#it says ‘these things are not a healthy body’s normal experiences’ and ‘I wish I’d known that my pain was a medical issue with a variety of | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

justmeinadaze · 9 months

Text

I Miss the Misery Part 2 (Steve X You)

Part One Here

Warnings: Toxic Daddy Stevie (but he wants to be better)/ Slightly Toxic Fem sub reader, SMUT, dirty talk, rough play, daddy kink (cause im me), choking, spanking, degrading, Slight Fluff, she loves him and he loves her but they both struggle with their feelings, ANGST, Jealous Steve AND Reader, Steve gets drunk after a bad experience with his father (he talks about it; elaborated), They both try to verbally hurt each so they say mean things to each other ( they call each other names, bring up past behavior, etc.) , cliff hanger ending!

Word Count: 7058

It had been a couple of weeks since your incident with your ex Steve Harrington. When you came home that night your boyfriend was still up waiting for you. You talked things through like any normal couple would and that night you both went to bed happy. Well, he did. You laid there for hours replaying the nights events in your head.

You could still feel Steve’s hands on your hips where he clung to you as he thrust his big, thick cock into you roughly till your eyes rolled back. You could still hear his grunts and pants warming your ear as his sweaty body fell on top of yours.

But more than anything, you kept going back to the conversation after.

“Yeah, well, if we’re toxic then I’d rather go down with you than anyone else.”

“I just kept wishing they were you.”

“I feel like we can make this work.”

You had always believed the two of you could make your relationship work but the problem always was that he could never commit to it. He had you for two years in high school and he, quite literally, let you slip away. It wasn’t fair to you for him to think he could just show up one day and you’d drop everything to be with him especially when you knew it would end badly.

A strong hand reached out from the darkness of an open door and yanked you into the room before slamming it shut.

“What’s this I’m hearing about you going on a date with Ben Lomax?”, Steve asked sternly as he glared down at you.

“Well, hello to you to, Harrington. I hope you had a good weekend.”

“Don’t play with me, Y/N.”

“What do you care? We’re not dating right? I can go out with whoever I want to.”

Butterflies flutter in your stomach as you watch his jealously rise. You liked amping him up like this so he’d take what’s his.

“You’re mine, little girl.”

“Then claim me, Daddy. Make me yours.”

It felt so good having him take control the way he did even though you knew it wasn’t healthy. No… you couldn’t allow him to win this time. This time you needed to do what was right for you and Jacob. Rolling over onto your side, you wrapped your arms around his torso and pressed your face into his back, clinging to normality tightly as you finally drifted off to sleep.

***

“Hey, baby.”, your boyfriend grinned as you sat beside him at his desk and he handed you some items in a grocery bag. “Thank you for coming by. You know how my mom is. I’d give her back these things myself but this project…”

“I know, honey. You’ve been working really hard.”, you reply encouragingly as you softly smile.

The smell of his cologne hit you before the sound of his voice. Glancing down the hallway, you watched as Steve argued with someone over the phone as he sauntered confidently towards you both. Your body and attitude prepared for the battle that was sure to come but to your surprise he walked right past you as if you weren’t there. After angrily hanging up his phone, his face changed to a much softer demeanor as he grinned, opening his arms wide as a blond young lady eagerly jumped into them.

“That’s Mr. Harrington’s new girlfriend I hear.”, Jacob whispers. “She’s a lot younger than him but I guess that’s expected when you have all the money in the world.”

You hadn’t heard a word he said, the fury bubbling in your stomach up to your chest.

“I can play this game better.”

Fucking asshole. He wants to pretend I’m not here and try to make me jealous, go ahead! I’m not the same girl I was in high school. This won’t work.

“Baby? Are you ok?”

“Hm? Yeah, sweetheart. I’m fine, just tired.”

“I understand. Hey, tonight we’re meeting at the bar downtown. It’s just going to be the team here. Would you want to go?”

Shifting you gaze their way again, you watched as Steve beamed down at the girl before tenderly kissing her lips.

“Yeah, I think that sounds fun.”

########

“So Y/N, how is the new book coming along?”, Jacob’s coworker asked as you took a sip from the alcohol in your glass.

“Good, thank you. I’m having some writers block but it’s not a big deal. Not as big a deal as what you guys have been working on.”

“Yeah, thankfully we’re almost near the end.”, another girl at the table sighs. “Mr. Harrington has really helped us out. He’s been buying us lunch for the office every day.”

“And letting us leave early on Fridays so we can have a bit of a break. He stays in the office to make up the time.”

You couldn’t help but smile at their praise. Steve had always been a complete asshole but even during your relationship with him you saw the compassion and kindness that hid under the snark.

“Y/N? Honey, are you alright?”, he cooed as he sat on the bench beside you. His long fingers tenderly reached out to dry the tears that were still falling down your cheeks.

“I’m fine, Steve. You don’t have to…”, you tried to dismiss him as you waved your hand.

“I know I don’t have to. You know me. You know I don’t do anything I don’t want to.” Steve firmly grabbed your wrists and turned your body to face him a bit more. “Now, what’s going on, babe?”

“My, uh, my grandfather died.”

At your revelation, you began to cry harder and he collected you in his arms, pressing your head to his chest.

“Shit, Y/N. I’m so sorry. I know you two were really close. Everything’s ok, pretty girl. I’m right here.”

“Speak of the devil…Mr. Harrington! Hey! Why don’t you come sit with us?!”, one of Jacob’s friends shouted bringing you back to reality.

Steve Harrington was the devil indeed with how delicious he looked dressed in his jeans and black button up shirt. His signature smile blinded the table as he grabbed his dates arm and headed towards you.

“Hey guys. You don’t have to invite me. I’m sure you’re tired of dealing me for 40+ hours a week already.”

“Oh, come on. Join us. It’s no problem at all.”

The sound of your glass slamming into the table startled everyone including Steve as he finally gave you his attention.

“Yeah, Steven. Not a problem at all. Take a seat.”

His head ticked to the side in amusement before taking a seat and pulling his date onto his lap making you cringe in annoyance.

“Y/N apparently went to school with Mr. Harrington here.”, Jacob explained to his coworkers who were still fairly wide eyed at the way you addressed him.

“That’s pretty cool. You two were friends?”

“Nope. Hardly even knew each other. Right, Harrington?”, you sassed.

Turning away from you, he focused on the original question.

“I wouldn’t say friends. We definitely knew of each other. Everyone in Hawkins did with it being a small town and all.”

Throughout the rest of the night, you constantly fumed in his direction every time he opened his mouth. His hands constantly roamed his date’s skin driving you insane every time she would lean back and nuzzle her face into his neck. In retaliation you tried to do the same with Jacob but you knew that was a lost cause because he wasn’t very keen on the PDA.

You drank more and more until the world around you got hazy.

“How long have you two been together?”, someone asked as they gestured towards him and his date.

“Um, about two weeks I believe.”

“Hm. About how long she’s been in the world.”, you hiccupped as you knocked back a shot on the table. “I mean…look at you, Barbie. You’re basically a fetus.”

“Y/N.”, Jacob whispered. “That was rude.”

“No, no Jacob. It’s ok. I see she hasn’t changed much. Y/N here had kind of a reputation for being bratty at school.”

“And Steve Harrington had a reputation for being a man slut.”

“Alright, I think we’re going to go home. Come on, babe.”, you boyfriend said sternly, gripping your arm.

“How about you guys come to my house? It’s a lot closer and you can get her to bed so she can sober up.”, Steve replied casually.

“Oh, Mr. Harrington, we couldn’t impose.”

“I insist. Come on, honey.”, he grins as he slaps the girl’s ass playfully. “It was nice spending time with you guys. Jacob, just follow me.”

***

It took you awhile to catch your bearings when your groggy eyes opened and you realized you weren’t at home.

“Jacob?”

Glancing beside you, you noticed his peacefully sleeping frame beside you so you left him be as you got up to find a bathroom. Wherever you were it was a very nice place with the updated furnishings and new home smell.

It took you a moment to find a bathroom but after you did, you shut the door and ran the cool water over you face.

What happened last night? I remember Steve showing up at the bar…a dizzying car ride…lips on mine…angry eyes. Maybe Jacob was upset for how I behaved. I need to make it up to him. He doesn’t deserve me acting like a drunk fool in front of his friends.

