted his head to the side, “You two having fun there?” he asked, “without me?” 
“You’re always welcome to join in Moony,” Sirius said with a teasing grin as he pulled you back just a little. You had both of your hands on Sirius’ shoulders, and you were now using them as leverage to ride his hand. 
Moony smiled, “I might just watch for a while,” he said, leaning back and placing one of his hands on the back of Sirius’ neck. He knew how much small actions and touches like that made Sirius react, and he smiled as the boy’s breath hitched in his throat. He then turned to look at you, a mischievous grin on his face, he took his wand out and whispered “Evanesco.”  
Suddenly both your shirt and bra disappeared, giving both boys the perfect sight of your breasts perking up at the sudden cold. Sirius grunted as he stared, and Remus hummed satisfied. You clenched around Sirius’ fingers –which were now two– whimpered and let out a soft moan. 
But then, as you felt their gazes on you, and you felt your own boobs bouncing as you continued to ride Sirius’ expert fingers, you started to feel self-conscious, of how you looked, of how they were staring at you, on whether they were actually thinking of you or imagining something else, someone else. Maybe the beautiful redhead? The busty blonde? The reflextive-skinned goddess with the beautiful legs? The brunette with the beautiful ass?
Suddenly the lights flickered, and they were gone. You relaxed, Sirius felt the grip on his shoulder untensing, but he thought it was because you were close. But Sirius liked to see your fucked out face when he had his fingers inside you, and in seconds the lights were turned back on, and you tensed instantly. 
The muscle movements were normal, but the way you suddenly dug your nails into his shoulders was not, at least not in the moment it was happening and not in the way it was either. Something was up.
He stopped moving his hand in an instant, “you all right, angel?” he asked, a small wrinkle forming on his forehead as his brows furrowed together. 
You seemed to be lost in thought for a second, Remus noticed that too, “Yeah… just. Let’s leave the lights off today.” 
Now it was Remus’ turn to frown, he took his hand from Sirius’ neck and sat straighter, pulling back and leaning in closer to look at your face, his hand instinctively traveling to your thigh.  Sirius, with one hand still inside you –now unmoving– was brushing his thumb in circles on your waist, they were both giving you their unwavering attention, and your breath hitched in your throat. You looked at them nervously, your eyes traveling from boy to boy at unprecedented speeds and you bit your lip, and then the lights were off again. 
Once they were off, you sighed and leaned your head on Sirius’ shoulder. He felt how you relaxed in an instant, and his frown deepened. “Angel, what is it?” 
“Nothing, light’s giving me a headache,” you lied. 
Sirius turned to Remus, while he couldn’t see much, he knew Remus would probably be able to see his questioning stance easily, with his enhanced senses, at least. “You believe her?” he mouthed. 
Remus shook his head in response, and when he realized Sirius couldn’t actually see he turned to you and placed his hand on your shoulder. “Are you sure that’s it, luv?” 
You swallowed, which was enough indication you weren’t, and you lied again, “Yes, let’s just, continue as is.” 
Sirius knew you were lying, and he hated it when you lied to him, he also hated not being able to see shit while Remus could see your every reaction so he turned the lights on, didn’t even use his wand for it, and you tensed again. 
You were taken aback by that and swallowed thickly. Your breath was slightly ragged and it was not because you were turned on, in fact, if anything, you felt rather apprehensive now. You cleared your throat. “You know, maybe I’m just not feeling it,” you lied again and pulled yourself off of his hand. 
Sirius felt way too many things at the same time, he was worried about your reaction since he thought he’d done something wrong. He was angry because he knew you were hiding the exact reason; he wanted, no, he needed to know what was up so he would never do it again, and thirdly, he was upset, he’d felt…rejected. And by you, no other. 
By the time Sirius reacted again, you were buttoning your shirt up and walking towards their door. James, who had been asleep till then, was finally awoken by the lights coming on and off and the small commotion going on. He was confused, at first he thought you were just playing, but perhaps that was not it. 
But Sirius was faster, and he jumped over Remus to get to the door just as you were opening it and shut it closed. You jumped back just a little, shocked at how fast he’d moved, you were now the one with a frown, anger bubbling to your chest, Sirius’ temper had always been something you’d learn to deal with, and even if you knew it was justified now, that didn’t stop yours from flaring up. 
“That’s not it,” he said confidently, “that’s not it and you’re not getting out until you tell me what’s upset you.” 
“Sirius,” Remus said now, ever the conciliator. He’d also stood from the bed and walked the few strides left to get next to the two of you. 
Maybe it wasn’t the best reaction you could have had, but you were already pretty shaken up by the situation at hand, by your rather torturous thoughts and by Srius’ slamming of the door. “Oh, so you know my body better than I do?” you said defensively, “you would know if I have or not a headache.” 
“YES!” he responded stubbornly. “I know how it reacts when it has a headache and it’s not the way you were reacting now!” 
You shook your head as you scoffed, James was now sitting on the bed looking at the situation both confused and worried. 
“Moony! Back me up on this?” he said as he turned his face to him. 
Remus bit his lip, as he shook his head, thinking before speaking. “He’s right luv, that was not your headache reaction.” 
You scoffed, “ff course, you’d take his side.” 
“I’m not taking any sides.” 
“Well you are, just don’t realize it!” you said angrily. “If I say I have a headache, I have one and that’s it. Now, I want to leave.” 
“Darling,” Remus said as he let out a breath, he seemed worried and upset as well now, you were trying really hard not to feel bad about it, trying to remind yourself why you needed to leave. 
It was Sirius who spoke again, his lips quivering as he found the right words, “Just tell me what I did wrong, I’ll never do it again, I promise,” his voice broke near the end. He was panicking, he was terrified he’d hurt you and that you’d leave thinking the worst of him. You knew what was hapening had brought back some past trauma and you didn’t want to be the catalyst of another panick attack.
You took a deep breath when you heard him, your frown deepening as you considered your words, “I found your stash.” 
The three men went quiet in an instant. Sirius looked like a deer trapped in headlights, Remus’ jaw had tightened and you’d heard James’ gasp in the back. 
“Darling, I–“ Sirius tried to speak but you cut him off. 
“No, no,” you tried to reason, more with yourself than with him. “I get, it’s fine, you need your release time and all that, I don’t mind.” 
“Well, you clearly do,” Remus said. You felt a hand on your shoulder, it was James’. He had walked towards you the moment he heard about the stash but you hadn’t noticed until then. You flinched but missed the hurt look that etched his features as he looked at you. 
“Well yes. But it’s a stupid feeling nonetheless. I’ll get over it. Just need time.” 
“It was me,” James said from behind, “it was my idea, not Sirius’. Don’t be upset at him.” 
You swallowed thickly, not wanting to be angry at James for something so natural in men, let alone because you knew this whole mess was created due to your own thoughts and insecurities, not theirs. And now you were upsetting them, what a great bIoody girlfriend you were. 
“I don’t bIoody care whose idea it was!” you spat. “Please let me off,” you said then, leg bouncing, you wanted to get out before you said something that would upset them more. 
“We’ll never do it again if that makes you feel better,” Sirius tried. 
“No it– It fucking doesn’t, okay? It’s fine, it’s… Found it a couple of nights ago when my ink pot fell on the floor.” The three boys exchanged a look with each other, had either of them changed its spot? “It’s pretty fresh in my mind and– I just– I can’t stop thinking you’re imagining them while being with me.” 
“Them?” Sirius asked, confused. 
“The pretty witches!” you responded, almost angrily. Remus, who was in front of you looked confused, and you huffed before adding in more detail. “Beautiful redhead,” you looked at James. “Gorgeous blonde,” you added as you turned to Sirius. Then looked back at the taller boy, “need I elaborate?” 
You heard James gasp from behind. “She found the old stash!” 
“Ah, so you have a new and improved one,” you said now, and shook your head as you turned at the door. Sirius was leaning in and he had a cheeky smile on his face now, which pissed you off even further. 
“You could call it that,” he said with a shrug. 
“Sirius,” Remus said calmly again. “Don’t.” 
But Sirius just smiled instead, “Oh but, I’m impressed. Our lovely angel was jealous.” 
“I was not.” You said flatly. “Get off the door, please,” the last part was much more of a beg than a demand. 
Sirius shook his head, “not until you see the new stash.” 
Remus and James exchanged looks after that, not even sure if they should or shouldn’t stop Sirius. 
“I don’t want to see the witches you use to wank off now, it’s enough with the images already in my head. Can’t stop thinking of them, of you thinking about them when you’re looking at me.” 
Sirius’ face fell instantly, his teasing stance almost faltering but not his determined blockage of the door. 
“That’s not–“ 
“Have you considered perhaps it was the other way around?” Remus asked as he placed a slightly hesitant hand on your shoulder. 
“What?” 
“That we imagined you when looking at them.” 
You were taken aback by that. No, you hadn’t considered that. “What about the redhead, can’t tell me she wasn’t there because of James’ old obsession with Evans?” 
James sighed, it was. That’s why they had to get a new stash. 
“She needs to see the new stash,” Sirius said while looking at the two other boys. 
“I don’t think that’s a great idea,” James intervened, it had been his idea after all, and he had admitted it to you now. He didn’t want to have you get mad over something else, and this time your anger would be indisputably justifiable. 
“I think it is,” Sirius insisted. 
You sighed, “you can continue deciding if you’re going to show me your new fuckable witches or not a different day. Sirius, get off the door.” 
He shook his head and turned to James, “Please?” 
“I don’t want to see them! Enough is enough!” 
You turned to the side to try and find another exit when you bumped into Remus, he had a box in his hand. He raised it a bit, you knew what it was instantly. 
“Remus!” James complained and went to get it but was hastily stopped by Sirius who got in the way and trapped him in his arms. 
“Prongs behave!” He said sternly. 
The path to the door was free now, but Remus’ serious stance made you curious, even more when he moved his finger to his lips and bit hard enough to draw bIood. 
“What the fu–“ 
“It’s so no one can open but us,” he explained. “We bIood charmed it.” 
You looked at him with a shocked face, you didn’t think they’d go to such lengths to hide their spicy stuff, what the hell did they even have there?
Some of the metal hinges at the top moved around a little bit, looking almost like a miniature Gringotts vault, and then it snapped open. Remus pushed it your way. You looked at the three boys before picking the first image up. It was Remus, shirtless Remus on the day you’d gone swimming at the Potter’s last summer. He was pulling his hair back and water glistened all over his torso, he looked at you and winked, before turning to look at something else. 
You gasped and pulled another picture, it was James and Sirius, both also shirtless, and they were making out under a tree. Sirius had his leg in between James’ and was leaning onto him rather intensely. 
