#that i wasn’t unloveable but a pain to love | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

alwaysmicado · 2 months

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Sink or swim

12.3k | fwb!Joel Miller x f!reader | pt. 8

WARNINGS: 18+, no outbreak AU, implied age gap, emotional hurt/comfort, flashbacks (toxic relationship, bad mental health), mention of miscarriage & surgery, smut (nothing too graphic), Tommy Miller x f!reader SUMMARY: You reminisce about the late-night conversation that changed your life forever. Joel shares a secret. A/N: Guys, it’s finally here!! This part was hard for me to write, but I’m beyond happy with how it turned out. We learn so much about reader’s past and her relationship with Tommy, and I can’t tell you how excited I am to share it with you. Have fun reading (even though it’s a bit sad) and please let me know what you think! I wanna know all your thoughts!! 🤍 Dividers by the wonderful @saradika-graphics.

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The ocean stretches before you like a vast expanse of liquid silk, its rhythmic waves kissing the shore with a gentle insistence. The sun, now in its descent towards the horizon, casts a warm glow, painting the water and sand in hues of amber and gold.

You’re perched on a weathered bench, sneakers softly tapping against the sand, lost in thought as you watch the waves roll in.

Dressed in yoga shorts and an oversized t-shirt, with an ice cream cone in hand and sunglasses shielding your eyes from the brilliant rays of the setting sun, you blend seamlessly into the serene scene before you.

You appear inconspicuous, just another person soaking up the sun and breathing in the fresh air. No one can see the anguish gnawing at your heart, the tumult in your head, or the pain in your hand that makes you want to scream.

No, no, you look far too calm for that, too composed, too happy.

Besides, what would someone like you possibly have to feel bad about? Seriously. You just love to wallow in your own sadness, don’t you? You haven’t changed at all. You’re still your insecure, annoying, unlovable self. God, even your inner voice is irritating. Do you hear how pathetic you sound? Of course he wouldn’t lov–

Shut up.

You focus on the waves as they dance and sway, their melodic rhythm a soothing balm to the cruel thoughts echoing relentlessly in your mind.

The ocean’s song, a symphony of calming whispers and gentle sighs you’ve loved ever since you were a little girl, envelops you in its embrace, drawing you deeper into a state of quiet reflection. The cool breeze dancing through the air brushes against your sun-kissed skin, carrying with it the salty scent of the ocean and the promise of new beginnings.

With a gentle tilt of your head, you take another lick of the strawberry soft serve you bought at the ice cream stand near the boardwalk, feeling the familiar comfort of the cool creaminess dance across your taste buds. It’s been a few months since you last indulged in this particular treat, sharing it with Joel after a rough day at work.

As the cold sweetness melts on your tongue, bittersweet memories of that afternoon flood back with vivid clarity. You can almost hear Joel’s infectious laughter as you scarfed down the icy treat a little too eagerly, his eyes crinkling with amusement at your inevitable brain freeze. But it wasn’t just the shared laughter and playful banter that made this memory so special.

It was Joel’s genuine interest in hearing about your day, about you, his calming presence grounding you and making you momentarily forget all your troubles. He provided you with a warmth that seeped into your bones, a connection that felt effortless yet profound. Like it could be more.

Reflecting on it now, perhaps that should have been a hint that things were more serious than you wanted to admit right from the beginning. Oh well, dwelling on it is futile now. Because you did finally admit it, didn’t you? And not only that, you basically shouted your feelings from the rooftops last night, laying your soul bare.

Fucking embarrassing.

How are you supposed to come back from that? How are you supposed to ever look into Joel’s eyes again?

There’s a reason why you stopped psychotherapy after a few months, there’s a reason why you don’t have any close friends beside Tommy, there’s a reason why your dating life has consisted of a series of superficial hookups over the past couple of years.

“Fear of intimacy,” your therapist called it. “A response to sustained trauma.”

You walked out of that session and, fueled by defiance, decided to fuck the first guy who caught your eye, just to prove to yourself, and to your therapist, that you were very well capable of intimacy.

Lying in bed that night, lonely and empty, you couldn’t shake the truth of her words. You hated her guts for forcing you to confront your inner demons, but she did have a point in everything she said.

It’s an uncomfortable truth.

There’s nothing in the world you fear more than people knowing what’s going on inside your head, knowing what you feel, knowing your vulnerabilities and weaknesses—knowing the real you.

And last night, that fear came true.

Your innermost thoughts and feelings were on display for Joel to see, leaving you exposed and raw. The memory of your outburst, of his shocked face, weighs heavily on your mind and heart, filling you with a deep sense of shame and regret.

For a moment in that bathroom, you felt yourself transported back to all the times you’d scream at Simon for whatever he did to fuck with your feelings that day, just for him to laugh in your face or call you manipulative when you’d inevitably start crying tears of hurt and frustration.

Does Joel see you differently now, knowing the depths of your insecurities? Will he even want to look you in the eye after witnessing what the real you is like? Have you lost your chance with him, and, did you ever even have one?

You sigh deeply and lick around the top of the ice cream cone to catch the drops threatening to run down, humming at the deliciousness.

You haven’t eaten anything else today, too nauseous from your meds and the knot in the pit of your stomach to find food appetizing. You haven’t slept for more than two consecutive hours, too agitated to find any real peace. You also couldn’t stay home this morning, as your apartment suddenly felt like a cage threatening to suffocate you.

Instead, you’ve spent your day off window shopping, aimlessly wandering from one coffee shop to another, your hands now jittery from too much caffeine on an empty stomach. You’ve ambled down the boardwalk, taking in the sights and sounds surrounding you, before finding yourself drawn to the familiar comfort of the ocean.

From the corner of your eye, you catch the display on your phone lighting up with Joel’s name, the device resting on the bench beside you alongside your bag.

You know you’ll have to take his calls and talk to him like an adult at some point. And you will. But this moment, this moment right here, belongs to you and your thoughts alone.

And to the hermit crab making its way through the sand just a few feet away from you. Your lips curl into a smile as you watch the determined little creature, impressed by its resilience in such an unforgiving world. Maybe you would’ve been happier if you’d been born as a hermit crab. Who knows.

As you swallow the last bit of your cone and lean back, feeling the sun’s gentle warmth on your skin, you can’t help but think of the first time you found yourself on this bench, watching the sunset. It feels like that was an entire lifetime ago, and yet, you vividly remember the overwhelming exhaustion that weighed you down, the sense of loneliness that engulfed you—how utterly lost you felt.

You allow your thoughts to drift, captivated by the soothing cadence of the waves lapping against the shore.

Three years earlier

The sun is down.

Staring into the void, you’re consumed by solitude, the cool breeze coming from the water a thin barrier against the weight pressing on your shoulders. The world seems distant, the murmur of the ocean a mere backdrop to the thoughts swirling in your troubled mind and the beat of your empty heart.

This is it. This is where you were always supposed to be.

You take a deep breath and close your eyes, quietly drifting through the corners of your memory. With each passing moment, you meticulously comb through the fragments of the past few months. They offer no solace, only a stark reminder of how you reached this point.

In the stillness of the evening, you find a strange sense of calm, a numbness that dulls the edges of your emotions. Tears refuse to come, leaving only the echo of relief at the resolution of it all.

You open your eyes again, fixating on the endless mirror of the sky before you. The ocean has always held a special place in your heart. The salty tang in the air, the rhythmic melody of the waves, the laughter of birds mingling with the gentle lull of the breeze—everything.

You dig your naked toes into the sand, relishing the connection to the earth beneath you. The sensation is grounding, peaceful, almost–

“Hey there, sweetheart. Is everything okay?”

A man’s voice, rugged yet gentle, breaks through the silence, interrupting your thoughts. His words dance in the air, pulling you reluctantly back to the present.

Are you kidding me?

With a slow and deliberate movement, you lift your gaze from the horizon, meeting the eyes of the stranger who has disrupted the sanctuary of your thoughts. You rest your elbows on your knees and sigh deeply.

“Oh my fucking god,” you murmur, rubbing your temples in annoyance and disbelief. “The sun’s been down for two minutes, and the first creep’s already here.”

“Wha–”

You look up at him. “Do you have like a radar or something where you get a notification every time a woman sits alone on a bench somewhere?”

The dark-haired man blinks in surprise, his expression caught between confusion and amusement. His brow furrows, his mouth slightly agape as he processes your words. After a moment of absorbing your outlandish accusation, his lips curve into a wry smile.

“Darlin’, I’m just–”

“Look, dude. If you’re here to murder me, could you at least spare me the whole blah blah you’ve got planned and just do it? Thank you.”

You look at him with a raised eyebrow, his eyes crinkling at the corners. He’s not entirely sure if you’re joking, but your sarcastic tone tells him you’re at least not scared of him.

He chuckles softly, shaking his head. “I assure you I got no such plans. Just thought I’d check in on a fellow soul contemplating the mysteries of the universe.”

You roll your eyes, unimpressed by his attempt at humor. “Yeah, well, I prefer to contemplate in peace.”

When he doesn’t budge and just…stares at you with those big, dark eyes of his, you take a moment to size him up.

Your gaze drifts down from his eyes, tracing the contours of his muscular chest visible beneath a fitted white t-shirt. It lingers briefly on the obnoxiously large belt buckle adorning his waist, then travels down the length of his denim-clad legs to his cowboy boots. Despite the surreal encounter, you can’t help but notice how incredibly attractive he is.

God, what’s wrong with you?

“Look, sweetheart,” he says calmly, his voice a blend of warmth and reassurance. “I’m not trying to get into your business or anything, but it’s gonna get pretty chilly out here soon.” He tilts his head and studies your face. “Do you have somewhere to stay?” he asks. “We could go grab a bite to eat if you want, and my place is right arou–”

“How subtle,” you scoff, crossing your arms in front of your chest. “I’m not going home with you, dude.”

“Fair enough, but at least let me call you a cab and wait with you until it arrives, hm?”

His soft voice and patronizing tone are starting to grate on your already frayed nerves. You’ve been sitting here, not taking up any space, minding your own fucking business, and even that wasn’t good enough, apparently.

Okay, world. Hint taken.

“What the hell is your problem?” you blurt out.

“What do you mean? I’m just–I’m trying to help you.”

“Why?” The question bursts from your lips like a dam breaking under pressure, laced with frustration. “Do you see me holding up a sign where I’m asking for your help? Huh? Or is this more about you and some, I dunno, bullshit white knight fantasy you’re acting out?”

Your eyes narrow, fixing on him with a challenging glare, daring him to justify his intrusion into your solitude.

“No,” he responds calmly, his furrowed brow adding gravity to his words. “It’s because I’ve seen enough shit in my life to recognize when someone’s in need.”

The sincerity in his gaze catches you off guard, rendering you momentarily speechless. It’s as if this…stranger is peering into the depths of your soul, seeing past the walls you’ve erected to protect yourself.

His face softens, the lines around his eyes relaxing as he meets yours. “Mind if I take a seat?”

You shrug indifferently, though a flicker of curiosity dances behind your eyes. “Suit yourself.”

He smiles warmly as he settles beside you. “I’m Tommy, by the way,” he offers, extending a hand. You hesitate for a moment, but eventually, you decide to reciprocate by telling him your name and shaking his hand with a soft sigh.

As his hand envelops yours, there’s a brief surge of something unspoken deep inside you, a connection allowing two disparate souls to briefly intertwine before returning to their separate paths again as soon as he lets go.

“Well, it’s very nice to meet you, darlin’,” he says with a twinkle in his eye, his mustache curling slightly as he smiles at you.

The faint scent of his cologne drifts towards you, mixing with the salty aroma of the sea air. As you gaze at him, your eyes trace the lines etched around his eyes and mouth, evidence of a life fully lived. Strangely, there’s something comforting about his presence, something that makes you feel a little less alone.

You give him a subtle smile before turning your head back towards the ocean, mesmerized by the rhythmic crashing of the waves against the shore.

Out of the corner of his eye, Tommy watches you silently, noticing the vacant look in your eyes and the way your gaze seems to be fixed on some distant point beyond the horizon. He furrows his brow slightly, a flicker of concern crossing his features as he contemplates how lost you appear in that moment.

“What are you doing out here, sweetheart?” Tommy’s voice breaks the silence, his tone casual yet curious, as if striking up conversations with strange women on the beach is a regular occurrence for him.

Well, it probably is, you think to yourself.

“I, uh, wanted to watch the sunset,” you answer softly.

“Hm. It’s amazing, isn’t it? Should’ve been here and seen it too instead of wasting my time at that damn bar.”

“Oh? How did you waste your time? Can’t have been that bad, judging by the lipstick stains on your face,” you murmur.

“What? Where?” Tommy blurts out, his eyes widening in surprise as he hastily rubs at his lips and cheeks, searching for any traces of lipstick on his fingers.

You stifle a laugh. “I’m just fucking with you,” you deadpan, shooting him a quick glance.

He stares at you in mock offense for a moment before his lips curl into a wide grin. “Touché,” he says, thoroughly entertained by your dry humor. “But yeah, things didn’t go the way I would’ve liked them to.”

“What, she didn’t wanna go home with you either?”

“Very funny. But no, things were going well.” He sighs dramatically and rubs his forehead. “But then her husband showed up and kinda threw a giant monkey wrench into our plans.”

“Wow, tough break,” you scoff, shaking your head in mock sympathy, “not getting to fuck a married woman. I hate it when that happens.”

Tommy chuckles. “Alright, alright, I didn’t know she was married, for the record. She wasn’t wearing a ring or anything.”

“Sure,” you say, your tone dripping with sarcasm as you cast a skeptical glance in his direction.

“What are you up to, then, darlin’? Hm?” he asks with a raised eyebrow.

“Besides not making out with married women?” You hear Tommy’s laugh beside you and wiggle your toes in the sand. “Just enjoying the ocean, I guess. I’ve missed it.”