Sighing, you opened the door to head back to bed but was met with a strong hand around your throat pushing you backwards into the bathroom and closing the door.

“Are we sober now, little girl? Good because I really want this to sink in.”, Steve growled as his face hovered above yours. “If you ever disrespect me like that again I’ll throw you over my knee and spank you till you can’t handle it. I don’t care where we are or if your fucking boyfriend is in the room. Do I make myself clear?”

“What…what…I don’t remember…”

“You don’t…don’t…remember?”, he mocked. “Well, let me refresh your memory. I told your idiot boyfriend to bring you back to my house so you could rest because you were insulting my girlfriend and embarrassing yourself in front of his coworkers. When we got here, I showed him my spare rooms and left you guys alone. While I was getting ready for bed myself, the door was open and you were on your fucking knees IN MY HOUSE sucking another man’s dick AND CALLING HIM DADDY!”, Steve scolded roughly in your ear through clenched teeth.

Finally gathering your faculties, you pushed at his chest causing him to release you but only long enough to invade your space again as his face hovered just above your own.

“I’M your Daddy.”

“Not anymore.”

“Oh? Did you also forget that you showed up at my office two weeks ago begging for my cock and calling me Daddy? Or was that some other pathetic little girl?”

“I wouldn’t be surprised with how many women you’ve fucked in your lifetime.”

“Said the whore. Let’s not forget how many guys you were with in Hawkins.”

“I wasn’t with anyone! I went on dates but the only person I ever fucked was you!”

“Yeah right. Do you expect me to believe that? Hell, you cheated on your boyfriend with me!”

“Like it matters if you believe me or not. Technically I was single in school. You couldn’t bother to be seen with me because I was fucking poor. Jesus. You say I’m pathetic but the truth is you are; a pathetic little daddy’s boy. Couldn’t even start or find a company of your own. You had to play sloppy seconds to his business!”

Steve’s palm covered your mouth roughly as he pushed you forcefully against the wall. His breathing became erratic as he heavily panted trying to control his temper. His eyes stared daggers into yours for what felt like forever till something in the air snapped and he replaced his hand with his lips.

It was a rough kiss fueled by anger and you felt your pussy flutter at the notion. Riled up Steve was always one of your favorite versions of him because he claimed what was his in the best way possible. This is what you wanted. You wanted him to realize that he hated the idea of you not being his and fought to have you by his side. The problem was he did claim you but never truly made you his.

Your arms pushed at his chest but his grip tightened as he held your wrists to your sides. Moving them to one hand, he utilized his now free palm to smack you before grabbing your cheeks with his fingers.

“Do you want to stop? Say the word and we’ll stop.”, he growled. “Answer me.”

“No.”

“No what?”

“No, I don’t want you to stop.”

“I didn’t think so.”

Aggressively, he turned you around and pushed your body against the sink as he moved aside your panties while freeing his cock from his boxers. After spitting into his hand and stroking it along his shaft, you both groaned as he guided himself into you promptly setting a rough pace.

“Baby?”

Your eyes widen at the sound of your boyfriend’s voice on the other side of the bathroom door and you see Steve smirk from his reflection in the mirror.

“Y-Yeah?”

“Are you ok? I woke up and you weren’t there.”

The man inside you slowed his rhythm, dragging his length pleasantly along your tight walls before slamming himself back into your pussy making your eyes roll as your nails dug into the arm he had around your stomach.

“I-I’m okay, Jacob. Ahhh… I’ll be right there, sweetheart.”

“Yeah, you will, baby girl. You’ll—mmm—crawl back in beside him full of my cum like the fucking whore you are.”, Steve whispers, his lips attaching to your neck as your head falls against his shoulder.

“Okay. Are you sure you’re all right?”

Picking up his pace again, his cock overwhelmed your senses as you tried to control yourself from screaming his name.

“YES! I’m fine. I’ll be right there!”

“Alright, honey. I love you.”

Steve’s eyes met yours in the mirror, softening slightly when he saw pain flash through them.

“I love you to.”

He knew you weren’t saying it to your boyfriend but to him, however, Jacob thinking your love was meant for him infuriated Steve as he spanked your ass hard before wrapping both arms around you to hold you still as he slammed his lower half into your own.

“Who’s your Daddy, little girl?”

“You are, Steve, please.”

“Say it again so I know you fucking understand.”

“You are, Daddy. Please. Let me cum. I’ll—fuck—I’ll be a good girl. I promise.”

“No you won’t but that’s ok. I don’t mind putting you in your place.”

As his fingers find their way to your clit, you bite your bottom lip to stifle the loud moan that wants to break free. Placing your arms and hands over his own, you cling to him as your body trembles and you cum hard around him. His rhythm falters and you hear him grunt in your ear before you feel his release spill inside of you.

Steve pants as his softening cock pulls out of your aching hole and tucks himself back into his boxers as he takes a seat on the edge of the tub. Maybe it was the headspace you were still in or just seeing him look so upset hit that soft spot in your heart but you couldn’t help it when you lowered yourself to your knees and crawled to his side, placing your head on his thigh as you hugged his legs.

“I’m sorry I called him Daddy.”

His large palm reached out to pet your head making you sigh as you closed your eyes.

“No, you’re not. Yeah you were drunk but your subconscious definitely wanted to hurt me and that would be the way to do it. It’s not like I didn’t do the same thing by bringing a young, beautiful girl around. I knew she’d piss you off.”

“Why do we have to be this way to each other, Steve?”

“I think the real question, sweetheart, is why do we like it?”

“Why do I like it so much with you?”, you whisper. As your tears begin to fall, he leans down to collect you in his arms and places you on his lap. “I tried, whatever the fuck this is, with other men and every time I got hurt. They were you times 10. Then I met Jacob and—”

“He’s the exact opposite.”

“And not in a good way.”, you sigh as you caress his face with your palm. “Steve, I didn’t have sex with anyone else when we were in school. The first time I was every with someone who wasn’t you was after I left. I hated it… he was too rough and almost every conversation we had was a fight.” Turning his face towards you, you tenderly kiss his forehead. “I swear, I never called any of them Daddy. They would beg me to but it always felt wrong. Only you ever knew how to take care of me like that. I just wish you could have taken care of me in every other way.”

After softly kissing his lips, you crawled off his lap and headed back to bed to curl up in your boyfriend’s arms that you wished were Steve’s.

##################

Another week went by in uneventful domestic bliss as you continued to be the best girlfriend you could. Today Jacob and his coworkers were celebrating finishing the project they had been working on with a camping trip up north. He had invited you to come along but after what happened you thought it best to stay put. You also weren’t really a fan of sleeping outdoors without AC but you kept that little tidbit to yourself.

You utilized the alone time to work on your novel and get things done around the house but after a couple of hours, you found yourself extremely bored. Throwing on your jacket and grabbing your keys, you headed to a bar down the way ordering the strongest drink you could think of.

Once again, the smell caught your attention first before the snarky laugh that followed.

“Of course. Of course. Of fucking course, YOU of all people would be here.”, Steve giggled drunkenly as he knocked back his beverage and signaled the bartender for a refill.

He looked completely disheveled, his hair a mess due to his fingers running frustratingly through it. The suit jacket he had worn was hanging on the back of the chair while his white button up shirt was untucked and the sleeves were rolled up to his elbows.

“Steve? What happened?”

“Like you care.”

You should have walked away; left him there to wallow by himself but this nagging in your stomach wouldn’t allow you to as your worry for him took control.

“I do care. Come on, Steve, talk to me.”

Spinning in his seat, he leaned his side obnoxiously over the bar as his glassy eyes met yours.

“What happened. Hm…Y/N wants to know what the fuck happened. Well, we finished our project at work today. Managed to sign a huge fucking client worth millions! But does that impress my father? Oh, no. Fucker has to fly up here just to berate me and scold me on what we need to do next. This isn’t my first day on the job. I’ve watched that asshole work my entire life and he can’t even let go for one God damn second to see I did something good!”

“You’re right. I remember he was always hard on you. I saw him scream at you once after a game even though the team won and you made the most points. He said you didn’t try hard enough.” He nods at the memory, chugging the content of the glass and again asking for more. You discreetly signaled to the bartender that this was the last one as you focus your attention back on the broken man in front of you. “I hope you know he’s wrong. I know how hard you worked on this.”

