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asimmutableasgravity · 6 months

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big big marvey fic rec list

marvey is currently my most bookmarked ship, so trust me when i say i've been around the bend for marvey content. i have dug through a lot of it the past few months, so trust that these fics have been highly rated!

fics are loosely grouped, with the summary and my thoughts under the cut :3 no spoilers ofc bc i love you

MY PERSONAL FAVOURITES

A Specter-Ross Affair by @frivoloussuits (15k+, au)

“You ordered an ‘extra-hot, extra-wet cappuccino, single-origin, properly layered, to-go and ready five minutes ago to make up for your service speed or lack thereof.’” In which Mike is a barista, Rachel is a lawyer, and Harvey is paid excessive amounts of money to plan their joyous Christmas wedding.

"Love is just a particularly socially accepted form of fraud. It's a series of increasingly complex and fragile deceptions between two or more people, and, more alarmingly, between each participant and their own deluded subconscious."

i literally cannot recommend this fic enough. this might be my favourite read of the entire year, dead serious. this sounds fluffy but trust me, the pining and the angst go well like salt on a chocolate chip cookie: extremely decadent. everything about this fic goes insane and this should be your gateway drug into marvey, im so serious about this. READ IT. (weddingplanner!harvey)

of all the gin joints by @frivoloussuits (10k+, au)

Hanging around a neighborhood bar one night, Harvey befriends a guy named Mike after realizing they can both quote The Princess Bride on demand. In the law offices of Rand, Kaldor, Zane and Pearson, senior partner Harvey Specter takes on an unusual case, representing his managing partner's daughter as she divorces a Michael James Ross. Harvey sees no connection until it's far too late.

"They’re playing a virtuosic duet with inhuman ease, as if the intoxication has broken their boundaries and blurred them into a single entity."

this. obsessed with fics that really use the law in their plots, and this is a prime example. a lot of chemistry in this one that is described in a way that makes you jealous of the bond they share and there are still lines in this fic that i think about almost everyday but honestly, such a top-tier read. PLEASE PLEASE IF YOU LIKE SUFFERING ANF REALLY REALLY GOOD CHEMISTRY PLEASE

5U175 by Closer (26k, canon-adjacent)

Harvey sometimes moonlights as a Star Trek BNF. Mike might have an attitude problem on the internet. TiberiusGhost is strangely compelling, for a recluse who never goes to meetups, and Harvey's finding this kid Photohead vaguely familiar…

i know that the terminology in this one is hella old-school but trust me. as someone who doesnt read a lot of fandom fics, this fic has changed it all for me (also bc the author replied to my comment hehehe) stick with this fic because the way fandom weaves with the character development is absolutely delicious, i remember saying this in my og comment but this fic was written with love for fandom and you should definitely read it too!!! you'd absolutely love it! (also ben stans rise up ^^)

fics to sink your teeth into (20k+)

needs must by @melthemagpie (98k+, au)

When Grammy needs an upgrade in care, Mike knows that the usual one-off gig as a paid submissive won't be enough. He takes a job he's been refusing for a while - a long-term, full-time contract. He expects his client to be a sadistic asshole. He expects not to like it. He's wrong on both counts.

this is a fandom classic, every fic rec has this on the list (cw for dom/sub and prostitution, so if you're uncomfy please dont read) but i swear there are so many romantic moments in this one that make me swoon and the smut is very good, i usually tap out in long fics really quickly but this hooked me the whole way through twice. thats my ringing endorsement, READ THIS

Lobster and Other Catastrophes by @andthetardis (21k, canon-compliant)

After months of silence, Mike starts texting Harvey again out of the blue. Funny thing to do on his honeymoon, really.

BRO PLEASE. this was so good. angsty and pining-y enough even though it's mostly a text fic. text fics to me are more like comedic, but this one had substance and heart (and funny and enjoyable btw). pulls you in and really makes you want to stick it out and get to the beautiful ending <333 (harvey being soft is probably a category on its own :3)

The Game by @frivoloussuits (27k, hunger games au)

Harvey Specter and Donna Paulsen are efficient and elegant killers. They have trained since childhood, mentored personally by Jessica Pearson and marked for years as District 1's Tributes for the Hunger Games. Mike Ross is an orphan from District 12, a drug dealer, and an underage gambler. After years of scrutinizing the Hunger Games on TV to make savvy bets, he finds himself on the wrong side of the camera, now playing the odds just to survive. Harvey and Mike cannot, should not trust each other. Still, they strike a backroom deal.

"Because he’s clever and quick-thinking and he’s learned her main lesson well– don’t love anyone you wouldn’t be willing to see dead. Ideally, don’t love anyone at all."

I READ THIS WHEN I WAS REVISITING HUNGER GAMES AND OHHHHH THIS HAS THE ANGST. absolutely riveting. ths is the third fic im reccing from them bc i love frivoloussuits. i would die for them HHFSHFHKSDGDHFG i love the angst and the life-threatening situations that the hunger games provide and harvey as a career is correct. its just correct. everything here grips my soul

Disaster Stories by agatestones (22k, canon-compliant)

"Hold on," Mike asked, "you made Donna come into work in the middle of a blizzard?" "I don't make Donna do anything. Haven't you learned by now?" Harvey gave Mike a mean little smile, but under that was relief for anyone to see. "You, I can make come into the office in a blizzard."

reads like a novella to me, and it's really good!!! very episodic and you really feel like these are things that have happened in universe. its very slice of lifey and i reread it a lot as a comfort read, its like a big hug to me

Pizza and a Movie by Closer (30k+, au)

In an alternate universe, Harvey's still a lawyer but Mike's not a pot runner -- he's a deliveryman for Rollo's Pizza and Ribs, which happens to be Harvey's favorite pizza place. Once Harvey finds out his pizza guy is a genius, Mike's life takes a few turns he would not have expected...

i swear this is the most rom-commy fic marvey has to offer. i like aus that slap me in the face more with the alternate universe, but this is such a rom-com plot. fandom classic as well and it really reads like a hugh grant 90s movie and if thats not enough to pull you in idk what will tbh

Imprimatur by Closer (22k, au)

Mike was raised to believe Imprint was a life-changing event for those few lucky enough to experience it. Harvey was raised to believe it was a form of mental illness. When it actually happened, neither of them noticed.

this goes absolutely crazy. one of those fics where you read it and you almost want to throw your phone at the wall because the characters could make it so easy if they werent so stupid (but in a good way of course) but the way it was written, you feel the depth of the soulmate bond and why its so important (which a lot of soulmate aus forget to do loll) but goes down like an expensive and delicious dinner :)

afternoon reads (10k+)

Sony SRF-39FP by @frivoloussuits (11k+, canon-adjacent)

Anita Gibbs won’t settle for Mike, not when there are name partners within her reach. She offers only one deal– two years, no other charges against anyone else in the firm, as long as Harvey Specter turns himself in. And even as Donna and Jessica and Louis and Mike beg him not to, he jumps on the grenade. “Time to get busy living or get busy dying,” he remarks, and Mike gives a small chuckle. Then Harvey smirks, straightens his suit jacket, and strides into FCI Danbury.

“I can’t believe they’re trying to lock you in a box and forget about you,” Mike sighs as he leaves.

“Well, as long as you don’t forget me, I figure I’ll survive.”

“Maybe you haven’t noticed, but forgetting’s never been my strong suit.

cw for depersonalization and desc of solitary confinement, very very heavy but the way mike is there throughout everything makes my heart twinge. i really dont know how to describe this fic at all but its really good. it makes me cry a lot. also made me start listening to jazz which- uh

Here at the end of all things by @tattooedsiren (10k, au)

When he arrives at the Pearson Hardman building the lights are dimmed and the floor is deserted. His feet carry him to Harvey's office even though he expects it to be empty. Because Harvey probably fled the city via helicopter or teleporter or sheer force of will. But when he approaches the office he can see that Harvey is there. He has moved the couch so that it now faces the floor to ceiling windows and Mike silently sits beside Harvey, joins him in looking down at the chaos engulfing the city below. [Apocalypse AU]

I LOVE APOCALYPSE FICS UP UP UP badass!harvey makes me bark, but im a really big fan of people who find happiness in the worst circumstances and this fic does it so so so well. reminds me a lot of tlou episode like 2? the one with the strawberries. please this is what i revisit when i miss marvey and i dont have a lot of time because the world and the characters are jsut so delicious!!!

quick reads (1k+)

This Love is Silent by kim47 (8k, canon-compliant)

She should have known. She had known, that something was off, at least. She knew he was hiding something. She just never imagined it could be this. Despite Harvey's warnings, Mike tells Rachel the truth about everything. She's shocked, naturally, and more than a little angry, but she agrees to keep his secret, and even to date him. So when they break up, Harvey goes into damage-control mode.