The next one was you, you had the swimsuit you’d bought that summer, the one you thought looked really good on you, and you were on your knees, looking for something on the sand, your ass was slightly prompted up and the picture was obviously focused on that. You swallowed thickly and went to grab another one. 
You again, this time while making out with Remus, his hand was on your ass and you had realized they were taking a picture, looking at the camera with a diverted gasp before covering the lens with your hand. 
You took another one, and this time around you were genuinely shocked, it was Remus, being blown by James. His pinky pretty lips wrapped around Rem’s cock. “Oh, wow.” 
James frowned, he knew what else there was in there and he wasn’t sure if he wanted you to see it, he had never felt worse about his own ideas than now. Responsible, he knew he had bertrayed you, in a way. You took the next picture and stared at it for a minute. 
It was you again, well, you’re back at least. You were riding Sirius, moving back and forth over his cock as he helped you, hands on your waist as he bit his lip. You didn’t see your face, but you knew it hadn’t been that long ago. If Sirius’ new tattoo was any telling. 
You looked at the boys shocked, you hadn’t even realized they’d taken the picture, but you looked as pretty as any witch in the other photos, how had they gotten you to look so good? 
They hadn’t done anything, it was just you. 
“You don’t have to–“ James started, but you had already picked up another picture.
“Shut up,” you said simply.
 You again, this time you were sprawled on the bed with a blindfold on your head. That had been on your birthday. James had one of his hands on your leg, dangerously close to your slit while Sirius was kissing your breast and sucking at your nipples. 
And there was more, a lot of pictures from that day, all in compromising positions. Some involving you and the boys, some involving only the boys on different occasions, some you remembered, some in which you hadn’t even been present. There was even one of Sirius wanking off to the picture of you in the swimsuit you had seen earlier. 
“I’m sorry–“ James said, now sounding distressed and shaking Sirius off him. “I’m sorry angel, we should have never done it.” 
You grabbed another one of the photos, it had clearly been rushed, the camera being hidden as you turned your head to look at the boys, this time around you were kneeling on the bed, and James was jerking himself off to you, teasing your entrance before pulling out completely and allowing his cum to fall over your ass and back. 
“You’re right.,” you said as you placed the pictures back in the box, expression neutral. “You should have never done it without asking me–” James swallowed. 
“Love I–“ 
“James, shut up!” you said again, giving the pictures another look. “You should have never done it without asking me first,” you said as you flipped through some more pics and tsking. “I would have helped.” 
James’ jaw dropped, and you looked at him with a cheeky smile. Sirius was looking at you proudly and satisfied with his choice while Remus stared at the picture you had in your hand. The one where you were getting a back shot but was shaky and blurry because the camera had been hidden before you saw it. 
You moved the picture up, holding it between your fingers as you displayed it to the boys, “What do you say we recreate this one, but with better quality?” 
Sirius scoffed a laugh and smiled. 
“I’ll get the camera,” Remus said simply.
James was still stunned, and you leaned over and placed a soft kiss on his lips. Sirius leaned from behind and kissed you on the cheek “I told them you should know about it from the beginning but they said you’re too pure for it.” 
You laughed at that, “you boys keep calling me angel,” you said as you turned to Sirius and wrapped your hands around his neck, “but I wouldn’t have done all the things I have with you all if I wasn’t the exact opposite,” you added with a smirk.
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Yandere Short Stories:
Always Watching, Done Waiting
Yandere Stalker x Terrified Fem Reader
TW: paranoia, psychological horror, STALKING, horror, yandere themes, unhealthy behavior that should never be romanticized, Your STALKER is not attractive
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“Hush, little baby, don't say a word, Mama's gonna buy you a mockingbird.” (Your name) wept into her knees when that haunting melody began to echo throughout her home. No doubt from the same radio it had played from countless times before late in the night…
The young woman trembled in the confines of her closet while heavy foot steps echoed down her hall. If she kept herself as small a possible, would (your name) be able to avoid being caught by this psycho?
For months she had been harassed by a mysterious man… a man who would not take no as an answer.
At first it was innocent! It was small bouquets of cheap flowers, the kinds that one could buy at a grocery store for under ten dollars. Then it was boxes of her favorite candies. Simple gifts that once brought her joy since she’s never really received such flattering attention… but then it quickly began to snowball into a darker matter. This was no simple puppy love, this was an obsession.
Notes made from magazine clippings for each letters so he couldn’t be recognized through his handwriting, dozens of intimate pictures of her placed in envelopes, and body parts of the local cats she fed all had littered her doorstep over the last two months. Each ‘present’ inspired dread within (your name).
Then began the break ins, the holes in her walls and ceilings that could fit an eye in there to peep, the notes delivered to her job, the isolation from all of her friends and family, and the paranoia. There was not a single place that felt safe to her any longer… and the police wouldn’t help since her stalker had never done anything to harm her.
What on earth could he possibly want from her? Her first born? Maybe he wanted to harvest her organs and sell them on the black market? No… even someone as dense as a rock knew this stalker was utterly obsessed.
“And if that mockingbird don't sing, Mama's gonna buy you a diamond ring.”
The nursery rhyme continued to echo down her hall as her pursuer continued to explore her home with agonizing slow steps. (Your name) had gotten rid of her spare key so how was he able to get in? Had he been staying here prior? God, she didn’t want to think about what this sicko was capable of.
Creak!
(Your name) silently scooted herself into the corner of her closet when she heard her bedroom door creak open. The young woman placed her hands over her mouth to prevent any noise from escaping despite the desire to scream. Hot tears fell down her cheeks, her body trembled like she was in below freezing temperatures. Oh god… she was about to die.
And that’s when the door was swung open to reveal a greasy man around her age. His dark hair greasy and his face covered in stubble and acne scars. (Your name) had seen this man before… he was the guy she gave a few sandwiches to last year! He was so drunk and lost, she felt bad for him… oh god. Was that small act of kindness her catalyst to her fate?
“My darling girlfriend!” The man bent down in front of her and set the radio beside him. His hands snatched hers up in a tight grip. He brought her knuckles up to his chapped lips to press kisses on them. “You’re so skittish… it’s just me!”
“W-who are you?” The man threw back his head and laughed before he gave her a small smile.
“It’s me, silly. Malachi? Your boyfriend of a year?” (Your name) remained as still as stone. A million thoughts ran through her head while this mad man continued to ramble. “I’m sorry I didn’t come to fetch you sooner but money has been tight.”
(Your name) was suddenly pulled into a hug, the young woman tried her best not to gag from the heavy scent of musk and cigarettes that permeated from Malachi. “It was hard to stop drinking, but you were worth it! You were always so kind to me with your pretty smile and your sandwiches… I wouldn’t be here today if it wasn’t for you!”
“W-what-“ (your name) nearly fainted when her eyes met his crazed blue ones. How could someone hold so much emotion in their eyes?
“I got my life together and I found a nice place for us… it’s perfect!” Malachi pressed his nose against hers. “It’s away from all of the weird men that harass you in the convenience store and away from all those nasty animals. It’ll be our little safe haven!”
(Your name) snapped out of her stupor when he said that. She had to get away… she needed to run!
The young woman tried to pull away from Malachi but his grip on her was stronger than an anacondas.
“I know it’s a really big step, but it’s been a year now! And I’m tired of waiting for us to take bigger steps! I know you liked my gifts! You never threw any of them away!” Because she needed evidence to give to the police! The same people who wouldn’t protect her…
(Your name) gulped when she felt Malachi press his hips into hers. Something large pressed against her that made her stomach drop. “I’ve been watching you for so long… and I’m done waiting.”
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greg-montgomery · 3 months
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Aaron going through boxes of old stuff and finding a journal of yours from a long time ago. He opens it out of curiosity and reads about how your younger self always wanted to be called princess from a significant other so he tries it out along with buying a nice bouquet of flowers 🤭
Aaron’s cheeks were almost hurting by smiling all day, because he was surrounded by boxes of your belongings that would soon be all over his house. Your house.
One certain box with the word “memories” in capital letters written on it though, drew his attention. Opening it, he was met with a few books, magazines, cards, and concert tickets.
At the bottom of the box, there was a pink journal with your name decorating its cover.
It looked personal, but it also looked like it was from a long time ago. He couldn’t help it, and with his curiosity getting the better of him, he opened it.
The pages were filled with pink glittery letters, little drawings, and stickers of Disney princesses and Barbie characters.
He smiled with affection while turning the pages and seeing what your younger self used to fill her journal with. He almost skipped a page when his eyes fell on the title written on top of it.
“My dream boy!”
Oh, this is gonna be interesting, he thought.
Aaron found himself competing with the ideal version of a boyfriend your teenage self had. He went through every single point you had written down, and mentally checked it.
That version of you, was still part of who you were today, and the last thing he wanted was to disappoint you or not be enough.
Tall – check.
Dark hair – check.
Sweet – check, well to you at least.
Brings me flowers – check.
Calls me princess – not check.
Princess, huh? That was new.
He knew that you were big on pet names, but princess had never occurred to him before.
A smirk grew on his face. It was time to see if your tastes had changed.
--
Just the day after, Aaron made sure to visit a flower shop after work and buy your favorite flowers. If he was gonna try something, he was going to do it right.
He found you sitting on the couch, eating a bag of chips and scrolling on your phone, some show on the TV playing in the background. You left it open for company when he wasn’t there and something inside him stung a little.
“Baby?”
You threw your head back on the couch and looked up at him as he moved closer. “You’re home,” you sighed with a smile. “Missed you.”
“I did too.” He leaned down to kiss you on the lips and brought the flowers he was hiding behind his back in front of you. “That’s why I decided to get some flowers to my princess.”
Your face lightened up at the sight of the beautiful bouquet and the sound of the pet name. “Aaron!”
You stood up on the couch and threw yourself at him, hugging him with a force that could bring down a bear. “Thank you!”
“You like them, honey?”
“I love them.”
Aaron sighed at the feeling of your lips on his neck, as you left little kisses on the curve of it. “Anything for my princess.”
Your face was still hidden in the crook of his neck but Aaron could feel you laughing.
“What are the giggles for?”
���Nothing…”
He pulled back just enough so he could look at your face, and grabbed your chin softly. You averted your eyes from him as if you had something to hide.
“Y/N?”
“It’s nothing!” you insisted. “I just like to be called that,” you added quietly, playing with a button from Aaron’s shirt. You still wouldn’t look at him.
“To be called what?” he asked.
“Princess…”
“I know.” He smirked.
“What do you mean?”
“I read it in your diary.”
“What?” you raised your voice and he couldn’t help but laugh.
“I found it through your old stuff.”
“Aaron, I’m gonna kill you!”
“I’m sorry!”
“No, you’re not. You’re laughing.”
“Oh come on, it got you what you wanted.”
“Shut up,” you said , furrowing your brows.