“Yup. I know, Y/N. I’m not a fucking idiot. Why are you even here? I’m toxic remember?”

“You are but that doesn’t mean I want anything bad to happen to you. Let me take you home.”

“Fuck you. I can fucking take myself home.”, he growls, finishing the last of his beverage.

“Ok. Can you at least text me and let me know you got home safely?”

After rubbing his shoulder comfortingly, you put on your jacket and pay for your drink but as you turn to leave, a warm palm abruptly grabs your wrist.

“Y/N, um… C-Can you come home with me? I promise I won’t make a move or anything. I just… don’t want to be alone.”

***

“Oh shit!”, he laughs as he falls through the door after turning the key.

“Where’s your girlfriend tonight?”, you ask as you guide him towards his bedroom, holding his waist as he stumbles from side to side.

“Girlfriend? Oh, you mean Barbie?”

“That’s not really her name is it?”

Steve snorts as he chuckles, throwing himself onto the mattress and throwing his arm over his eyes.

“No…it’s, um, Tiffany. No, Erica…Fuck, I don’t know. I haven’t seen her since you and your idiot spent the night.”

After you flashed him a sassy smirk he didn’t see, you began getting him ready for bed starting with his shoes. You thought he had finally passed out but when you grabbed his arm to take off his watch and class ring from college, his eyes opened, and he tilted his head to watch you.

“Where can I put these?”, you murmur with a soft smile.

Silently, he gestures towards the bedside table and you reach for the drawer to delicately place them inside. Something catches your eye, however, as you pull out a well, worn picture of the two of you in high school. Steve rarely ever took photos with you back then. Nothing the two of you ever did was ever genuinely photo worthy since you two were sneaking around most of the time. When this image was taken, you were supposed to take pictures for a class project and brought the camera with you to his house after your photoshoot with your group.

“Why do you have a camera? I thought you wanted to be a writer.”, he asks after noticing it in your bag and taking it out.

“Oh, so you ARE listening to me when I talk?”

“A ha ha. You’re so funny, Y/N.”

“It’s for a class project we’re working on.”, you giggle.

“Is the project sexy basketball captains?”, Steve joked as he held the device high in the air away from your reach. “Handsome Men at Hawkins High? Oh! Or Gods in Bed?”

“No. It’s a project about Hawkins jerks who steal stuff and are TERRIBLE in bed.”

You playfully tackle him onto the mattress and lightly wrestle with him till he has both arms around you with your face against his chest. Gently tugging your hair, his lips land on your forehead before traveling down to your own for a tender kiss.

Holding his arm high above you both, he presses his cheek to your own as you both smile and the flash blinds your eyes.

“Where did you get this?”, you whisper as he bends towards you and squints his eyes at the image.

“Ummmm… stole it from your room…snuck in.”, Steve sighs as he rolls onto his back and closes his eyes. “You were…gone…vanish from…Hawkins.”

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you turn off his bed side lamp but as you begin to stand, his slurred voice fills your ears.

“Please don’t go…”

Grabbing a throw blanket, you toss it over you both as you curl up into his side and rest your palm on his chest, letting the comforting rhythm of his breathing lull you to sleep.

############

The feeling of lips on your shoulder causes your eyes to flutter open.

You had rolled over in the night and were currently facing Steve’s bland, gray bedroom wall as soft hands roamed your skin. Pretending to still be asleep, you melted into his touch as you pushed your back into his chest. Fingers gently caressed your stomach and up your shirt as his mouth continued to travel towards your neck.

Quickly moving some of your hair away from your face, Steve kissed your cheek as his palm massaged your breasts briefly before gliding back down to your stomach. You could feel his eyes watching you as you subtly moaned, the bulge in his slacks pressing against your clothed ass.

You allowed your lower half to grind against him as his groan grumbled low in your ear. Moving one of his arms above your head, you reached up to intertwine your fingers with his as his other hand slipped through the waistband of your pants and under your panties.

“Daddy.”, you panted as he guided his middle and ring fingers inside of your core.

Steve didn’t respond verbally, his teeth gently grazing your earlobe as he rolled his hips against you matching the pace of his digits.

“Fuck, yes. Please… Talk to me, baby.”, you beg.

Again, he doesn’t answer, releasing your hand to wrap his arm around your chest and hold you to him as he moved his fingers so fast between your legs that the sound of your slick filled the room.

Your body trembles against his as the dam breaks and your nails dig into his skin as you cum.

Rolling over on to your back, your eyes try to find his but he hastily diverts them as he focuses on pulling down your pants. Gripping his chin, you force him to look at you.

“Talk to me, baby.”, you repeat.

“Why are you here?”

His question genuinely threw you off as you scanned his face searching for a reason.

“You asked me to. You said you didn’t want to be alone.”

“Yeah but WHY are you here, Y/N? You left me, you have a boyfriend, you think I’m a bad person yet you’re here.”

“I thought you wanted to be with me. That’s why you said what you said a few weeks ago. Why do you care? I’m just the girl you fuck to feel better right? RIGHT?!”

“THAT’S RIGHT!”, Steve shouts but even he realizes he sounds insincere. “You should go home.”

“What if I don’t want to go home.”

“I wasn’t asking. Get your shit and get out of my house.”

“No.”

Angrily, he rolled out of bed and grabbed your ankle, tugging you to the edge of the bed. Before he could take hold of your arm to lift you, you smacked his cheek blind siding him as you ran out of the bedroom and towards a guest room with the intent of shutting him out.

Steve was much faster than you, wrapping his arm around your waist and lifting you off your feet as he carried you down the hall towards the stairs.

“Why do you do this, Steve?! Why do you push me away?!”

“Because, little girl, like you said, I’m toxic. I’m just like my father and I’m sorry to say, honey, you aren’t at the level of my mother. You’re the side piece trash my dad throws out when he’s done.”

As soon as he reaches the bottom step, you take hold of the banister and manage to wiggle out of his hold, running towards the kitchen to allow for the barrier of the island between you two.

“Said the man who has a picture of me in his nightstand. It seemed pretty worn too, Harrington. How long have you had it? How many times have you taken it out to look at over the years?”

“I look at it when I need a reminder of how low I sunk when it came to women back then. Thankfully I do much better now.”

“Oh yeah? Like Barbie? Wait, I mean Tiffany…Erica?”, you snicker sarcastically. “Couldn’t even bother to remember her name. Do you remember any of their names? Hell, was I the longest ‘relationship’ you had?!”

He lunges to the side but you duck out of the way just in time as you move around the island.

“Oh shit, Steven. I was wasn’t I? Even in school you had all these women at your side but they were never yours. Why is that? Because if you had been in a real relationship, I never would have continued whatever the fuck we had. Didn’t have the balls to?”

You watch his face with immense satisfaction as his eyes get darker, filling with even more fury.

“And that’s what pisses you off the most, huh? You say I’m the side piece but the fact of the matter is you are… and that scares you. I could throw you away just like your dad did to his whores… just like he does with you… Yet instead of standing up for yourself and claiming me; proving to me you can be a good man; you act like a child. You couldn’t even tell your daddy to fuck off which is why you went to the bar to get wasted.”

Shaking your head, you size him up and down with your eyes in disgust.

“You’re not my Daddy, little boy.”

The calmness that washed over his face frighted you a bit, signaling to you that you needed to tread carefully. You had only ever seen him this way once before back in high school…the first time.

“Steve?”

“Jesus fucking Christ. What the fuck do you want?!”, the boy growls from his place on the bleachers in the now empty gymnasium.

“I don’t mean to bother you. I don’t know if you remember me but we have a couple of classes together—”

“Wonderful. Go away.”

His gruff tone shakes you a bit but you were determined to say what you wanted to say.

“Ok. I, um, I just wanted to tell you that I heard what your parents…your dad… said and I just wanted you to know that…he’s wrong. I think you did amazing out there tonight. Honestly, I think you do awesome every game but…”

The jock’s angry yes shoot up to look at you as he scans you over.

“Yeah. Thanks…”

“Y/N. No problem. I’ll, uh, I’ll leave you be now.”

Reaching out abruptly, his hand grips your wrist and yanks you in one motion on to his lap so you were straddling his waist facing him. You should have gasped and hit him, called him a pervert or asshole, and immediately got away from him but the way he was looking up at you with those heart broken eyes…

“You’re a very nice pretty girl, aren’t you?” You blushed at his calm, seductive tone as your hands balanced yourself on his shoulders. “Can I return the favor?”

