#Farrah Forke | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

bejeweledblondie · 7 months

Text

The Great War

Alex Keller x F! Reader

Summary: Alex gets caught red handed with Farrah while on FaceTime with Y/N & has to make it up to her when he returns

Warnings: angst, cheating, I saw the Eras Tour movie last night & I got inspo from the Midnights set

Your stomach was in knots, Alex had never usually missed your scheduled FaceTime call, but when he did he always had a good excuse. The risk of calling was sometimes a matter of exposing his location to the enemy. You wanted Alex to come home safely. But this time he had no valid excuse, & didn’t have any reasoning as to why he didn’t call. So here you say on FaceTime in silence with him as you ate your now cold dinner. Trying to get an answer out of him was like pulling teeth. He only gave one worded answers with no emotion.

“Are you okay babe?” You asked with concerned tone putting down your fork. His job was beyond stressful & you could tell something was weighing on his mind. You chalked it up to him being stressed out from work, attempting to calm your anxieties.

“Just tired.” He replied shrugging his shoulders. A knock at his door drew his attention & he suddenly perked up. Confusion ran through your veins as you watched him suddenly not be “tired” anymore. “My love, Price is here to talk. I love you & I’ll talk to you tomorrow.” He said.

“I love you too. Goodnight handsome tell Price I say hello!” You replied blowing him a kiss. You got up from your seat to put your plate in the sink thinking Alex ended the call. That was up until you were in your kitchen & heard soft moaning coming from your desk. Immediately your heart started to pound, & a pit of anxiousness started to form in your stomach. You slowly walked into your living room & sat down at your desk. As soon as your eyes were on the screen you had to cover your mouth from admitting a loud sob. Alex was on top of another woman, kissing her. You knew exactly who she was. The girl he told you not to worry about, the girl who occupied your time with him, Farrah. You removed your hand & wiped the tears that rolled down your cheeks.

“Alex?!” You sobbed out. He froze while Farrah turned to see the phone on his desk propped up still on FaceTime. “How could you do this to me?!” You screamed out of anger & feeling of betrayal.

“Sweetheart I-“ He was rushing to his phone to start some ridiculous excuse for his actions. You immediately turned off the call & let out a painful wail. Your whole body shook as you crumpled to the floor. A part of you was almost thankful you hadn’t officially fully moved in with him. You were due to move in next week when he returned. Your body felt rigid & frozen as you sat on the floor staring at the wall in front of you.

The constant vibration of your phone going off started to blend in with the background noise of your air conditioner. Alex knew your heart was glass, you told him how fragile you were from past relationships & he shattered it into a million pieces. He was just like the rest of them. It stung like a thousand wasps stinging you over & over again. The conversations of him reassuring you that there was nothing going on with him & Farrah replayed in your head like a movie stuck on replay. You wanted to slap some sense into your past self & tell yourself to trust your gut.

You decided to take the next days off from work, & notified Price to tell Alex to cut contact. Time & space were needed for you to heal. But even with all of that you felt like you were in the shell of your former self. You were dragging your feet everywhere, & everything reminded you of Alex. The ghosts of his presence haunted you everyday. Dark bags started to form under your eyes & your hair was starting to become dull. No amount of product or even sleep could improve your health.

After a few weeks you slowly started to function somewhat normally. You took up a new hobby, painting & were able to start your healing process. It helped you get out of your apartment but still be able to be alone. So here you sat, in the local park painting. Keeping to yourself & living in your own bubble. Soon a dark shadow appeared overhead, blocking your natural lighting. Groaning to yourself you looked up to see the familiar pair of beat up Vans. You didn’t even bother to look fully up.

“What do you want?” You grumbled angrily at his presence. The audacity of this man astonished you.

“I want to talk.” He replied softly. He knew he royally fucked up. As soon as he looked up at the phone to see her face on the opposite end heartbroken. Instant regret hit him like a freight train. What was even more difficult & added more stress was the lack of trust he had now developed with his team. After you had texted Price asking for him to speak to Alex & word got out at what he had done. Trust was completely broken, because if you could cheat on your beloved how could you be trusted in a life & death situation.