The two of you sat on the couch and he tried to pull you into his arms. After showing resistance for a few seconds, you let him hold you.
“What else did you read?”
“I saw the whole list. About your dream guy.”
“I don’t remember adding ‘he reads my journal without permission’,” you said.
“I do have all the rest though,” he said with a cocky smile.
“You do, I guess,” you admitted, rolling your eyes. “I was manifesting.”
“I hope you’re happy with the guy the universe sent you then, princess.”
“Ah…” you threw your head back with a lovesick smile. “And it's only getting better.”
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waitimcomingtoo · 1 year
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Kept Me Like a Secret When I Kept You Like An Oath
Pairing: Peter Parker x Stark!Reader
Synopsis: Tony has a strict rule against you dating, so when he finds out you and Peter have been dating behind his back, he comes up with a lie to keep you apart
Masterlist
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“Hey love bug, do you know the Hulu password?” Tony asked you once you opened your door for him.
“Oh, yeah. It’s flower power boo boo foot. No spaces.” You quickly answered and tried to shut the door on your dad.
“I thought so too. But I tried that and it didn’t work.” Tony sighed and pushed your door right back open.
“Did you capitalize every first letter?”
“Yep. No dice.”
“Try “smithereens”. I think that’s the new one.” You told him and tried to shut the door again.
“I tried that too. That’s the Netflix password.” Tony shook his head, oblivious to the fact you were trying to get rid of him.
“Oh darn. I guess I don’t know it then.” You faked a laugh and tried to close your door.
“Didn’t we change it at some point to America’s ass? No spaces?” Tony asked and pushed your door back open.
“We did. But then Steve got mad so we made it “Steve’s a Virgin” for a couple weeks. Then he got more mad so we made it “smithereens”. If it’s not that anymore, then I don’t know it.”
“Huh. Then I’ll just change it to “buckysucks” and write it down.” Tony decided.
“Good plan.” You nodded quickly and prayed he’d leave.
“All right. Thanks, kiddo.”
“Bye, daddy.” You smiled sweetly and shut your door with your free hand.
Your other hand, which had been out of sight that whole conversation, was covering Peters mouth as he hid from Tony. His back was pressed against the wall beside your door and he was holding his breath to be as quiet as possible. He placed his hand over yours to keep quiet, his hand that was still covered by his Spiderman suit.
“That was a close one.” You said as you took your hand off his mouth.
“I know. But how exciting was it?” Peter grinned as he scooped you up. You shrieked in excitement before pulling Peter into a kiss. He never broke the kiss as he walked you over to your bed and laid you down on it. Just when you were getting into a groove, you heard a knock at the door. Peter flew to the ceiling and stuck to it as you sat up and smoothed your hair.
“Honey, one more thing.” Tony said as he opened your door.
“Yes daddy?” You smiled sweetly and tried to discreetly catch your breath.
“Can you send me that chicken recipe again? I want to make it for dinner tonight.”
“You mean you want our chef to make it for dinner tonight?” You raised an eyebrow.
“Precisely.”
“I’ll send it to you.” You told him and immediately sent it to get rid of him quicker.
“Are you feeling okay, pumpkin? You look a little sweaty.” Tony asked, making you gulp. Your eyes flicked to your ceiling, where Peter was hanging upside down and holding his breath.
“I’m good. Probably just coming down with something.” You laughed nervously and wiped your forehead.
“Oh no. I’ll make you some tea.”
“Thanks daddy.” You blew him a kiss as he shut the door. Once he was gone, Peter dropped down from the ceiling and landed on your bed.
“You really need to get a lock on your door.” Peter chuckled and leaned in again.
“Where’s the fun in that?” You scoffed and cupped his face to kiss him. As much as you hated hiding your relationship from your dad, the thrill of having a secret made it all that much more exciting. It had been three months of you and Peter sneaking around now and you were starting to get less careful.
A couple days later, Tony went into Peters room to talk to him about upgrading his suit. He wandered around and looked at the various things on Peters desk as he spoke until something caught his eye.
“Now this is interesting.” Tony said as he leaned over Peters desk.
“Tell me about it. That’s not even the first flock of birds to drop out of the sky this year.” Peter answered, thinking Tony was looking at the science magazine he had open on his desk.
“Actually, I meant these.” Tony said and held up a lavender pair of your underwear.
“Oh my God.” Peter gasped as all the color drained from his face.
“You know, Parker, I had you pegged for more of a boxer briefs kinda guy.” Tony chuckled and dropped the underwear back onto the desk.
“Those aren’t mine.” Peter quickly explained.
“Really? I thought Victoria Secret No Show panties would be perfect for you in your skin tight suit.” Tony teased.
“Sorry about that. It won’t happen again.”
“Well don’t stop doing what you’re doing on account of me. I am many things but I am not one to blicken anyones chicken.”
“Blicken - oh. Cock block. I get it.” Peter sighed in disappointment.
“So who’s the lucky lady?” Tony asked and took a seat on Peters bed.
“Oh, uh, we don’t have to talk about this. Don’t worry. May already had “the talk” with me.” Peter laughed nervously and hoped Tony would get the hint to drop it.
“I don’t mind it. You’re the closest thing I have to a son and I always thought I’d be really good at giving the sex talk.”
“You’ve always thought that?” Peter scrunched his nose.
“Let’s just talk basics so I can get out of your hair. Are you guys being safe?”
“Yes. Totally safe.” Peter assured him.
“Good. Because we don’t know how radioactive your web fluid is, if you catch my drift.”
“I wish I didn’t but I do.” Peter grimaced.
“So is it just one girl or are you running some kind of brothel in here?” Tony questioned.
“Just one girl. My girlfriend.” Peter said with a shy smile.
“Well I’ll be. You’ve taken a lover.” Tony smiled proudly and patted Peters knee.
“Yeah, I guess I have.” Peter laughed and rubbed the back of his neck.
“Oh, I get it. I recognize the blush of a smitten man. I get the same blush every time I catch my reflection in a building when I pass by it. How long have you been seeing this girl?”
“Three months. But the…other stuff only started recently.”
“Good for you for waiting. I’ll have you know that Pepper and I waited. I’ll also have you know that Pepper couldn’t stand me for the first few years she knew me.”
“Yeah. She’s mentioned that.” Peter chuckled.
“Do you love her? And follow up, have you told her if you have?”
“I haven’t told her yet. But I do. I love her with all my heart.”
“Then why haven’t you told her?”
“I’m scared too. I’m scared she doesn’t love me back yet.” Peter admitted for the first time out loud.
“Peter, she’s been dating you for three months and is willing to sneak into the highly secluded Avengers tower just to bust it open for you. I think it’s safe to assume she loves you.”
“Maybe.” Peter laughed shyly and started to feel a twinge of guilt for lying to Tony about who he was dating.
“How does she get in here anyway? I’ve never seen a girl around here.” Tony realized, making Peter gulp.
“I swing her up to my window.” Peter quickly lied.
“Aw. Like Rapunzel.”
“Yeah. Exactly like Rapunzel.” Peter nodded in agreement.
“Well I’m happy for you, kid. I really am. Any girl would be lucky to be dating a man like you. And I know if my daughter ever brought home a guy like you, I’d be damn proud of her for picking a good one.” Tony said and patted Peters shoulder. Peter looked at Tony’s hand on his shoulder and felt like he could cry. It was one of the most sincere and heartfelt things Tony had ever said to Peter and it killed Peter that it happened because of a lie.
“Do you really mean that?” Peter asked quietly.
“I do. I saw greatness in you the day I met you, kiddo. And I’ve seen in everyday since.” Tony said with a fond smile.
“Thanks, Mr. Stark. That means a lot to me.” Peter answered and put his hand over Tony’s. Inside, it was absolutely killing Peter to lie to Tony’s face in that moment. His guilt doubled and he knew he had to come clean as soon as possible.
“Well now I’ve made myself uncomfortable by expressing my feelings. I’m gonna leave now before an awkward silence settles in. See you at dinner?” Tony cleared his throat awkwardly and stood up from Peter’s bed.
“See you at dinner.” Peter nodded and felt relived that Tony was leaving.
“K. Love you.” Tony said as he walked towards the door.
“I love you too.” Peter said sincerely.
“Gross.” Tony grimaced. He then winked at Peter before leaving his room. Once he was gone, Peter felt himself get emotional as tears slipped down his face. He couldn’t believe he just lied to a man who had given him so much. Peter quickly wiped his face and went to your room to settle this before it went any further.
“Hey.” You smiled when you opened your door and saw him.
“Hey. Can we talk?” Peter asked as he came in and shut the door behind him.
“Oh. Yeah, sure. Is everything okay?”
“No, it’s not okay. I just talked to your dad.”
“Did you tell him about us?” You worried and sat on your bed.
“No. But he found your underwear in my room.” Peter sighed as sat beside you.
“Oh no. What did you tell him?” You laughed, still not understanding the gravity of the situation.
“That I have a girlfriend.”
“Okay. Maybe this will work in our favor. It’ll be easier to sneak around if he knows you’re dating someone.” You shrugged. Peter kept his eyes on his lap and you noticed that his leg was bouncing nervously.
“What’s wrong?” You asked and placed your hand on his knee to calm him down. Peter sucked in a sharp breath before getting emotional again.
“I don’t want to sneak around anymore. I can’t keep lying to your dad like this. I can’t do it.” Peter said with watery eyes.
“Peter, we talked about this. He can’t know about us. He made it very clear that I’m not allowed to date until I’m 21.” You sighed and withdrew your hand.
“I know we talked about it. But he and I had a great conversation and I really think things will be different. He just told me he’d be proud of you if you brought home a guy like me.”
“Peter, he says that now as a hypothetical but if he knew we were actually dating, he would feel differently.”
“I cannot keep breaking his trust like this. It’s killing me to lie to him. And I don’t know what’s gonna be worse. When he finds out I’m dating you or when he finds out I lied to his face about it.” Peter got off your bed and started to pace your room in a panic.
“If he finds out about us, he’s just gonna flip out and tell us we’re too young and too dumb to date. He’ll never be okay with this.” You reminded Peter as you got off your bed. You put your hands on his shoulders to calm him down and he stopped pacing.
“I know. But what’s he gonna do? It’s not like he can force us to break up.”
“Maybe not. But he can take your suit away and kick you out of the tower. Or make FRIDAY lock you out of my room permanently. Or make sure we are never alone together. He’s Tony Stark. He had infinite resources and time on his hands. If he wants us to break up, he will find a way.”
“Then we will just find a way to be together. No matter what he does.” Peter promised as he took your hands.
“But it will never be the same. Isn’t it better to lie to him so we can be together like this for as long as possible?”
“I’m not a liar. And he knows that.” Peter shook his head decidedly and let go of your hands. You folded your arms and stared at Peter for a minute, knowing he had already made up his mind. You hated lying to your dad just as much as Peter did, but you knew it was the only way for you to remain together.