RACHEL!! HELLO RACHEL!! im always up for smart and discerning rachel (this shows up in of all the gin joints too btw!!!) this runs realistic to me because it shows that rachelxmike arent some hopelessly wrong for each other couple, they have good and bad times. this feels more real to me than other fics bc its not like the world conspires for marvey to be apart, its just life. i know this makes it sound so sad, and it is, but trust me: this is really really really good i love this so much

an archive of harvey specter's expressions by @frivoloussuits (2k, canon-compliant)

Five old expressions that Mike rediscovers in new contexts once he and Harvey are (finally) together, and one that he sees for the first time. Alternatively titled “An Ode to Gabriel Macht’s Face.”

this was written for me. this is literally me. writing fic because gabriel macht is too pretty, like this fic is literally for me. a lot of peering at him to get this fic as masterfully written as it is, and i thank you author everyday for it. to me, this reads like it's been written with love and care and true adoration (Truly, like Mike)

Coffee-Cart Client Privilege by @frivoloussuits (7k, au)

Mike runs a coffee cart. The coffee cart.

"Why not? They're too big and dense to be a snack." So are you, Mike thinks, and yet.

IM SORRY I KEEP RECCING FRIVOLOUS SUITS THEYRE MY FAVOURITE WRITER IN THIS FANDOM HFBKABFDKHFBHKDSA this has the hand-wavy logic the show has itself but mike's internal monologue in this one is one of the best ive ever read and the way mike's integrated in the offices is just so well-done ahhhh

Objection by yeah its frivoloussuits again i feel bad tagging them like 7 times (2k, canon-adjacent)

When Mike announces he’s leaving, Harvey plans to hide the jagged pieces of his broken heart deep inside, where no one will ever find them. His heart would like to object.

BIGG fan of physical hurt/comfort!!!! also big fan of people absolutely freaking out in the hospital in fics, it makes me bounce of the wall!! very short but the angst and love really hits you quick and leaves you on the floor gasping for air. very good (also cant prove this but im very sure this is a scrubs reference.t hanks)

Excerpts From The Gospel of Harvey Specter, edited by Michael "Forever Awesome" Ross, 2011, 1st Ed, by @rcmclachlan (7k, canon compliant)

Mike can totally read people. Well, most people. Some people. Or maybe just Harvey, who's pretty much an open book.

this one's really funny! it doesent follow direct prose and instead plays a lot with the setting its in (where mike's a documenter of harvey) and its just so funny and adorable. has a lot of heart too, it isn't just crack or anything but you really feel everything mike does as he writes all this, read this!!1

One More Sleepless Night by @sal_si_puedes (9k, au)

Soul Bonds are one-sided – there’s usually mutual affection, but only one party feels the crippling need to be together as often as possible. If separated at length from their love, that party becomes crushed by longing, panic, and sheer hopelessness, and so it is illegal to forcibly keep Soulmates apart. Some days, Harvey Specter hates the Bond that skews his judgement and weakens his resolve, and he fears what would happen if anyone in his world ever discovers he is so compromised. He certainly never planned to disclose the Bond for the first time in the middle of Anita Gibbs’ office, in a last-ditch attempt to invalidate the deal sending Mike to prison.

HSDGFHSDKGHRLKGHK THIS FIC. i love fics that use more than just prose to tell their stories (see above fic) and this does my favourite thing that soulmate aus do, which is where they integrate in-universe explanations for the phenomenon. the amount of work and dedication put into this fic makes it absolutely sing and was absolutely lovely!!

also pspspsps

golden like the daffodils by @mini-mart (2k, canon-compliant)

Poetry holds meaning, for anyone who reads it. It obscures and dances around the literal and metaphorical, because it’s imbued with so much of something that it overflows out of any definition. It can make someone mad, or lovesick, or aroused, and the reactions would be absolutely warranted. Mike is poetry, to Harvey. - Harvey Specter could be a good politician, as he believes in pragmatism over poetry. He won't let his progress fall apart, won't let someone knock it down. And then someone unceremoniously cracks open a suitcase at his feet. Or: Harvey, pretty boys and poetry.

yeah yeah i wrote this yeah yeah self promo smth smth

there's a lot more that isn't here but i'll probably write a new one when i go for a deep dive through the ship tags again :3

^^ ao3 etiqutte applies! if you like the fic, kudos and comment and bookmark!! show your love! happy reading marveys! my gift to u :3

#marvey #suits tv #suits #mike ross #harvey specter #marvey fic recs #marvey fic #ao3 #fic rec list #fic recs #tbr #fanfiction #103 #GUYS PLEASE READ THIS #mikexharvey

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gamingcreatures · 1 year

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Ah, good to see you. Apologies mate, but I don’t have much to report. I can see bloody Nokron, right above me, but I’m absolutely stumped. I’ve tried all the gateways, to no avail… Perhaps it’s time to ask Seluvis?

Blaidd the Half-Wolf | ELDEN RING

#elden ring #blaidd the half wolf #eldenringedit #gamingedit #dailygaming #gamingnetwork #*by gamingcreatures #*by destiny #userwolfkissed #radioactive-synth #userbrujah #mikaeled #miyku #userliliana #userlucid #userarklay #necroticpetals #lxdymaria

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reputationmunson · 1 year

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Crossing Lines | S.H x fem!reader

part one | part two | part 3 | part 4

series summary: Steve isn’t your biggest fan, so why does he ask you to be his date to a wedding? | enemies to lovers, fake dating

chapter summary: time to meet the family!

content: you and steve go shopping, meeting his family, mentions of drinking, food mention, swearing, she/her pronouns, use of y/n, a little surprise at the end ;)

word count: 4.7k

The piercing ring of the phone wakes Steve from his deep sleep and putting a pillow over his head doesn’t drown out the sound even a little bit. He begrudgingly throws his blanket and grumbles obscenities until he reaches the phone.

“Hello?” he answers with an abrasive tone. “Good morning to you too, sunshine” your voice sounds way too happy for someone who’s awake this early. “y/n? Why the hell are you calling me this early?”

“Do you always talk to your girlfriends like this? No wonder you’re still single.’’ you tease and he lets out an overdramatic, loud sigh. “Get to the point it’s too early for this”

“It’s almost ten in the morning that isn’t exactly the break of dawn, but anyways, I need to know if you work today”

“Yeah, I do” he lies. “Liar! I already asked Robin and she told me that you’re off today” he can practically hear your ‘know-it-all-’ smirk over the phone. “I’m five seconds away from hanging up”

“Okay, okay, don’t get your panties in a twist. We need to go shopping today” you tell him and he scoffs at your words “We? Why do I need to go?”

“You said all expenses paid and I need new clothes for our couples getaway, therefore, you’re going shopping with me”

“It’s not a couple’s gateway” is all he says. “That’s all semantics, Stevie”

“Do you even know what semantics means?” he asks “do you?” you reply, turning the tables. His lips purse while he tries to thinks of an answer. He’s got nothing. “Whatever. I’ll pick you up in an hour” he hands up before giving you a chance to gloat.

Steve shows up to your house an hour and a half later and he expects nothing less than you reprimanding him for it. You walk outside wearing a dress that might be a bad idea for a breezy day like today, but it’s still a pretty dress. He tells himself that only the dress looks pretty, not the person wearing it. Your sparkly lip gloss that anyone from a mile away can see, looks pretty too, but not because it’s on your lips. He can just appreciate a nice gloss, that’s it.

“Thirty minutes late, mister. That isn’t very ‘boyfriend’ of you” you say as soon as you get into the car. “How about a ‘thank you’ for picking you up? That isn’t very ‘girlfriend’ of you” he rebuttals.

“Hush, I’m the perfect girlfriend. Can I play some music?” you ask and he turns the radio on. “Oh, I love this song!” you cheer when you change the station and ‘We Belong’ by Pat Benatar comes on. “Of course you do” he says and you roll your eyes at him while turning up the radio. In all honesty, he likes this song, but he’ll never admit that out loud.

You sing every word, not too loudly, but loud enough that Steve can hear. Your singing isn’t horrible, but he knows every time he hears this song he’s going to associate it with you. “Why are you always so grouchy? You constantly have a look on your face like someone put salt in your sugar shaker”

“Thanks for putting off your concert long enough to ask me that” he turns the radio down until there's almost no music and you turn it back up a smidge. “See! You’re a total butthead” you argue. “Butthead? Are we five?”

“That’s such a butthead response”

“Then how about we don’t talk for the rest of the car ride? Kay?” he impolitely suggests and you cross your arms. “Fine”

“Fine”

So you sit in silence for the rest of the time you’re in the car, aside from your soft singing. It drives Steve insane.

The mall was quite busy for a Tuesday and it takes Steve three loops around the parking lot to find a decent spot.

“I told you to just park in the back. We could’ve saved so much time”

“What did I say about not talking while we’re in the car?” he asks, rhetorically. You quickly step out of the car and repeat yourself “I told you to just park in the back. We could’ve saved so much time. I’m not in the car, so you can’t get mad at me! C’mon, let's go!”