He fucked you right there on the bleachers not caring if any one saw either of you or if you were embarrassed by someone walking in and catching you two. Steve used you till he was spent and he wasn’t gentle by any means. You loved it and he knew it as he smirked up or down at you every time you came.

He didn’t chase you this time as you left the kitchen and ran down the hall. You didn’t know why until the man rounded a sudden corner and wrapped his palm around your throat. Pushing you backwards, he guided you towards the sofa before taking a seat and hurling your front half over his lap.

You squirmed as he held you down, yelping when his hand came down hard on your behind.

“It’s been too long since you’ve been punished properly, little girl. Between the disrespect, attitude, and being a little whore, I think it’s time I put you in your place.” You wiggled against his hold but he was firm as one of his arms pressed into your shoulder blades. “Stop moving!”, Steve shouted as his hand came down harder than before.

“Ow…Steve…”

You yelped as his palm came down again a couple more times.

“It seems, Y/N, that you keep forgetting who I am but don’t worry. We’ll make sure it sticks this time. If this is the only way to get through to you, so be it.”

“Steve…please…OW!”, you whine when he spanks you again.

“Don’t act like this isn’t turning you on. I bet if we pull off these panties, you’d be dripping like the little disobedient slut you are.”

After hitting you again, he yanks down your underwear making you groan as he slides his finger through your slick.

“See? Didn’t I just make you cum? Look how wet you are. I told you before, honey. Pissing each other off is the shit that really gets us going.”

Minutes passed but it felt like hours as he continued to spank you turning you into a sobbing mess. Your ass was extremely sore and marked up enough that you would need to come up with an excuse if Jacob saw them.

“Steve, please…”, you begged. “How many more?”

“However…many…more…it…takes!”, he shouted near your ear as he hit your behind between each word. “Who am I, Y/N?”

Circling his thumb along your clit, he didn’t allow you a moment to breathe as he built you up and your brain blanked.

“Answer me, little girl!”

“DADDY! You’re Daddy, Steve.”

“Damn right. I’m not some side piece you throw away. I’m fucking Daddy.”, he growled. “People like you and my parents think I’m nothing but I’m NOT. Women scream my name almost every night. I’m the CEO of a huge firm. I make a ton of fucking money. Why isn’t that enough, huh?!”

As his palm connected with your red, bruised skin, you came drenching his lap with your arousal. His chest rose and fell in heavy breaths as he tried to calm down, Steve’s gaze shifting to you when he heard your small sniffles.

As carefully as he could, he lifted you up and turned you around till you were sitting properly on his lap with your face in the nook near his shoulder. While you continued to cry, his hands massaged your arms while he tenderly played with your hair.

“What color are you at right now, honey?”

One of your arms rose to circle around his neck as you softly kissed his skin.

“Green, Daddy.”, you whisper.

Steve curtly nodded as his eyes remained forward while he continued to pet your head, allowing you time to come back down.

“Are you ok?”, he asked in a tone you had never heard from him before. He sounded almost…afraid. Lifting your head, your palm reaches for his cheek and turns his face so his eyes can meet yours. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to cross a line. I didn’t mean to…hurt you.”

Placing your forehead on his, he sighs as your fingertips run along the slight stubble over his chin and up to his lips.

“I don’t mind you hurting me.”

“You’re not supposed to lie to me, baby girl, remember?”, he smirks as a breathy laugh escapes his chest. “You like when I’m rough with you in bed. You like pushing me to rile me up just like I do with you to see if you will because I know you’re a fucking brat.”

Steve’s grin grows as you blush, knowing he’s telling the truth.

“The problem is you and I don’t know where the line is. It always seeped out into our day to day and into my insecurities. That’s what you don’t like. You don’t like me using you and breaking your heart. Just like I don’t like watching you cry. Not like this anyway.”

Lifting you into his arms, he carried you back to his bedroom and into the bathroom where you marveled at his massive clawfoot tub. After getting the bath ready, he holds your hand as he guides you but you pause before you sit.

“Will you sit with me, Daddy?”

“Yeah, honey, I can do that.”

After waiting patiently for him to disrobe, you allow him to climb in behind you and take a seat as you lean against his chest. His large palms run along your shoulders and down your arms making you sigh as you tilt back to kiss his cheek.

“You were always enough for me, Steve Harrington.” His eyes meet your own as you continue. “The problem was I was never enough for you.”

“Y/N, I’m moving to New York.” Your eyes widen as move away from him and scan his face for lies. “I was only supposed to be here for this project and then run the company as a whole from over there. I…I never expected to see you again. I…”, he pauses as he tries to collect his thoughts. “I want you to come with me.”

“Steve…I can’t…”

“Yes you can. I feel like we can work on this if we can be together. I know we can learn the line and just keep this in the bedroom without going too far and being toxic.”

“We had so many more problems than you being jealous and screaming things at me.”

“Y/N, I don’t want anyone else. I’m not the same guy I was. I won’t cheat. I won’t hurt you. I’ll claim you… I DO claim you. You’re mine, baby.”

“You just told me an hour ago that I’m just the girl you fuck and I should get the fuck out of your house.”

“I’m not perfect. Truth be told, like you said, I AM afraid of losing you again so I lashed out. I didn’t mean what I said.”

“I don’t believe you.”, you whisper.

“Then why are you here?”

“You said—”

“No. You’re your own woman with your own free will. You still could have gone home. You still love me and I love you, sweetheart…so fucking much.”

His arms wrapped around you, hugging you to him as you began to disassociate. You did still love him; you always had even after you left but you left for a reason. You stayed away for a reason. If you and he were having this discussion 5 years ago you would know immediately that he was just doing whatever he could to appease you without really hearing you and hurt you again a few weeks later. What killed you was if this was 5 years ago and he said he was moving you would have said yes without thinking.

Now you were overthinking and fear was taking over.

What if things just went back to the way they were? He seems sincere but a lot of his behavior has been the same. But he said he wanted to work on that and with me. Steve said he was finally ready to claim me and that he loved me…

But what about Jacob? He’s been such a caring and patient good man. I can’t hurt him like this especially if there’s a chance Steve could hurt me again.

You should have voiced your concerns to him and talked about it like adults. You should have sat on his couch and heard out his plans for success when it came to your relationship together. You should have listened and expressed everything you needed to but you didn’t.

“You knew what this was…”

Steve’s entire demeanor stiffened as you whispered the words he screamed at you the night before you left.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. I didn’t quite catch that. Do you have the balls to say it louder?”

Rising to your feet, you grabbed a nearby towel, wincing when it grazed your behind as you wrapped it around your body.

“I said you knew what this was. It’s not my fault you caught feelings.”

He laughed to himself as he climbed out of the tub allowing the water to drench his bathroom as he headed for the bedroom.

“Keeping going, honey. But really twist the knife and make it hurt. That’s what it will take for what you’re doing to work.” Grabbing your clothes off the floor, he tossed them in your direction as your eyes narrowed. “You’re trying to hurt me, right? To push me away because you’re scared of actually taking that leap and giving me a chance?”

Your glassy eyes shifted away from him as you threw your shirt over your head and pulled on your underwear.

“Because that’s what I did.” You froze as he continued, slowly moving your way as he spoke. “Why do you think I fucked Lori that night? Y/N, you told me you loved me and it scared the hell out of me. I was a popular, rich, Harrington… I was supposed to become my father. I was supposed to cheat, run a business, and make a ton of money by any means necessary.”

Stopping at your side, his fingers gripped your chin forcing you to turn and look at him.

“All I wanted to do was run away with you… but I panicked and hurt you instead causing you to run away without me. Y/N, I knew I fucked up when I climbed through your window and you were gone. I lost the one person that actually gave a damn about me and who I genuinely cared about. I’d like another chance and I promise you won’t regret it.”

“I already do.”, you murmured as you buttoned your jeans and began walking down his stairs towards his front door.

“Oh, Y/N?”, he called nonchalantly.

“What, Steven!?”, you shout as you glare up at his still naked frame leaning over the second-floor banister.

“You forgot your phone.”, he says calmly flashing you the screen that was currently illuminating a picture of you and your boyfriend as his call came through. Panic flowed through your entire body as his thumb moved the green dot.