“You’re not from here?”

You shake your head. “No, I’m not.”

“Hm. You’re gonna love it. There’s lots of cool things to see and do, especially for young people like you.”

You furrow your brow. “Why are you talking like you’re ninety years old and I’m your estranged grandkid?”

“I dunno,” he sighs, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “I guess…turning forty did something to me.”

“Married women apparently still throw themselves at you. You’re gonna be fine.”

He chuckles, a deep, resonant sound that seems to echo across the beach. “Yeah, I guess you’re right about that.”

You’re both quiet for a moment, punctuated by the gentle sound of the ocean and the occasional cry of seagulls wheeling overhead.

“What brings you here, then?” Tommy asks, observing your profile. You look tired.

“I told you, watching the sunset.”

“No, I mean what brings you into town? Vacation or family or something?”

You turn to look at him, tilting your head slightly as you study his expression. “Why do you care?”

“Just making conversation,” he says with a smile, a glint of genuine curiosity shining in his eyes. “You don’t have to tell me. We can talk about something else if you want.”

“Like what?”

“Like did you know it’s illegal to own just one guinea pig in Switzerland?”

Your bewildered look amuses him.

“It’s true. You’re required, by law, to get your guinea pig a little guinea pig friend. They won’t sell you just one. Isn’t that the cutest thing you’ve ever heard?”

You stare at him, shaking your head slowly. “What kind of women do you pull if this is how you flirt?”

Tommy raises an eyebrow. “Who says I’m flirting?”

“Uh-huh,” you say with a smirk, then turn your head back towards the water. “But what if they want to be alone?”

“Hm?”

“What if you get a guinea pig in Switzerland and you have to buy a second one to keep it company but the first guinea pig actually just wants to be alone on a bench and then some other guinea pig with a mustache shows up and asks weird questions? What then?”

“Well,” Tommy starts, happy that you’re seemingly warming up a bit. “I think the first guinea pig would quickly realize that the other, dashingly handsome guinea pig isn’t that bad and just wants to be friends. And then they’d be friends and run around together and eat hay or whatever.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah, and you know, I think us humans aren’t that different from them. I don’t think we’re meant to be alone either.”

You look at him. “Is that why you came to talk to me? Because you don’t want me to be alone?”

“Would that be so bad?”

“I guess not,” you murmur softly, your gaze drifting to the patch of dry skin on the back of your right hand. “And I’m, uh, not here for any special reason. I just…needed a break from home, I suppose.”

“And you have a place to stay, darlin’?” Tommy’s voice carries a gentle concern as he leans slightly closer, trying to see your eyes.

“Yeah, I booked a hotel room a few minutes from here,” you lie smoothly. “With sea-view and everything. Just haven’t checked in yet.”

“Where did you put all your stuff?”

“My stuff?”

“Yeah, your clothes and teddy bears and whatnot.”

You nudge the backpack sitting on the ground next to you with your naked foot. “This is my stuff.”

“Oh.” You must have really wanted to get away if you traveled this lightly, Tommy contemplates silently.

He used to do the same, packing a bag and escaping, seeking solace in the open road. But he learned the hard way that you can’t outrun your problems. They always find a way to catch up with you, no matter how far you go.

He gives you a sympathetic smile. “Have you had dinner already?”

“I had a bagel at the airport this morning,” you say nonchalantly.

Tommy’s brows furrow slightly, his eyes widening in disbelief. “Are you serious?”

“Yup.” If you had even the slightest bit of energy left inside of you, you’d find his shocked face amusing.

“Okay, that’s just unacceptable. Wait.” He retrieves his phone from his pocket and opens a food delivery app. “What kind of pizza do you want?”

You shake your head. “I don’t want pi–”

“Yes, you do. I’m not gonna have you starving on my watch.”

You raise an eyebrow. “On your watch?”

“Yeah, on my watch. Now, what kind of topping–”

“Pineapple.”

“Excuse me?”

“Pine. Apple.”

“Oh, but I’m the weirdo,” he mutters, shaking his head and giving you the side-eye as he reluctantly adds pineapple as a topping to your pizza. “Anything else? Anchovies? Corn? My tears?”

“Jesus, don’t have a heart attack. Are you Italian or something?”

“No, just not a complete monster.”

You can’t help but chuckle, your smile lighting up your face for the first time in what feels like ages. Tommy’s eyes linger on you a moment too long, captivated by your sudden radiance, before he tears his gaze away as your smile fades once more.

Clearing his throat, he shifts his attention back to his task, fingers tapping away as he types the description of your location for the delivery.

“Should arrive in twenty minutes, the app says.”

You nod and lean back, fiddling with the hem of your shirt as you watch the waves again.

“When did you decide to fly out here?”

“Last night.”

“How? Why?”

“Simple. I took out a map, closed my eyes, and this is where my finger landed. And as for the why…well, home just didn’t feel like home anymore, you know?”

“Hm. I know that feeling.”

You turn your head and look into his warm eyes. “You do?”

“Oh yeah. It took me almost a decade after retiring from active duty to feel home again, or like I was safe, or like I belonged. It’s, uh, not easy to get that feeling back once you’ve lost it. I’m sorry you’re going through that,” Tommy says with a somber tone. He really is sorry.

You look at him for a moment and give him a tired smile. “It’s okay,” you say with a shrug of your shoulders. “It wasn’t home to begin with. Not really.”

“Whatever your reasons are, you’re brave for leaving.”

You scoff. “Yeah, sure, I’m brave for running away.”

“Sweetheart…”

“Look, it’s okay. You don’t need to try and make me feel better ‘cause I’m not sad. But I’m also not gonna act like I’m not a coward who accepted far too much shit for far too long ‘cause I’m very much not brave.”

You sigh deeply. “I should’ve gotten the fuck out of that miserable town and relationship years ago. But now it’s too late.”

Tommy furrows his brow and opens his mouth to say something, but you cut him off.

“Are you married?”

“No, darlin’, I’m not married.”

“Girlfriend?”

“No girlfriend.”

“So there’s no one special in your life right now?”

“Nothing serious, no. No attachments for me.”

“Hm. No attachments,” you murmur. “That sounds nice.”

Tommy nods. “It is, most of the time at least. But I’d be lying if I said I didn’t miss being in love.”

“You’ve been in love before?” You tilt your head and look at him with genuine curiosity.

“A few times, yeah.”

“And the women you were with…they loved you?”

“Yeah, they did.” The soft smile lighting up his face tells you he has pleasant memories of his former partners. How nice that must be.

“Do you ever wonder why it didn’t work out?”

Tommy’s expression turns introspective, his gaze drifting towards the horizon as if searching for answers in the distant waves.

“I have,” he admits after a pause, his voice carrying a hint of wistfulness. “But I guess that’s just how life goes sometimes. People drift apart, circumstances change, life changes...”

“Do you think it’s possible to hate someone you love?”

Your question catches him off guard, and the look in your eyes concerns him. “Well,” he says calmly, carefully choosing his words, “I can’t say I’ve ever had that experience, but I could imagine that’s how my brother felt about me back when I was spiraling and he had to watch me make bad decision after bad decision. He loved me, I know he always has, but he also hated me for what I was doing.”

“Sounds like a good brother,” you say, mustering a smile.

“He really is. Do you have any siblings?”

“Yeah, but I don’t talk to them,” you say, your tone betraying a hint of sadness before you quickly mask it with indifference. “My, uh…best friend was like my sister though.”

“Was?”

“Yeah, you know,” you murmur, the smile on your lips not matching the bitterness in your tone, “that friendship kinda ended after I saw her sitting on my boyfriend’s lap, shoving her tongue down his throat.”

“What the hell? When was that?”

“Hmm, about a month ago. And you wanna know the real kicker? They’ve been fucking for like half a year. My best friend and my boyfriend. Laughing their asses off behind my back. Hilarious, isn’t it?”

“I’m so sorry, darlin’. They’re shitty people for doing that to you. You didn’t deserve any–”

“How do you know that?”

“Know what?”

“How do you know that I didn’t deserve it? You don’t know me, you don’t know anything about me.”

“I may not know you,” Tommy says gently, “but I know that no one deserves to be treated like that, especially by the people they trust. It’s hard sometimes to see things objectively because we’re our own worst enemies, but I’m telling you, you didn’t deserve that.”

“I’m not sure that’s true.”

“What makes you say that?”

You look into his eyes, and the pain he can see in yours breaks his heart.

“Because, I fucking loved it. Everything he did to me, all these years. I loved it. I could’ve left him after he cheated on me for the first time, the second time, the hundredth time, but no. I loved how he came crawling back to me time and time again, promising me the world, telling me he only loved me.”

You pull away, hands resting on his chest as you try to find your words. Simon’s intense gaze has your mind swirling with conflicting emotions, and your heart pounding in your chest. “I can’t do this anymore,” you whisper, your body trembling as he presses you against the wall with his body. “You–you say you’ll change, you say you’ll never do it again, you say you regret hurting me. And I forgive you. Every time. But nothing ever changes. You do it again and again, not caring how much you hurt me.” He places a hand on the wall next to your head, pushing your shirt up around your waist with the other, his touch on your naked skin sending a shiver down your spine. He looks down at you with a hint of amusement, a devious smirk appearing on his face as he searches your pleading eyes. “I’m serious, Simon,” you insist, unsuccessfully trying to convince yourself of what you’re saying. “I’m done.” Leaning in, he traces your neck with his nose, your heavy breathing and the way your tits press against his chest making his cock twitch in his jeans. “Is that so?” he murmurs against your skin before softly sucking and kissing on your flesh. “Why are you doing this?” you breathe, instinctively wrapping your arms around him, your fingers gripping his shoulders as you draw him closer. His leg between yours presses against your core, and you can’t help but whimper desperately at the feeling. “I love you,” he whispers, his warm breath gently caressing the curve of your ear, his words piercing your heart like a poisonous dart. “No, you don’t,” you murmur, your voice heavy with sadness, your eyes betraying the turmoil raging within you. Despite the ache in your heart, a part of you still yearns for the comfort of his touch, the familiarity of his presence, the illusion of affection he gives you. You need him, need to feel him, need him to love you—even if it kills you. In this moment of vulnerability, you surrender to the torrent of emotions flooding your senses, pressing your lips against his in a desperate attempt to drown out the pain, to silence the screams that plague your mind—eagerly drinking his poison straight from the source. Tangling your fingers in his hair, you pull him closer, offering yourself up to him with each rough tug, fervent kiss, and harsh bite to his lips. He matches your energy, gripping the back of your neck with a bruising hold as he hastily opens his jeans to free his cock. “I hate you,” you choke out, the words laced with bitterness and the raw intensity of your need for him as your heart races and your vision blurs. “Whatever you gotta tell yourself, baby,” Simon murmurs with a smirk, his words a cruel reminder of the tangled web of emotions that binds you to him, even as you struggle to break free. With a deft movement, he pulls aside your panties, sliding his hard cock through your wet folds as he holds your leg up around his waist. “Oh fuck,” you moan as he pushes inside you in one harsh thrust, your fingernails reflexively digging into his scalp. Overwhelming pleasure mingles with the anguish of your body betraying you, even as your mind screams in protest. Your walls clench around Simon with fierce intensity, his repeated thrusts against your G-spot having you close to orgasm within a minute. “Tell me, baby,” he pants, his eyes gleaming with triumph and satisfaction as he watches in real time how his poison travels through your entire body, your mind, intoxicating your very being with his essence. “Tell me how much you hate me while you come on my cock.”

You tilt your head and give Tommy a tired smile. “Isn’t that the most pathetic thing you’ve ever heard?”

“No, sweetheart, you’re not pathetic for wanting to be loved. You’re human and our feelings can be…complicated, irrational, dangerous. But you got yourself away from a toxic situation despite your feelings and that takes a lot of strength.”

“Hm.” You draw shapes into the sand with your toes, your heart heavy in your chest.

“Is he…why you left? You had to get away from him?”

“Surprisingly, no,” you say pensively, lost in thought as you fold one leg beneath you on the bench. “Things weren’t that bad after I decided not to care anymore. You know you can just wake up one day and realize it hurts a lot less to just not care about anything? Amazing. So yeah, that’s what I did.” You shrug and rub your left thumb with your right one.

“Of course, he didn’t like that at all, not being able to emotionally drain me anymore. He even told me I was depressed or some shit, acting like he cared, when all he actually missed was me giving him the reactions he wanted,” you scoff, bitterness dripping from your lips. “Coincidentally, that’s when he and my best friend started fucking.”

“I’m so sorry, darlin’, that’s beyond fucked up. Do you, uh, have someone to talk to about all this?”

You raise an eyebrow. “You mean apart from handsome cowboys in too-tight jeans late at night?”

“Did you just call me handsome?”

“Don’t think so,” you give him a playful smile, then turn your head to watch the waves doing their mesmerizing dance. Despite the light-hearted banter, a hint of sadness flickers across your face. “But no, I don’t have anyone left.”

Tommy’s expression softens, his eyes reflecting a mix of empathy and concern as he listens to your words. He reaches out, but catches himself before his hand comes to rest on your shoulder.

“Why did you leave?” he asks gently.

“I saw her.”

“Who?”

“Laura. My best friend,” you say, shuddering at her name. “I came out of the hospital yesterday, stood at a red light, and then I saw her. Looking right at me from the other side of the street. We hadn’t talked since before I almost died a month ago, ‘cause she never bothered to answer any of my calls or texts…and there she was. Daring to look at me with those fake-ass tears in her eyes like she isn’t a fucking sociopath.”

“What did you do?”

“I just…looked at her, knowing I could never see her again. I walked away, went to mine and Simon’s apartment, grabbed a few things, and went to the airport.”

“And now you’re here.”

“And now I’m here.”

The weight of your experience hangs heavy in the air, casting a somber shadow over the conversation. Tommy nods thoughtfully as he absorbs your words, until he suddenly shakes his head, chastising himself for his own stupidity.