Steve sighs before taking the keys out of the ignition and following behind you. Once you reach the entrance you hold your hand out to him. He looks down at your hand and back up at you “What’s that?”

“It’s a hand, Steve. Ya know, most people have one attached to the end of their arm and-”

“What do you want me to do with your hand, smartass’’ he cuts you off. “We’re supposed to be getting used to acting like a couple, so hold my hand” your hand is still held out and you shake it in front of him. “Nope. No way” he pushes your hand but you reach it out again. “Stop being a butthead, yes I said it again because you’re acting like a five year old”

He reluctantly takes your hand and your fingers lace together. “Wow, look at that. You didn’t even burst into flames” you taunt. He doesn’t hate it as much as he thought it would. Your hands are soft and he notices that your nails match the color of your dress. It’s kind of cute.

Steve tries to shield his face with his hand and you laugh at him. “That’s not gonna work. People come from all over to see that head of hair, so they’ll be able to tell that it’s you holding my hand. I hope you’ll be able to survive this tragic event”

He removes his hand from his face “People do not come from all over just to see my hair.” he grumbles. “It’s called a joke, Steve. Since I don’t think I’ve ever seen you smile whenever I’m around then I shouldn’t be surprised you didn’t know that”

“Let’s just get this over with. Where are we going first?” you drag him to the first store and Steve is convinced everyone is staring at him while he holds your hand. (literally no one is giving either of you a second glance).

“Hold this for me, baby” you hand him a sundress and he grimaces at the nickname “Is holding hands not enough? You gotta call me ‘baby’ too?” he complains. “Get used to it, baby”

After only ten minutes in the store, Steve has a stack of clothes piled in his arms. “Are you really buying all of this?” he asks. “I’m not buying anything, you are, but I have to try it on first and you have to give me your opinion”

“My opinion is that you’re going to look horrible in all of it”

“You say that now, but you’ve never seen me in this shade of pink” you point to one of the dresses in his hand that isn’t holding yours. “I’ve seen you in every shade of every color. Your closet looks like a box of crayons exploded”

“You remember what colors I have in my wardrobe? Sounds like you’re a bit obsessed with me”

“In your dreams…babe? Ugh that sounded weird. Can you try this shit on now? My arm is about to fall off” He whines. “Yeah, I wouldn't want you to break a nail. Wait outside the dressing room so I can show you how it looks” you tell him. “Can’t wait” he replies, sarcasm dripping from his tongue.

Steve checks his watch every thirty seconds because how long does it take to try on one dress?

“Spend your whole life waitin’ on your woman, don’t ya?” an older gentleman asks him. “Uh, yeah. I guess so” chuckles. “My wife, Ethel, over there” he points in the direction of where his wife stands “always takes her sweet time. After forty years of marriage I’m still always waitin’ on her, but she still looks so damn beautiful that it’s worth it”

“Harold, leave the poor boy alone, honey” His wife says when she wanders over to her husband. “No, I don’t mind. I’m just waiting for my girl to show me her new dress” Steve says. He said ‘my girl’ so naturally he didn’t even realize it until he finished his sentence.

“Steve, what do you think- oh, hi!” you greet the couple and introduce yourself. “That’s a beautiful dress, don’t ya think Steve?” Harold asks him. “y-yeah. You look great, sweetheart” he smiles. You do look great. The color of the dress compliments your skin tone perfectly and makes your eyes pop.

“How long have you two been together?” Ethel asks. “Five months” you both say at the same time. “Oh, young love. It’s truly a wonderful thing. I feel like I’m looking in a mirror from forty years ago” She expresses and puts her hand over her heart. “We’ll let you kids get back to it. Enjoy the rest of your day” Harold says. “Thank you, you too!” you respond before they walk away.

“So, um, tell me what you really thing about this dress”

“I think it looks great” he replies. “Really? No snarky comment? Did that old couple make you go all soft on me, Harrington?”

“Not in a million years. Go try the other shit on I don’t wanna be here all day” he carps. “Okay, I’m going, but don’t fall in love with me after seeing how good I look in this next one!” yeah, right he thinks.

After a fashion show and a dent in his bank account, you finally leave the store. Most of your outfits were casual, but cute and preppy enough to impress his family. You even found a dress to wear to the wedding. “I have to get a new bathing suit. Or three new bathing suits” you announce as you walk past a store with all the summer essentials. “Three? For what reason?”

“You said your family members are all staying in lake houses and I need to be prepared. I’m also assuming this fancy hotel we’re staying in has a pool” you explain. “Oh, and how come we aren’t staying in a lake house?” you wonder. “My parents weren’t gonna rent a house for just me. I even told them I was bringing my “girlfriend”, but we’re still staying in a hotel twenty minutes away from everyone” he answers. “Oh no, we’re staying in an expensive hotel with all the amenities we could ever need. Should I bring a survival kit?” you gibe.

“Just go get your swimsuits and don’t make me watch you model them” he pleads. “Why? Scared you’ll like what you see?” Yes, he thinks to himself. “Nope. Just starving. I’m gonna go grab something from the food court” he says before scurrying off.

“Hey, can I get two soft pretzels and two lemonades, please?”

“Steve Harrington?” He hears a woman's voice and turns around. “It’s me! Beth!”

“Beth, hi!” He greets. Steve went on a date with Beth a few months ago and she never called him back. He actually really liked her, too. Until she ditched him for her new boyfriend.

“How are you? Hungry?” She asks when she she's the two pretzels and drinks in his hand. “Oh, um, ones for me and ones for my… girlfriend. She’s shopping right now- oh look, there she is! Baby, I’m over here!” he waves to get your attention.

“Aw, you got me something? You’re so sweet, Stevie” you kiss his cheek and it takes everything in him to not act weirded out. “Babe, this is Beth. Beth this is my girl, y/n”

“Nice to meet you, y/n. It was good to see you, Steve” she says and saunters off. “Did you really have to kiss my cheek?” he wipes your lipgloss off of his face. “Give me a soft pretzel and I’ll do just about anything”

“Gross” he mutters, “Are you done shopping yet?” he groans. “Yes, I’m done. Thanks again for the pretzel. That was actually really nice” you smile at him. “Don’t thank me yet. I poisoned it” he jokes and you chuckle. “Thank god. Then I wouldn’t have to spend three whole days with you”

“Well, actually, we have to go up thursday” he tells you and you stop in your tracks. “Thursday? That's in two days and I have so much to do!” you exclaim. “You’ll just have to get it done a day early. It’s the least you can do after I bought you this pretzel”

“You’re impossible”

“And you’re welcome for the delicious treat and all the clothes”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. Just take me home, please”

“Gladly”

By the time Thursday rolls around, you’re already exhausted from this weekend before it’s even started. You spent your entire day yesterday doing laundry, going to the store for travel things, packing, and mentally preparing yourself for being Steve’s “girlfriend”.

It wasn’t that pretending to be his significant other was going to be the worst thing in the world. He’s attractive and you’ve heard his personality is alright, you’ve just yet to meet that version of Steve, but you worried it would be awkward.

There’s no way you have any amount of chemistry with Steve that makes it convincing that you two are in love. He scowls at any pet name you give him, he practically freezes any time you touch him, and you’re pretty sure he’d slip into a coma if he was actually nice to you.

The sound of Steve honking his horn pulls you from your anxious thoughts. He can’t even come up and knock on your door. God forbid he helps you carry any of your luggage. He did pop the trunk for you, though, so that’s something at least.

“Is your arm broken?” you ask, sitting down in the passenger seat. “No?” he replies, confused. “I just figured since you didn’t help me carry a single thing that-”

“You’re bitching already? It hasn’t even been five minutes that must be a new record”

“your hair looks flat today” you insult and he glares at you “you do know i have traits other than my hair, right?”

“yeah, I know. just don’t care enough, is all” you state, looking at your manicure like his existence is irrelevant to you. “Right, okay. Let’s just not kill each other until we get there”

“Only if you promise to buy me snacks at the gas station” you bargain “Fine. Whatever you want”

You fell asleep halfway through the car ride and have woken up once. For some reason, Steve can’t stop himself from glancing over you. Your head is resting on the window, your lips are slightly parted, and if he didn’t already know you, he’d think you actually look kind of sweet.

“Hey” he whispers and gently shakes your shoulder to wake you up. You grunt in response and he shakes your shoulder a little more. “Wake up, we’re almost at my parents lake house” he says and you jolt awake. “We’re stopping there first? I’m not prepared for that!” you exclaim and flip down the visor mirror to make yourself look presentable.

“They said they have a surprise for us and they’re looking forward to meeting you. It’ll be fine” he puts his hand on your thigh for a split second then quickly pulls it back. “And here we are” he announces when he pulls into the driveway. It’s more of a lake mansion than a lake house, but you didn’t expect anything less. Steve opens the passenger side door for you just in case anyone is watching. He can tell you’re nervous about meeting his parents. You’ve been fiddling with the hem of your top and the look on your face isn’t exactly hiding any of your emotions.