“I don’t.” You replied bluntly, starting to put your art supplies as the park was now ruined. You got up on your feet & went to go leave. He hand grabbed your wrist preventing you from walking away. “Let go of me.” You commanded trying to wiggle away.

“Please Y/N.” He begged. You looked into his eyes, they were as equally as sad looking as yours. When he grabbed your wrist you felt the same electric touch as you did the first night you met. The angel & devil that sat on your shoulders were in a full out war trying to figure out to give him a chance to redeem himself. “Just give me ten minutes.”

“Fine.” You replied. The both of you chose a small bench that overlooked the pond. For a moment the two of you sat in silence. Then you turned to look at him. “You really hurt me Alex.” You softly said trying to prevent tears from spilling. “And to think now naive I was. I wanted to marry you.” He just stared back at you speechless.

“I know I hurt you.” He replied. “It by far has to be the most regrettable thing I’ve ever done in my life. Knowing I destroyed you-“ you cut him off.

“You’re only sad because you got caught.” You snapped. “If you truly cared about me & loved me you wouldn’t have kissed her.” Now you were full on sobbing. “Just please be honest with me.”

“That was the first time I kissed her.” Alex said. “I swear on my life.” He said in a serious tone. “We had a strictly professional relationship, I had empathy for her situation & it snowballed form there. She kissed me first & my fucking stupid self continued it.” You just sat there staring out at the pond trying to soak in Alex’s words. “I was a selfish prick & thought about myself over you.”

“Why did you try to find me Alex?” You whispered out.

“I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t get to see you one last time.” Alex said. “I wouldn’t know how to be able to move on if I didn’t get to say what I had to.” The two of you sat in silence again as the sounds of nature filled the air. You both watched an old couple in a small row boat go past clearly on a date. It reminded you of the time you & Alex went kayaking. His canoe tipped over & while you were trying to help him you fell on top of him.

“That reminds me of when we went kayaking.” You softly said. “I still think you yanked me out of the canoe.”

“Hey!” Alex said defensively. “I did not you just fell out.” You had to stifle a laugh thinking about it. There was still of piece of you where all you wanted to was wrap your arms around him. You missed him, beyond words. He was your whole world.

“Alex.” You started & looked at him. He turned to you & placed a hand on your cheek. You leaned tenderly into his touch that you missed so dearly. “I miss you.” You whispered tears now falling again. He placed another hand on your waist & pulled you in for a deep kiss. Once you unlocked lips your foreheads rested against each other.

“I’m right here my love.” He whispered. You two survived the Great War.

#call of duty #cod imagines #cod masterlist #captain john price #captain price #captain john price imagine #alex keller x you #alex keller x reader #alex keller #alex cod #cod imagine #cod mwf2 #cod x female reader

57 notes · View notes

theloststarboy · 9 months

Text

Steve Harringtons morning routine(with Eddie Munson in his bed, as it has been for the past 20 or so years)

5:30 in the morning right at sunrise Steve wakes up, quickly shutting off his alarm as to not wake Eddie who won’t be up for a while. He presses a kiss to Eddie’s forehead before standing, he stretches, touching his toes, reaching his arms around his back and cracking his back. He turns on a dim lamp to grab work out clothes, a tee shirt and a pair of sweats wich he changes into

He turns off the light and opens his daughters bedroom door, she’s safe sound asleep in her crib, snoring softly (she was a surrogate, the pair actually played a very intense game of rock paper scissors to find out whose seed they would use, it was a whole event really)

He walks down to the kitchen. he makes a protein shake, smoothie mix with berries and flax seeds and protein powder he puts on his shoes and puts a baseball cap on(it’s covered in patches and pins, the patch in the middle being his husbands band, corroded coffin and he wore it daily, even if it threw off his whole “asthetic” people are constantly asking him to “name three songs” and he would go into the whole lore of corroded coffin, even the parts the fans don’t know, the garage band days playing In front of a crowd of five drunks)

He gives their dogs, sabbath and Taylor a few scoops of dry food and some cuddles before leaving (he and Eddie walks them in the afternoon together)

He jogs to the gym, getting cardio in now instead of on the olymptical. He paces himself and slowly drinks his smoothie before getting to the gym