“Okay wait, I’m sorry, but did you just say you almost died? What the hell happened?”

“Oh,” you scoff, a wide smile spreading across your face, its brightness contrasting sharply with the dullness in your eyes, “it’s nothing. One of my fallopian tubes burst ‘cause my dumbass gynecologist failed to diagnose an ectopic pregnancy, so I was hemorrhaging and had to have emergency surgery to get it removed.”

Tommy’s reaction is visceral: his eyes widen in shock, and his mouth falls open slightly, a silent gasp escaping him as the gravity of your words, spoken with horrifying casualness, hits him like a punch to the gut.

“Jesus Christ, darlin’...”

“But hey, the doctor said I’m completely fine at the check-up yesterday, so I guess that’s what I am.” You shrug and smile at him, but your attempt to lighten the mood falls flat.

“Darlin’, I’m so sor–”

“Don’t, please. It’s okay,” you interrupt softly, shaking your head. “My ex told me to have an abortion when I told him I was pregnant, and I wouldn’t have been a good mom anyway, so it’s best for the baby that it wasn’t born into the shitshow that is my life.”

“Dar–”

“I swear to God, Tommy, if you say ‘darlin’’ in that stupid, sexy accent of yours one more time,” you cut him off with a playful glare.

He smiles at you, though worry lingers in his eyes and tugs at his heart.

“I’ve always wanted to live near the ocean,” you muse, welcoming the breeze cooling your hot face down. “It’s kind of poetic that my journey ends here.”

“It really is beautiful here, I’m sure you’d love livi–” Tommy starts, but you’re not hearing him.

“You know, I have this recurring dream where I drown, but instead of feeling panicked or scared I just feel peaceful, light. Like the weight of the world is lifted off my shoulders. I don’t thrash or struggle, I just…let the water take me under and I can finally breathe.”

Concern flashes in Tommy’s eyes, but he quickly masks it with a calm expression, not wanting to alarm you.

“That sounds intense,” he responds gently, choosing his words carefully. “Dreams can be strange sometimes, but that one sounds like it’s trying to tell you something. Maybe it’s your mind’s way of processing all the heavy things that’ve been weighing on you."

He shifts slightly closer to you, his tone soft and reassuring. “But you know, maybe it’s worth exploring with a therapist or someone who can help you unpack it. Sometimes talking about these things can bring some clarity and relief.”

“Yeah, maybe,” you say absentmindedly.

“Darlin’, please look at me,” Tommy’s voice breaks through the haze of your thoughts, his gaze penetrating through the fog of your mind. If you had any tears left to cry, the sincerity in his eyes would surely coax them out right about now.

“About what you said earlier…you–you don’t deserve people treating you badly, or any of the bad things that happen to you. You never did, you hear me? You were supposed to be loved, protected and cared for, but you weren’t, and that’s not fair, and most certainly not your fault.”

You tilt your head, studying his face intently. Why does he care? Why couldn’t he just leave you alone? But hey, he’s trying to be nice, and it’s not like you’re ever going to see him again. So, you’re trying to be nice back.

“Thanks,” you say softly, mustering a smile. “But enough about me and my dumpster fire of a life.” You shift in your seat, untucking your leg and stretching it out in front of you.

“I’d rather hear about you and how you get your hair to be this healthy. I can never get mine to look that good. Do you think it’s because I just eat garbage, don’t drink enough water and don’t get enough sunlight?”

Tommy chuckles and nods understandingly, recognizing your attempt to shift gears, and decides to play along until you both hear the pizza guy calling for you.

Your insistence to pay for your own pizza and drink falls on deaf ears, so you begrudgingly accept Tommy’s invitation and thank him for ordering food. Surprisingly, you find yourself ravenously hungry after taking the first few bites of your pineapple pizza—that you originally only wanted to mess with Tommy. But even he has to admit it isn’t half bad after you make him eat a slice.

As you’re eating together and the night deepens around you, the street lamps along the boardwalk spending enough light, you ask Tommy about his life.

He shares his journey of enlisting in the army as a teenager, grappling with PTSD upon his return, and navigating through troubled times. He tells you about the unwavering support of his brother and how therapy helped him cope with his demons. You delve deeper, asking him about his wishes for the future, about his hopes and dreams.

You enjoy hearing about his life, about his experiences that are so different from yours. It’s comforting to get lost in someone else’s story for a bit. It’s a refuge, a welcome escape from your own tiring existence.

Pizzas devoured, you sit side by side, enveloped in the soothing melody of the ocean’s whispers. Time seems to lose its grip as you share both laughter and quiet, the minutes and hours slipping away unnoticed like grains of sand carried by the tide.

As tranquility settles between you, the world around you seemingly forgotten, a question gnaws at your insides, its weight palpable in the silence. It’s a question you’re reluctant to voice aloud, knowing it will rupture the delicate bubble you and Tommy have found yourselves in. Yet, it persists, demanding acknowledgment, refusing to be ignored.

You take a deep breath.

“Tommy?”

“Yeah?”

“Can I ask you something?”

He gives you a reassuring smile. “Of course, darlin’.”

“Why won’t you go home?”

Oh. Tommy looks deeply into your eyes, his own filled with turmoil, and finds that he can’t lie to you.

“I can’t,” he admits softly, turning his gaze towards the distant horizon.

You nod slowly, turning your head towards the water as well. “You know why I’m here.”

“Yes,” he says simply, his acknowledgment laden with a quiet understanding.

You steal a glance at him, your eyes searching for comfort in the weary lines on his face. With a tentative gesture, you place your hand on the bench between you, a subtle invitation for connection.

Tommy, sensing your unspoken plea, catches the movement from the corner of his eye. His gaze meets yours as you turn your head, and in that shared moment of vulnerability, he understands. Without a word, he responds, reaching out to cover your hand with his own.

His touch is protective, a silent promise that you’re not alone.

“Do you…do you think that makes me a bad person?” you whisper, your voice trembling as you lay bare the depths of your fears.

“No,” he responds softly, his gaze meeting yours with unwavering sincerity. “You’re not a bad person for feeling the way you do.”

For the first time since your miscarriage, tears glisten in your eyes, shimmering like fragments of shattered dreams under the moonlight. Tommy’s words offer a glimmer of solace, touching your broken heart.

Silence settles between you two, heavy with shared pain. You sit like that for a while, two strangers finding kinship in the gentle embrace of this summer night.

Gently squeezing your hand, Tommy turns to look at you after a few minutes. “I need you to do something for me,” he says, his voice tinged with urgency. You look into his eyes, finding comfort in the warmth of his presence.

“Please stay with me tonight,” he pleads, his fingers tightening around yours, anchoring you to the present moment as if afraid you might slip away into the night.

“We can stay here, we can go for drinks, we can go dancing, we can break into the zoo—whatever you want, sweetheart. We don’t have to talk about anything, and I promise I won’t bother you anymore if tomorrow you decide that’s what you want, but please give me a chance to show you that I ca–”

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Okay.”

As the gentle breeze around you whispers secrets of hope and renewal, you find yourself nodding in agreement, a silent promise to give him the chance he so earnestly seeks—to let him show you the light that flickers within the darkness.

Tommy is momentarily stunned as he searches your face for any sign of hesitation. But there’s none to be found—only a quiet resolve that speaks volumes. A wave of relief washes over him, and he can’t hold back the wide grin spreading across his face.

“So, there’s a place a few minutes from here where we could dance, or there’s the bar I went to earlier, or we could–”

“Tommy?”

“Yes, darlin’?”

“I’m tired. Could we maybe…could we go home?”

Tommy’s face lights up even more. “Yes, yes, of course, darlin’. My place is right around the corner.”

“Great,” you say with a small smile.

You put your socks and sneakers back on, your movements slow and unsteady after hours of sitting. As you stand up for the first time, your legs wobble beneath you, but Tommy is quick to react, reaching out to steady you with his hands on your waist.

“Sorry,” you mumble, cheeks heating up as you realize your hands are gripping his shoulders for support.

“That’s alright, darlin’. I got you.”

“You’re so cheesy, you know that?” you say with a playful roll of your eyes before removing your hands and taking a step back.

“Look me in the eye and tell me it’s not working,” he teases back with a smirk.

“Whatever. Can we go?” You raise an eyebrow, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips.

“After you, my lady,” Tommy says with a gallant flourish, gesturing for you to go first. You shake your head with a theatrical sigh, but play along and start walking.

He falls into step beside you, eager to lift your spirits with an array of random animal facts he’s accumulated over the years, and, much to your amusement, with some particularly funny stories about failed hookups, like the one from tonight.

As you draw closer to his apartment, he suddenly sucks in a sharp breath and comes to a halt.

“What’s wrong?” you ask.

“I’m so sorry, I forgot to ask if you need anything.”

“Like what?”

“I dunno, tampons, make-up wipes, solution for your contacts, hair conditioner, lotion—I don’t think I have any of that at home, but there’s a convenience sto–”

“It’s okay,” you reassure him, touched by his consideration. “I got all my essentials in my backpack and really don’t need anything fancy. Thank you, though.”

“Are you–”

“Yes, I’m sure,” you interrupt softly. “Thank you.”

Arriving at Tommy’s apartment, you’re struck by its elegant yet welcoming nature. It’s spacious and tastefully furnished, with a modern aesthetic that speaks to Tommy’s discerning taste. You can’t help but wonder if his job as a contractor affords him such a nice living space or if he’s secretly a trust fund kid—or a very successful drug dealer.

“Must be nice,” you think to yourself.

As Tommy ushers you inside, you’re enveloped in a sense of warmth and comfort as the space feels distinctly homey, with its wooden furnishings and cozy accents that evoke a rustic charm. The polished hardwood floors gleam under soft lamplight, casting a warm glow throughout the living room.

Tommy assures you that you’re welcome to make yourself at home as he heads into the kitchen to get you a glass of water.

Despite its hominess, the apartment remains impeccably clean and organized—a testament, perhaps, to Tommy’s meticulous nature. Every surface is spotless, every item in its proper place, reflecting a discipline that may well stem from his army training.

As you explore further, you do notice small touches that hint at Tommy’s personality—framed photos of him and his friends, a worn but well-loved armchair and couch positioned opposite the TV, horse figurines on the sideboard, and a few potted plants scattered throughout, adding a touch of life to the space.

Your eyes are eventually drawn to the record player nestled in one corner, surrounded by a collection of vinyl records. The sight brings a smile to your face, appreciating the nostalgic feeling it gives you. You’re pretty sure you used to have the same model in your childhood home.

“Here you go, sweetheart,” you hear Tommy’s voice behind you as he hands you the glass of water with a knowing smile. “You like Jazz?”

“Thanks. And yeah, I guess?”

“Okay, wait a sec.” He moves with practiced ease, flipping through his collection of vinyl records until he finds the one he’s looking for. With a gentle touch, he carefully removes the chosen record from its sleeve, handling it delicately as if it were a precious artifact.

You sip on your water and watch in fascination as he places the record onto the turntable, the soft click of the needle finding its groove. As the first notes of a smooth jazz melody fill the air, you can’t help but smile, the music enveloping you in its warm embrace.

Tommy catches your eye and grins, nodding in approval as if to say, “See, I knew you’d like it.”

You roll your eyes and nudge his arm with your elbow.

“Want me to show you around?”

“Sure.”

“Okay, so this is the bedroom,” he says, leading you down the hallway and into the room where you’ll be sleeping. The bed sits neatly made, its dark sheets promising a restful night ahead. “I’ll change the sheets for you in a bit, okay? And I’ll be sleeping in the living room on the couch.”

“I, uh,” you murmur, but stop yourself, shaking your head. “No, forget it.”

“What is it? It’s okay, you can tell me.” He searches your eyes as you meet his gaze, waiting patiently for you to answer him.

“Could you maybe…not change the sheets?”

Tommy’s eyebrows raise in surprise, but he doesn’t make it awkward. Instead, he nods understandingly and immediately assures you, “Sure, I’ll leave the bed as it is then.”

You offer him a grateful smile and as if sensing your need for comfort, he asks, “Do you need a shirt to sleep?” Without waiting for your response, he retrieves one of his shirts and hands it to you.

“Thank you,” you say quietly, taking the shirt from him and holding it close. It’s soft and smells nice.

“And here’s the bathroom,” Tommy continues, leading you through the space. “Feel free to take a shower if you want. Spare towels are here, and there’s a new toothbrush in the cabinet here. Toothpaste is over there. I even got fancy face masks if you wanna try, they’re in here. You think you got everything you need?”

“I think so,” you smile at him before leaving the bathroom to grab your backpack.

As you’re about to head back, Tommy slips in ahead of you. You watch as he discreetly removes all the razor blades, a silent but clear gesture of concern for your well-being. You understand what he’s doing, and although it stirs a pang of humiliation and shame inside you, you don’t say anything and act like you didn’t see it.

After he leaves the bathroom, you take a moment to compose yourself before closing the door, peeing, taking off your clothes, and catching a glimpse of the small surgery scars on your belly. They appear to be healing well, already looking much better than even a week ago.

With a deep breath, you turn on the shower, allowing the warm water to cascade over your body, soothing away some of your tension. As you lather up, enveloped in the steam and the rich scent of Tommy’s body wash, there’s a knock on the door, interrupting your thoughts.

“Darlin’?” Tommy’s voice sounds through the door.

“Yeah?”

“Just wanted to check if you were okay.”

“I’m okay. But you seriously need to start buying body wash for adults, dude. I’m gonna be smelling like a fourteen-year-old boy now, and I don’t know how to feel about it,” you tease.

“Ha ha, you brat. Enjoy your shower.”

You smile to yourself and appreciate how clean Tommy’s shower is as, in your experience, that is not something you can count on with men who live alone.