“Y/N’s phone, this is Steve Harrington.”

####################

@daysinthephoenix @sophiejayne-illustrations713 @livosssblog

#steve harrington #joe keery #stranger things #steve harrington smut #steve harrington stranger things #steve harrington angst #joe keery smut #joe keery fanfiction #stranger things fanfiction #toxic!steve harrington #mean steve #fan fiction #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x y/n smut #spotify #Spotify

158 notes · View notes

frozenjokes · 2 months

Text

GoodTimesWithScar Is An Obnoxious And Quite Frankly, Baffling Customer.

[1/6] Next / Ao3 Link

It was a slow day at the Town Centre market, but that wasn’t particularly unusual for Impulse, especially since his stand tended to be more out of the way. He and Skizz had been so excited to rent the little thing out all those years ago, when the prospect of growth and wealth was still a reachable fantasy.

“Everyone starts somewhere, and hey, maybe we’re starting a tad late, but we’ve got our little forge and a roof over our heads, so I’d say we’re doing pretty well for ourselves!” Skizz had said, eyeing the other, more favorable booth locations hungrily. “Yeah, we’ll get there.”

“Sure, if we get really good at this really fast,” Impulse huffed, giving Skizz’s shoulder a healthy shove. “Remind me why I let you talk me into a trade profession so late in life? Most of these people have been doing this since they were kids.”

“Of course!” Skizz never got tired of reminding him, responding with the same energy as he had the first time Impulse voiced his doubts, “It’s because you’re miserable! Well, were miserable, because your new life starts today!”

“I thought it started when I quit my old job? Or when you first showed me how to work the forge? Or when I got started on the paperwork for this stand? Or-”

“Many new beginnings! Exciting, isn’t it?” Skizz sighed contentedly, resting his hands behind his head, “Oh yeah, this is gonna be great.”

And it’s not that it wasn’t great, even all these years later. It was fine . It was more than fine! Impulse loved working in the forge with Skizz, even if Skizz wasn’t particularly talented at the trade and Impulse didn’t have enough experience to feel competent at the job. He enjoyed feeling challenged as well as some of the creative freedom he had now, especially opposed to the monotony of the ocean where he fished the same seas for hours in the overbearing sun. Even still, sometimes he missed the security of the repetition. Impulse had a good idea of how much he’d catch, how much he’d make at the end of the day, and if money got tight, he could just put in more hours! Maybe that’s why he had gotten so depressed in the first place; nothing to look forward to but the same seas every hour of every day, doing the same mindless work.

Now, money was always tight. Always. Impulse had never had the luxury of a life without financial burdens, and typically, he wasn’t too bent out of shape about it. He hadn’t ever known anything else, and under normal circumstances, his social class didn’t cause too much earth-shattering stress.

But Skizz was sick. He always seemed to be sick lately, the instances where he was in perfect health getting to be few and far between. Skizz was sick, and medicine was too expensive.

It was a slow day at the Town Centre market, and Impulse found himself staring enviously at the other stalls, stewing in his own stress. He wasn’t as witty or charismatic as the typical shopkeep, his attempts at open charm usually falling flat and making him feel far worse. Was he more of a failure if he didn’t try at all? Skizz made it look so easy, drawing people in with a bright smile and friendly demeanor, as well as that odd half-suit he insisted made him look cool and strong . If you asked Impulse, he’d say it was silly to tear the sleeves off a suit and arguably unprofessional, but whatever Skizz was doing, it seemed to work, so Impulse didn’t tease him too much. Maybe he should be wearing a silly outfit to work. Maybe it would draw more people in. Skizz would probably get a kick out of that, but Impulse wasn’t sure if he was comfortable enough in his own body to make anything like that work. Impulse drummed his nails against the counter, wishing Skizz was here now.

“Hello there! Are you open?”

Impulse startled out of his daze, jumping to his feet, “Yes, yes we’re open,” he deflated, silently cursing his own awkwardness before sliding back onto his stool. He’d scare off potential customers by spacing out like that, even more so by jumping up whenever someone approached. However, the man didn’t seem to mind, leaning eagerly over the counter to get a better look at the various swords for sale. He was dressed nicer than Impulse was used to seeing in this part of town, with bright, clever eyes, typical of a young man with little life experience. No wonder he was here instead of another stall; he surely had enough coin to afford a higher quality weapon.

Shit, Impulse should be talking, shouldn’t he. Be friendly and all that.

“Are you well?” he tried, putting on his best customer service smile. Skizz always said he had a good smile for this type of thing. Nice face. Relaxed, if not a little strained. Disarming, like a sad, single dad. Impulse wasn’t quite sure how he felt about that last comparison, but Skizz was adamant it was a good thing. ‘Good for business! Ha!’

“Oh, never better!” the man said, leaning further over the counter, “You’ve got some nice stuff here! Very nice, very nice.” He sounded exceedingly fake.

Impulse quirked an eyebrow. “Right, well if you’ve got your eye on anything in particular, I can bring it up for you to hold and see how it feels. If it’s easier, you can come on back instead for a better look. I’d rather you not break the table.”

The man laughed, leaning forward on his hands before jumping back to his feet, “Not the table! Yes, yes, I’d love to get a closer look. See, I’ve just arrived here a couple days ago and I’m looking for a new beginning,” he kept talking as Impulse gestured for him to come back, “Now, this isn’t to say I don’t know my way around a sword, I do, but I’ve gotten bored with life back home, and I’m looking for a place with a little more action, you know?” He poked at one of the blades, jumping a little when he discovered it was sharp.

Impulse chuckled, “Usually people that ‘know their way around a sword’ know that end’s pointy.”

“Well a good swordsman doublechecks! Can I pick this one up?”

“Go for it.” Impulse watched with great amusement as the man attempted to lift his chosen weapon with one hand, an almost affronted look crossing his face when he discovered it was heavy. He glanced back, not unlike a cat caught in the act of doing something it shouldn’t, before doubling down, apparently deciding he could salvage his pride. Impulse had to stop himself from laughing when the man managed to pull the sword from the display, his arm shaking with the effort of holding it one-handed.

“Usually, you’d use both hands. I’m sure you’ve seen lots of show fights, but those guys are actors as well as swordsmen. You’re going to want something lighter if that’s what you’re looking for.”

“I- Well of course! Back home the swords are lighter, that’s all, I just got a bit confused.”

“Uh huh. What’s your name, stranger? Where’re you from?”

“My name? Why, I’m Scar! Scar Goodtimes! I don’t have many scars to show for the name, but with any luck, that’ll change real soon! And you?” Scar held out his hand, struggled for a moment with the sword, then put it hurriedly back on the display before reoffering his hand. Impulse shook it. Clearly this guy was an idiot, but if he had money to offer, who cared?

“You can call me Impulse. So you’re an entertainer then?”

“Not quite! The name is confusing, I know, but unrelated to any profession. Though, I wish it was! I love traveling and I especially love meeting new folks such as yourself!”

“Really? What do you do then?”

“Oh, you know. I’ve got myself a little boat to live in and I’ll occasionally take up cargo shipping for some extra cash, boat people around, the like. Though, I’m looking for something a little different now, and I’m planning to settle here for a while.”

“Interesting,” Impulse mused, eyeing Scar’s nice clothes. That money didn’t come from freelance work, not unless you had a nice reputation, and this kid couldn’t even hold a sword. Scar’s eyes narrowed just slightly, something appraising, with an intelligence that felt unnervingly unlike the person he’d just met. Did he know Impulse didn’t believe him? Impulse suddenly felt vulnerable, like the other man could see right through him. He backed up, just a step, but a step that didn’t go unnoticed. Scar cocked his head, almost innocently. Impulse tried not to frown. What was he looking for? A list of every crime Impulse had committed in the past year shot to the forefront of his mind. Not massive stuff mind you, but enough to make him sweat. Impulse hoped with all his will he didn’t have any counterfeit coins lying around. Was Scar here to scout him out? Catch him in the act?

“Are you a cop?” Impulse blurted, immediately mortified with himself. Scar blinked rapidly before doubling over in a massive laughing fit. Impulse put his hands over his face. “I don’t know why I said that. I’m sorry. Unless you are a cop, in which case, cool, great, I love the law.” Scar only laughed harder, Impulse feeling incredibly awkward as he waited for the other man to compose himself. Scar wheezed as he straightened up, eyes shining.