Steve grabs your hand and you’re taken by surprise. He’s touching you without acting like there’s a gun to his head. “Ready to meet the parents?” he asks, giving your hand a squeeze “As ready as I’ll ever be”

He knocks on the door and your leg bounces, anxiously. “Hey, stop worrying. They’ll love you. Most people think you’re great. Apart from me, obviously” he jests and you snicker. You know it isn’t a big deal if his parents don’t like you. You two aren’t actually together and there's a high chance you’ll never see them again, but you have this irritating need for people’s approval. Which is a bit ironic considering your hand is currently being held by the one person who has a huge issue with you.

“Steve, honey! We’re so glad you’re here!” his mom exclaims before hugging him. “You must be y/n! It’s so nice to meet you!” she hugs you next. “It’s nice to meet you too, Mrs. Harrington”

“Oh, please, call me Joanne. Come in, I’ll get your father. George, Steve and his girlfriend are here!” she shouts when you all walk inside.

Steves’ father emerges from the back porch of the house and it’s like Steve twenty-five years from now walked in from the future. “Now, what’s someone as pretty as you doing with my son? Did you pay her Steve?” he jokes, but he has no idea how close he is to being correct. “Thanks, dad, good to see you too.” Steve grumbles. “Don’t get too upset, I know how sensitive you can be. I’m George, it’s a pleasure to meet you” he extends his hand and you shake it. “It’s great to meet you. I’m y/n”

“You’re much nicer than most girls my son dates. There was one girl-”

“Anyways, mom said you had a surprise for us” Steve interrupts his dad. “Yes, we do!” his mom says and hands Steve a key. “What’s this?” he asks as he holds the key. “Well, your father and I thought it might be romantic if you two had your own house and you’d be much closer to the family. It’s just right up the road and we cancelled your hotel reservation.”

“That’s so kind of you, Mrs. Harr- Joanne. You didn’t have to do that” you thank her and she beams at your appreciation. “Honey, we’re just so grateful that Steve has found someone that he clearly loves. You should’ve heard how he spoke about you on the phone” She tells you and Steve’s face turns beet red when you turn to look at him. “Uh, yeah, thank you. We should probably go check this out, yeah?’’ he asks and you nod.

“Once you freshen up, don’t forget we’re having dinner here tonight!” Joanne reminds the both of you before saying your goodbyes. Your nerves come back when you think about meeting the rest of his family.

“So… what did you say about me on the phone?” you ask once you both step outside. “I don’t even remember. I didn’t really say much” he lies, but he doesn’t want you to know just in case you get the wrong impression that he might not dislike you as much as you think he does. “Keep your secrets, then. Let's go check out our house!” you squeal and run to the car.

“Oh my gosh, it’s so cute!” you say as you pull into the driveway. The house is smaller than the others, but the ideal size for two people. There’s a porch that overlooks the lake with two rocking chairs and a coffee table. It’s perfect for watching the sun rise and set.

It does make you a little sad that if you weren’t here, Steve would be all alone in a hotel while the rest of his family was within walking distance. Why wouldn’t he stay with his parents? or another family member? “Did you hear me?” he asks, bringing you back from all the questioning going on in your mind.“No, sorry. What did ya say?”

“I asked if you’re ready to go inside. I’ll help you with your bags this time”

“Yeah, thanks.” you grin and get out of the car.

The inside of the house is as beautiful as the outside. It’s cozy and inviting. If Steve was your boyfriend, it would be very romantic. “So, only one bedroom I suppose,” Steve speaks up. “I’ll take the couch” he volunteers.

“Steve, I can already tell you’re too tall for that couch. I’ll take it”

“No, it’s fine. I don’t mind”

“Or we could be adults and share the bed? It’s big enough that you won’t even come close to touching me” you assure him. “If you wanted to sleep next to me, all you had to do was ask” he smirks and your nose scrunches in disgust. “Shut up, I’m trying to be nice to you”

“Let’s unpack before we have to go to dinner. Are you nervous about meeting everyone else?” he asks as you throw your luggage on the bed so you can unpack your bags. “Yeah, I guess. Is there anything I should know?” you question. “Not really. My parents seemed to like you, so they’ve probably already put in a good word.”

The rest of the time you spend unpacking and getting ready is spent in silence. It isn’t either an awkward or comfortable silence. It’s like neither of you are there, not acknowledging each other unless absolutely necessary.

You and Steve decide to walk to his parents since it’s such a pleasant evening. The sound of the lake is peaceful and the moonlight illuminates your surroundings so perfectly that it makes the street lamps needless. “It really is lovely out here” you say and Steve hums in agreement. “Are you nervous, Steve? About seeing your family? You ask and he lets out a sigh that he’s been holding in for a while. “Kind of, but they’re probably gonna be more focused on you”

“Do you wanna talk about it?” you offer and he shakes his head. “Nah, that’s alright. We’re almost there anyway” When you walk through the door of the house, Steve places his hand on the small of your back. Only for appearances, clearly. “We’re here” he announces and his family comes over to greet you.

“You must be y/n! I’m Linda, Steve’s aunt. We’ve heard many great things about you!” You make your way through all introductions followed by a million it’s nice to meet you too’s. His family is bigger than you expected and you can definitely tell that they have money just by looking at them.

You’re finally offered a glass of wine and happily accept. “Here, Steve, it’s an old-fashioned. The real man's drink” His father hands him a glass and he has to stop himself from chugging it.

“We are all dying to know how you two met” Steve’s aunt says to you once you and Steve are in the kitchen. It seems like everyone is gathered in the kitchen to hear the story. Steve looks a little lost so you decide you’ll take the lead on this one.

“Well, we met through mutual friends and Steve was terrible at attempting to flirt with me. I thought he was just so cute and one night I got stood up on a blind date and Steve came to my rescue and the rest is history” you wrap your arm around his back and his arm wraps around your shoulder. He can’t believe how quickly you came up with that. Your story is met with many ‘aws’ and Steve mouths a ‘thank you’ when no one is looking.

“I like your dress’’ you hear a small voice come from behind you and you turn around to see the most adorable toddler with pigtails. “Thank you, sweetie. I like your hair” you bend down to eye level with her. “I’m y/n. What’s your name?”. “Penelope. I’m this many” She holds up three fingers and you smile. “Do y’wanna color with me?” she asks and you follow her to the table she was coloring at.

“Are you married to Steve?”

“Nope, not married, but I am his girlfriend” it still feels weird to say that. “Okay. You can use my crayons”

Steve watched this interaction from the kitchen. He thinks the drink is already starting to go to his head because he thinks it's absolutely adorable. You’re a natural with kids and with his family. He can’t tell if it’s all part of the act or if you are actually this amazing.

Dinner goes smoothly with the help of several alcoholic beverages. Steve’s hand has been on your thigh throughout the entire meal and he didn’t act bothered by it at all. Maybe his acting skills aren’t so abysmal after all.

“Can I help you wash up?” you ask his mom as she cleans up the kitchen. “That would be wonderful, dear.”

“Penelope adores you, by the way. She’s always been a little shy and she warmed up to you just like that.” She tells you. “She’s a sweet kid. I was like that when I was younger. Shy, I mean. Guess I still am” a small chuckle escapes your throat. “Well, no worries about that. The family loves you” She assures you and you give her a kind smile.

“Ready to go, babe?” Steve asks you. “Go on, I’ll make George help with cleanup” His mom hugs you both and his hand holds yours as you say your goodbyes to everyone.

“That wine got to me, I think. I feel all warm and fuzzy” you say with a giggle. Steve still hasn’t let go of your hand even though you're halfway back to the house by now. “I know what you mean. You were great, by the way. Pretty sure they’re convinced we’re in love.”

“Wow, you’re complimenting me? You must definitely be tipsy” you laugh. “And you’re still holding my hand so you’re absolutely toasted” he quips. “m’not. I just might fall over if you let go” so he doesn’t let go, not until you’re both inside the bedroom.

Once you both climb into bed, there’s more than a respectable distance between you and Steve. For some reason, a strange thought crosses your mind and you have the biggest urge to bring it up. “Hey, Steve?”

“Hm?”

“I thought of something we haven’t practiced yet and it’s kinda weird, but hear me out”

“Okay…I’m listening” he says, sounding a little suspicious. “Do you think it’ll be weird if we don’t kiss? Nothing crazy just a couple pecks here and there” he sits up and turns on the bedside table lamp. “You wanna makeout in front of my family?”

“No! Of course not. I said peck” he doesn’t respond and you’ve never felt more embarrassed in your life.

“Okay. Yeah, we probably should practice it. Ya know, just to be convincing” he finally speaks up. “Yeah. Just to be convincing.” you both sit up and scoot closer to each other. “Wait! Can you turn off the light?” you request and he quickly turns off the light.