As you lather shampoo into your hair, you close your eyes, allowing yourself a moment of peace amidst the chaos of recent events. It’s all so surreal.

Once rinsed, you step out of the shower and wrap yourself in one of Tommy’s plush towels, the soft fabric hugging your body in a tight embrace. With the steam still lingering in the air, you take your time cleaning your face, brushing your teeth and detangling your wet hair, these simple acts of self-care something you’ve neglected in the weeks prior.

Luckily, your past self decided to pack a fresh pair of panties and a pair of soft yoga pants you can change into now, Tommy’s shirt completing your pajamas for tonight.

Slowly, you step out of the bathroom, the soft light of the living room floor lamp casting a warm glow on the scene before you. Tommy’s sitting on the couch, bathed in the gentle ambiance of the record player’s music.

With a glass of whiskey in hand, he seems lost in thought, fingers rhythmically tapping against the glass, his eyes focused on the spinning vinyl. As you approach, he looks up, a small smile gracing his lips as he welcomes you to join him.

“Okay yeah, I get it,” he quips, his tone playful as he notices how perfectly his shirt accentuates your eye color. “You look better in my shirt than I ever could. There’s really no need to rub it in.”

Chuckling, you settle into the cushion beside him, feeling the warmth of his presence. It feels oddly comforting to be close to him again, his cologne a familiar scent.

But as you sit beside him now, something shifts in the air, a subtle change that you can’t quite pinpoint. It’s as if a newfound awareness has settled between you, casting a different light on the space you share. And as you steal glances at Tommy, you start to feel restless, your heart rate quickening.

Oh.

The realization dawns on you slowly, creeping in like the first light of dawn, illuminating the depths of your emotions. You find yourself unable to tear your gaze away from him, mesmerized by the way he sits on the couch, his posture relaxed yet undeniably confident.

Your eyes trail over the breadth of his shoulders, down his strong arms, his sculpted torso, and settle on his spread thighs, the subtle flex of muscles visible beneath the fabric of his jeans. Each movement, each shift of his body, only serves to deepen the intensity of your attraction to him.

You’re in trouble.

His handsome face holds a certain allure, drawing you in with its rugged charm—especially with those warm eyes and the beautiful facial hair. As you look at him, really take him in, you can’t deny the flutter of arousal stirring deep within you.

A flutter that’s enough to urge your scrambled brain to make a move.

Tommy catches your prolonged stare, and his brows furrow slightly, a hint of curiosity flickering in his eyes. You gather the courage to ask for a sip of his whiskey, unwittingly biting your lip as you wait for his answer.

“Of course, darlin’,” he agrees, leaning in with a broad smile, bringing the glass closer to you.

As your fingers brush against his on the glass, you feel a surge of electricity pass between you. His pupils dilate ever so slightly, his gaze locked onto yours. You take the glass from him, your fingers lingering on his for a moment longer than necessary.

Raising the glass to your lips, you take a slow sip, relishing the smooth warmth of the whiskey as it slides down your throat. Your eyes never leave his as you lick your lips, the gesture not lost on Tommy as he watches you intently.

The flicker of desire in his eyes tells you that he’s captivated by your silent invitation, but as Tommy accepts the glass back, a faint frown tugs at his brow, his expression suddenly tense.

“Darlin’, don’t look at me like that,” he murmurs, his voice husky with restraint.

You raise an eyebrow, feigning innocence as you ask, “Why not?”

“Because,” he breathes out, “it’s making me want to do things I shouldn’t.”

“Hmm, but what if I told you that I want to do those things, too?”

Tommy swallows hard as you scoot closer to him, his eyes never leaving yours. His pulse quickens, evident in the subtle rise and fall of his chest, his mind racing with a thousand thoughts, unsure of what to do or say next.

When your hand lands gently above his knee, his body tenses at your touch. His lips part slightly, as if he’s about to speak, but all he manages is a heavy breath.

“Tell me to stop,” you whisper, your voice barely audible as you lean in slowly, searching his eyes. You can see the conflict raging within him, desire warring with restraint, and you wait for his response.

With a shaky exhale, his gaze drops down to your lips, his entire being filled with longing and uncertainty. But as your palm wanders up his thigh, drawing closer and closer to his growing erection, his resolve begins to crumble like sand underfoot.

Unable to resist any longer, he leans in, closing the distance between you, his lips meeting yours in a tender yet fervent kiss. His hand instinctively finds the back of your neck, his fingers threading through your wet hair as he pulls you closer, deepening the kiss with a quiet urgency.

Feeling you so close, feeling your soft lips against his, he surrenders to the moment, to the sweet sensation of your embrace, letting himself be consumed by the taste of you.

And yet, in the back of his mind, he’s painfully aware of the circumstances of your meeting.

“I don’t think…this…is a good idea,” Tommy mumbles breathlessly against your lips as you whine needily for more.

“I don’t care,” you breathe, pulling back for a moment to hold onto his shoulders and straddle his lap. His cock twitches in his jeans as you scoot forward, your warm core putting delicious pressure on it. Smiling, you put your hands on his chest and lean in to kiss him again. He cups your face with his hands, kissing you back deeply before nudging your nose with his.

You open your eyes and meet his gaze, his pupils so dilated his brown eyes are almost completely black.

“Let me look at you, baby” he murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper, sending shivers down your spine. With a smile, you straighten up and place your hands behind you on his thighs, giving him a great view of your spread thighs and torso.

“Is this okay?” Tommy asks softly as he traces your thighs with his palms, his touch sending tingles of anticipation through your body.

You nod your head yes, and his lips curve into a smile as his eyes roam your body and face with adoration. His hands wander over your hips, under the shirt you’re wearing, along your waist and further up, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake.

“You’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen,” he murmurs, his eyes piercing yours as his hands come to rest on your waist.

“I’m sure you say that to every girl willing to sit on your lap,” you tease with a smirk, putting your hands on his chest. You can feel his heartbeat under your palm.

“Yeah, but with you I mean it.” His words carry a weight of sincerity as one hand reaches out to tenderly caress your cheek, while the other glides over the soft skin of your back. “C’mere baby.”

As you lean in, his lips capture yours with an almost desperate hunger, his kiss rough and deep, as if he fears you might vanish if he doesn’t hold onto you tightly enough. His hands glide to your lower back, hovering just above your ass, hesitant to go further yet craving to pull you closer, to feel every inch of you pressed against him, to consume you whole.

“You don’t have to be so gentle. I won’t break,” you say softly, leading his hands down to your ass. You hum in satisfaction as he grabs it, feeling the strain of his arousal against your aching pussy.

“Tommy,” you whine quietly against his lips, begging him to understand how desperately you need him.

Lost in the moment, you both sink deeper into the kiss, the world around you fading away until there’s only the heat of each other’s bodies and the rhythm of your shared desire. Your fingers tangle in his hair, pulling him closer as his hands roam your back, igniting sparks of pleasure with every touch.

But as the intensity of your kiss grows, so does the weight of uncertainty. Tommy pulls back slightly, his breathing heavy as he searches your eyes for reassurance.

“Are you sure about this?” he whispers. “We don’t have to…”

“I want you, Tommy,” you purr, your eyes glazed.

Your hips rock against him, trying to relieve the tension that has grown between your thighs, eliciting a deep groan from him. His hands move to your waist, helping you grind against him.

“Oh shit,” he pants, reveling in the needy moans leaving your lips. “I don’t wanna hurt you, baby,” he admits with a soft shake of his head, looking at you with wide eyes, still moving you against the bulge in his jeans.

“You’re not gonna hurt me,” you breathe, leaning in to kiss and suck at his sensitive neck, leaving purple marks behind. You feel his grip tighten, his restraint slipping as he responds to your touch with a low groan.

Lost in the overload of sensations—feeling your warm body, your soft lips and wet tongue, your urgent movements on him, hearing your moans and whispered pleas—Tommy is ready to give you what you both want.

But right as he’s opening his belt with deft fingers, he inadvertently turns his head and catches his reflection in the window. Watching you writhe on top of him, clutching his shirt, his own face twisted in ecstasy, a sharp pang of guilt shoots through him.

This isn’t right. He shouldn’t be doing this.

You move to kiss his lips again, but as you do so, you catch the concern in his eyes, and your heart sinks. “Hey,” you whisper, your brow furrowed, an anxious smile on your lips.

Your fingers trail gently through his hair, seeking reassurance, but when his movements cease and his touch withdraws, panic floods your senses.

“No, no please don’t stop,” you beg, your desperation evident in every word. You press against him, your hips moving with urgency, aching for the connection you crave so deeply. “I need you.”

Your hands gently cup his cheeks, your pleading eyes flitting between his.

“Please? Tommy?”

Feeling something bump against your leg, you’re called back to the present.

“Oh, hi there, buddy,” you coo, looking down at the toddler who just faceplanted in front of you. You lean down and offer your hand to help him up. “What are you up to, hm? Just running around?”

He looks up at you with wide eyes, his face breaking into a toothy grin. “You wanna sit up here and wait for your mommy?” You lift him up, putting more pressure on your bandaged hand than you should, and set him down beside you. “Great view, huh?”

He babbles something unintelligible, his little arms flailing as his excited laughter fills the air. “You’re so right, buddy,” you agree, following his gaze to the sparkling blue, “the ocean is beautiful.”

“Benji? Oh, there you are,” a lady in a swimsuit calls out, walking towards you with a relieved smile. “I’m sorry for disturbing you,” she says to you, her tone apologetic. “Benji, how many times have I told you not to run away, hm?”

The toddler giggles in response to his mom’s reproach, his little arms reaching out for her. You can’t help but laugh along with him.

“Think twice before you decide to have kids,” the lady says with a deep sigh, lifting her son onto her hip. “They’re not always as cute as they look.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” you chuckle.

“Say bye to the nice lady,” she prompts, her voice warm and gentle.

Benji turns to you, his eyes bright with innocence, and waves enthusiastically with his chubby little hand.

“Bye Benji,” you coo, returning his wave with a big smile, your heart warmed by his adorable gesture.

You sigh and look at your phone. You have two new messages from Tommy.

Maria says she can’t wait to see you tomorrow. And that she’ll personally drag you here if you decide not to show up.

You’re family and there’s nothing you can do to escape us ;)

You swallow hard and can feel your puffy, irritated eyes starting to water behind your black glasses. What the fuck did you ever do in your insignificant life to deserve this kind of love?

Your phone lights up with another text from Tommy.

just accept it <3

You snort and shake your head. You’re so grateful for his friendship. It has changed a lot over the last couple of years, of course it has, especially after he started dating Maria, and more recently since you started…seeing his brother without telling him.

But the fact that you’re still honoring your yearly tradition to have your late-night talk on this very bench, is a testament to the depth of your bond. It’s a cherished ritual, marking the anniversary of your first meeting. You meet here, under the evening sky, exchanging stories and laughter, and indulging in pizza after sunset.

Two years ago, Tommy told you he met someone before you left his apartment the next morning.

“Sweetheart?” “Yeah?” “I, uh, I got something to tell you.” “Shoot.” “I met someone.” Your fingers halt as you’re tying your shoes, the world around you suddenly still as his words sink in. You stare at the floor, tension building in your heart. “We’ve only been on two dates, but I–” “Really like her,” you finish his sentence as you tie the laces into a knot, straighten up and meet his gaze. “Yes.” That’s it, then. You’ve been replaced. “Does that,” you clear your throat that feels incredibly tight now, your voice shaking, “does that mean we can’t hang out anymore?” Tears well up in your eyes as you feel a rush of panic flood through you. You look down and try to blink back the tears threatening to spill over. “Of course not,” Tommy says, his tone gentle yet firm. “Nothing and no one in the world could ever keep me from spending time with you.” “Okay,” you manage to choke out, your voice barely above a whisper as you hastily wipe away a tear with trembling fingers. “I’m sorry for crying, I–I don’t mean to.” “Hey, you don’t need to apologize for that,” Tommy says softly, closing the distance between you two. His hands find their place on your shoulders, offering a gentle squeeze of reassurance. “Darlin’, look at me.” You lift your gaze to meet his, your eyes brimming with fresh tears. “I mean it,” he says with a comforting smile, looking intently into your eyes and cupping your face with his hands. “I promise I’m not going to leave you. I will always be here for you.” You study his face and tell the nagging voice in your mind to shut the fuck up. This is Tommy. He deserves love, he deserves happiness, he deserves someone who can give him everything he wants. And that’s not you. You give him a kiss on the cheek and a sincere smile. “I’m really happy for you, Tommy.”

You did continue spending time together—Tommy kept his word and didn’t abandon you—but as more and more time passed, you would see him less and less as his relationship with Maria deepened.

You expected that to happen, it didn’t hurt any less though.

One year ago, he told you he was going to propose to her, and you spent all night brainstorming ideas on how he could do it. After she’d said yes, they both let you know one day over dinner that they were going to elope, just the two of them, and you were the only person they’d tell beforehand.

A few weeks ago, Tommy beamed with pride as he shared that they were trying for a baby, the twinkle in his eyes warming your heart. Despite the joyous news, you couldn’t resist teasing him for planting that image in your mind.

After you’d shared your stories, and your pineapple and pepperoni pizzas, he very casually asked you if you were seeing anyone, and you said, “No.”