An hour later he’s walking back to their house (their house the house they bought together, in 1999, just a little ways from Indiana, it’s cozy. It’s their home) it’s now 8 in the morning as he adds a can of wet food to their dogs and putting his cup into the sink, he hangs up his cap officially turning on the lights in the living room, hallway, and now bathroom. He hums to himself as he strips naked and takes a shower, he washes his hair snd his body, once out he blowdrys and takes care of his hair, his favorite secret Farrah fawcett spray has been discontinued for years so he has switched to aqua net, in a white bottle he sprays it twice before doing skin care

He brushes his teeth and Finnaly gets dressed for the day in a sweater and tight fitting jeans. Steve smiled as he walks to the kitchen finding his husband in the kitchen his daughter in a high chair, Eddie was cooking in just boxers obviously tired.

„Good morning my love“ Steve smiled before turning to Rowan „good morning sweetheart“ he crouches and speaks in a baby voice to their daughter who happily babbles and laughs at her dad

„Hi, Breakfast is almost ready, pretty boy. How was your run?“ Eddie asks handing Steve over a cup of coffee with a smile as he’s plating some eggs bacon and potatoes

„nice, it’s getting colder out, tommorow I’m definitely using a jacket“ Steve say sitting on the counter

„You mean my jacket?“ Eddie laughs handing Steve a plate

„Definitely“ Steve nods pressing a kiss to his lips before cutting up the bacon on Rowan’s plate so she could messily eat the food with her grubby fingers and small plastic fork before her bath later in the day, but for now, they eat.

#stranger things #gay #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #i’m so gay #currently screaming #parenting #ian writes #Ive been wanting to do this #because I’ve started deciding that I will follow Steve’s morning routine #highly reccomend it #It’s been making my mental health a lot better #GENUINLY #and while I don’t live with my boyfriend #or have a kid #It’s still very nice

68 notes · View notes

fierte-verte · 2 years

Text

Being Steve's Neighbor + Rival-to-Lover Would Include... (Part 1)

Part 2/ Part 3/ Part 4

Pre-1981

growing up in hawkin's wealthy neighborhood, you were warranted an easy childhood: nice clothes, parents who skillfully mastered the laissez-faire attitude, and opportunities to pursue everything from ballet to athletics

you had a knack for maneuvering around obstacles, taking to hurdles like a fish to water

hawkins middle school had never seen a faster pair of legs, that was, until your neighbor decided to dip his musty toes in the sport

steve harrington was the nightmare of all opponents: arrogant and crude but unfairly blessed with exceptional motor skills

you hated his guts with a burning passion, the way he'd carelessly flick his sweat-drenched towel around, fancy running shoes digging into the ground to make obnoxious sounds

not to mention his ego, so honest-to-god swollen that it couldn't handle being bested by a girl

"hey princess, why don't you go ahead and quit already? save yourself the humiliation"

"like when your parents never show up at any of our meets?"

few in town knew how dysfunctional the picture-perfect Harringtons were, but as their neighbor you had witnessed first hand how little steve's parents cared about him

the ugly truth was a fatal sore spot with steve, and the results were deadly each time you weaponized it

clear brown eyes would darken into a muddy blur, fists clenched so tight you'd see crescent marks on flesh when they unfurled

you always almost felt sorry at the sight of his crumbling expression, frustration and loneliness marring a twelve year-old's face

walking off silently in opposite directions was the only form of truce you two knew

you'd never admit to looking back twice, but under the setting sun there was never a more forlorn shape than his shadow

steve and you were always neck and neck in training, but your rivalry also extended beyond the track and school

on weekends, the little asshole loved to lounge in his pool, blasting the radio at an ungodly volume while you tried to read in the garden next door

"harrington! do you mind? some of us actually have a brain we'd like to enrich once in a while!"