You feel Steve’s hand resting on your cheek and your heart thumps in your chest out of nerves, not anything else, that’s for sure. “Ready?” he asks “Ready”

His lips brush yours and linger for a few seconds before he places his lips on yours in a proper kiss. It’s a simple kiss. There’s no tongue, obviously, and it feels like it’s over before it's even started.

“Wait, sorry. Let me try again” he says. He kisses you again and it’s still simple, but this time your lips move together in a harmonious agreement. His body moves closer to yours and you feel yourself slipping away, like you’ve forgotten that you’re kissing Steve Harrington. Someone that you aren’t supposed to be kissing.

He pulls back as he feels that the kiss might grow more intense. You’re left breathless and stunned, but Steve doesn’t seem to be as affected as you are, but he is. His palms are sweaty and his heart feels like it might jump out of his throat. He nonchalantly rolls over back to his side while you stay in the same position, staring at his silhouette.

“Goodnight, y/n”

“y-yeah, goodnight”

a/n: IT’LL GET JUCIER SOON I PROMISE

taglist: @freezaz123 @lovelyimpossibleobservation @johnricharddeacy @mjtalksaboutanything @nix-rose-q @eternallyvenus (i hope i didn't miss anyone!)

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fic #steve harrington series #steve harrington enemies to lovers #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington #steve harrington angst #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington smut #steve harrington stranger things #stranger things fic

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tales-of-green-hill · 23 days

Text

Spoilers for the Shadow Arc

[FIRST]

[PREV]

[With Sonic] [With Shadow]

#for clarification: Tails saying that basically equates to “he just offed himself.”#because they see using the gateway ring as either su!c!de or genocide #comic #sonic au #sonic #sonic the hedgehog #miles tails prower #human sonic #knuckles the echidna #sonic gijinka #sonic humanization #art

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catfern · 8 months

Text

she will destroy you.

pairing: abby anderson x afab!reader

music: crack baby or bag of bones ( or anything from puberty 2 ) - mitski

word count: 3.3k (i'm exhausted)

summary: rumours are swirling, fighting their way through your front door. you hope to keep your work and private life separate, but your proximity with your boss threatens to catch up with you.

warnings: mean!toxic!abby, cheating, porn with a LOT of plot, swearing, tipsy sex, fingering, oral (r!receiving), zero ( i mean ZERO ) aftercare, angst-ish

an: a quick intermission from cowboy!ellie because LORD. i read one page from one book abt a butch teacher yearning for the headmaster's wife and suddenly I NEED AFFAIRS!! I NEED YEARNING!! I NEED SECRECY!! and who better to do that with than a rlly mean ceo!abby who has a PhD in fucking bitches.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

“Shit.”

A line of scarlet trickles onto the warm printer paper and settles. You drop your paperwork on an unknown desk and suck your finger, hissing through your teeth at the sting. Your phone buzzes impatiently in the back pocket of your work pants, and you fumble with your non-bleeding fingers to pull it out.

we’ll talk abt this when u get home

see u after ur party i guess

A shit fucking day.

You hall back to your desk, defeat slumping heavy on your shoulders. The Office makes an effort not to stare as you walk by, low whispers hot on your feet like coals in a firewalk. You pretend very poorly not to see the half-lidded, secretive looks shared between your old work friends by the water cooler. Water off a duck’s back, your mom used to say in a nonchalant way when you cried to her about mean girls at school. Not that you ever really knew what that meant.

You were never really thankful to be shut off from the rest of the cubicles, until now. A fortress of frosted glass and a heavy door, your desk was the secluded gateway to a place dreaded. Just you and The Boss, which you guess didn’t help the flying tongues of the old, bored fucks in accounting, but it kept people away. Away from you, with their knowing looks and unknowing laughs.

You huff, settling into your uncomfortable desk chair and digging out a small first aid kit your dad bought you when you first started. Pulling the seal off the small tin, you eye its contents. Disinfectant, thermometer, some loose aspirin and bandaids. You whine lightly as you wrap one tightly around your ring finger, feeling it throb and pulse, like a complaint. Get over yourself, you tell your body.

A sharp - ahem - breaks through your mumbling silence. She’s never sick, she never coughs. It’s a bodiless beckoning, a call into the wild, it’s the wordless agreement you have with her. You pick up your notebook, and the nearest working pen, and shuffle quickly through the open door into her office.

The opaque shades are drawn, the natural light greying and dying on the dark, decaying herringbone floor.

Abby is bathed in the orange light of her desk lamp. With impeccable, almost effortless posture, she’s resting her forearms on her desk, one hand scratching notes into her diary, the other distractedly tapping on the leather top. You follow the shadows that the folds in her dress shirt create, your eyes falling on the contour of her body.

You know she frequents a few gyms. You’re the one who schedules late night international calls around her evening runs, and her weights sessions, and her triweekly spin class. But now, the results of her efforts are on display, tightly wrapped in expensive cotton, perfectly tailored, down to the very last stitch, to her existence. You swallow an uncomfortable feeling when she deigns to meet your eye.

She looks you over in the way she always does, an uncaring, but judgemental once-over, like an army sergeant inspecting a uniform. she hones in on the bandaid,

“Workplace injury?”

Her voice has the warmth of a dying cigarette, rolling like well-spoken honey off her lips. You almost feel ashamed, your finger so offensive to her you could chop it off. You almost feel like you wouldn’t even mind. You start picking at the ends of the bandaid with your thumb.

“Paper cut.” Your voice is always so out of place here. An echo of something that does not belong. She nods her head, ever so slightly, as if she understood.

“Don’t think you can go claiming compensation for that.” It’s a joke you’re not allowed to laugh at. You smile lightly instead. It’s short-lived, “I need you to correct some seating arrangements for tonight.”

Yes, of course. No problem. In wordless agreement, Abby starts listing off adjustments, complaints and warnings from guests about not being seated next to their five ex-husbands, or their whining step-children, or ex-business partners fallen from grace. your pen fingers begin to ache as the whole process draws out.

“And I’m going to need you seated at my table, to keep track of my evening itinerary.”

Uncertainty quickly sows its seeds in your stomach. The unopened messages from your girlfriend burn their way through pocket, searing at your legs like a brand on cattle. Everyone knows, everyone will know. Every detail of your life will be laid bare, and you’ll be tried publicly and without mercy. Your bandaid begins to unravel as you rub anxiously at the glue underneath.

You need to do something, something to get things back under control.

“Actually,” You start, unsure. Abby meets your eye quickly, without hesitation, “I don’t think I’ll be able to make it tonight.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” It’s quick, and condescending. Undercutting any sudden courage you may have had, she meets your eye and stares you down, pinning you under ice, almost imploring you to feel terrified. And then she looks away, busy packing away the seating chart, and you wonder if she even looked at you at all.

She stands, and you try to meet her, your hands clutching your notebook.

“Your attendance tonight is mandatory.” She says it slowly, harshly, like it’s hard for you to understand. Her eyes chase quickly over your outfit, “It’s a black tie event.”

You’re left alone in a dark office, hyperventilating.

The apartment is empty and cold when you arrive home. 7 unanswered texts to your girlfriend tell you she doesn’t want you near her, but she isn’t packed. You expect her to come home, hopefully in the hour you have before you have to go again, and you contemplate just blowing the gala off to wait.

Abby’s voice is sharp in your head, a familiar dedication wringing your body. You can’t leave her. She needs you there.

You put off the conversation with your girlfriend into the furthest parts of your mind, allowing yourself to be swallowed in the minor decisions of clothes and hair and accessories. It’s not until you’re throwing your shoes on, and three times you think you hear her keys in the door, that you give up.

The phone rings 5 times before going to voicemail.

Hey. Listen. I know we said we weren’t going to talk until we were face to face but..

Whatever Maria told you wasn’t true, okay? I promise-I fucking promise you, nothings happened. Baby, okay? People are fucking bored, and I love you, so so much. I’ve gotta go to this one thing tonight - i tried to get out of it i swear -, and i’ll come home and we can talk, and we can fix this. Okay? Jus-Just, gimme some time to explain. Okay. I love you. Bye.

Echoes of quiet chatter uncomfortably ebb and flow off the walls of the ballroom. Too many people. Shoes scuff the cheap marble as the rich make their rounds, with light touches and reused laughter. They all hate each other.

Abby is a familiar sight. Wearing the same thing she has all day, she looks staggering. Hands just breaching her suit pockets, comfortably falling at her side, her hair in a calculated braid, designed to make her look approachable.

The air here agrees with her, her smile wide and effortless. You know she’s come straight from a meeting, and you suppose that adds to her charm. The Working Woman, a success story. Her rich friends, who spend their inheritances on shares and indoor tennis courts, lap it up. She’s a foreign object, something unfamiliar and wild.