“You’re a horrible liar, darlin’.” “I’m not lying. I don’t like anyone except you.” “Stroking my ego’s not gonna get you off the hook, baby.” “Hmm, I’m pretty sure it’s working though.” “The longer you deny it, the more obvious it gets, you know.” “I’m not seeing anybody, Tommy.” “You really wanna play semantics with me?” “Alright, alright. I guess I’m…kinda seeing someone.” “Why just ‘kinda’? Does the guy not realize what a lucky bastard he is?” “It’s not him. It’s, uh…you know me.” “Yeah, and that’s why I know you’ve caught feelings.” “Ew, don’t say that.” “Well, it’s true. It’s written all over your pretty face.” “You suck, you know that?” “Yeah, it’s part of what makes me so charming. Does he know?” “I dunno, probably not.” “Are you gonna tell him?” “Uhh, I don’t think so.” “Why not? All this time I’ve known you and I’ve never seen you in love before. You can’t just…ignore it.” “Tommy…” “Don’t even try it with the puppy eyes, I’m immune to them.” “Liar.” “Give me one good reason why you shouldn’t tell him.” “Easy. If I never tell him, it’ll never hurt.” “That’s not how it works.” “You just couldn’t let me live happily in my delusions, hm?” “Sweetheart. I know you’re scared, and you have all the reason to, but…sometimes you gotta take a leap of faith, you know?” “I’m not sure I can.” “What does your gut say?” “My gut says he’s too good for me and that he wouldn’t like me if he knew who I really am.” “As someone who does know who you really are, I can assure you that it’s a privilege I wouldn’t miss for the world.” “I just…don’t wanna mess things up, Tommy.” “Look. Nothing lasts, but nothing is lost if you try. Everything changes and everything is alright.” “Wow, that was beautiful…you’re really starting to feel that rum and coke, huh?” “You know I’m right, baby.”

It’s funny, really.

You actually entertained the idea that Tommy might be onto something, that perhaps opening up to Joel could bring some semblance of peace, that perhaps you could be happy together. Yet here you are, back where you started, the familiar ache of loss settling in your heart, whispering that everything is far from alright.

As the sun dips below the horizon, the sky transforming into a canvas of vibrant colors, reflecting off the rippling surface of the water, you take your shoes and socks off. You sink your toes into the soft, grainy sand, relishing its comforting texture.

Closing your eyes, you take a deep breath, allowing the rhythmic sound of the waves to soothe your racing thoughts. With each exhale, you remind yourself that you’re safe, embracing the tranquility of the moment as the colors of the sunset dance across your eyelids.

You feel grounded, peaceful, almost—

“Hi, darlin’.”

“Jesus, you scared me,” you startle with a gasp, snapping back to reality as Joel’s voice unexpectedly breaks the silence.

“I’m so sorry, I thought you saw me,” he says with an apologetic smile on his lips, his big puppy eyes looking puppier than ever.

You sigh exasperatedly and take off your sunglasses. “I didn’t.”

“I’m sorry,” he begins, his words stumbling over each other, “I didn’t mean to intrude, I just...I thought I–I mean, I wanted to...”

“Joel,” you interrupt him, too exhausted—physically and emotionally—to beat around the bush. “What are you doing here?”

His brow furrows slightly and his heart plummets as he sees your bleary eyes, a pang of concern settling heavily in his stomach. “I wanted to see you, darlin’,” he confesses softly.

Your gaze sharpens with curiosity and suspicion as you ask, “But how did you know I was gonna be here? And can you please sit down? You’re making me nervous.”

Joel hesitates for a moment, then sits down beside you, his movements cautious as if afraid to spook you. With a nervous glance in your direction, he clears his throat, his voice low and hesitant.

“I, uh,” he begins, his words faltering slightly, “I went to your place after work to see if you’d maybe talk to me in person. But you weren’t there. And then I went to your office to see if you were working late, but I saw Kristen and she said it was your day off. You could have been anywhere at that point, so I went to Tommy’s and…told him.”

His eyes flit between yours, anxiously searching for your reaction.

You blink slowly, processing Joel’s words with a sense of resignation rather than shock. A heavy sigh escapes your lips as you realize that, at this point, nothing surprises you anymore. With a tired nod, you acknowledge Joel’s actions, feeling too drained to muster any significant reaction.

“How’d he take it?” you ask quietly.

Joel exhales deeply, a wry smile on his lips. “He isn’t too happy with me right now, but I think he’ll get over it.”

“Hm.”

“Darlin’, I’m sorry,” he says, his voice wavering with emotion. “I know you probably don’t want to see me right now, but after last night, I just…I couldn’t bare the thought of you not knowing how much you mean to me.”

As Joel speaks, you keep your gaze averted, unable to meet his eyes, your focus fixed on the sand beneath your feet. You hear every word he says, each one echoing in the silence between you, your heart pounding in your chest. Despite your reluctance to face him, Joel’s unwavering gaze remains fixed on you, his eyes silently pleading for understanding.

In the midst of the tense silence, a sudden clarity washes over you, and your heart speaks before your mind can catch up. Just as Joel opens his mouth to apologize again and explain further, you interject with your own question, the words tumbling out softly into the stillness.

“Do you ever feel like there’s something missing...like a piece of your heart is somewhere else? And no matter what you do, you’re always gonna be incomplete?”

You meet Joel’s gaze, your eyes searching his, peering into his soul with a vulnerability that lays bare your deepest feelings.

“I don’t feel like that when I’m with you,” you whisper.

Joel’s brows furrow in a mixture of surprise and tenderness as your words sink in. His lips part slightly, his expression softening with understanding as he processes the weight of your confession.

“Would you, um,” you clear your throat, “would you hold my hand and just sit with me for a bit?”

Joel’s eyes beam with adoration as he gently envelops your hand that’s clutching your shirt, delicately prying it away and intertwining his fingers with yours. With a soft, reassuring smile, he places your entwined hands on his thigh, the warmth of his touch seeping into your skin.

As you both gaze out at the vast expanse of the water, the waves lapping against the shore in a mesmerizing dance, you feel a sense of peace settle over you like a warm blanket.

You still carry the weight of unresolved issues and uncertainties in your heart, acknowledging that they loom on the horizon, demanding attention. But for now, they can wait.

Your hand in Joel’s feels right, and in this shared moment right here, that’s enough.

Thank you for reading! 🤍

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redzie02 · 16 days

Text

Jongho is jealous and Wooyoung is the cause because of course he is

drabble written past midnight

warnings: jealousy/ insecurity/ jongho having one sided beef with wooyoung/ jongho being an irritated bear masterlist

Jongho knew he shouldn’t be feeling this way- he had no reason to. He knows you love him and care about him, you tell him so every day. Never once has he felt unloved by you. But today…he was feeling insecure. And being so insecure made him feel guilty for the tiny part of him that was doubting your affection for him.

You see, today, the both of you had spent the day with Wooyoung. It really wasn’t any different than any other weekend. But for some reason, Jongho couldn’t help but hyper focus on the way you threw your head back and cackled when Wooyoung would make a joke. Or when Wooyoung would steal a bite of your food and you didn’t even seem to mind or second glance.

Now there wasn’t exactly anything strange about this- Wooyoung was your best friend after all. Jongho just couldn’t help but compare himself to Wooyoung.

Of course you didn’t know Jongho was feeling any of this yet, he hides his emotions well. But as you walked towards the cafe hand in hand, you couldn’t help but glance at him, noticing he’d been a bit quiet for the past few minutes. You squeezed his hand and he turned his head to meet your eyes. You smiled at him, hoping he would be able to read the question behind your eyes. Are you okay? He returned the smile, to which you lifted your interlocked fingers to place a kiss on the back of his hand.

After entering the cafe and ordering iced coffees- and a chocolate croissant you’d been craving all day- you walked to a table with drinks in hand. Usually Jongho liked to sit across from you, but today he’d quickly taken the spot next to you before Wooyoung even had the chance to.

You quickly fell into a conversation and Wooyoung showed you and Jongho pictures he had taken the past week.

“Hey, fix your face! Why do you look so miserable?”

“Wha-“ You lifted your gaze from Wooyoung’s phone, ready to defend yourself, only to find Wooyoung pointing his finger at Jongho. Brows raised in confusion, you turned to look at him.

“What are you talking about? My face is fine.” Jongho rolled his eyes while sipping his coffee.

Wooyoung gave you a look and teased Jongho further. “Where are your manners? I’m gonna tell Hongjoong you’re being a brat.” You watched them in amusement.

“Oh yeah? And what the hell is he gonna do about it?”

“Sell you, probably.”

You attempted to laugh, but choked on your coffee instead. Jongho patted your back as you coughed into your napkin. “You guys are idiots,” you croaked.

Before leaving the cafe, Wooyoung excused himself to the bathroom. You waited for him outside and took advantage of this moment. You grabbed Jongho’s hand and pulled him closer to your body.

“Are you okay, Jongho? You haven’t really said much.” There was a look behind his eye that you'd never seen before, but it was gone as soon as you noticed it.

Jongho put on his best face, not wanting you to worry any more about him. "Hm? Oh- yeah I'm fine, I guess I'm just a bit tired." Jongho felt his hands clam up as he watched you wordlessly examine his face.

You took a deep breath and held his face. "Are you sure? Your knee isn't sore again or anything? If it is, we can go home and I can ice it for you and I'll make tea an-"

"No baby, I'm not in pain, I swear. I was just in a weird mood, I guess...sorry." His hands were now over yours.

You opened your mouth to reply only to be interrupted again. "You're always weird, man."

Wooyoung. Jongho tried not to hit Wooyoung, but failed, landing a slap on his shoulder. "If your face wasn't so important, I'd punch you instead."

Wooyoung pulled him into a tight embrace, smacking a kiss on his cheek. "Wrong! I'm your favorite." Jongho struggled to get away, but Wooyoung only held him tighter. He loved tormenting him.

"Hey, get off my boyfriend." You pouted, reaching out. Wooyoung caught your hand and pulled you in, trapping you as well and planting a kiss on your cheek. You groaned and pinched his sides, making him yelp.

"That hurt!"

Both you and Jongho replied at the same time, "Good."

Back home, Jongho sat on the couch while you prepared tea in the kitchen. Soft music played and you hummed to it as you pulled out mugs from the cabinet.

You stirred the tea and carefully made your way to where Jongho sat. "Careful, it's hot."

"Mm, thank you." He took a sip and set his mug on the coffee table to cool down.

You sat down and let out a sigh of relief. The apartment was quiet and peaceful, the yellow glow from the street lights subtly peeked through the blinds. You still had this one thing on your mind though.

"So, what did you mean earlier when you said you were in a weird mood?"

"Oh-uh nothing- I-why do you ask?"

"I don't know...you just didn't really seem too excited today. You barely talked either. You can talk to me about how you're feeling, you know."

"I know, I know. I just-"

DING

The sound of your phone going off startled you both. Jongho rolled his eyes when you read Wooyoung's name out loud. He let out a frustrated sigh, which you heard.

"What? Is it Wooyoung? Was it something he said?"

Jongho huffed and tossed his body back into the couch, crossing his arms, eyes facing the ceiling. He knew he was being dramatic but he didn't care. He mumbled to himself, hoping you wouldn't hear. "Even when he's not here, he gets your attention. God, he's so annoying."

You blinked at him. Your mug now placed next to his. Things were finally clicking into place and you heart panged for not noticing sooner. You slid your hand down his arm. "Jongho..." He didn't budge. He let you pull his arm away so you could snuggle into his side. His arm fell over your body. "Baby..." He lifted his head to find your eyes fixated on his. "I don't think I've ever seen you jealous in my life."

"I'm not jealous."

"Yeah? Then what are you feeling, hm?" Your voice was soft as you spoke to him. He groaned and squeezed his eyes shut, embarrassed about the way he felt and the way he acted as a result of that. You leaned up and kissed his eyelids. "Jongho, you know you're the person I love most, right? And maybe this is toxic, but I'd burn the world if you told me to."

He chuckled and finally opened his eyes, "Please don't, we know you can't stand heat."

You bit back a smile. "I hate that I made you feel this way, bear. Can you please tell me what line I crossed that made you uncomfortable?"

He sighed and sat up, tightening his arm around you. "Honestly, there wasn't anything that you or Wooyoung did....I just- I don't know. I guess today was one of those days where I overthought everything...I'm sorry."

"You don't have to apologize, I get what you mean. Is there anything I can do to make you feel better, bear?"

Jongho thought for a moment, but eventually sunk further into the couch, bringing you with him. "No, just be here and-" DING "-and please mute Wooyoung."

You stifled your laugh into his chest. "Didn’t you say you wanted me to be friends with your friends?"

"I take that back."

#jongho x reader #ateez x reader #ateez x y/n #angst #jongho x you #ateez fanfic #jongho x y/n #choi jongho x reader #Choi Jongho #wooyoung fanfic #redzie02

320 notes · View notes

andvys · 9 months

Text

I knew you'd linger like a tattoo kiss | part 10

Warnings: slight angst, mentions of Billy groping reader, Billy saying gross things about reader (as always), mentions of weed and alcohol, Steve’s pov!

Pairings: Steve Harrington x fem!cheerleader!reader , Steve Harrington x Nancy Wheeler

Summary: Steve learns how to move on from the past and give the love he wanted a second try.

Word count: 5.1k

A/N: @mysticmunson thank you for helping me with ideas and being a huge inspiration as always, I love u!! 🫶🏻

series masterlist

Winter break is almost over and 1984 has passed in a blur. So much has happened, things that Steve didn’t think would happen. Had someone told him that he would start a new year without you, a year back, he would call them crazy. You had always been there, walking into every year with him.

This time you are not here. You weren’t the one to kiss him at midnight. You aren’t the one he will go home with. He can’t help but wonder if you kissed him at midnight. If you think about him the way he thinks about you, right now.

He shouldn’t be. He should be thinking about her. Nancy who is willing to stay with him even after he confessed to her that he still loves you. The day after you left him standing in your driveway, he told her everything. He told her about the kiss that almost happened if you hadn’t pushed him away. He told her about the fight you two have had. He told her about the party. He came clean about everything. He promised himself that he wouldn’t lie or keep any secrets anymore. He wants to be better.

She didn’t get angry at him like he thought she would. She seemed to understand it but she was hurt and she was ready to end things. He was too.

He didn’t see a point in keeping the relationship going. Why should he? You are the one for him, you are the one he wants, you are the one he loves.