“I am deeply offended, hurt even, you have- I can’t believe it! Cop. I am not a cop!” Scar yelled in mock outrage, although his giggling dampened the effect. Impulse shrunk away as he spotted a couple wandering eyes drawn to the noise.

“aHah yes! Cops! We love cops. And the law. Yes,” Impulse struggled to save face, but Scar either didn’t hear or didn’t care.

“Impulse!” he bellowed, “I’ll say, that is probably the second or third worst thing anyone has ever called me. Why, I should just march right on out of here and back to my boat! Lick my wounds and cry about it! Cop. I can’t believe that.” Impulse shrunk back into his stand, hoping no one would see him. At this point, Scar leaving would probably be best for business, (and not getting arrested) but the man didn’t look like he actually planned on going anywhere.

“Do I even want to ask?” Impulse tried, and Scar lit up.

“Doctor! The worst by far!” Scar threw up his hands, though the facade of his frustration was dampened a little by the smile across his face. ‘Goodtimes’ seemed to suit Scar; he was certainly a performer.

“Doctor. Really.” Impulse didn’t bother to hide his skepticism, crossing his arms, “Wouldn’t be my first guess.”

“Well you don’t have to sound so surprised!” Scar huffed, tutting to himself then continuing in a tangentially related rant. Impulse rubbed the bridge of his nose. No winning with this guy then. Scar was an animated storyteller, waving his arms in sweeping gestures and forcing Impulse to scramble just to keep him from knocking all his wares off the shelves. It was hard to tell if Scar was just clueless, or if he enjoyed watching Impulse fumble around.

“Alright, alright, out with you,” Impulse had to reach to grab Scar’s arms, shoving them to his sides and away from his displays before pushing him out from behind the counter. Scar was not to be discouraged, continuing with the sort of confidence only people who got kicked out of stands often could have.

“-and you wouldn’t believe this lady, I’d say all nice-like ‘sorry, I can’t help you with your dumbass kid,’ and she starts going on and on about how I’ll never be a real doctor and I’m like LADY that’s the GOAL-”

“So you worked in medicine before this? Seems like a good gig, must’ve paid well,” Impulse cut in, struggling between amusement and the desire to preserve any sort of professionalism he had for any potential customers passing by.

To Impulse’s great relief, Scar brought the volume down, resting his elbows on the counter with his head in his hands, “Guess you could say that.” That calculating look returned to Scar’s eyes, searching. For what, Impulse wasn’t quite sure. He turned around, if not to avoid Scar’s eye, then to right some of the smaller displays Scar had knocked askew.

“I’m getting the impression you weren’t too fond of the work.”

“I don’t know about that.”

“Well for someone who enjoys the sound of his own voice so much, you don’t seem all too eager to talk about it. What, are you squeamish?” Impulse risked the tease, turning around to see Scar’s amused expression turn to mock-offense.

“Say what you want about my ego, but I am not squeamish.”

“No?”

“No! And that’s gotten me into trouble before, let me tell ya. I didn’t realize blood and gore and things bothered people at all for the longest time, I mean, I grew up around that shit, and my dad certainly wasn’t concerned! Now he’s a doctor, a real stiff kinda man, kinda sucks the life out of everything.”

“So not a ‘Goodtime…s’”

Scar brightened, laughing, “Yeah! Exactly! Anyway, so I was with this girl, right? Lovely person, really, she was great, but oh boy you would not believe how pale she got when I was explaining about this crazy livestock accident- I’ll spare you the details, but I did not spare her anything, and whew, I’ve never had anyone grab my hands so tight. She said- well- she said my name, she said I was a freak! I was like thirteen! I am a changed man, Impulse, changed I tell you. I didn’t see her for a whole month after that, and the whole time I thought she was the freak! Y’know I told my dad, I told him, and you know what he said?”

“Hey, are you going to buy something?”

“Women. That’s what he said. Women. He didn’t even look at me! I look down at my own tits like okay, this doesn’t answer any of my questions, but hey! Me and her are still friends now, at least, before I left. I’ll visit for sure, for sure.”

“Scar.”

“Yes, Impulse!”

“You are lovely. You are.”

“Yes!”

“But if you’re not going to buy anything, I’m going to need to free up the stand for other customers. I’ve got to put food on the table tonight.”

“Oh yes, yes, a personality this big takes up a lot of space! I understand!” Scar rummaged around in his pockets, then flicked two silver coins onto the counter, “For your time then, yeah?"

“You don’t have t-”

“Goodbye!” Scar trailed the ‘e’ as he swiveled around, skipping in the opposite direction. Impulse couldn’t help but gape after him, any previous words lost on his lips. He looked at the time and cringed, unsure if it was good or bad that so much had passed. At least he wasn’t bored. Well then. He’d have quite the story for Skizz after packing up for the night, that was for sure. Maybe that alone made the loss of time worth it. Impulse resituated on his stool, looking out over the market.

Maybe he’d see Scar again sometime soon.

#hermitcraft #hermitfic #impulsesv #skizzleman #gtws #goodtimeswithscar #boatemghostsau

20 notes · View notes

nazuqi · 1 year

Text

Even If You Become a Stranger, I Will Fall In Love With You Again

— CHAPTER ONE: I AM NOT YOUR DAUGHTER, AND I AM NOT YOUR LADY

The Countess and Count are so kind. Unlike most nobles, they married for love, which helped create a healthy environment growing up. It’s nice to be complimented, spoiled, and taken care of so attentively by everyone. It makes me wonder how that had gone away through the years.

To be truthful, even though it’s been just under 10 years, I can’t get used to being “Astelle Belrose”. Even though I’m Astelle, I’m also Qian. Having the knowledge of a teenager as a baby was… quite the experience, to say the least.

“Aste~lle! Are you there? Is my baby studying?” Countess Hyacinthe Belrose knocked on the door to my study.

I grumbled. “I’m not a baby.” I knew she was affectionate that way, but I really wasn’t a baby. Seventeen and being called a baby? That was too much- although it was hard to blame her, because as Astelle, I’d only been born 10 years ago. 10 year-olds were still babies- although my case was quite odd.

Learning the basics like walking took up a lot of time and energy, and with a baby’s body, talking was hard. It was easier to go through normal things I’d be able to do as time passed, and being in a 10-year-old’s body isn’t as different as before. It’s changing, slowly.

“Oh? Them again? I always wonder who they are; I always see you drawing them, and I’ve never seen them before,” she took a closer look at them. “They look very cute~”

Of course she’d never seen them before. Ra*bits didn’t exist in the Empire, and I’m the only fan of a group that “doesn’t exist”. How could I tell her that? “They’re my characters! They like to be cute and sing and dance for everyone and they’re happy when all of their fans are happy!” I wish I could tell her that- but it wouldn’t be right to call them characters. They’re real to me, the people closest to me.

“That’s a secret, mama.” I say with a proud look on my face. They respect my privacy, and it’s easy to act when you know they won’t see through you so fast.

“Alright, I look forward to getting to know them~” she giggled. “Anyways, guess what?”

“What.”

“My best friend is moving to the capital! We’re visiting her next week,” she put her hands to her hips. Countess Hyacinthe’s best friend is Duchess Ariane Lambert- Leveret’s mother. When Duke Lambert had an affair, she’d decided to take her children with her and move to the Capital, far away from the Northern Region where the Lamberts had resided for generations.

“Oh… do I have to go?” It was risky for me. Leveret was always my favorite character; I’ll get attached far too easily.

“Of course, silly! You’re shy now? Having friends is good, I promise.”

“But I have friends in the mansion.”

“Have a friend your age! Just try it out, and if you two don’t work out well, then you don’t have to meet them again unless we both end up going to the same event. Is that okay?”

I nodded. I can’t really argue with that. I don’t want to sound like I hate Leveret; I can’t sound like someone who hates someone for no reason.

Hyacinthe got up from her seat, “We’re meeting your father in a restaurant near the palace tonight for dinner, so get ready, okay?” Oh, the restaurants in the Capital are good, it’s hard to say no to that.

She left to let me get ready with the maids. Needing them to change into a dress for dinner sucks, but the fashion is too difficult for me to get into myself. I let the maids in, and they fixed me up before dinner.