"what? can't hear you over this totally tubular song!"

if your parents were at home to shout over the fence for you, he'd turn the music down in a heartbeat, apology laced with faux sincerity

"sorry mr. and mrs. y/l/n! i didn't know y/n was reading"— you could just hear his shit-eating grin

your parents might've found him cheeky, likeable even, but your protective dachshund Gracie knew better

watching steve squirm as she gave him the stink eye on her daily walk was a great source of satisfaction

"(y/l/n)! get your sausage dog to stop glaring at me"

joint-house dinners for thanksgiving were the worst; the harringtons, knowing nothing about their son, would insist that you and steve sit together at the table

he was relentless with his antics; swapping your salt and sugar, flicking peas into your mashed potatoes whenever the adults weren't looking, "accidentally" using your salad fork and then proceeding to lick it clean in the most revolting manner possible—

needless to say, you would be seething before dessert every time

the look on his face whenever you stamped his pristine sneakers under the table, however, always lasted you through the rest of dinner

1981

when high school rolled around, steve was still unpleasant as ever— though he seemed to have turned his attention away from track, spending it on basketball and swimming instead

you befriended the spunky robin buckley on your first day, both of you late to algebra with mr. mundy

bright as a button, and never one to tell lies, robin was quick to earn your trust

she also learnt your disdain for a certain neighbor in no time

"i'm telling you rob, it's all farrah fawcett and no brain in that head"

to your utter horror, and her amusement, you and steve end up getting paired for ms. jones' chemistry project

"na-cl-uh? what the hell is na-cl-uh?"

"jesus harrington, it's NaCl— sodium chloride"

steve would've loved to roll his eyes and mutter an indiscreet nerd, but he knew damn well you were his grade's saving grace

halfway through freshman year, steve had officially quit track, unable to juggle three sports and his father's crushing expectations

to everyone's surprise, you were livid at the news, storming up to his lunch table one day with a flabbergasted robin in tow

he'd taken one glance at your furious face before ducking behind tommy h for protection— coward, as if that stick of a boy could even land a punch

"why’d you quit?"

he just stared at you, doe eyes comically wide and mouth hanging open with a disgustingly half-chewed hot dog inside

"what's it to you, princess? thought you'd be glad to get rid of your strongest competition"

robin gave you a gentle nudge, seemingly in agreement with steve's statement— now quite true in hindsight

would life be easier if you didn't have steve "the hair" harrington breathing down your neck at every training? yes

but did the idea of steve throwing away his potential, when you know he's got what it takes to win state, national even, sting like hell? also yes

anyone who has a problem with it can sue you, but it still didn't take away the fact that, for some absurd reason, you'd had higher hopes for the insufferable jerk

the unreal confrontation that day ended with you stalking away from the table, simultaneously mortified and disappointed

steve had laughed it off with tommy h and the rest of his underlings, but his eyes never once left your retreating back, curious and astonished

that summer, you focused half of your time on training and hanging out at robin's house, with the other half spent babysitting kids around town

will byers was one of them— soft-spoken, imaginative, and extremely perceptive, he was your favorite gremlin of them all

you'd watch him when joyce and jonathan were out late on their work shifts, always ending up in castle byers because will didn't like staying in the house without them

you'd sit comfortably surrounded by quilts and pillows, chin propped on folded knees as he talked about the party and their latest campaign

he missed his dad sometimes, you could tell, despite the man's sleaziness and self-served character

you hated seeing the sad frown form between will's eyebrows, too familiar and jarring on a little boy's face

"hey kid— you think i'd make a good clerk?"

"cleric," he'd correct, exasperated but grateful for the momentary distraction

1982

sophmore year rolled by quickly; you did well in hurdles and picked up pole vaulting, started learning russian with robin, and grew an unhealthy obsession with rob lowe when the outsiders came out

you'd coax robin into watching it with you at sleepovers, rewinding the tape over and over again with the window open until steve chucked something through it from his room across

"if i have to hear rob lowe ask about his dx shirt one more time—"

he'd argue that you're addicted, but it's more a religion, really

already used to your bickering, robin would snort, swallow her mouthful of popcorn, and toss whatever steve had thrown in into a blue basket labelled "environmental pollutant"

it's mainly filled with socks, marbles, forgotten toy cars, and a few crumpled up pages of playboy that was excellent blackmail material

for three weeks, you sat next to laurie hills in english, listening to her go on and on about steve's hair, his "manly" hands, how much of a gentleman he was to her

not much, you thought to yourself, if the sight of amy pline climbing through his window on a friday night was any indication

he'd catch your squinted eyes through the window, having the audacity to look the slightest embarrased at having gotten caught

he always covered it up with a half-baked smug grin, however, and you'd tell laurie she was better off without him every time she came to class late, poorly hidden tear streaks peeking through fresh powder

the somewhat civilized hostility between you and steve continued on until late march, when you came home one day to find gracie missing, the front door swung open ominously

overcome with panic, you looked up and down the street before spotting steve on his porch, nursing what seemed to be a sore cheek