They had talked about breaking up but he hated the thought of being alone, he hated the feeling of being unneeded and unloved. He thought about your words – She is the one for you. You should be with her. I want you to be happy, even if it’s not with me.

You had always been the selfless one, the one who would sacrifice her feelings to save someone else's. You saw something in him with Nancy, something that you didn’t see in him when he was still with you and he couldn’t help but think that maybe you were right.

Maybe she is the one for him, after all.

Maybe he just really has to let you go so he can let her in. Maybe he can be good for her, the way he could never be good for you. Maybe he can be a better boyfriend for her. Maybe he can change. Maybe he can learn. Maybe he can learn how to stop loving you. Maybe he can be happy with her. Maybe he can make her happy. Maybe he can get you back someday. Maybe.

They didn’t break up. He didn’t leave and she didn’t leave him but they settled on a break.

On Christmas night, he went on a walk and passed by your house. He saw you with him and the sight of you standing under the falling snow, smiling up at him as though he is the only good thing in this world made him feel sick. He didn’t stick around long enough to see that you had never kissed him, that you simply went back to throwing snowballs at each other.

He went back to Nancy the next day and asked for a second chance, a fresh start. He didn’t question why she hesitated, he didn’t question the guilty look in her eyes. She said yes and that’s all it mattered.

She is all that matters now.

Steve might never let you go but he is willing to try.

You don’t want him anymore and the look in your eyes showed him that you won’t ever give him a second chance again. It’s over.

You are moving on.

And so should he.

And he tries, he really tries. But when school starts and he sees you again, he can’t ignore the pain in his chest when you walk past him like you are nothing but strangers.

When he left you, you pretended that he didn’t exist. You didn’t acknowledge his presence, you always acted like he wasn’t there, like he was a ghost.

But now, after you talked things out and you were the one to leave, this time, things are different. You don’t pretend that he doesn’t exist, you do acknowledge his presence now and you don’t act like he isn’t there. You see him and you don’t pretend to not see him when you walk past him. Your eyes lock when you see each other in the hallway or in the parking lot but the look in your eyes that he was used to, is long gone. There is nothing in your eyes when you look at him. There is no love, no happiness, no excitement, no warmth, no longing. All these things are long gone. The way you look at him now, is the way you look at a stranger you pass by. He has become a stranger to you and that hurts so much more than being ignored by you.

You don’t see him as your friend anymore, you don’t see him as your past lover anymore, you don’t see him as anything good in your life.

Every time he thinks that it can’t hit him any harder, it hits him even harder. The realization that he is nothing but a stranger to you now, broke his heart all over again and took everything in him not to break down in the school's hallway.

A month had passed since the night you had become strangers and while you seem to have a great time, Steve is trying his hardest to keep himself together, to be a good boyfriend for her.

Billy’s laughter pulls him out of his thoughts, he narrows his eyes at the blond, who pushes Tommy back so he can look at himself in the mirror.

The smell of the locker room makes Steve feel sick and he can’t wait to get out. A cloud of cologne mixed with sweat and the fog from the showers hangs over the room. He looks into the mirror as he dries his hair with the towel. Drops of water dribble down his chest. Steve looks at Eddie through the mirror. He is surprised to see him here. Usually, he skips gym class. His friend Jeff is standing next to him as he puts his shirt on, laughing at something Eddie had whispered to him.

Eddie is still shirtless, his jeans hang low on his hips, the chain jingles as he fastens his belt. Steve can’t help but compare himself to Eddie. His hair is darker and longer and so are his eyes. He has tattoos, on his arms and on his chest – something that he doesn’t have. He wears rings and chains, clothes that Steve would never wear.

Is Eddie your type? Is he the kind of guy you go for now?

“Hey Munson!”

Steve glances at Tommy, who is already wearing a smirk on his face as he looks the metalhead up and down.

Eddie turns around to face the jock.

“I never seen you in P.E., are you trying to impress someone?”

“Yeah, your mom.” Eddie smirks and turns back around to put his shirt on.

Billy snorts, licking his lips, he glances at Steve, “nah, he’s trying to impress someone else.”

Tommy notices the smirk on Billy’s face. A laugh falls from his lips, “aw, is the freak trying to impress the queen?”

Jeff rolls his eyes and looks down as he puts his shoes on. He already knows what’s coming next.

“I don’t think you can impress her with your shitty car and your dirty trailer, Munson.”

Jeff notices the way Eddie clenches jaw, the way his eyes fill with anger.

Steve narrows his eyes at Billy and Tommy.

“Yeah. I mean going from a rich kid to some lowlife trailer trash–”

“Shut the hell up, Tommy,” Steve snaps at his old friend. “Leave him alone.”

Everyone in the locker room, including Eddie, turns to look at Steve in shock. Never has Steve ever stood up for anyone, let alone someone like Eddie.

Steve is sick of the cruel words he hears daily, they may not be directed at him but he still can’t stand them. He doesn’t like him but Eddie doesn’t deserve this. He helped him and made sure he got home safe when he got drunk at the Hideout, he owes this to him.

He glares at his old friend and steps towards him.

“Put your clothes on and get the fuck out of here, man. I’m sick of you assholes.”

Tommy laughs in surprise.

“Wheeler is turning you into a pussy, Steve.” Billy says as he looks at him over Tommy’s shoulder.

Steve closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, he clenches his jaw.

Tommy chuckles to himself and shakes his head, “he was always a pussy.”

Eddie looks at Steve, waiting for him to react. To his surprise, he turns around and continues to put on his clothes.

“Says a guy who runs after balls and his cheating girlfriend.”

Jeff snaps his head up to look at his friend, he holds his fist up to his mouth as he tries to keep himself from laughing.

Steve looks at Eddie in surprise and narrows his eyes at Tommy, whose face gets redder each passing second. His breathing picks up and he clenches his fists.

“What did you just say?” Tommy mumbles as he walks towards Eddie, who smirks at him.

It’s no secret that Carol is cheating on Tommy, she’s been caught with a few too many basketball players behind the bleachers and even tried to make a move on Billy, in front of Tommy.

“You heard me,” Eddie says, smirking. He isn’t afraid of Tommy or any of the other guys that try to give him a hard time. He isn’t immune to the cruel words or the bullying but he is good at hitting them back with harsh words, not caring that he might get hit with something more than a few words. Eddie put on armor and a front that keeps people like Tommy away from him, they always make sure to keep their distance – too afraid of the freak who worships the devil.

Billy looks at Eddie, he raises his brows.

“You’re getting a little bit too comfortable back there, freak.”

“Just speaking the truth,” Eddie shrugs, snorting at Tommy who tries to intimidate him with a glare. He doesn’t step close enough to be able to even throw a punch, he keeps a safe distance, as always.

“Careful there, Hagans. Or you might get sacrificed to the devil tonight.” Billy smirks.

Tommy finally backs away, shaking his head.

Steve sighs to himself, he grabs his backpack and walks towards the door. He wonders how he could ever be friends with someone like Tommy.

Why didn’t he listen to you when you told him that he was no real friend?

Why didn’t he listen to you when you told him how awful he was?

Why didn’t he care when you told him how much you hated how he acted when he was around Tommy and Carol?

How couldn’t he see how awful they were when he was still with you?

Would things be different if he dropped them earlier on?

Would things be different if he dated her first?

Steve steps out into the hallway. It’s quiet and no one is around after the last period, no one except for you.

His breath gets caught in his throat.

You are here, leaning against the wall, looking down at the book in your hand. You are wearing your cheer uniform, you let your hair loose, the green scrunchie is around your wrist. The dark denim jacket is thrown over your shoulders.

You haven’t seen him yet, you are too absorbed in the book you are reading.

Another deja vu.

This moment takes him back to all the times you waited for him after cheer practice. He would walk out of the locker room to find you waiting for him, sitting on the floor, reading a book or drawing in your notebook.

The door shuts behind him and you look up, finally noticing him.

He waits for something, he doesn’t know what but he waits to see that look in your eyes.

The longing, the sadness, the love.

He doesn’t.

There’s nothing in your eyes, nothing except for disappointment because he is not the one you have been waiting for. You look over his shoulder before your eyes meet his again, you give him a tight lipped smile, the way you would give to a stranger. It hurts.

“Hi,” he mumbles with a slight, sad smile on his face.

“Hey,” you mumble before you look back down at the book in your hand.

The door opens behind him and he steps to the side. Eddie and Jeff walk out, glancing at him as they step into the hallway.

“Y/n, you didn’t have to wait for me,” Jeff jokes, putting his hand over his heart.

You giggle.

Eddie nods at Steve before he turns away to look at you.

Steve watches the way you greet Eddie, the way your eyes light up and a huge smile takes over your face when you look at him. He watches the way you wrap your arms around him.

“I can’t believe you didn’t skip,” you grin and squeeze his shoulder.

Eddie rolls his eyes but he smiles at you, “I’m trying to graduate.”

You put the book in your backpack and pick it up, throwing it over your shoulders. You hook your arm around Eddie’s and grin at him, “mhmm, you’re doing good.”

You are helping him graduate, the way you wanted to help him. Steve looks at you but you don’t spare him a second glance. Your attention is elsewhere.

He watches you leave. He watches the way Eddie throws his arm around your shoulder and pulls you into him, ruffling your hair playfully.

Steve looks down, he swallows the lump in his throat and turns around to leave.

February, 14th 1985

Steve looks down at the note in his hand, a smile is tugging at his lips. His heart skips a beat when he looks at the red flowers in his other hand. For the first time in a while, he is excited.

It’s Valentine’s day.

He is taking Nancy out on a date. He had planned it all weeks ago. First, he will take her out to dinner at Enzo’s and then he will take her home where he had prepared a surprise for her.

He looks at the note she had left in his jacket this morning. He puts it back in his pocket and walks towards the cash register, greeting the old man behind it. He places the flowers and the chocolate on the counter and reaches for his wallet.

A love song is playing on the radio, the store is decorated with pink paper hearts.

“Going on a date?” The old man asks, smiling at Steve.

“Yeah, I’m taking my girlfriend out to dinner.”

The doors slide open and as he hears the sound of your voice, his smile instantly falls. He can’t help but look.

You’re not alone, of course you are with him and you look so beautiful but different. You are wearing a skirt, one that is certainly too short for this weather, the fishnet tights do nothing to protect your skin from the cold. You are wearing platform boots and a short leather coat – dark colors, dark nails, red lips, curls and bangs. You are starting to look like the female version of him.

He wonders if your personality had changed as much as your appearance has.

“This is gonna be the best night ever.” Steve hears Eddie say.

“I know it will be,” you giggle, “I still got the credit card my dad gave me, we can book a hotel room afterwards.”

Eddie wiggles his eyebrows at you, playfully.

You disappear in the snack aisle, your voices fade away and so does the excited look on Steve’s face.

“That’ll be $9.80.”

It’s very clear to him that you are on a date. With Eddie. And that’s okay, right? It’s okay that you are on a date with someone else. It’s okay that you make yourself look pretty for someone else. It’s okay that you have moved on.

He should be happy for you, right?

He should be happy to know that you are not in pain anymore.

But then why does it hurt so bad?

He shakes his head and looks back at the cashier, he places a ten dollar bill on the counter, he takes the flowers and the chocolate and leaves, not wanting to risk running into you.

Living in a small town, means running into the same people, all the time. People you don’t want to see, people you want to avoid, people you don’t like, people you wish you wouldn’t think about anymore.

Steve had a hard time getting over you, it took him weeks to accept the fact that you and him, will never be a thing again – platonic or romantic. You are a part of his past, a part that he can never get back. So he let you go or he convinced himself that he did.

While things may not be ideal, he feels content with the way his life is now. He is happy. He has a girlfriend, a group of rowdy kids that had become a huge part of his life, he will graduate soon and he is in love.

He let go of the past that he kept pining after.

It’s still weird to see you and not be with you but it’s okay now. He can walk past you and not feel his heart breaking when you don’t acknowledge him anymore. He can hear your voice and not long to hear you talk to him. He can look at you and not feel himself yearn for you.

He prefers not to see you, which has become one of his biggest challenges in the past few months. Everywhere he goes, he sees you, and every single time, you are with Eddie. Well, maybe not every single time. Sometimes you are with Heather and Chrissy or your new friend, Robin Buckley. Steve knows her from Mrs. Click’s class, she is nice but he doesn’t know much about her, except that she is in the school band and your newest friend.

You look happier than ever. Your eyes are shining with happiness every time he sees you, your skin is glowing and you seem to have a constant smile on your face, especially when you are with Eddie.

It’s been three months ever since you had gone separate ways and you changed, a lot. Your hair is longer now, your clothes are different, your music taste has changed, you are learning how to play guitar, you write songs with Eddie and you work at the record store three times a week after school – he only knows that because Max Mayfield told him, who apparently is your number one fan now. You are her english tutor and ‘the much cooler older friend’. She loves to brag about you to the boys and to him. Steve likes her and she somehow became a little sister figure in his life but he hates the smug look on her face whenever she tells him stories about you.

He doesn’t want to think about you, he doesn’t want to talk about you, he doesn’t want to see you.

But it’s almost impossible to leave the house and not run into you. Whether it’s the school’s hallway, the classroom, the grocery store, the movies, some house party, the cafe downtown – he always runs into you. Tonight, it’s the diner.

He didn’t even see you at first when he walked in. He was in a good mood all night, after a long day of studying with Nancy, he went to Benny’s Burgers to get some takeout for them. He placed his order and waited by the counter when he heard your laughter over the 70s music from the jukebox.

Now he can’t take his eyes off of you. You are sitting in a booth with Eddie, his arm is behind you, his fingertips linger on your shoulder. You are both laughing. Your hair is a little messy, just like his.

You are giggling, a lot.

You must be drunk, Steve thinks. Or maybe, you are just this happy around him.