“Eat well, my lady!” I waved to them as I got into the carriage with Hyacinthe. At first, I’d hate being called “my lady”, but it was normal here. Making people bend the normal in their reality to fit my “reality” is too cruel.

I hate living a lie. If only I could tell the Countess that I wasn’t her daughter, never to begin with, the servants that I was never their lady. I have no choice but to move on; I’m stuck as Astelle as long as I am in this world.

#even if you become stronger i will fall in love with you again; nazuqi

7 notes · View notes

shaadelyfe · 8 months

Text

Hope is a strong word that can mean so many things: hope for the better, the worst, to be rich, to be happy, to feel fulfilled, to be an amazing athlete, to feel whole again……. My definition of hope begins with what can you achieve in a realistic mindset. Can you become the better man that you want to be for yourself or for others? I HOPE I can.

Over the past couple of years, it has been difficult to comprehend what the realistic outcome of any change would be. With the onset of the pandemic the whole world felt distant from each other. We no longer had the social interaction I so desperately needed, and it became the perfect storm that took my life on another path. I felt tired. My health was in disarray. I was complacent in what I had in front of me. I felt worthless and just a cog in the wheel. I worried night and day about when “normal” would come back. When would I feel the self-worth I was so desperately trying to achieve? I felt no hope at all. Hope-LESS

After years of tormenting myself in anxiety and depression, I’d say that hope eventually found me…and not in the best way. My body ached and I had sleepless nights. I felt so worn down and unhappy with my appearance I wanted to give up. I would be better off gone, I thought. But then, with a glimmer of hope I didn’t see in myself, my wife pushed/pleaded/insisted to get a physical. This is something I hadn’t done in over 15 years. Drumroll…..the bad news. Your liver is shot, kidneys a mess, cholesterol high and on the verge of diabetes, nerve problems, weight beyond reasonable, loss of memory, potential of cancer in your blood, and the list kept going. I saw more doctors and specialists over 3 months than I had in my entire life (not to mention all the blood work). I was 34….

That’s when HOPE reached out and saved my life.

Most people equate this to “the lightbulb turned on” notion. NO, mine was DO or DIE (physically or mentally). I did the tests, I then knew that if I didn’t change my behaviors and thoughts on both sides: I wouldn’t see my children grow up and they wouldn’t have a father I always wanted to be (irreparable), I’d be a bad partner and not commit to our vows for over 16 years (cowardly), I’d be a disappointment to my family and continuation of past experiences (guilt/recurrence), I’d be the pity of conversation with friends (embarrassment), I’d be the “guy” that couldn’t get over his own securities to save his life and the emotions of those around him (self-guilt).

Everything stated above was flowing through my head. Weird to think that with all that doubt and contradiction, end of life was still a thought. That’s #mental

It took time to calm down, but i knew that was the only way. Do some meditation, read some positive books (thanks Headway), workout to clear my mind. Most importantly, address my addiction with alcohol. I might not remember the exact day, but the day I chose to live for myself is the only reason I’m writing this today. My “light bulb turn ON”! From that day forward, while not always easy, I started applying the #mentalwork needed to be there for all those that needed me too. As an emotional person I think about the aftereffects “If” I were to do something selfish before doing so. I wish others would’ve done the same, but inner voices get you and they can’t overcome. I chose the feelings of those around me as a catalyst to be better. Get healthy, be present, seek help, feel the power of self-worth, work harder, appreciate what you have, HOPE to do better.

### This was a long story on my progression for HOPE and the possibilities, awareness, and simple therapeutic outlet I chose to explore, but more will come. My journey as of 1-2-2023 equates to: 45lbs lighter, anxiety reduced by action, bigger belief in self-worth, deeper understanding of HOPE, and my choice to exceed expectations.

Sadness.Hope.Anxiety.Addiction.Depression.Expectations

#self love #mental health #hope #inspiration #mens mental health #shaadelyfe

0 notes

myleakyspine · 2 years

Text

Life Changes

I’ve lost my job due to this illness. Thankfully I fully qualify for disability through my workplace, so I was able to keep my health insurance. In 2 months I will hopefully be able to collect Long Term Disability payments. That has been something I’m incredibly thankful for and hoping for. However, losing my job drastically changes a lot of things. Firstly, it puts the burden on James to support two people with his income. I’ve been a conservative saver for most of my working years so I have quite a bit of savings, but as I’m sure you can imagine, healthcare costs are not cheap. I’ve spent thousands and thousands of dollars in just a few short months to have needles shoved in my arms and in my back and to have more stress than I could possibly have imagined. I’ve also recently realized how much it’s affecting my self-esteem that I cannot work or contribute to society or my life with James.

Ever since high school, I’ve been an active volunteer in the communities in which I’ve lived, and then I became a RN right after graduating college. I’d like to think I’ve spent a significant amount of time working to help others. And now my daily life revolves around minimizing my pain and sadness. I struggle to feel valued because I’m not contributing to any sort of community or my family. I feel I’m costing my family sleep, money, stress, peace of mind, and happiness.

Of course, no one makes me feel this way. My family and friends have been more supportive than I could have hoped for. My parents had James and me move in with them, and that has been another amazing blessing for innumerable reasons. All I’m trying to say is it’s hard being sick in the first place, and then even harder watching the people you love most- and who love you the most- struggle to go through this with you. Their lives have turned upside-down overnight as well. And as much as I’m endlessly thankful to have people to go through this with, I wish I could have protected them from this.

I think I’ve done a pretty good job of maintaining perspective and gratefulness through most of this. Relatively speaking, I’m in a pretty good position. But I don’t want to make it seem like I’ve been happy and worry-free through any of this. I’ve felt more overwhelmed, stressed, lonely, worthless, frustrated, scared, confused, and angry than I ever thought possible. It’s hard to live in a body that feels like it’s working against you. I have a (hopefully) minor blood disorder, I had hip surgery last year, and now my spine is showing early degenerative disc disease and causing this leak. It’s hard to imagine ever returning to a healthy life because I just imagine the next illness is right around the corner.

I think that’s been the hardest adjustment of all. I’m a planner. And we all think we have time. And the simple truth is we just don’t. We hear that all the time, in a thousand different ways. And yet, we somehow continue to get caught up in the rat-race and meaningless things. I’m facing the hard truth that my life may be different for the next few years, and potentially the rest of my life.

My treatment options have a high chance of failure. I may need multiple treatments. If that’s the case, I will not be able to hold a typical job. I may have to remain on disability. I will not be able to travel, to go to Disney World, to drive, to go grocery shopping. I’m so limited by this leak that I can barely leave the house, and if I do, I have to use a wheelchair and limit my time to an hour upright. If I need to have surgery to remove the bone spur, I risk paralysis from the shoulders down and risk infection and other complications. The idea of a “normal” life feels so far away and dangerous to consider given the risks of my illness.

I’m about to start my life with James, and what kind of life is he promising himself to? I have no idea if I’ll be healthy enough to raise kids, to experience life, to give him a life he deserves. He’s happy to be with me in whatever capacity, but can you imagine the guilt I carry knowing he’s entering this union with so much uncertainty?

I used to worry that I was not a resilient person. I never faced any real challenges or trauma. I think I can put that worry aside now. I’m practicing calling myself resilient every day to remind myself that I am. I get up every day, change clothes, wash my face, and find what ways I can to make money. I still smile and laugh. I hug my family. I cry in the shower. I get angry and act meanly. But through it all, I am building resilience.

1 note · View note

amysubmits · 3 years

Text

“Just Knowing” & Communication

I got an ask recently asking if I could write something about how doms seem to sometimes “instinctively know” things about their sub, and how communication plays into that.

I thought it was a great point, and I had an experience that I’d been wanting to share in some way, that I thought would work well within that concept. Anyway, here goes...

I have shared experiences where CD reads my needs seamlessly. Those moments can feel almost magical and that makes me want to share them. I have occasionally heard from people who seem to think CD is nearly capable of reading my mind, as a result of posts like that. It’s not my intention to give that impression.

There are occasional moments where I am shocked at how he knows things I didn’t say. I’ve also shared that sometimes those moments where he perfectly meets my needs are often the moments where I feel the most owned. That’s because him knowing and meeting my needs feels so intensely intimate, and so much of our D/s comes down to emotional intimacy.