“Can you just give me a little more time? Just in case he forces us apart?” You asked quietly and took Peter’s hands again. He looked at your hands and sighed before nodding his head.
“Okay. We’ll keep it a secret for a little longer.”
“Thank you.” You smiled and cupped his face to kiss him. When you pulled away, Peter got a look on his face that you didn’t recognize.
“Was there something else?” You asked him.
“Yeah. I…” Peter began but trailed off when he lost his nerve. He wanted to tell you he loved you, but his fear stopped him once again.
“Never mind. I’ll tell you later.” Peter faked a smile.
“Okay. Tell me later.”
The next day, you left to go on a recon mission with some of the other Avengers. Peter stayed back at the tower since his powers wouldn’t be useful and spent the week listlessly lounging around as he waited for you to come back. Finally, he got an alert that the quintet had landed on the rooftop. Peter excitedly jumped off his bed and ran into the foyer to see you. When he got there, he saw Tony and some other Avengers, but no you.
“Hey. Did the mission go okay?” Peter asked as he scanned the room for you.
“For the most part. Until Y/n got hit with a missile.” Tony said causally.
“What?!” Peter shrieked. “How did that happen?”
“She stood right in front of a middle launch pad.” Steve answered like it was the most simple thing in the world.
“Yeah. It was 100% her fault.” Tony chuckled. “She’ll be okay though. She’s recovering in the medical wing.”
“I have to see her.” Peter said and tried to push past Tony.
“Slow your roll there, Parker.” Tony stopped him. “She’s got open wounds so the doctor doesn’t want any outside germs in the room with her. You can see her when she’s out in a couple days.”
“No, no, no. I need to be in there with her.” Peter started to panic and tried to go towards your room again.
“No, you do not. You can see her after.” Tony pushed Peter back again with an annoyed laugh.
“You don’t understand. I need to see her now.” Peters eyes teared up as he tried one last time to get around Tony. By this point, Tony was more than suspicious and had a sinking feeling in his stomach.
“What don’t I understand? Why exactly do you need to see her so badly?” Tony questioned as he folded his arms. From the desperation in Peters voice, Tony had figured out what was going on. And from the tone in Tony’s voice, Peter figured he knew exactly what Peter was about to say. Peter stared at Tony for a minute as he went over his options in his head. He knew you didn’t want your dad to know about your relationship yet, but it might be his only chance of getting to see you while you were hurt. With the knowledge of you being hurt clouding his judgment, he made a snap decision.
“Because I love her.” Peter said quietly. Tony’s jaw locked as his suspicions were confirmed.
“Excuse me?” Tony asked in a low voice.
“Mr. Stark, I am in love with your daughter. And I need be with her. Please.” Peter pleaded in a shaking voice.
“I thought you had a girlfriend?” Tony asked as he folded his arms.
“I do. It’s her.”
“You’ve been dating my daughter behind my back for three months?”
“Yes. I have. And I know you’re going to yell and scream and throw things at me but before you do, please understand that I never wanted to lie to you. She asked me to keep our relationship a secret so I did. Because I would do anything for her. Absolutely anything.”
Tony stared at him for a long time but said nothing. Peter didn’t know this, but Tony was tallying up in his head all the times you and Peter had lied to him to keep your relationship a secret.
“Okay. You can yell at me now.” Peter said and braced himself.
“I’m not going to yell at you.”
“You’re not?”
“You didn’t tell me for three months?” Tony asked again, sadness in his voice this time.
“No. I didn’t.” Peter admitted, making Tony nod his head.
“I expected more from you.” Tony said without looking into Peters eyes.
“I know, and I’m sorry, but-“
“You will move all your stuff out by tonight.” Tony cut him off. “You will go back to living with May. Happy will call you if -and that’s a big if- I need you for a mission. Other than that, you are not affiliated with the Avengers. You are not welcome in this tower. And you are never, ever, to speak to my daughter again. Do you understand?”
“Mr. Stark, I know you’re mad but-“
“Do you understand?” Tony cut him off again by yelling. Peter felt tears come to his eyes but he nodded his head.
“Yes sir.” Peter said quietly.
“Good. Now go.” Tony said and pointed to the door. Peter noticed Tony’s finger was shaking but said nothing. He reluctantly walked towards the door and before he could open it, he heard Tony’s voice again.
“I am so disappointed in you.” Tony said, delivering the final blow. Peter quickly left the room before Tony could see him cry.
By the time you woke up, Peter was long gone. You struggled to sit up and winced when you felt the wound on your side.
“Daddy? What happened?” You asked as you rubbed your eyes.
“Hey sweetheart. Welcome back. You got absolutely wasted by a missile.” Tony said in a soft voice.
“Typical.” You sighed. “Are there any major injuries?”
“Your ear is shot but the doctor said it’s only temporary.”
“Good thing Clint taught us all ASL.” You signed to Tony.
“Yeah. Good thing.” Tony signed back. You smiled and squeezed his hand before looking around the room.
“Has anyone come by to see me?” You asked, but meant someone in particular.
“Everybody has. This is the first time your room has been empty since you got here.”
“Aw. I can’t wait to see them all.” You smiled softly when you noticed the cards and flowers in your room that the team had left.
“They can’t wait to see you.”
“Did Peter come by?” You asked, making Tony’s smile drop.
“No. He hasn’t.” Tony said quietly.
“He hasn’t?” You frowned. “Does he know what happened?”
“Well he’s been a little busy so I’m not sure he heard the news.” Tony lied to you without even thinking about it.
“Busy? With what?” You laughed skeptically and looked around for your phone to text Peter.
“Well you know how he has a girlfriend?”
“Yeah. I heard about that.” You replied without looking your dad in his eyes.
“Well the security cameras caught Peter sneaking her into the tower while we were gone. I found that a little disrespectful so I told him that if he wanted overnight guests, he’d have to bring them to his own home. He agreed and said he’d be sleeping back at his apartment with May from now on.” Tony lied to you as he said the first thing that popped into his head.
“Wait, what? You saw Peter with a girl?”
“With his girlfriend, yes.” Tony continued to lie. He knew you were Peters girlfriend, but you didn’t know he knew, so he was taking advantage.
“That isn’t possible.” You laughed uncomfortably.
“Why not?” Tony played dumb.
“Because…” You began then trailed off. You didn’t know Tony already knew about you and Peter so you were still determined to keep the secret. So as much as you wanted to tell your dad that what he was saying meant Peter was cheating on you, you had to keep quiet.
“Nothing. No reason. I’m just surprised he brought a girl here. And now he’s moving out?”
“Yep. He moved all his stuff out already. He was being weird about the whole thing. He seemed super freaked out when I told him that I knew about the girl. He even begged me not to tell you. Isn’t that strange? I don’t know why he thought you would care.” Tony shrugged as he fed you more of the lie. He watched your face crumple and knew he was hurting you but decided it was for the best.
“Yeah. Me either.” You said quietly as you fought back tears.
“Well I’ll let you get some rest, kiddo. See you in the morning.” Tony kissed your forehead before leaving your room. As soon as he was gone, you pulled your comforter over your head and cried yourself to sleep.
Tony’s plan worked and you ended up blocking Peters number before he had a chance to reach out to you. And while kicking Peter out kept the two of you apart while you recovered from your injury, Tony didn’t account for the fact that you and Peter went to the same college. Peter finally saw you again on your first day back at school and pushed people out of the way to get to you.
“There you are. I’ve been texting and calling you like crazy for the past two weeks. Why haven’t you answered me?”
You ignored Peter and continued putting your books away in your locker. Peter blinked a few times in confusion before trying again.
“Are you okay? I never even got to see you after your accident. Is everything all right with you? I was so worried.” Peter asked and rubbed your arm. You pushed his hand away and slammed your locker before walking away. Peter shook his head in confusion before running after you.
“Hello? Can you hear me?” He asked and stepped in front of you.
“What do you want Peter?” You sighed.
“What do I want? To talk to my girlfriend, maybe. I’d like to start there.” He said sarcastically.
“Oh, your girlfriend? Which one?” You asked and folded your arms.
“Huh?”
“My dad told me about the other girl. I know that’s why you moved out. Did you really think you could cheat on me in my own house and I wouldn’t find out?” You asked before walking away again. Peter looked up at the ceiling to ask the sky what the hell you were talking about before running after you. He caught up to you and placed his hands on your shoulders to stop you.
“What the hell are you even talking about? Cheat on you? With who?” Peter exclaimed.
“I don’t know her name.” You rolled your eyes. “All I know is my dad said he saw you with another girl when I was gone on the mission.”
“What?!” Peter shrieked. “That never happened. All I did when you were gone was wait for you to come back.”
“Then why did you move out?”
“Because your dad kicked me out!” Peter exclaimed before looking around for who might be listening.
“Because your dad kicked me out.” He whispered, making you roll your eyes again.
“Why would he do that?”
“Because found out about us. Or, I told him about us. But only because you were hurt and I was scared so I panicked and blurted that I…”
“That you…” You urged him to finish his sentence once he trailed off. Peter looked at you for a minute and decided that the only way to get you to understand what happened was to tell you the whole truth.
“That I love you. I told him that I loved you. That’s how he found out.” Peter admitted. Your angry expression immediately melted to one of confusion as you dropped your guard.
“You told my dad you loved me before you told me?”
“It wasn’t exactly planned.” Peter said quietly. Your face lit up in a fond smile as peters face burned bright red.
“You love me?” You asked and took peters hands.
“A whole lot, unfortunately.”
“Peter.” You gushed and wrapped your arms around his neck. He immediately hugged your back and melted into your touch after weeks of silence from you.
“Wait, I’m mad at you.” You remembered and let go of him.
“Baby girl, do you think it’s possible that your dad lied about me cheating to get you to hate me?” Peter asked slowly.
“Why would he want me to hate you?”
“Because if you hate me, you’re not gonna beg him to let us be together. It was kind of a genius move if you think about it. You didn’t know that he knew about us so he made up a story to get you to hate me. That way, he didn’t have to break us up or hear about why we should be together.”
“Damn it. He is a genius.” You whispered when you realized Peter was probably right. Peter stepped forward and cupped your face in his hands so you’d look at him.
“I didn’t cheat on you, honey. I swear. I think we both know I’m not organized or coordinated enough to pull that off.”
“You’re right. I don’t know why I believed him so easily. Maybe because he told me while I was still high on morphine.” You sighed and wrapped your arms around Peter again.
“So we’re okay?” He asked hopefully. You broke into a smile and kissed him before pulling away.
“I love you too.” You told him before kissing him again.
“Now let’s go kill my dad.” You said sweetly once you pulled away.