Eddie dips the fries into the milkshake and feeds them to you which makes both of you laugh when the milkshake dripples down your chin. Steve forces himself to look away when Eddie catches it with his thumb, though he can’t keep his eyes away for too long.

Steve wonders what the two of you are. With the way you are around each other all the time, you must be a couple by now. It looks like you are one. Steve doesn’t even notice that he is clenching his jaw and his fists when he watches how Eddie cups your cheeks and pulls you closer to kiss your cheek loudly, in the most obnoxious way. Steve can’t help but roll his eyes.

He drums his fingers against the counter and narrows his eyes at you. You giggle at Eddie and grab his face, pulling him closer to you and try to kiss his cheek the way he kissed yours but your movements are sloppy and you end up kissing the corner of his mouth instead which for some reason, makes you both laugh harder. Now he is certain that you are both drunk or high or both.

“Here’s your order, kid.”

Steve tears his eyes away from you and Eddie. He reaches for his wallet and turns to look at the waitress, placing the bills on the table and giving her tight lipped smile before he grabs the bag and turns around to leave without looking at you again.

He doesn’t see or feel your eyes on him.

It’s the last game of the season and Steve’s last game, altogether. He can’t believe that this will be all over soon. High school, basketball practice, games, lunch breaks with his girlfriend, studying.

He feels anxious about his future. He decided to take the year off after he will graduate. And hopefully, he will go to college with Nancy, next fall. Deep down he knows it won’t happen, he can’t see himself going to college, he barely made it through senior year.

He doesn’t know what will happen to him and his relationship with her when she goes off to college next year.

He tries not to think about it too much. He tries to enjoy his remaining days at school and his last game. He bounces on his feet as he watches the cheerleaders perform. You are in the front, as always.

“One has to be a real fucking idiot to dump someone with that ass.”

An instant rush of anger rippels through him. Billy’s voice will never not make his blood boil.

Billy smirks as he watches you bend down, his eyes flicker over to Eddie who surprisingly came to the game, probably just to watch you dance in your tiny cheerleader uniform.

“She wouldn’t even look at the freak after I’d fuck her dumb.”

“Shut up, Hargrove.” Steve mumbles under his breath.

Billy chuckles, he steps up beside him, narrowing his eyes at Steve.

“Her taste has changed a lot,” he says, smirking. “Did you know that she listens to heavy metal now?”

Steve scrunches his face up. He hates heavy metal.

“She supports Munson’s shitty band and goes to concerts with him. Do you think they fuck in his shitty van?”

Steve opens his mouth but Billy cuts him off again.

“I bet they do. I bet she’s a little freak, that’s why she’s with him now.”

Steve clenches his jaw, his eyes find Eddie who stands in the crowd, grinning at you.

“That’s why she never looked happy with you, you didn’t fuck her good enough. The freak seems to do it better.”

Maybe he is right. Steve never took care of you the way you always took care of him. You always made sure that he felt good, he never did the same for you and he feels ashamed about it.

“I could still fuck her better though.”

“Shut the fuck up, man. She is not interested in you, she never was,” Steve snaps at him, ignoring the prying eyes of the other guys from the basketball team.

Steve had realized that you were never interested in him when it was far too late to apologize for accusing you of things you never did. You didn’t care about Billy or any other guy but he didn’t trust you back then even though you never gave him a reason not to. He always waited for you to give him one though, he waited for you to hurt him, he waited for you to cheat on him, he waited for you to leave him for someone else, he waited for you to fail. But you never did.

You loved him, only him. You wanted him. You were good and loyal, you were an amazing girlfriend and you never deserved the things he did to you.

He is angry at himself for how he treated you. He hates himself for how much he hurt you. He hates how he didn’t protect you from Billy, he hates how angry he got after he had touched you after you had pushed him off once, already.

“Are you sure about that?” Billy smirks, “then why did she let me fuc–”

Steve grabs him by the collars of his shirt, he slams him against the wall. Finally, he has had enough of him.

“She never let you do anything, you piece of shit,” Steve says, angrily. “You touched her without her permission, you made shit up about her. We both know that she would never touch you.”

Billy laughs at his words but Steve can see the anger flashing in his eyes.

“But she did, she’s a little sl–”

Before Billy can even react, Steve throws a punch, slamming his fist into his jaw.

“Dude!” Tommy yells.

Some of the guys around him gasp, the others laugh.

Billy doesn’t take long to recover, he ducks when Steve tries to throw another punch and hits him in the stomach before he throws a punch at his face. Steve stumbles back and almost falls to the ground if it wasn’t for Chase steadying him.

“Guys, this is not the right moment!” Jason yells, holding his hands up as he tries to get in between them, “we’re supposed to go out there and fight the other team, not each oth–”

“Shut the fuck up, Carver!” Billy yells, “I’m sick of your motivation speeches.”

Jason clenches his jaw and steps back.

Steve wipes the blood from under his nose, he breathes heavily as he stares Billy down. The guys look between them as they slowly inch towards each other, everyone tenses up, looking around to see if anyone is willing to get in between them.

“You really wanna do this, asshole?” Billy asks, licking his lips.

“I should’ve done that a long time ago, Hargrove.”

“Seriously?” Jason exclaims, throwing his hands up. “The game is about to start!”

Billy walks towards Steve, he is never one to back down from a fight. He had been waiting for a reason to beat the shit out of Steve but so did Steve. He should have kicked his ass a long time ago but he always directed his anger at you, instead of the guy that tried to come in between you and him – the guy who made you uncomfortable.

Steve feels the need to make things right, he knows that this won’t fix anything. It won’t take back all his actions but he still wants to hurt him.

The tension is high and both Steve and Billy are glaring at each other. The guys look between them, anxiously. The music inside the gym is still playing, the cheerleaders are still dancing, unaware to the little fight that broke out behind the doors.

Before any of them can throw any more punches, the coach walks in, taking away the chance for a fight to break out again.

Billy glares at Steve, he wipes his chin and turns away from him but the look in his eyes tells him that they aren’t done yet.

Steve scoffs, he is not done with him either. He tears his eyes away from him. He clenches his jaw. He feels so angry. He notices the way the others sigh in relief, the way they instantly relax when Steve and Billy back away from each other.

When it’s time to walk out into the gym, Steve is at the very front. He forces a smile onto his face and waves at the people on the bleachers, his eyes lock with Nancy’s, they smile at each other. She doesn’t notice how tense he is, she doesn’t even notice the remains of blood under his nose or how red his knuckles are, how angry he still looks but you notice it.

He looks at you, your eyes lock and for the first time in a while, there is no emptiness in your eyes when you look at him. You continue to clap your hands, still gripping the pompons tightly. The smile on your face begins to fade the longer you look at him. He sees the way you eye him up and down, the way you look at his knuckles and his nose that is still bleeding. He sees the way your eyes move over to Billy before you look back at him. Your brows furrow, your eyes flash with confusion and concern. It doesn’t take you long to figure out what happened.

He doesn’t want to look at you but he can’t seem to take his eyes off of you. For a moment, you stare at each other.

It feels like forever but the moment only last for a few seconds. Though it doesn’t go unnoticed by a few other people.

Chrissy nudges your shoulder and you finally tear your eyes away from him. He ignores the feeling in his chest, he ignores the ache when you look away and smile again. He looks at you for another long second before he turns away too and looks back at the girl he loves.

He smiles at her, he is happy that she is here.

He is happy.

He is.

next chapter

tagging friends & mutuals only!

@mysticmunson @wroteclassicaly @corrodedseraphine @corrodedcorpses @take-everything-you-can @screammunson @hellfire--cult @taintedcigs @sherrylyn628 @xxhellfiregirlxx @nemesis729

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington angst #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fic #stranger things angst

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igotanidea · 11 months

Text

Walk down memory lane : AK!Jason Todd x fem!reader

Warnings: mention of self harm and suicidal thoughts.

You can find other AK!stories on point 4 here: Jason Todd masterlist

***

She was just so tired.

Tired of fighting, of keeping up that fucking hope, of carrying the excessive weight on her shoulders.

She just couldn’t anymore .

Maybe it was time to finally accept that Jason didn’t care about her. That he would never care again. Not in the same way he used to before all this shit hit them. Before Joker, Harley, Arkham…

But she still needed, wanted, craved his love.

But how long can a girl be strong and live in a delusion?

And for the first time in a year she started crying.

What Harley could not achieve, happened because of a boy. No amount of torture and mind games and tricks she was subject to in Arkham, not once broke her. But the indifference and cold treatment from her former boyfriend, the one who she still loved got her on her knees, sobbing and shaking on the bed in her little, cold Asylum cell.

He was right. She was completely alone, no one was coming to help her, safe her from that void that finally found a way straight to her heart. Nothing more than a playtoy, unlovable, weak, pathetic, developing a heavy case of Stockholm syndrome.

Poor girl hugged herself in a foul attempt to calm down, but it was for nothing. Tears were falling freely down her cheeks, turning her into a puddle of emotions she couldn’t hold back. It was like the old wound and the feeling of being used opened and uncovered all the layers she cut off before.

Some people call it trauma, but she couldn’t care less about the terminology.

Maybe it would be better to just end her own life right now just so she wouldn’t have to suffer through another day of such lousy existence. It was Arkham, she was pretty sure she would find something to help her execute her plan.

On shaking legs she stood up from the bed, moving towards the bathroom. The mirror that Jason broke violently after their last encounter was still not fixed and the sharp pieces of glass poked on every side.

Perfect.

Gathering all the strength she had left, she reached towards the splinter and pointed it towards her wrist, assessing the “best” place to cut……

***

She woke up feeling sore and in tremendous amount of pain like never before. Both of her wrists were patched up with the clean bandages and she wasn’t even in her own sweatbox. Honestly, she couldn’t for the love of God recognise the place where she was, until the familiar, slightly muffled voice threw her off her confused state and brought back to reality.

“WHAT THE FUCK WERE YOU THINKING?!” Jason hissed with unconcealed anger and she shivered. “WHAT WERE YOU TRYING TO DO!?” in a blink of an eye he was right next to her, grabbing her chin and forcing her eyes up.

She was just completely silent, the tight grip of his fingers on her puffy, hurting cheeks causing a few more tears to flow down her eyes.

“I’m sorry…..” she whispered, slightly panicking. He was never supposed to find her, let alone to save her. And why did he? Was it only because he needed her for release in the future? “I’m sorry…..” her whole body shook violently.

“Y/N…….” her name in his mouth sounded almost sweet and the touch got far more gentle, sudden change in behaviour making her freeze. What was going on?

“I……” her mouth fell agape and it was impossible to say a word.

“Did you forget what I told you last time? You’re mine. You can’t just go and decide to hurt yourself this way. I cannot allow it.”

“Why?” she sobbed “it’s not like you care. I am just a reminder of the past, of all those lies you were fed by Batman and your family. Of someone you once were and could never be again.”

“Stop it!”

“Please, please, just let me go. Just let me finish it, please.” Her desperation and panic attack coming out in waves in the form of the aggressive tugging on the dressing, trying to reopen the stitched wounds and cuts. “I’ll do it myself. You won’t even have to lift a finger.”

“Stop it!’

“You can even watch it, I know you’ll enjoy the show. You wanted a show, didn’t you?”

“FOR FUCK’S SAKE STOP IT!” finally he managed to get a hold of her hands, pinning them down to her sides, precluding her from moving, even though she still struggled against his hold. “Is that what you think of me? That I will enjoy that?” she nodded shakily “fuck!”

“I’m sorry…..” she whimpered again. She was still here and he was now mad which could only equal to another punishment. And this time it was not going to be intimate. He could really hurt her at any time.

“Baby…..” he whispered, almost without thinking, closing his eyes “princess.”

“Wha….. what did you say?” her eyes grew wide. Did he really use those words or was it just an imagination?

Jason was completely inside his head now, memories flooding his brain like a fucking Niagara. He remembered the past. The moment, when while still being Robin, someone came after her, attacking her and almost eliminating her from the equation. He recalled the hours spend in the medical bay, watching her pale face and the heart rate monitor, praying to whatever entity was up there to bring her back to him. All those little heart attacks caused each time she took a sharp exhale. Falling asleep next to her bed, holding and caressing her cold hand, whispering pleas and promises to keep her safe in the future if she just woke up. Brushing up on how he felt when she finally opened her e/c eyes, looking at him with so much love and concern, asking if he was all right.

He remembered how she cared about him….. And how he cared about her.

“Ja…. Jace?” she swallowed the lump in her throat, taking the risk to use his nickname, ready for another anger fit, but instead she met his honest gaze, so different from the one she was used to in his Arkham Knight version.

“Don’t ever do this again.” He gasped, brushing her cheek, putting a strand of hair behind her ear “you hear me? Ever.”

“Jason?” he bottom lip trembled because of that sudden display of emotion from his part.

“Ever.” He emphasised. “I don’t want to see you in pain.”

“Ok……”

“Anyone who hurt you deserve a punishment and that applies to you hurting yourself. Is that clear?”

“Anyone, but you?” she blurt without thinking and immediately covered her mouth in fear of the words that came out her mouth.

Jason tensed a bit, his muscles flexing but he didn’t move.

“Get some rest. Need you recovered soon. Big plans for you.” He just said and with one final look into her eyes left the room, leaving her completely speechless.

…..

#jason todd x reader #arkham knight x reader #jason todd x you #jason todd x y/n #jason todd x oc #jason todd angst #jason todd smut #arkham knight #arkham knight angst #arkham knight jason todd #arkham knight x y/n #arkham knight imagine #arkhamverse

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trashmouth-richie · 10 months

Text

eddie x fem reader

(honey I’m home master list)

Summary: eddie waits for results and gets a heart to heart from Wayne. Recovery is tough road, but the sun shines.

triggers: dealing with ptsd and learning to heal.

Special thanks to @sweetsweetjellybean for helping me through this one! + all the others. Only 2 more chapters to go! 🥹

“This is it,” Eddie says, swiveling in his seat to look over at you, the rings on his finger tapping gently against the steering wheel.