You don’t interrupt, skimming the sidelines to get to your table. You can feel her glance, without substance, before returning to her conversation. Your event planner ( a shitty flip notebook that fits in every small clutch you own ) sits on the tablecloth at your seat, and you wait. Eyeing the glasses at the placemats next you, you can tell a few drinks has been shared, raking your eyes over Abby’s looser disposition.

She’s happy, and charming. She’s been drinking bourbon. Mint, with ice and syrup, the way you serve it to her in her office, when the occasion calls for celebration.

Her conversation finishes, her soft hands bidding gentle, kind goodbyes to the couple as they move on. She’s a friend to the people that matter.

“I expected you here before me.”

She doesn’t bother to look at you as she sits, instead fixing her napkin to her lap. You watch as the veins in her neck rise and fall as she talks, “Doesn’t matter now. Run me through everything.”

Right, fuck. You open your notebook and run your fingers over the scratchy writing. Your days leading up to this were spent copying details from obscure emails, tidbits you thought Abby needed to remember. Late nights at the office, life abandoned, deciphering biographies and 2 hour youtube deep dives. You can watch yourself fall asleep from the future, your handwriting slipping, long and longer strokes, spelling dissolving, long words abandoned. your pen fell to the floor, and you slept at your desk. Twenty missed calls. You argued when you came home in the morning.

“The Ambassador is arriving around 8:00pm with his new wife, also named Rebecca. Oh, Old Rebecca emailed asking why she didn’t receive an invitation.”

She’s slowly sipping at another whiskey, a different cocktail she ordered just as you’d arrived. The orange peel brushes her nose as she tilts the glass, her jaw tightens as she swallows, “Tell her the venue was at capacity. Send some flowers.”

It continues like this for a bit. Quiet and attentive, she listens to what you have to say, as her eyes follow the crowd. You too, spy people that you know, a few slimy execs that share a whisper and a boisterous laugh as they look your way. You order gin.

Soon enough, Abby checks her watch. An inexpensive, vintage piece of leather and quartz. She excuses herself with a measure of politeness. It’s time for an hour of speeches that don’t matter, before you’re finally allowed to eat. You sigh.

A quiet buzz rips through the growing silence. You open your clutch and hide your phone under the silk tablecloth, away from the disapproving elderly eyes.

i told u to leave me alone

jesus christ

A pit in your stomach. Dark, pressing, ever present. Your saliva is heavy in your mouth, and you feel like shrinking away. Luckily, the waiter isn’t far. Drinks are discounted for the company staff.

Finally, speeches finish. Abby looked nice on the stage, effervescent under the lights. Her hair catches warm light nicely in the strands.

The food comes, but people disregard it for shallow conversations. Plates are taken away full, apart from slim, polite pickings. Your table orders more drinks, and syrupy laughter echoes as anecdotes about private schools and hedge funds are shared. You don’t belong here. Your body becomes unsteady, restless. Your legs shaking, a hand finds you thigh in the veiled secrecy of the table cloth.

Abby’s not looking at you, too engaged in tipsy conversation to draw attention. A nice gesture, but it’s not. It’s wordless agreement. Her thumb traces the outside of your thigh mindlessly, her jaw clenching as she feels your gaze.

You hesitate.

What else did you have to do? Apart from go home and wait for an argument.

You let her touch you a little longer, soft, ghostly. It’s kind, unmistakably. You let yourself revel in it, in her uncommon affection, before excusing yourself to the bathroom.

Abby follows not long after. She’s confident, her position charismatic, not unlike the other times she finds a drink, and then goes to find you. She doesn’t stop, so sure that you’ll follow her trail as you’ve done so often before. But you hesitate, again.

She turns back to you, a look on her face that’s hard to decipher. You stumble in your reasoning.

“It’s just-, my girlfrien-“

“Are you coming? Or not?”

Your palms itch, you swallow.

What kind of sick sacrifice. Unfair to have both, some would say, but some don’t know you. How wicked it is to taste both fruit and have to choose the sweeter. Fuck. The drinks settle in your stomach.

Your girlfriend wasn’t coming home tonight anyway, not really.

She’s leading you up the stairs, hands flush to her body. You grip the cold handrail to hold you steady. She’s already steps ahead, the appropriate distance.

A quiet corner doesn’t need to be found. She’s been here before. You’ve been here before. The holy emptiness of the second floor is an accustomed comfort.

She’s quick and calculated, despite the mix of drinks on her breath. One hand pushing you to the wall, the other finding the zipper for your dress. It falls off you like it never belonged to you, kicked away and piled into a corner, forgotten.

Gripping you like you’d run away, she palms your tits and presses crescent moons into your hips. She holds her head away from you, watching you down her nose as you squirm. Abby has always remained detached, carefully groomed a distance between you that now feels too sacred to break. You long to feel her kiss you, to feel her intimately, to run your hands along her arms and feel every curve, every outline. You’ve needed to touch her since the moment you met her. Craved it.

Abby is disrespectful, impatient. She cups your pussy, still hidden in slick panties, letting the rough ball of her palm grind against your clit. It sets you on fire, and she chases it with a hand on your mouth to keep you quiet.

“Get rid of them.”

You strip fast, in a very unflattering way, you’re certain, and throw your underwear close to the ghost of your dress. She moves against you again, her hand softer as it wraps around your lips and cheeks. You look at her, hoping to see that softness echoed on her face, but her eyes are elsewhere, too focused on the movement your tits make as she holds you against the wall.

Painstakingly, her fingers slide inside you, her hand pressing down on your mouth as you moan around the feeling of her, the intoxication. Your hands lock and unlock, your nails digging at scratching at the wood boards on the wall as you try to balance yourself.

Merciless. She rocks into you, letting you fall into step with her, find her pace, a relentless one. You feel her melting into your core, her fingers curling and stretching your walls as she pounds into you, again, again, again. You sound pathetic, behind the mask of her hand, whining as she leaves, and nearly screaming when she returns.

Abby watches as your face contorts around her fingers, feels you wrap around her. If she feels even a fraction of what she gives you, you wouldn't know. Her eyes remain unkind, left at a distance, but her breathing is staggered. short, laboured. she looks over you, you feel it, feel as her eyelashes rise as she rakes over your body.

You need it to be desire in her eyes. You need her to starve. To crave, like you do. Desperation.

Her hand moves from your mouth, your whimpering breath filling the room fast, the quiet broken. Her pace slows, and you almost rest on her fingers, left to wonder what she’s playing at. Instead, it comes down on your shoulder, still warm and wet with your breath, and she pushes you down onto her fingers, deep, deep. you feel her at the very centre of yourself, your eyes wide as the pressure builds inside you, her fingernails leaving a trail, evidence of her in your walls. She lets your ragged moans echo, hurt and pleasure. It’s an unkind end to things.

You don’t want to let it to end. You can’t.

The distance is broken. You reach out and grasp flesh, firm under your nails. You’re still riding the ecstasy pulse, the heat in your pussy, and Abby lets you stay, holding onto her as if you would fade otherwise. Your cheeks are almost touching, her breath hot on your ear, you hear her for the first time, raspy groans as you squeeze around her. She’s been holding back.

Damn it all.

“Everybody knows. Please. Please, fuck me like you know you should.”

You meet her gaze. Everything is foreign now. Her skin feels different to how you had imagined it. Softer. Her eyes are more uncertain, more than you’d ever seen before. Hesitance.

“Fuck it.”

Whiskey, and a sip of your gin, and tobacco. You didn’t even know she smoked, but you taste it on her like its the only thing she ever did. The smell of pine came in a wave as she moved, hooking her hands under your legs and hoisting you up. For months, you’ve yearned for her to kiss you, begged for it even. And now, her lips are rough, and bloody, and everywhere. Ghosts tracing your neck, unkind, stinging, exhilarating.

She moves you to the floor without fuss, holding herself over you, your legs spread around her. She’s smiling, and you become so sure that there’s something not quite right with this side of Abby. You’re quickly aware that you’ve landed in hostile territory, vulnerable, needy.

She usually didn’t like it when you begged.

Her tongue is like the rapture on your clit, spitting fire through your veins, in your nerves. You feel it creep up in your body, twisting and tightening through you like something invasive, moans and prayers dripping from your lips that only push her. her name a curse, fallen on your body. You feel her laugh against your slick walls and it jolts you.

Abby, suddenly so aware of you, so kind, so attentive, shifts her posture, “Oh, you’re so needy.” A hand grabs your face, pulling it up from the floor in a dead lull. Her name rolls off your pretty lips once more, “What? You beg for me, and now you can’t take me?” Her tone is mocking, “Which is it? Hm?”

A cacophony. You, you, you. Your head foggy, unsure of what she wants to hear, you beg for again, telling her you can it take it. I can, please, abby.

Her laugh is cruel, mocking as her mouth finds you again, sending cold vibrations up your legs. Slut echoes against your clit.

Inside of you, she feels like a god. Her fingers stretching your walls, pressing deep against your centre at an excruciating pace, and her tongue lazily laps up all that you give her.