“Aw.” Peter smiled. “Wait, what?”
~
“I don’t think this is a good idea. He’s gonna kill me.” Peter whispered to you as you walked hand in hand to the main room of the tower.
“Probably.” You whispered back, making Peter stop in his tracks.
“What?! So why are we doing this?”
“Because it’s what’s right. He can’t get mad at us for lying to him and then turn around and do the same thing to me by lying to my face. We are in love and there is no reason we shouldn’t be together. And that’s exactly what I’m gonna tell him.” You said as you grabbed his hand to continue pulling him. When you got to the main room, you saw most of the team sitting around.
“Oh good. Everybody’s here.” You said, getting everyone’s attention. Tony’s eyes went from Peters face to your intertwined hands before he stood up.
“What’s he doing here?” Tony asked angrily and pointed to Peter. Peter looked at you in fear but you squeezed his hand to let him know it was going to be okay.
“Everyone, Peter and I have something to tell you. We are in love and in a relationship.” You announced and waited for reactions. Everyone looked at each other but no one seemed particularly interested.
“Um, congrats? Is that really something that needed to be announced?” Natasha laughed awkwardly.
“Yeah, no offense guys, but I don’t think anyone cares that you two are together.” Steve said and everyone nodded in agreement.
“Oh. Damn. Anticlimactic.” You mumbled under your breath. Tony, on the other hand, was not as nonchalant.
“Like hell you are.” Tony scoffed. “This is not happening. Not under my roof or anywhere else that I own. Which is a lot of property, by the way.”
“Dad, you can’t keep Peter and I apart. Especially not by lying to me and saying he cheated on me.”
“Yeah, I kinda can’t believe you bought that. I came up with it on the spot.” Tony dropped his anger for a second to snort.
“Oh my God.” You face palmed.
“It wasn’t fair to me. I’ve been nothing but loyal, helpful, and respectful towards you. You had no reason to kick me out and lie about me.” Peter spoke up, getting everyone’s attention.
“Uh, here’s a reason.” Tony scoffed and held up a finger. “You had sexual intercourse with my off spring. I freaking found her panties in your room next to your Lego police station!”
“Your “off spring” is my girlfriend, okay? It’s not like Y/n and I are just hooking up. We are dating and in love and it is none of your business. So I’m sorry if you don’t like that we’re together, but I’m also not sorry. Because you need to get over it. She’s an adult and she can date whoever she wants. So you can kick me out of the tower and try to keep us apart, but you’ll never be able to break us up. We love each other and we don’t care how that makes you feel.”
“Yeah.” You chimed in. “If you kick him out, I’ll just go with him. And I don’t care if you emancipate me because of it. I’d rather be poor with him than rich without him.”
“Did you just stand up to me?” Tony asked with tight eyes.
“Did you just call me poor?” Peter asked you.
“Yes?” You answered both their questions with a question.
“Wow. Things are becoming clearer. Words are being processed. Previously held opinions are being changed. Gasp! I realizing that I was…wrong?” Tony gasped and sat back down on the couch with a dumbfounded expression.
“He is unbearable sometimes.” Steve groaned and rubbed his eyes.
“Yeah, wait a minute. Tony, did you really do that? Did you really kick Peter out and lie to your kid?” Natasha asked.
“I will admit that I lied to my beloved daughter about the loyalty of her boyfriend to split them up. And that I may have slightly overreacted when I heard Peter and Y/n were an item.” Tony confessed, making everyone groan.
“Is that it? You’re just admitting to something we already know you did?” You asked and folded your arms. Peter put an arm around you to show that he supported you and judging by the looks of everyone else’s faces, they supported you too. Tony looked around the room before letting out a sigh.
“I ran so hot when I was young. I didn’t think I’d ever be able to settle down and start a family. Not because I didn’t want to, but because I didn’t think anyone would want to with me. So when your mother got pregnant, I swore I would be the most devoted and loving father I possible could be. And once your mom and I split up, I worried that I’d be your father but I wouldn’t be your dad, you know? I was so excited that you chose to live with me. I thought it would always be the two of us. Plus the 10 adults who also live with us.”
“I think we’re up to 12 now.” Sam mumbled.
“I wasn’t expecting a boyfriend.” Tony continued. “You’re still 6 in my head. You’re still my little girl. And I just didn’t know how to handle finding my little girls drawers in Peters bedroom.”
“Little girls grow up eventually.” You told him.
“I know.” Tony sighed. “But eventually is a lot different from actually.”
“Well just because you didn’t want me to grow up doesn’t excuse what you did.” You stood your ground.
“I see that now. I’m sorry that I lied to you. I did it without thinking it through and it was wrong of me.” Tony apologized and you nodded in satisfaction.
“Okay. Now Peter.” You said and pushed Peter forward.
“Excuse me?” Tony raised an eyebrow.
“What’s that now?” Peter turned to you to ask.
“Apologize to Peter.” You told him. “I wasn’t the only one you wronged.”
“She’s right. How could you kick Peter out? He’s the only one who knows the HBO Max password.” Natasha pointed out.
“It’s “fuckyfarnes”.” Peter said quietly.
“Yeah. That wasn’t cool Tony. You better apologize to him.” Steve agreed. Tony rolled his eyes to the ceiling and swung his arms like a little kid before looking at Peter.
“I’m sorry, kid. I shouldn’t have kicked you out like that. It didn’t bother me as much that Y/n lied. Daughters lie to their dads. It’s human nature. But when I realized you’d been lying to me…I don’t know. I felt betrayed. You weren’t my kid lying to me. You were my friend.”
“Well I’m sorry I lied. But we wouldn’t have had to lie to you if you didn’t have a crazy rule have against Y/n dating anybody until she’s 21.” Peter defended.
“Wait, you seriously made that a rule? Did you lock her in a tower too and tell her not to let her hair down for anybody?” Sam snorted.
“It seemed like a good idea at the time, okay?” Tony defended. “I didn’t want her to end up like Taylor Swift. Taylor’s heart was broken way too many times as a teenager and then again on her 21st birthday. I didn’t want the same fate for my daughter.”
“How do you know how many times Taylor Swift’s heart was broken?” Steve asked in confusion.
“Clearly you’ve never listened to her discography because she is very specific about the ages to weary of.” Tony said with a roll of his eyes.
“It’s true. She is. 7, 13, 15, 17, 18, 19.” You listed off.
“22.” Tony added.
“I thought 22 is the good age?” Steve asked.
“Not according to “Nothing New” it’s not.” Tony scoffed and you nodded in agreement.
“Can we circle back to the topic anytime soon?” Peter asked but everyone ignored him.
“Why are the years from 17 to 21 so perilous?” Bucky raised his hand to ask.
“Because at 17 you don’t know anyhting and nobody understands. 18 is actually good because you know everything but 19 is bad because you dance with the devil while you’re too young to be messed with. 20 is a year of neutral good but 21 is when Jake Gyllenhaal takes your virginity and your scarf and then doesn’t show up to your birthday party.” Tony explained.
“I gotta start listening to this girls music because what the actual fuck?” Steve blew out a breath of exhaustion.
“Who is Jake Gyllenhaal and does he take everyone’s virginity at 21 or does he pick and choose?” Bucky raised his hand to ask. Tony started to answer but Peter cut him off.
“SHUT UP ABOUT TAYLOR SWIFT.” Peter shouted and everyone went silent.
“Never.” Tony whispered after a beat of silence and then looked around as if to find who said that.
“Sorry Peter.” You said. “Daddy, you may proceed with your apology.”
“Look Peter, I’ll admit that what I did was wrong and an overreaction. But I’m also not totally comfortable with you living here knowing you and my daughter are fadoodling.”
“But dad.” You whined and stamped your foot a little.
“She makes a good point there.” Sam said and pointed to you.
“Nope. Absolutely not. You are way too young to be living with your boyfriend.”
“But Mr. Stark.” Peter whined. “May already turned my room into her crafting center.”
“I don’t care. That’s my compromise. You can date my daughter but you cannot live under my roof.”
“What if I don’t date your daughter and continue living under your roof?” Peter asked, making everyone go silent.
“Okay. That was a hilarious joke but fine. Don’t laugh. I don’t even care.” Peter mumbled under his breath.
“Final offer. Take it or leave it, kid.” Tony said and held out his hand.
“What if Peter moves back in but we set a curfew for when we can be in each others room until?” You suggested.
“What if I move out because living here is constant drama and I find you all unbearable?” Sam asked with a smile.
“Fine.” Tony reluctantly agreed. “Peter can move back in but there will be a strict curfew enforced. And I better never find my daughters underwear in your Legos ever again.”
“I can promise you that.” Peter said and eagerly shook Tonys hand.
“So we’re good? Everybody forgives everybody?” You asked hopefully.
“I think so.” Tony said and patted Peters shoulder.
“Me too. And hey, maybe this curfew will prevent us from having another pregnancy scare. Remember how scary that was?” Peter joked to lighten the mood. Tony’s smile immediately crumbled as his grip on Peters shoulder tightened. The rest of the team cringed and braced themselves for Tony’s reaction.
“What did you just say?” Tony asked through clenched teeth.
“Oh my God.” You whispered. “Peter, run. Run fast before he kills you.”
Tag List 🏷️
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Daisy
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Pairing: Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x Fem Reader
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Description: Cooper Howard was not a kind man, he cared for nobody, but himself. Then he found you, a lost little dove, barefoot and crying, torn dress and big innocent eyes staring at him like he was a hero. He knew you’d be a burden, he knew you couldn’t survive in the wasteland, he was doing you a favor.
But he couldn’t pull the fucking trigger...
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[4k words]
🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼
Chapter 1 "The Savior"
Since the day you were born, there was something horribly wrong with you.
You had no immune system, your skin was paper-thin, you couldn’t exercise without collapsing, and every nerve in your body was in constant pain. There was no use for you aside from being a measly archive keeper and book transcriber. Your father was a weak man, despite your disabilities and how costly it was for the rest of your Vault, he kept you alive, consumed by the idea of finally finding a cure for his little girl.
Every single moment since your birth, you had spent in this squeaky clean, insanity-inducing, paper-ridden medical room. Everything was plagued by the stench of medicine and spirit, disinfected down to the core. The floor and walls and even the ceiling were covered in a leather cushioned layer to prevent any injuries, sparkling white, of course. Who needed color when the stench of new paint might cause you a migraine?
In honesty, you’d give away half of your miserable life just to see color outside of the packaged book covers stacked neatly on the floor. You built a makeshift city out of them, following the pictures drawn in an old magazine you’d read ages ago and kept hidden under your pillow. With time, you learned how to make paper flowers out of some stray files that nobody would miss. You had to find some solace, something to keep you from crying your delicate heart out every night because this was no way for anyone to live.