"harrington! have you seen gracie?"

startled at your voice and already cranky from being slapped, steve couldn't help but react harshly

"in case you haven't noticed, (y/l/n), i'm not exactly in the state to keep an eye out for deranged canines”

the worry in your stomach swelled, along with fury at steve's nonchalance— you'd thought he would at least offer a helping hand in looking, knowing how much gracie meant to you after your grandfather's death

"you know, steve, despite what your blockhead friends tell you, you don't actually have to be an ass all the time"

if the tears threatening to spill from your eyes didn't do the trick, hearing the rare sound of his name from your mouth definitely jolted steve from his grouchy spell

"hey, i'm sorry, i didn't—"

"forget it, steve, i don't want to beg for your help. i shouldn't have to"

you hurried away from the harrington house, scurrying around the area in search of a black and tan blob

it began to pour soon after, the rain soaking you to a tee; unable to see anything in the weather, you began to tread back home reluctantly

if there ever was a stranger sight, it'd be steve harrington standing on the steps of your house, equally drenched and holding something in his bunched up jacket

upon walking closer, you realized it was gracie, fur damp and shaking slightly in steve's arms

"i-uh-found her on mirkwood, scared and everything behind a dumpster"

he watched as you cooed and whispered soothingly at gracie, fingers reaching out to rub behind her ears— all the while ignoring the heavy thumping in his own chest

"i'm-uh-sorry, for earlier, laurie came over and we started fighting—"

"i know, steve, i sit next to her in english," you offered a wobbly, pained smile as the olive branch, only to have steve see it as another stick tossed to the fire

"oh? so that's how it is? class bell rings and a gossip parade starts like it's the fourth?" the sudden souring of his tone caused you to tense, ready to revert back to the usual jibes and digs

"what in the— steve, i'm not the bad guy in your relationship. it's not like laurie is clueless about your conquests, you know, since amy pline can't keep her mouth shut about you even if her life depended on it—"

"so you tell her to break up with me, steve harrington, the big bad neighbor”

"oh please!" you could hear the rush of blood from your ears to cheeks, "you look at anyone remotely interested like a goddamn piece of meat, and you chew and spit them out so carelessly, like you're above all us peasants, who have to pick up your mess just because you can't keep it in your pants—"

"oh ok, i'm smelling some big-time jealously here. you're mad i don't pay you enough attention, princess? that i don't grovel at your feet like aaron marvey and the rest of the track team?"

that's it, you think to yourself in sheer bewilderment, steve harrington's officially out of his goddamn mind

plucking gracie from his arms, your hands gentle despite the rage, you swerved around steve to unlock your front door, entire body trembling in shock

such wishful thinking, that eight years of knowing each other could, if even for a minute, somehow place you in his good graces

there was no hiding how upset you were, so you spun around, looked straight into his eyes and whispered, "have a good rest of your day, king steve— i’d say i hope to see you later but i don’t"

leaning against the door as it slammed shut, you felt the prickle of fresh tears in your eyes— why were you crying? and of all people, because of steve harrington?

gracie, the rain, messing up your pace more than usual in training today— that had to be it, not your stupid neighbor who didn't know the definition of humility until it slapped him across the face, who suddenly decided to soak his 40-dollar Gazelles looking for a dog whom he didn't even like (not to mention before insulting her owner in every way possible)

jesus, what was wrong with him? and what was wrong with you? you never cared about what steve harrington thought— this weird, antagonistic dynamic worked just fine for you both all these years

with that thought, you hugged gracie closer to your chest, the sounds of your sniffling muffled by her coat

"hey-sweetheart-it'll be alright"

whether the words were for gracie or yourself, no one knew— not even steve, who stood outside your door the entire night, fist half-raised against the wood

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #steve harrington hc #steve #stranger things hc #stranger things #joe keery #stranger things x reader

97 notes · View notes