He isn’t a mind reader, though. We have been together over a decade now, and he’s observant. I think that deserves a big mention, when discussing how he ‘just knows’ things about me. He notices my body language, and how I react to things. He learns a lot about me by simply paying close attention. This is really important to me. Him naturally watching me, noticing my mood and such, is a big way that he makes me feel loved. I couldn’t be with someone who wasn’t naturally drawn to try to learn me, and pay close attention to me. Just him being someone who pays attention is a huge part of how I feel loved. It shows me that he wants to know as much as he can about me, and that he wants to meet my needs. More than that, his desire to want to learn my needs period, matters. There are some people who just don’t wish to get that deep with their partner, they don’t care to know their partner like the back of their had. That would be a problem, for me, because I do want that level of intimacy. Part of how I knew that CD had that desire for deeper intimacy, was how he tried to learn what he could by observing me.

At the same time, being mindful of your loved one’s body language, facial expressions and behaviors only goes so far. You can’t observe your way into knowing exactly what someone wants or needs. You just can’t. Certain things just have to be explicitly stated. While a good portion of our emotional intimacy comes from paying close attention to each other, more of it comes from our communication.

The truth is, there have been times where I’ve been frustrated that CD didn’t catch something. I’ve occasionally had the emotional reaction of almost feeling neglected because he didn’t notice something about me. And that? Is not a healthy reaction for me to have. That reaction is something I have to try to be conscious of, and I can’t allow myself to run away with those feelings. I have to recognize them and fight back against them. Because I can’t expect him to read my mind, or to pick up on everything, to ‘just know’ everything, or anything, really. If he isn’t aware of something, it is my responsibility to communicate.

We were new to D/s in particular, we talked about our needs and wants all the time, often daily. Getting started with D/s requires really thorough communication so that you know the boundaries and limits of the dynamic, and so that you know what is expected of each of you. Even though we tried to hammer out our dynamic in advance, we found ourselves experiencing scenarios that we weren’t sure how they ‘should’ be handled with our D/s, because we couldn’t pre-plan our D/s for how to go about every possible scenario that life may throw at us. So whenever we experienced something new and didn’t know how to handle it, we’d have to discuss how we wanted to handle it. Or in there cases we’d handle a situation and then realize we wished it had been handled differently, and we’d discuss that and plan to do differently next time.

After a while (many months?) it got to where we had the basics down and we didn’t need to talk about things as often anymore. We didn’t have to discuss it multiple times a week anymore, but perhaps a couple times a month was sufficient. Still, the frequency ebbs and flows. We go through phases, even now, 6 years in, of discussing our D/s more or less often. It mainly depends on whether we’re facing new things in life or making changes to our rules or the rest of our dynamic, or whether life is normal and our dynamic is unchanged. If we make changes, that means we’ll communicate about our D/s more often for a while, usually. Tons of what we know about each other and our needs are things we’ve learned through all that communication. Way more than we’ve learned by just observing each other.

Our “meta-talks” (discussions about our D/s) are perhaps one of the areas that I don’t give enough attention to on this blog. They’re often very private feeling, so it’s hard to feel comfortable sharing much about them.

A couple of months ago after a meta-talk, we came to the conclusion that it would be helpful for us to focus on making sure I feel very seen. It wasn’t that I had stopped feeling seen...but more that our current life circumstances were making me need to feel more seen than usual. Anyway, CD had me make him a list of things that made me feel seen, to share with him.

The things I shared on that list were all things he had done “naturally” before. So it was more about sharing with him what things he does that make me feel particularly seen. Still, I did over-think it, a little bit. I wondered if it would feel different for him to do these things for me after I shared them with him, rather than doing them purely instinctually, like he had in the past. Would it feel less genuine? Would I be able to absorb it and really effectively feel see if I suspected he was doing this for the purpose of making me feel seen?

Early on, I did feel a bit bashful or self-conscious when I noticed him doing those things a little bit more often. I felt a bit insecure like “Oh, he just thinks he has to do that because I need to feel more seen.” and for some reason that cheapened it a little in my mind, and also made me feel a bit selfish or something. Worrying about being a burden on people is a deep seeded insecurity of mine that comes in up all sorts of ways. So it’s not surprising that my brain tried to twist this into ‘he just feels obligated to’. Even early on when I was feeling those insecurities, I was feeling seen, at the same time. As more time went on though, those insecurities softened and I was able to recognize that these things were feeling fulfilling to him, too, which further eased my insecurities.

This is just one example of how our direct communication has benefitted our D/s. When this type of thing occurs over the course of many years, I hope you can imagine how that can assist with creating those “he just knows” moments.

I think a lot of good relationships have similar experiences with hesitating to share exactly what you want from your partner. The love is there, the good intent is there, but unless you tell your partner exactly what makes you feel the best...you can’t magically expect them to know. Yet many of us have this instinct that “I can’t tell them exactly how I’d like them to treat me, or it won’t be as ‘real’”.

I think D/s often complicates this issue even farther. Subs hesitate to ask for ‘too much’ because they don’t want to be too needy, or to feel like they’re taking charge or telling their doms what to do. Which I think is a valid concern. In my view, the answer to that potential problem isn’t to avoid sharing what make you feel good. Instead, it’s just to be mindful of the way that you are communicating, so that you are sharing the knowledge of your needs or desires without telling them what to do.

Communicating in great detail is a huge part of how we find the intimacy that we’re after with D/s. Understanding in detail what makes each other feel dominant and submissive does SO much to assist us with keeping our D/s on track, and to keep each other feeling loved and cared for. These deep, difficult, detailed discussions are also helpful to our D/s because they make me realize how safe our relationship is. That sense of security allows me to let go and be more submissive.

As I said earlier, I understand that instinct that if you tell someone exactly what you want, and then they do it, your initial instinct may be to feel like it’s less meaningful when they do it. Like asking for it somehow ‘cheapened’ it.

I think that is a largely misguided instinct, though. I think that if you tell someone what feels good to you, and they do it just to placate you or please you? You can tell they’re just phoning it in. And if you tell them what makes you feel good, and they do it because they enjoy making you feel good? You’ll feel that too.

It’s similar to how starting D/s worked for us. When I first asked for it, I worried it would be something he did just for me. But once he found meaning in it himself? I could tell that our D/s was fulfilling for him, that it was giving him joy, and that he was really feeling the connection with me through this dynamic. It was just easy to see that he was really ‘feeling it’. A similar thing can happen with "smaller” things such as specific acts of love, care or service.

#writing #sccwriting #d/s #domestic discipline

217 notes · View notes

teacupfulofstarshine · 3 years

Text

you're the pink in my cheeks (i'm a little bit soft)

summary: "and i know we'll never grow old together / cause you'll never grow old to me / you're the pink in my cheeks / and i love that it means i'm a little bit soft / you're the pink in my cheeks / and i love that it means i'm a little bit soft"

- "monster," marceline (adventure time)

(OR: 5.4k of soft domestic lesbian!analogical, featuring lesbian!moceit, trans male!remus, trans female!roman, and Gay Shenanigans)

a/n: huge thank you to dandie for beta'ing this fic!

i just wanted to write wlw is that so wrong of me? no. no it is not.

CW: alcohol mentions, a few sex jokes, swearing, one implied instance of potential sexual activity (although it doesn't go any farther than making out; if you want to skip that part, skip the section that starts with "Did you get the right kind of popcorn?")

word count: ~5.4k

read it on ao3!!

“I think I may be going insane,” Logan says, squinting at her laptop screen. Virginia, hanging upside-down in the armchair, looks up from her phone and blinks.

“And why is that?”

“Because I am starting to agree with Rosie’s anti-Florida agenda.”

“I didn’t realize that there was an anti-Florida agenda.”

“Rosie has one, and I have always thought it facetious. However, if this laboratory does not start sending me my requested samples and information in a timely manner, I will be forced to concede that Rosie may have . . . a point.”

“You, agreeing with a lit major? I never thought I’d see the day,” Virginia teases. Logan initially resists the urge to stick her tongue out or flip Virginia off, because that would be childish, but then she remembers that Virginia does not care about her childishness, so she sticks her tongue out. Virginia snorts with laughter, and Logan feels warm, fizzy pop-rocks bursting in her chest.

Her phone buzzes next to her, and she picks it up. There’s a new message blinking for her attention on the screen.