You weren’t just isolated from the world above, but from everything, only getting glimpses of the bright metal vault corridor and bustling dwellers whenever your father would open that wretched vacuum-sealed door to give you medicine. You knew people’s names and faces, everyone in your vault was memorized to the letter, but you’d never met them and probably never would.
You were never given your own Pip-boy, never assigned as a potential marriage candidate, and you’d never have children or any family once your parents passed away. A small part of you knew that you wouldn’t even outlive them, frail and genetically inferior as you were. You’d die within the next few years and you’d take the burden of your existence off the shoulders of everyone who worked tirelessly to find a solution to your illness.
You waited for that day with hope, dreaming of the end of the torture and solitude.
You had pleaded with your father that night with angry tears in your eyes to at least bring you coloring pencils or crayons or a radio to chat with the rest of the residents and make friends. But, as usual, he had refused gently while rocking you in his arms, cooing at you with a regretful tone and pain carving deep wrinkles in his features. Then he’d smiled at you, melting away your worry and frustration and misery, and he’d kissed your forehead tenderly. He still treated you like a little girl and to him, you’d always be one. He wiped your tears away and hope shone in his eyes, they looked exactly like yours, that was the only thing you’d taken from him. Everything else was a gift from your mother and you often looked in the mirror just to remember what she resembled.
She’d stopped visiting a long time ago, months, maybe even years, you weren’t sure. The passing of time was a fickle matter when you were caged in a cushioned prison every single day.
Your father hummed softly, lulling you while he gently tucked you into the nursing bed and secured the oxygen mask over your mouth. He was your angel, your only salvation, your only source of conversation and comfort and interaction and love. He adjusted the catheter back into your vein before fluffing up your pillow.
“This might be it, Sweetheart.” he whispered while watching you doze off slowly, his gaze held such affection for you. He placed a new IV bag to drain into your arm, one you’d not seen before, but you trusted him. This was nothing new. He came up with a new medicine recipe every month, without fail. “This might just be the cure. You’ll tell me how you feel tomorrow.”
You can only sigh and give your best smile, unable to share his enthusiasm after so many failed attempts. He rubbed a thumb over your sickly-colored cheek, his skin like sandpaper against yours, worn and calloused from spending a lifetime in the vault’s field.
“Have some faith in your old man.”
“I do, dad…I’m just so tired of this…”you bite into your tongue to keep more tears from spilling, and your bottom lip trembles despite your best efforts to tame it. Watching his face falter breaks your heart and you suck it up, push your tantrum down and pout instead. “And you’re not old.”
He laughs at your whiney remark, the first laugh he’d had in a long time, and he slicks back your hair, taking note that he needed to trim it soon before it got too long. Maybe when he had the energy, he’d sit down for more than a few minutes and braid it like he used to when you were just a child.
“I know you are, Baby girl, I know.” he shushes you with the utmost care and stands. “Just a little longer and you’ll be strong enough to help your pop pick out the tatoes. Get your pretty hands all dirty and then have a big plate of spam for a job well done.” he gazed at you, masking his sorrow and bitterness at the cruelty life had forced upon you. His hand hovered over the lamp switch and he glanced one last time at the brand-new IV bag slowly emptying in your bloodstream. “Night, Sweetheart. Love you.”
Too stricken with grief over your miserable lifestyle, you didn’t return his tender words, hoping he understood and knew that you loved him just as much if not more. When the lights went out, your eyelids closed, squeezing out a few lonely tears in the darkness before you begrudgingly drifted off to sleep. A dreamless slumber when you were gently rocked through the foggy confines of your subconsciousness.
Your one wish was to see the world outside, uncaring if it were a wasteland or a paradise, ignorant of the dangers and naïve towards the people who potentially lived up there. You just wanted to be free, even if it would cost you your life, you wanted to see the sky just once, wanted to prove to yourself that no, it looked better than any picture your father had shown you. You wanted to swim in the ocean and see fishes and see a whale, a creature so big it was unfathomable to imagine, you wanted to taste the salty sea water and become sick and just be happy to be alive for once. You wanted to feel the grass beneath your feet, to touch snow and dance in the rain until you slipped and fell in a puddle only to splash in it because you’d never seen or felt any nature.
You just wanted to live…
The hours ticked by in a hazy blur as you lay lifelessly on your bed. Your room was partly sound-proof, you heard nothing of the ruckus slowly brewing beyond your medicinal prison. Sleepy soundly, you didn’t hear the slaughter, the begging and pleading voice on the brink of crying before the sickening cracks of broken bones. You didn’t hear the crazed ramblings of the raiders stalking your fellow vault dwellers like it was a game of cat and mouse. Your vault was slowly succumbing to chaos and rampage and it was only when the electricity went out and your door unlatched that you were startled awake.
You bolt up with wide eyes and in a panic, gaze averting to the door and heart skipping a beat when you realize it’s open. With a small grunt and a relieved inhale once the oxygen mask is ripped from your face and tossed on your pillow, you scramble to stand. The IV is disconnected from your arm with an expert touch, replaced by a cotton ball to obscure any heavy bleeding from the open puncture wound. Your bare feet shuffle over the soft floor, slippery against the white leather because you’d unknowingly started to sweat from anticipation.
Was this just another cruel dream?
You walked to the exit with timid footsteps before opening the door wide enough to stick your head out. An incessant voice kept repeating how disappointed your father would be if he saw you sticking your nose out and potentially catching an infection from the unsterile air. That voice was dismissed promptly, this was your first chance at seeing anything beyond the medical room and you’d rather die than miss it.
Had the power gone out? But that was impossible. The power never went out, there had always been a steady flow of electricity for as long as you could remember.
The lights flickered, most were broken, letting the eerie darkness overwhelm all corridors except for one.
“Hello?” you call out hesitantly, shaky voice hoarse with sleep and anxiety both. Looking around, you couldn’t see much, there wasn’t a soul in sight and the silence was deafening. “Dad?”
Nothing. Nothing and no one.
A hand clutched at the door to support your buckling knees and you breathed deeply, encouraging yourself to be brave, that this was your chance. After dutifully gnawing on the inside of your cheek you stepped forth into the crossroads of corridors, letting go of the door and leaving everything familiar and safe behind. Your head whirled so much your neck popped multiple times as you frantically looked around in the scarce light and as terrifying as all of this was, it was also heaven unknown. You had never seen so many things – plant pots, plants, all bright green and juicy, you’d stuck your nail in a particular one only to feel a strange gooey discharge on your finger. It was a succulent, you’d read about those somewhere, very sturdy indeed, very pretty, but had no smell. You liked them already.
The further you went, the more a nagging thought kept creeping up your spine like a chill.
Where was everybody?
You kept looking, following the corridor and under the guidance of blinking lamps. You knew the Vault like the back of your hand after spending countless hours studying its diagrams, having nothing better to do. Now you were experiencing it in person. No longer needing to strain your imagination to picture every nook and cranny, you could see it with your own eyes. The floor was so cold under your feet, but you didn’t care, too high on adrenaline and pure joy to notice such a small inconvenience. A hand glided absentmindedly against the wall, tracing over pipes and posters and glass windows until you prickled your finger on a jagged edge and winced away.
You stuck the winger in your mouth with a pained scowl and glared up, searching for the source of your misfortune.
You froze.
Blood, everywhere, oozing down the wide hole in the window and silently gushing out of the disemboweled corpse of a human being, still warm. And even through the liters of blood and the sickening feeling of nausea that had your eyes dart to the floor, you immediately noticed the dark blue suit they were wearing. A dead vault dweller tossed through the window so hard they’d broken through and gotten impaled on the glass.
A vault dweller.
Dead…
DEAD!!!
You stumbled back and wretched, stuffing your mouth in the crook of your elbow and sputtering saliva as your stomach churned with bile. You bumped into a metal cabinet in your stupor, scraping for purchase as your legs lost all function, knocking over a clock and a radio that came to life as soon as it hit the floor. The sound echoed through the Vault, like a haunting melody to the arrival of a new victim, lured out and ready for slaughter. You.
Horror. A massacre, as the light flickered your eyes feasted on more marred flesh and ripped skin and so much blood. Crimson splatter and trails of handprints were strewn over the walls, the echoes of an dire struggle which ended in vein, trails of violence were etched into the hallway. You couldn’t hold it in anymore, you threw up, clutching at your stomach as you let out the traumatizing sight the only way your body knew how. Doubled over and twitching as the shock was replaced by such a raw feeling that you nearly lost your mind.
Corpses littered the floor beyond, caked in their own entrails, skulls bashed in, unrecognizable and still and…
“Hi there, Princess.”
A chill went up your spine as you realized that the frilly white dress you wore wasn’t enough to keep you warm beyond your room. Your skin littered with goosebumps, thin hairs standing up in fear as you stiffly craned your neck and looked back to the other end of the corridor. What little color was left in your face dissipated at the sight.
A man, disfigured and disgusting, with wild hair and wilder eyes and a grin that shook you to the bone stood there. He was shirtless, showing off a large hairy belly and covered in stick-poke tattoos, one of his legs was replaced by what you made out was a metal stick of sorts. He was three times your size…and he looked at you with such perverse intent that you nearly screamed. A vile creature, not even human anymore.
“Don’t be scared, Pretty.” he leered, chapped lips and rotting teeth and a foul blackened tongue, and raised a large palm in front of him to halt you from moving. “It’s okay…Come here. Come to me.”
Instinct took over and you automatically stepped back, not daring to take your eyes off him.
“Ah, don’t do that now.” he warned sweetly and slowly began walking towards you, creeping closer every time the lights flickered off. “You’ll just make this harder for you, yeah? Come to Eddie, Sweetheart. I’ll take care of you.”
Everything about him screamed evil. He looked deranged and capable of things you’d never even begin to imagine.
A surface dweller. A survivor. A killer. A monster.
The moment his boot sunk in a pool of blood and squeaked against the floor realization hit you like a speeding truck. The grim expression should have been his sign to catch you, but you were already leaping over corpses with a blood-curdling screech. Your mind raced as you tried to orientate yourself through the corridors, bolting over shattered glass and spoiled food and so many dead bodies.
You needed to get out. Leave. Escape.
OUT!
His hollars bellowed behind you, alerting the rest of his friends because of course there were more and now they were aware of you and hunting you down like a deer in the forest. You let the tears run down your cheeks, forced the questions of your parents’ whereabouts and health because you already knew the answers, but you let them sink you’d end up like them or worse.
A horde of footsteps nipped at your bare heels and you sprinted and begged your weak little legs to go faster. Sucking in air as adrenaline pumped through your veins like poison, you jumped and ducked and whirled and assured yourself that you had the upper hand here, you knew the vault better than them. You stood a chance, you’d survive.