“Fuck! Fu-uck, fuck!”

It’s clear to Abby that the caution she so carefully designed was useless now. People knew, and fuck it if they knew. Fuck it if they heard you dripping on her fingers, calling out her name. Fuck it if they stop the music, and turn to listen - fucking perverts - because it’s her. And you’re the one begging for her.

Stars creep in through the haze in your vision, and Abby’s trying to ask you something harsh, but you don’t hear it. You’re tethered to the feeling of her fingers, your whole body knotting around her like a planet in orbit of the sun.

You’d burn if she wanted you to, happily.

You’re so fucking tight around her fingers, your legs shaking and a vicious call ripping through your body. Her Name.

The warmth from your body is too much, and the cool of the floor is lulling, soothing, as you collapse. Abby’s fingers leave you empty, incomplete. You whine as she leaves you, your walls tightening around the absence of her. She wipes your cotton slick on your leg.

She stands, and rolls her shoulders. Fixes the few hairs that fall out of place. Guiltless.

“Get dressed, before someone sees you.”

#i'm gonna get back to cowboy!ellie i swear #i have so many people in my inbox begging for her I HEAR U!!#i just needed a change of pace bc writers block yk #idk what it is w me and mean women but cowboy!ellie is also going to be a bit mean i fear #also i was going to write this w ellie as the gf but i couldn't fit it in #but it is implied!!#abby anderson x reader #abby anderson smut #abby tlou #abby anderson x female reader #abby anderson #abby anderson x y/n #abby anderson x you #tlou abby #abby x reader #abby the last of us

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meowmeowmeowmeow4x · 2 months

Text

Supersons +1 prompt answer Parte Dos

Parte Uno

Original Prompt

Jon couldn't help but take a peek at the large metal ring constructed behind the massive form of Dr Fenton, its size and shape dwarfing man and son. He couldn't watch for much longer, however, as their encounter with Daniel was expedited by Damian's impatience. Maybe he was just itching for a fight, or a supervillain to beat down. Either way, as Superboy, it was his job to make sure Daniel walked out with all his limbs intact!

"Daniel Fenton." But Damian was interrupted just as fast as he had started.

"Ew, no, it's Danny thank you very much. Only my parents when they're angry, and- bleh- Vlad, call me Daniel."

Damian scowled (he was doing that a lot today). "Daniel Fenton, we have some questions for you."

"Guess that's not gonna happen."

Time to intervene. Jon stepped between Damian and Danny, arms outstretched, with a friendly but diplomatic smile. "What Damian here means is we're suuuuper curious about your dad's research, aren't you Damian?"

"...Yes."

"If you wanna know more about my Dad's research, why don't you uhh." Danny bobbed his head at Mr Fenton's direction, the man in the midst of grabbing onto an unfortunate bystander and extolling the virtues of his next invention.

"Your father has proven lacking in his ability to explain his own work, which is why the responsibility now falls on to you, Daniel Fenton, if that's even your real name."

Wow, laying it on real thick, aren't you Damian.

Danny very pointedly ignores the death stare (hehe, death stare) from Dami to look to Jon. "And you are...?"

"Jon, I'm here with my dad too! He's a reporter, but some of this stuff's got me bored out of my mind. I mean, a flying toilet? Really??"

This manages to get a chuckle out of Danny. "You saw that too? And here I thought I'd get to see some normal inventions around here."

"I know right! I feel subconscious even with bathroom stalls and stuff. What are you gonna do, bring a flying curtain?"

"Honestly I know some folks back home who could find it handy." Danny said, a mysterious smirk on his lip. What could be so mysterious about a bunch of streakers back home? Or...

"Would you like to elaborate on that statement, Fenton?" Damian cut in. "Or the function of the garish-looking gateway erected by your Father?"

"Oh that? That's the Fenton PortaPortal."

"Porta what?" Jon asked.

"The Porta Portal. Portable Portal. It's like the one back home, 'cept it's light enough to move around."

"Portal to where exactly?"

Danny shrugs. "The Ghost Zone, where else?"

"You mean to say your parents have breached the afterlife using science?"

"Hah!" Danny laughs. "But it won't work, trust me." There was that knowing grin again.

"You seem pretty sure, Danny. Also wait, you have one of these back home?"

"Yeah, and it let in the raging hordes of the undead on my town. Overshadowing (that's possession btw), taking over the school with meat, box-based assault, replacing people like changelings, that one time a ghost tried to blow up my sister with a laser, that one time the Ghost King kidnapped the entire town and transported it to the Realms..." Danny listed out various dangerous situations like it was Tuesday, ignorant of the dawning horror upon his audience's faces. Jon himself was starting to feel a little green. Ghosts? Hundreds of ghosts? Each of them capable of possession, and according to Danny, much more?!

"How has the Justice League not heard of this kind of thing?" Jon tried, but failed to hide the slight shiver in his voice.

Danny shrugged. "Guess they dismissed our calls as pranks or something."

"Your father wishes to unleash the legions of undead upon Gotham?!" Damian stepped forward, getting up in Danny's face.

"Woah woah woah, chill out man. Mom and Dad actually learned from the last time and built like eight layers of shielding around the portal, not that it'll be necessary since it won't work anyway."

"And why are you so sure? Did you sabotage it? For whwat purpose would you tamper with your own parents' inventions?"

"Dami, maybe we shouldn't jump to conclusions." Jon said, trying to pull Damian away without any obvious use of super strength.

"Yeah Dami, I'm just a kid, like you. You see an engineering degree anywhere that can be used to sAboTAgE anything? 'Cause I don't."

Damian glared at the other boy for just a second longer, before Jon was finally able to pry him off the poor kid. "I'm so sorry, Damian's just kinda intense sometimes, he really means well I-"

"It's fine. Besides, I'm bored as hell over here too. Since we're about sixty-nine million years below the average age of this place. what say we hang and laugh?" Danny got up and stretched his legs.

"Sure! Hey you seen the oven that's supposed to bake pizza in under ten seconds? Come on, Damian spotted this amazing design flaw, you just have to come with."

As Jon dragged them away, Damian muttered under his breath, deviously. "Good job, Kent, escorting Fenton to a secondary location for further questioning."

~~~~~ They spent the next hour roaming the convention centre, laughing and snorting their lungs out at the inventions, and the rich suckers lapping them up. Although Damian was initially as frosty as Superman's ice breath, Danny's mention of a glowing green ghost dog managed to gain his attention, if veiled behind suspicion and accusation. Looks like no squeezing was necessary, but the idea of a whole town of magical beings that possessed as easily as they breathed still made Jon nauseous.

"My parents actually get me keep him, without the threat of dissection, it's amazing!"

"Your parents dissect animals?" Damian spat out with all the hatred of a thousand dying suns.

"Ghosts, and they never have. Kept getting away. For some reason. Nowadays they're more into non-invasive study. and by non-invasive I mean totally invasive of things like privacy, and alone time." Danny grumbled.

"I feel you, man." Imagine having a dad with super hearing. Or growing up with the world's greatest stalkers.

"Privacy is an illusion." Damian being normal challenge IMPOSSIBLE

They had no more time to banter before Dr Fenton's booming voice echoed across the centre.

"AND NOW FOR THE MOMENT YOU'VE ALL BEEN WAITING FOR, THE SHOWCASE OF THE FENTON PORTAPORTAL AND THE LATEST IN FENTON SURVEILLANCE TECHNOLOGY, BEHOLD!"

"Just watch." Danny said.

Jack slammed his fist upon the on button, which was thankfully on the outside this time. The circular rings around the portal spun and spun, creating an electric whirring sound building up to a crescendo...

Only for the portal to fizzle out, as the crowd's jeers reached a fever pitch.

"Told you so."

Danny's triumph lasted not for another minute, however, when his body shivered and a cold mist broke through his lips. "Shit." He muttered. At least Jon and Damian were looking away. Danny's eyes scanned the crowd. Jack Fenton's sorrow was wiped away as the sensors in his suit came to life. He whipped out a comically large ecto-gun, shouting. "I KNEW IT! WE'RE UNDER ATTACK FROM GHOSTS!!!"

Danny needed look no longer as piercing laughter filled the auditorium. A swarm of green bats descended upon the centre, causing chaos and confusion. Those among the crowd sensible enough to run for the exits found themselves halted by bars locking them shut. Jack opened fire, but was overwhelmed by dozens of ghost bats.

Danny looked for anywhere he could silp away and transform. Damian and Jon did the same. None of them could an opportunity, as two pairs of hands swept them off their feet, and bindings tied them together. Their eyes widened as they gazed upon their captors. Two men adorned with white face paint. One in a gothic waistcoat, the other with green hair and a purple suit.

The infamous Joker, and the not as infamous Freakshow, both in hysterical laughter.

"I really gotta give it to you Danny-boy, that sabotage act you pulled really put us for a loop!" The Joker gasped out between laughs. He pulled out a remote with a large red button. "But I, the Joker, have out-sabotaged your sabotage! AHAHAHAH"

The Joker pressed the buttom, causing the portal to roar back to life.

"Damian!" Bruce Wayne yelled.

"Jon!" Clark Kent shouted.

"DANNY BOY!" Jack cried out, but they were too late to stop the swarm of bats carrying all three boys through the newly reactivated portal, and were too late to follow before the whole thing blew to pieces in a fiery halo.

To be continued....

#dpxdc #dcxdp #danny phantom x dc #danny phantom #danny fenton #crack #prompt answer #jon kent #jack fenton #damian wayne #shenanigans #supersons #ghost zone #infinite realms #good parents jack and maddie #we need more good parents content where they still try to shoot danny #it needs to happen #i am an amateur writer plz forgive me #I am a stoopid so sowwy for any OOC ;-;

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arc-misadventures · 5 months

Note

NNN: Jaune and Jessica bet their teams they can last NNN.....how do they do?

NNN: J

Jaune: I can totally beat, NNN. Just you watch me!

Blake: You really think you can do that?

Jaune: Easily!

Blake: What makes you think that? I mean, Jessica is just a cuter version of, Ruby…

Ruby: You take that back!

Blake: Can you really deny, Green Ruby?

Ruby: Green what?!

Jaune: First off, Ruby’s nothing like Jessica.

Ruby: That’s right! I’m way better than that goblin!

Blake: How so?

Jaune: First off. She’s a legal loli, Ruby isn’t.

Blake: That’s true.

Ruby: Excuse me what?

Jaune: And, Jessica has magic powers with her ring. Wait, Ruby has magical powers with her eyes… They’re both cute as a button. Both have a passion for heavy ordanence. Both are small. One is green, the other is red, making them complimentary colours. Have small chest, but full butts. Wow… It’s like they’re twins…

Blake: So if you imagine, Ruby as, Jessica, would that make you dealing with, NNN hard?

Jaune: No, she’d just be, Red Jessica then.

Ruby: I’d be red what?!

Blake: But, don’t you want to… ‘tap dat ass?’

Jaune: I do, but I’d rather tap the older Jessica ass, than the younger one. Well, 60/40 in favour of which, Jessica I’d like to tap.

Jaune: …

Jaune: First…

Blake: Older Jessica?

Jaune: Yeah, back in her world she’s in her twenties, she looks like a completely different person. I bet, Ruby will just look a few inches taller when she’s older.

Ruby: Take that back!

Blake: What does she look like, this older, Jessica?

Jaune: Here’s a photo she sent me…

Blake: Damn~! Puppetry was kind to her~!

Ruby: I bet I’ll get a better figure then her.

Jaune: See! I want to tap that! But, I can’t…

Blake: Why not?

Jaune: She’s back in her world, and I’m here… Can’t lose, NNN when there’s nothing to lose to…

Blake: But, I thought she was coming back?

Jaune: She promised she would, but even she doesn’t know when she could… So, yeah…

Blake: So, what are you going to do then?

Jaune: Wait, and see. What else can I do?

Ruby: You can fun with me instead~?

Jaune: Not now, Red Jessica.

Ruby: I am not, Green Ruby!?!

Blake: What do you think, Jessica is doing now?

Jaune: Probably saving the world, that’s what heroes do after all.

~~~~~~

Meanwhile in the, DC RWBY Universe

~~~~~~

Jessica: FIX THAT FUCKING MACHINE ALREADY!!!

Jessica was not saving the world at the moment, she was currently losening her mind with unbridled lust, and blinding rage.

For she was currently being restrained by her friends, Powegirl, Wonderwoman, Superman, and Hal Gordon of the Green Lantern Corp. At least they we’re trying to; One would think three of the, Leagues strongest members could restrain a girl in her mid twenties with relative ease. However, they didn’t take into consideration what a highly horny girl, who was frustrated to no end because she was so hormonal could do to a person.

For in, Jessica’s, hormonal rage, for the lack of a better description, had received both a ring from the, Star Sapphire Core, and the Red Lantern Core. Making an already powerful Lantern exponentially more powerful, and terrifying.

Clark: Hurry up! We’re barely holding her back!

Victor: We’re working as fast as we can!

A multi coloured blast of energy soon shot past, Cyborg’s head, narrowly missing the trans-dimensional gateway thar he, and Batman we’re working on repairing.

Bruce: Hal, block her energy blasts. If one those hits the machine it will be destroyed.

Hal: I’m trying, but I’m fighting three on one!

Kara: Have you called any, Lanterns for back up!

Hal: I called, but it will take them a while to come here.

Another multi coloured blast ripped past, Hal’s head, and nearly impacted one of the stations windows, but the blast doors quickly shut as the, Flash hit the emergency button to activate the blast doors.

Wally: Okay, that was close. Okay, can someone explain to me what’s going on?

Diana: She’s been cursed by, Aphrodite!

Wally: What?

Kara: She decided to do the, NNN challenge. But, that only made her think of that, Jaune kid she’s been talking about, and now she’s just really, really horny!

Clark: And, angry!

Wally: Oh… Well, not to sound vulgar, but can’t she just… do it, and relax then?

Kara: You certainly never been with a woman before have you?!

Wally: Hey!

Bruce: Enough. Just hold on a little longer, we’ve nearly finis…?!

Victor: Oh shit!

Hal: AHHH?!

Another blast of energy hit, Hals shield, only this time it broke through, and slamming into, Hal, and sending him flying only for the bolt of energy to fly though the air, and crash into the machine. It surged with new found power from within, suddenly it blast upward into a multi coloured hole in the ceiling. The ensemble of heroes stared at the whole before something fell through it, and hit the ground with a heavy thud. Before the portal, as it seemed to be suddenly vanished.

They look down upon the ground to see a suit of armour slowly rise from the ground. It’s once polished clean white metal, now was stained by streaks of rust. The knight looked down at his hands before a weary sigh escaped its lips. It’s hands reached up, and removed its helmet, revealing a mane of blond hair tied in a wolf tail. It looked down at the helmet in it’s hands before letting a deep sigh escape his lips. One burdened by the weight of the world, and tired of carrying such a burden around without rest.

: I see… I’m the, Rusted Knight once again… peachy. But… where am I? This clearly isn’t the, Ever After… So where is it?

The figure was about to turn around, when they heard a series of mechanical shifts, and the whirling of engines. He had the stinking feeling he was in a place he wasn’t supposed to be.

Bruce: Who are you, how did you get here?

: I don’t know how I got here, a portal appeared below my feet, and I fell through it, and suddenly I appeared here. As for who I am, well… In this form, I was called the, Rusted Knight. But, that was only in children’s fairytale. But, my real name is, Jaune Arc.

The knight held up it’s hands as it slowly turned around to face them, revealing a grizzled beard of golden hair, laced with white streaks. As he stood before them, he looked at them with a perplexed expression across his face as he stared at them in turn.

Jaune: Do I know you? You look familiar, at least some of you, have we met…? Wait… Jessica, is that you?

The trio was struggling to contain, the Tri-Coloured Lantern from her hormonal rage, but she suddenly went slack in their arms, as the knight fell through the portal. But, her breath quickened as she saw a grizzled old blond man appear before them.

Jessica: J-J-Jaune…? Is that really you?

Jaune: It’s really me my little nightlight.

Jaune smiled warmly, with a fatherly smile as if he was pleased to with what he saw before him. For him, being reunited with his girlfriend, even in such an unorthodox manner was quite pleasing to him. Jessica was also, extremely pleased to see her boyfriend again, she was however, going through a panic attack as she struggled to digest what she was seeing before her.

Jessica: J-J-Jaune’s here?! B-But it’s not, Jaune… This, Jaune is b-bigger! Taller! Those muscles?! And, the beard! That glorious beard! And, are those white streaks? J-Jaune’s a silver fox?! He’s a total daddy now! My Daddy now! Ah… Ah-ha…! Ahahahahahahaha?!

Everyone started looking at, Jessica in concern. Jaune was concerned that after finally reuniting with his girlfriend they would have had happy embrace, followed by a lovers kiss. But, here he was watching his girlfriend falling down into a mad fit of laughter.

For the rest of the, Justic League it was unsettling to see their friend go from stark raving mad, to looking like she was just dosed in, Joker laughing gas.

And, yet it all ended as fast as it began.

Jessica: Aaaaahhhh~!

(“Thud”)

Blood poured down, Jessica’s nose she she finally stopped laughing, before she promptly fainted, and fell upon the ground. Silence hung in the air as all turned to face their unexpected guest.

Jaune: Uhhh… Sorry?

Clark: All thing’s considered this was probably for the best.

Jaune: Okay…?

Kara: That’s, Jaune?!

Diana: he was a teenager when I last saw him, not like… this?!

Kara: Do you think, Jessica is open to sharing?

Jaune: So uhh… what now?

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