When the elevator came into view after you rounded a corner you nearly cried out in delirium. A roar nearly deafened you and you flinched, but your pace only increased as you pleaded and struggled not to trip over your feet. They were desperate, clawing at the air to try and reach you before it was too late. Your lungs burned with strain, your muscles felt like they’d tear any moment, but you kept pushing, high on horror and anger and a newfound zest for self-preservation
Salvation. Your only chance to live.
Your shoulder screamed in pain when you slammed against the metal walls of the elevator and thrusted your fist against the button vigorously.
“Come on. Come on. COME ON!”
“Get back here you little whore!”
“Please!” you wailed, screaming and stumbling back when a rusty axe collided with the shutting doors and made sparks fly with an ear-piercing screech. A hand flew up to cover your squinted eyes, sneering and sobbing as the raiders banged on the outside of the elevator and shot conniving curses at your crumbling form. You were slammed down on your arse by gravity as the elevator finally moved, taking you away from certain death as a slew of grim promises were expelled at you from below.
They’d find you, rip you apart, and make you wish you’d just died like the rest of your pathetic vault dwellers. You balled your eyes out, choking on spit and tears and gulping down air as your body shook violently. Clutching at your face, you stared down at your bloody feet with wide, unblinking eyes.
What was this nightmare…
When the elevator came to a halt and the doors reopened you barely managed to stand, the numbness in your limbs proving too much to handle and your upset stomach only contributing. But you had to keep moving, you had to run.
“Daddy…”
With ugly sobs and meek noises of strain and discomfort and utter distaste for your cruel fate, you tumbled towards the ajar vault entrance. Pressing down the button timidly before taking the discarded Pip-boy from the severed hand, you lock your tormentors into their grave and hurriedly tread towards the slowly closing vault exit.
The sun nearly blinds you and the hot desert sun knocks you to your knees as your hands sink to the wrists in sand. You gasp, squeezing your eyes shut before blinking rapidly and shielding your sensitive pupils from the blaring light.
It’s…barren.
A desert, stretching as far as your sight could reach, heated enough for the air to wiggle and dance in the distance, a decrepit city can be seen nestled not too far. A plethora of buildings crumbled to their bases hide away the sealed entrance to your vault, bones are scattered through the coarse sand, human shapes frozen in time, hinting towards a previous era of life on Earth, an era you’d only read about. Again, there wasn’t a soul around no matter how many times you circled your vision.
A wasteland. Painted yellow and orange and contrasting so beautifully with the clear blue sky.
You wanted to marvel and swoon and you would have given any other circumstance, but now, after everything you’d seen, after your mind had been so brutally defiled with images of slaughter, you were incapable. You stood, resisting the harsh breeze and angry sun, clad in nothing but a Pip-boy and a thin summer dress that was everything but white.
You had to walk, seek help, do…something. Anything.
And so you did. Trudging through the sea of sand and stepping hastily as the heat beneath your delicate feet nipped uncomfortably at your skin. Sweat clung to you like a protective layer, washing away any trace of the sensitive lavender shampoo you had used the previous night. Strands of hair clung to your flushed face as you fought a silent and unfair battle against the burning sunrays, one step at a time, with the wind as your only companion. Your nostrils struggled to breathe in enough air, but you didn’t dare open your mouth despite the temptation, fearing dehydration and death as it loomed over you like a shadow.
You walked for what felt like miles, accompanied by your thoughts and nothing else, until the Vault was hidden behind the golden dunes and your feet felt raw. The city was so close now, yet you were so tired, sucked dry by a heat you’d never experienced before, if it hadn’t been for your Pip-boy crackling to life you would have collapsed, too burdened and weak to continue.
You raised your wrist and looked down and were met by a familiar meter.
Radiation.
Something around you was radioactive enough for the device to pick up easily, but there was nothing but waves of yellow hell and you doubted the ground itself was emitting it. Then you heard it. That strange, high-pitched chirping, an alien sound that made your skin crawl and scraped at the back of your head tauntingly.
A scream loud enough to shatter glass ripped through your throat as a sharp sting pierced your ankle. You hit the soft sand with a whimper and rushed to turn on your back before kicking blindly at your assaultant. An ambush from below. Blood trickled from the gash, painting your skin a deep ruby red and spilling over the ground, luring out your predators like moths to a flame.
Insects, roaches too big to be real and too much for your fickle mind to comprehend crawled out of the sand. You’d fallen right into their trap, an unsuspecting victim, a banquet they’d probably not seen since they’d hatched.
Your heart pounded frantically, pulse thumping in the side of your neck as you flailed and screeched, chucking sand at them as they circled you. You wanted to run, every cell in your body fought for you to stand, but you couldn’t, you had no fight left. You’d die here, alone in this decrepit desert and eaten by giant cockroaches and this was going to be the story of your life. You sobbed so pitifully, so angry and bitter and bratty that after everything, this was to be your end. The world spun painfully fast and you wanted to vomit, but your stomach was empty and you only gagged.
With one last scream, you curled in a ball, covering your head with your arms and your legs protecting your belly, as one of the insects lunged forward.
When the gunshot rang in your ears you froze in place and time stopped. The roach flew back, slimy green entrails covering your form like a canvas. The other two hissed and you revolted at the noise, but they were shot a second later, blown to bits, dainty skittish legs twitching as the last few beats of life escaped them. The shadow of your savior dwarfed you completely, giving you respite from the cruel sun.
You roll over and sit up on your knees within a blink only to be met with the barrel of a gun too ratchet and rusted to belong to anyone but a wastelander. You recoil and blink through tear-heavy lashes before roughly adjusting your dress to try and cover your bare thighs from what you presumed was another man. The tip of the gun slid under your chin and guided your eyes up to feast upon your hero. You gulped and whimpered.
He was grotesque, like a man skinned alive and somehow survived, melted skin deformed his features and you’d bet your dinner there wasn’t a strand of hair under that worn cowboy hat. He had no nose, no eyebrows or even lashes, not a spec of hair. He grinned something awful down at you, looking at you like you were a fresh piece of meat, a delicacy among a table covered with rotten food. His stance was wide, torn dark cloth swaying dangerously in the breeze, he seemed almost aetherial in his own twisted and rugged way. You mewled softly as he turned your head from side to side with his gun, gently, mockingly, drinking you in from every angle as if you’d disappear if he so much as blinked.
Your hands clutched at the edge of your dress when he finally spoke and his voice made you inhale sharply and clench your jaw in anticipation.
“Well…Aren’t you a pretty little thing…”
(Listen, it's 7AM and I need sleep, but this mother trucker didn't want to leave me alone so have a chapter from my hastily strewn-together upcoming story. I'll post it on AO3 and probably here if it even happens. I'll fix mistakes later, don't eat me please.)
Chapter 2 >>>
🌼 Daisy Masterlist 🌼
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scarletlizzard · 4 months
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Part 1: Get Help
Sessions Series
Pairing: psychiatrist Wanda x female reader
Tags Minors DNI: being stalked, paranoia, therapy, mentions of sex
Masterlist
Fall 2018
It was the same thing every day.
You wake up, make breakfast, and go for a run. You go to work, a normal 9-5 job downtown. After work, you would wind down by making dinner and sometimes taking a bath with a glass of wine. You go to bed around the same time every night, letting the sounds of I Love Lucy lull you to sleep.
Your routine was all but normal, though. You had a shadow.
Your daily jog was filled with turning your head, constantly aware of a presence behind you, one that you could never see. You thought it was over until one night when you were making dinner, you happened to look out the window and saw a person standing across the street. The glass of wine you were holding dropped from your hand onto the floor beneath your feet. You step back onto the glass and wince, tearing your eyes from the shapeless figure.
When you look up again, they've disappeared.
This happened for weeks until you finally gave in and told your friend one night over a bottle of wine.
"Look, this is them. They're back," you say, handing the phone to Natasha. She raises an eyebrow and looks at the blurry picture on the screen. Practically a black dot next to the bus stop a few houses down from yours.
"But why would they wait so long? It's been over a year, and.." she squints, staring at the picture. "That kind of just looks like a blob.." the woman says and sips her wine, a concerned look on her face at your frantic state.
"It's not. It's them! I-I swear I'm being followed, being watched... every where I go, it's like, I can feel them. The police won't do anything about it." You move your shaking hand away from her to gulp down the rest of your wine.
"Look, Y/N.." Natasha sighs and sets down her glass, turning her body to face yours. "I know you've been through a lot, everything that.. happened last summer. I think - maybe you should.. get some help." She tries to soften the blow of calling you crazy by resting a hand on your thigh. You only look to her with betrayed eyes.
"I'm not crazy," you speak calmly, your tone stern, but the crack in your voice only solidifies Natashas' point.
"I don't think you are, Y/N. Here.." She grabs her purse, pulling out a business card from it casually, as if she just happened to have it. You knew her better than that. "This is my friend. She's an amazing psychiatrist. Just talk to her, give it a chance."
You snatch the card away from her hands, not making eye contact with her. Natasha sighs again and stands, watching your leg bounce harder. She leans down to kiss your forehead.
"I'll call you tomorrow. I love you.." She trails off, unsure if you'd even reply.
"Love you." You mumble, pouring yourself another glass.
After she leaves, you stare at the business card in your hand, eyes settled on the name in bold lettering. You crumple the card, ball it up in your hand, and throw it across the room. It bounces off the wall with a small 'thunk'. Then you're left sitting, recalling the events of last summer.
***
Summer 2017
It was an exceptionally hot night. The air conditioner had been broke all day, leaving you sweating and fanning yourself with a magazine. Also leaving you with no choice but to leave the windows open, letting a cooler breeze flow through your quiet house.
You shot a quick text to Natasha- See you tomorrow, meet at the coffee shop near yours.
With a sigh, you rest your head on the back of the couch, listening to the voices on the TV. You get a strange feeling suddenly, your whole body covered in goosebumps, the small hairs on your arms standing straight up. You slowly open your eyes, staring straight ahead at the characters running around the screen.
"Get a grip, Y/N.." You mumble to yourself, patting your cheeks as if to wake yourself up. Maybe you just needed some sleep. Your anxiety seemed to be kicking up again. Your hands reach for the remote on the table in front of you, and you press the power button, turning the TV off.
It's then you see, in the black screen, reflecting an image not only of you but a person standing directly behind you.
***
Current Fall 2018
No, I'm NOT doing this right now.
You think to yourself, swallowing down your third glass of wine for the night. Instead, you get up to double -no, triple- check all of the locks in your house. The windows to the backyard, locked. The sliding glass backdoor, locked. The windows to the front of the house, locked. The front door, locked. The side door leading to the garage, locked. Windows in any bedrooms, locked. Your bedroom door and window, locked.
It was exhausting, but it was a routine you had been following for the past year. It kept you safe. You turn on I Love Lucy, drifting off into another nightmare with your mysterious shadow.
The morning after, you awake to your alarm and slap your hand on your loud phone to slide it off. You lay there for a moment, staring at the ceiling. The morning sun shines brightly in the room, the light warm on your skin.
I am NOT crazy...
You repeat to yourself over and over, a mantra easily spoken and believed in your mind. Breakfast was made and eaten, running shoes tied to your feet, laces double knotted, ID and cash in case of emergencies, and headphones settle snug in your ears. The first mile was fine, humming along to your music, and enjoying the cold fall. It was when you were heading back towards your house that you began to have that unsettling feeling.
Your panicked eyes look around as you jog, your head constantly turning from side to side as you look for your shadow. You find yourself reaching into your pocket, letting your hand grab onto the pepper spray you had brought with you. Only a little ways to go. It's fine.
Your pace sped up, but your shadow was creeping up closer to you. Your heart was racing. Sweat was dripping down your forehead. With your thumb gripping the spray, you suddenly turn around, spraying the shadow behind you.
"Ahhh! What the fuck!" A man screams, falling to his knees in front of you. Your heart was beating out of your chest at the sight of him, rubbing his eyes and screaming in pain. But on the sidewalk in front of him you see your emergency clip that held your cash and ID.
"Jason! Oh my god, what did you do to him?" A woman comes running up to his side, sliding her arm around him. "Are you crazy? You dropped this. He was trying to give it back to you!" She screams at you, throwing the clip in your direction. Dollar bills fly to the ground, and you back up.
"I-I'm sorry! I didn't know, I thought he was - I didn't know.." Your voice trails off as you shake your head, hands shaking. "I didn't know.." You repeat it 4 times.
"Y/N, you're lucky he didn't press charges, I can't believe you actually pepper sprayed him.." Natashas voice sounded from the phone in your hand as you recall the events from the morning.
"I know, I can't believe I did either. I feel so fucking bad about it.." you hold your head in your hand, guilt filling your gut.
"It happened. There's nothing you can do about it now. He'll be fine.. people get pepper sprayed all the time," she tries to joke, attempting to lighten the mood.
You sit up and sigh into the phone, looking around the room. The TV playing, the dusty art supplies sitting on a desk in the corner. Your eyes find and focus on the crumpled business card on the floor by the wall. As you stand, your feet carry you over, picking it up.
"I'll talk to you later, Nat," you say, letting her say goodbye before you hang up. Your hands straighten out the card, and you once again read the name in bold lettering.
The clock on the wall read 5:28 as you sat, one day after work, on a chair in the hallway near the front door. You look around the hallway that leads to a massive house. It seemed the front was used for her practice, a room on either side of the hallway. One you assumed an office, the other a room to meet with patients. The clock ticked to 5:29, and your leg began to bounce.
The door on the wall across from you opens, revealing a brown headed woman with a warm smile on her face. She was taller, a creme colored blouse and brown pants settled on her legs. Her familiar green eyes find yours, and you both let out a small, awkward chuckle.
"Y/N.." Wanda says and holds out her hand to you, watching as you stand in front of her.
Your hand reaches for hers, "Wanda.." Her hand is warm and soft in yours. You know you linger too long in her grip. She leads you into room number two, a medium-sized room with one big, comfortable looking chair and an even more comfortable looking couch. Behind her comfy chair was an extravagant looking fireplace. Bookshelves lined the walls, and as you walked inside, your fingers trail the spines of the books that sat on them. It felt comfortable and safe. The sun was beginning to set, and an orange glow filled the room. Wanda sits in a chair, a notepad, and pen in her lap. You follow suit, sitting across from her on the couch.
"So, are you sure you want to do this? I'd be more than happy to recommend you to some other, highly recommended, co-workers of mine?" Wanda says with a smile, and you can't help but blush. She just had that effect on you.
"As long as you're okay with it, I am. I trust you, and right now, I really need that.." You mumble the last part, sitting back into the couch. Wanda nods, understanding of you.
One of the last times you saw Wanda she was in your bed, giving you what still stands today, the best orgasms of your life. Natasha had thrown a Christmas party where you met. You and Wanda came alone. You both had a lot to drink, and one thing led to another. You spent the night talking and laughing, getting to know each other as you came on her fingers. After that, you saw her from time to time, over a couple of months. She let you eat her out on your couch and fucked you against the counter in your kitchen. It was the best sex you'll probably ever have. You felt more alive with her than you had in years.
But then you had to leave town for work, and by the time you came back, the two of you had lost touch. Then, a few months after, during the summer, when your shadow appeared, you cut practically everyone out of your life.
"Well then, let's get started," Wanda interrupts your train of thoughts with a click of her pen, crossing her legs. "I reviewed the file you sent over from your stay at the Bay Point Medical Center. Do you want to talk about that?" She asks, her voice as smooth as honey.
You let out a shaky sigh, playing with the zipper of the bag you held in your lap. "I've always been.. anxious, since I was a kid. Always had these uh, routines. Tie my shoes until they felt right, flick the lights 4 times before bed."
"Were you ever diagnosed or tested as a kid?"
"No, my mom didn't believe in that sort of thing."
"So you were first diagnosed with OCD and Bipolar Disorder at Bay Point." Wanda makes a note. You tap your leg 4 times.
"Yes."
"So what led you to that moment, to that night?" Her voice is so inviting. You would tell her just about anything at this point.
"I'm sure it says in the file.." You clear your throat, suddenly being unable to look her in the eyes.
"There is a version, but I'd like to hear yours." Her eyebrows raise, pen hovering over the paper of the pad.
"It was a few days after I saw my shadow," you start, Wanda has a curious look on her face.
A pause.
"Your shadow?" She asks, you nod.
"The stalker, person watching me." You reply, she nods for you to continue. "I hadn't slept in days. The police didn't believe me. There was no evidence, they said, that anyone besides me had been in the house that night. So I went to the docks, and I-I bought a gun from some junkie. I'm not proud of what I did," you say, meeting her comforting gaze.
"I'm sure. You hadn't slept in days. You were delusional - sleep deprived. No medication, no diagnosis. Under extreme stress. Given the circumstances, I'm glad no one was hurt." Wanda concurs.
"Well, maybe not physically. But when you wave a gun around at 3 in the morning down the street, maybe a little psychological damage to the family that found me," you groan and put your head in your hands.
"The report said you had left a note at your house. What did it say?" Wanda asks, and you think back to when you scribbled on a piece of paper, what you thought would be, your last words. You're quiet for a moment. Wanda can tell you won't answer that question just yet.
"How about, who did you leave it for?" She asks.
"For my shadow."
The rest of the session you had spilled about your feelings that night and talked about you OCD and Bipolar disorder. You told her about your stay at the mental hospital, and told her about your routines. You spoke to her of almost everything.
"I think this session was really productive, Y/N. You've been very open with me, and I appreciate that." Wanda stood at the front door, smiling down to you. It was dark now, the sun at set completely. "I'll see you at the same time, Thursday?"
You nod and smile back at her. "I'll see you then." You walk to your car, feeling lighter. But you also can't ignore the hair on the back of your neck rising as you drive away.
***
Summer 2017
You scream loudly as you turn to see a figure behind you. A shadow, dressed in all black. A white faceless mask covered their true face. They stand still as you back away, slowly tilting their head to the side.
"Run." A menacing whisper, a familiar tone.
You run.
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undercoverpena · 5 months
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Just read your Soft!Frankie. How do you think Joel would be? I love your work. Thanks.
omg anon, okay, so I did quickly converse with my pal, @swiftispunk to clarify my thoughts. but here goes (hope this is okay)—for this you’re ill/have a cold.
soft!joel miller x reader (pre-outbreak)
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the house is quiet. the sound of the pipes coming to life groaning in the walls is the first thing which stirs you.
your head is still full, heavy, as your eyes flutter open. then, you’re aware of how your throat still burns, worse than yesterday. more or less like you’d swallowed glass.
the rest follows suit, the sniff returning, the ache in your cheeks. the cold not improving but rather worsening overnight. it proves your point when you move, dizziness adding itself to your list of ailments—blurring your vision, making you even more thankful for declining the overtime, happy to be home and not behind a desk.
you reach out, greeted by cool sheets as the fan on the dresser groans as it performs another rotation.
and you don’t want to rise, but you also do. you want to see him, curl into him. but, you take your time in rising, all slow in your movements, using the bathroom and dressing in nothing but him when you’re done. you hope he won’t mind, maybe even like it as you pull on some of his sweats, grabbing a pair of his work-boot socks before heading downstairs.
he only murmurs your name softly at the sight of you—likely spotting your glassy eyes, and puffy cheeks from the cold making a home in you. you look at him, watching his lips tug up into one cheek when he spots the clothing, brows furrowing before they flatten, and you step closer, palm flat to his cheek as you wipe the crumbs.
and it’s soft, tender. him kissing your wrist before he mumbles about making you a drink. something warm. even adding honey—sarah’s orders before tommy took her to soccer practice. and you smile, hovering, shifting from side to side before he motions for you to get comfy under a blanket, keep warm, grunting: y’shouldn’t even be up.
your feet shuffle into the next room, seating yourself in your usual spot, tugging the blanket up and over—glancing at the coffee table, the magazine you’d grabbed Sarah and the array of coins from Joel emptying his pocket last night, all upon letters and papers—a mess, but a welcomed one. it’s home, a place you’d trade everything to be in.
when he joins you he’s clutching a mug, steam swirling up from it as he briefly places it down, a thud in the quiet before he settles down next to you. you watch as he wipes his hand on his jeans, before he places the back of his hand to your forehead. eyes narrowed, knitted in concern—
“still burnin’ up.”
you know. the sweat peppering your spine tells you as much, but you just lean into him. resting your head, finding no protest, only him moving to get more comfortable as he picks up and rests the mug on his knee—occasionally handing it to you, telling you to take a sip f’me.
and you do.
because it’s simple, easy. both the act and this thing with him. a thing he wasn’t sure he could give you if you remember correctly, yet he does it without trying.
“don’t fall asleep on me.”
he says it, even knowing you will. your head nodding, a sniff punctuating it, and the deep sigh you hear echo through him tells you he knows you’re minutes from doing so—and you’re sure he doesn’t care. most likely even likes it.
your eyes growing heavy, the television sounds slowly lowering in volume as your illness tries to beckon you to sleep. your legs come up, curling more so into him and the couch. feeling his arm move, just ever so slightly come around you, the mug going, finding a home on the table.
it’s only in the place between sleep and awake do you feel it, the slight touch of his fingers on yours. brushing over the tips, calloused palm flattening over your fingertips, trying to remove the chill from them.
and you smile, ever so slightly—and then you sniff before you briefly catch the scent of him. the last thing you needed to be lulled back to sleep.
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