Smiling softly, you look through the smoke stained windows of Eddie’s van up at the big brick house. He wasn’t kidding, Steve lived in a mansion compared to the small ranch style you had called home for the past few years.

You scrunch up your nose, “jeez Steve couldn’t afford anything bigger than this? Must be going broke.” Your humor was coming back in small spurts and Eddie grinned ear to ear.

“I know,” he agrees, throwing open his door and going around the front of the van to open yours, “.. ugly isn’t it? Poor bastard has no taste.” His smile is wide and toothy like it always was, but somehow more handsome. “This is okay right? I mean just gimme the word babe and we can stay with Wayne or somethin’.”

Placing a rogue curl away from his face you twist it around your finger. You weren’t sure if you’d ever get used to the feeling of being his, but you couldn’t wait to start a new chapter in your life.

“I’d live anywhere, as long as you’re with me,” you say sweetly.

One of his big warm hands finds your cheek, wafting the familiar smell of old spice and Marlboros to you and bringing your face up to him, “you really are the most beautiful girl, you know that right?”

Steve and Leighanne had been expecting you, checking in with Eddie to make sure you would feel at home for your stay… however long that may turn out to be. They refused to accept any money from Eddie regarding rent. “It’s no good here Munson…Leighanne and I are just happy you two are safe.”

“..and you sir,” you say, working your fingers along the cotton of his shirt, a smile pressed to your coy lips, “are so full of shit.”

His eyebrows pull together and release once you stick out your tongue in a tease. A smirk replaces his concerned expression and he pulls you up into him.

His lips enclose yours and you can’t stop the smile spreading across them.

“You ready, baby?”

For the first time in three months, you had something to smile about, to look forward to, but the weeks leading up to this were not paved in gold.

——

Eddie paced the tiles of the waiting room, nails bitten and bleeding on his left hand, threads ripped and torn in the holes in his jeans. He was a wreck.

The brief conversation with the doc while you were being prepped for surgery gave little to no relief. Few words sticking with him and running like ticker tape across a news station channel screen in his head.

“high risk”

“Possible death during childbirth”

He held your hand as long as he could before you were wheeled into the operating room, apologies falling from your lips, followed by screams of pain. Eddie was terrified but assured you everything would be okay. Even if his bravado was fake, his mask held strong on his features. Calming you instantly.

He doesn’t break until the swinging doors close and he’s standing alone in the cold hallway, the pads of his fingers pressed to his lips. A silent scream trapped in his lungs. But the salt of his tears paint his face and wash away the mask, Awww

He just got you back, and now your life possibly hung in the balance, again. He just found out he was going to be a dad, and now the baby he never got more than a week to love, was gone.

Is this what it was to love him? Everyone he ever loved left in one way or another. The punishment of loving an unlovable man meant losing your life in terms of Eddie Munson.

His mother.

His child.

It was a curse. An eye for an eye. He had killed and now he was reaping what he sowed.

What kind of sick twist of fate would allow this to happen? Would allow a pregnant woman to be beaten nearly to death? To have a child ripped from his mother as she took her final breath?

Eddie started questioning everything he had ever done to deserve such cruelty bestowed onto the ones he cherished.

What else was there to sacrifice? He’d gladly die if it meant bringing them back to him. He would take their place, cold and frigid in the ground, a soft pillow in a satin box. Six feet under.

His fingers press into his eyes until he sees stars. The grief swallowing him whole into a tangled web of desperate pleas to a higher power he wasn’t even sure he believed in and mixed humidity from sweltering heat of hell.

He wasn’t strong enough for this. And if you died during the procedure? He’d certainly crawl up and perish like the weak man he was.

His boots are heavy and squeak annoyingly all the way to the empty waiting room. The calming color scheme offers nothing but a chilled brush of fear to his neck as he fishes out a quarter from his pocket when he gets to the pay phone. Messages scratched against the paint, “welcum to h3ll” “pray for me” “for a good time call Barb”.

His fingers find home on the silver buttons, clicking the number to the plant where Wayne works, only dialed when he was in too deep.

—

The monotonous dial tone seemed to go on forever, before a gruff voice out of breath voice answered, “this is Earl.”

Eddie kept his composure through the four word sentence asking if Wayne Munson was there. A grumbled remark and a slam onto the metal counter echoed through the receiver.

Seconds turned to minutes and minutes fade to what felt like hours before the familiar calloused tongue rang through the other end. The dam Eddie was holding back broke as Wayne said his name, and through one sob after another Wayne told him to hold tight and he’d be right there.

Wayne left the plant in record speed. Grease smearsleft washed clean down his face from the tears that fell on the drive from the plant to the hospital, breaking all laws to get to there as fast as he could.

When Eddie’s eyes met Wayne’s he sobbed like a child. Clutching onto the man’s work uniform like it was the only comfort he had ever been offered.

A lifetime's worth of tears stream down the Munson’s faces. And Wayne eases Eddie into a chair in the waiting room.

“She’ll be alright, Ed.” Wayne offers, a rough comforting hand rubbing Eddie’s shoulder, “she’s a tough one.”

Eddie shakes his head, “she shouldn’t have to be,” his hands cover his face, he’d take the pain for you if he could, “if I would have told her sooner… if I didn’t freak her out when I did, m— fuck.. maybe, none of this would have happened.”

He had run a million and one scenarios over and over in his head on how this could have been changed if he could turn back the time and do things differently.

Wayne drags a rough hand down his face, smearing the grease from the machines at work and scratching the itch is his wiry unshaven face. To him, Eddie was still that same little boy, eyes bigger than the moon, and the weight of it all on his shoulders.

“Son, I know this is hard, but you gotta stop and think for a minute. Ain’t no way tellin’ if this could’ve been prevented.” He stops to clear his throat, years of cigarette smoke raw on his throat.

“Sounds like that som bitch was keepin’ her on a tight leash, just waiting’ on her to be alone.” Eddie winced at Wayne’s honesty, had Chad really been in the shadows? He keeps going, “You gotta open your eyes and realize what you do have and stop frettin’ bout woulda coulda shoulda.”

Eddie hung his head low, shoulders shaking with every sob he willed to swallow down, “I didn’t— fuck man, I didn’t even get a chance to love my own kid— and n— I promised myself I wouldn’t end up like him.”

He regrets it before he’s even done saying it. Truth was, he loved that baby the minute the nurse blurted out to a room full of friends that you were pregnant. He was heartbroken that he never got to shatter the Munson reputation and show himself and this fucking town how good he could raise a child.

Wayne nearly jumped out of his overalls with fury at Eddie’s speech, “Did you hurt that girl? Nearly kill her and your own blood? Out of some jealous whiskey infused rage?”

“No,” Eddie says, knowing he’s being scolded for saying something as dumb as what he just did.

“Your daddy was meaner than a Texas rattle snake. Fucker didn’t have a good bone in his body—mama always said he was born like that. Piss and vinegar blooded.” Wayne shakes his head at his own childhood memories of a brother who showed no remorse. “You think I’m yellow bellied enough to raise a man just like ‘im? Boy I thought you knew better than that.”

Eddie shrugs his shoulders and wipes a traitorous tear away.

“That,” Wayne says pointing to Eddie’s face, “you might have the Munson last name but son you are so much like your mama, think that som bitch ever shed a tear over someone other than ‘imself? Think again, boy.”

Eddie looks at Wayne through thick wet lashes.

“You’ll be a good daddy when the time is right. These are the cards you’re dealt with and they ain’t all pretty right now, but hell, a full house ain’t nothin but a few cards that look the same, no royalty needed.”

The hillbilly way of explaining things was Wayne’s greatest achievement, it gave Eddie a sense of calm, understanding. He was a good man. He had proved that time and time again. But hearing it and believing it— were on two different plains.

Dr. Newby found Eddie in the waiting room with Wayne, hung head down and knees bouncing. He had explained that everything went as well as it could have. You were stable.

Wayne asked the questions that Eddie couldn’t pluck the letters to form the words to generate the sentences to ask. He clung to the fact that you were in stable condition.

Fading in and out to catch bits of the doctor’s answers.

“The last ultrasounds she had done when she arrived here, showed a very irregular and faint heartbeat….body was in shock and the stress and trauma put her into early labor…”

“…there was never a guarantee that the baby would have even survived to the end of this week.”

The only question Eddie could muster, “when can I see her?”

—

The effects of the anesthesia wore off, dwindling like dandelion heads in the breeze in the summer. Blown away slow and easy.

You wished you could float on one of them, gentle and sweet fluttering around and not having a care in the world. Blown by a sharp gust of wind and landing daintily somewhere new, spreading the seeds of your fortune to a new land.

But the cold press of sheets and steel sides of the hospital bed bring you back to reality.

Not wanting to open your eyes and face the true cusp of the hell you were stuck in. Not wanting to see those same dark eyes swell with tears. Eddie’s heart ache seeped into your own, pulling the threads of the sewn stitches around it with each wet tear that fell down his face.

Would you ever bring him something other than turmoil? Could he find peace with you? The devil himself laughed at your pleads and you didn’t blame him.

You needed only a few more seconds, minutes, to yourself. Collecting your thoughts and trying to be strong for him.

He had promised to never stop loving you— would he still? Would he be able to look at you the same? Love you the same?

The comfort of your closed eyelids proved better than facing what lay ahead. But you couldn’t hide from him forever.

The void was suffocating, emptiness choking you and leaving you a shell of yourself, but it all faded away when you opened your eyes, and saw him.

—

Upon waking you both sobbed into one another, mourning the loss of the little family you both so desperately craved to belong too.

“I’m sorry Eddie, I’m so so sorry.” you had cried into his shirt.

Eddie held you to his chest, his arms holding you tight and his chin rested on the top of your head. “None of that, angel girl, you hear me?” He prodded, shattering the doubt and guilt from your mind, “we have each other, always.”

Days after, your body still felt hollow, empty and sunken. And the stress you had endured hung like a gown on a poorly constructed hanger around you. A dark cloud.

The doubt and demon truths sauntered their way back into your mind. Lies of telling you Eddie didn’t love you, didn’t care about you, could never be with someone responsible for what happened to his child or himself.

That was when the nightmares started.

—

“She seems good today,” Nancy chirps, her stylish heels click against the sidewalk outside of Roane County hospital, Jonathan keeping up with her quickened pace, holding his fingers tight between hers, thankful for every single day that she chose him, no matter his faults.

Eddie walked them out to their car, the sunny April morning brought birds and the promise of spring, “she’s always happy to see familiar faces, you’re like a sister to her.”

Nancy smiles with tears in her pale blue eyes, “she’s like a sister to me too, Eddie.”

“So you guys are staying with Steve and his girlfriend?” Jonathan asks, wrapping his arms behind Nancy and resting his chin on her shoulder.

Eddie sighs and leans a denim hip onto Nancy’s car, his arms crossed over his chest, a weighty sigh falls from his lips, “yeah, for a bit at least. I don’t want her to go back into that house.”

“Oh absolutely not,” Nancy agrees, nodding along, her curls bouncing, voice small, “I didn’t want to mention this to Tooty, but my mom and dad, and Jonathan’s mom and Hopper volunteered to clean it. Rip out the carpets, replace what’s broken—whatever needs to be done.”

Eddie is stunned at the support, but feels guilty all the same, “they don’t have to do that, I— once she’s clear to go home I’m gonna go over there and clean it all up myself.”

His heart ached and burned with the thought of being handed more charity.

“Dude, Jonathan started, “you’re our friends, we’re here to help, so let us.”

An exasperated breath leaves Eddie’s mouth, vibrating his lips on the way out, “alright.”

He’s overcome with emotion at the sentiment, and almost bites his lip in half to stop the flood of overwhelming tears from bursting.

“Now the only thing to figure out is… would you both move back in there?” Nancy asks timidly, her features soft and concerning, skirting on frazzled nerves, “Steve said something about finding someone to rent it out, that way she could have some sort of income..”

“I knew a guy from the paper who needed a place to live, but when I mentioned the house…he uh— well he quickly found something else,” Jonathan muttered partly into Nancy’s collar, “ arms tightening around her slender waist.

No doubt finding someone to rent the house would be difficult. The entire town was still reeling with what happened, somehow the only thing that anyone seemed to care about was Chad’s death. Never mind his crimes.

Eddie’s head spins, a headache brewing between his brow, and he closes his eyes to push it away.

“No rush!” Nancy says, her hand laying gently on Eddie’s arm, “we will all get it figured it out, okay?” The blue of her eyes twinkling with a pure presence of honesty, and hope. “Just focus on our girl in there, she really seemed to be doing well today.”

Most days he looked haggard, dark circles colored his under eyes, worry streaking down his face in thick fatigue, still he pushed forward, bit the bullet and attended therapy sessions with you for domestic violence survivors, and his own sessions for a fancy named disorder he didn’t care to understand.

He’d take care of you just like he promised.

Eddie opens his eyes and forces a smile, “Night and day difference compared to how she was the day of,” his dark blood shot eyes swim with his admission, “but we’re hopeful.. I mean things can only get better right?”

—

The first night at your new temporary place was perfect. You and Eddie were both welcomed with open arms literally, from both Steve and Leighanne. They showed you around, telling you everything that polite and generous hosts would.

After bringing in the few bags and boxes in from the van that were deemed needed and not marked to be brought to storage, your hosts leave you and Eddie alone for time to unpack and relax.

Time that you both took advantage of by immediately stretching out and taking a nap in the big king bed you had shared all those months ago. A bittersweet nostalgic memory, tinged with pain.

The love that was made, the life that was created—seemed like a different life time ago. Trauma and stress had changed you both.

And when you wept, Eddie held you close, his own tears tickled your hairline, and you both held onto the promise of unspoken devotion and undying love for one another to get through to another day.

When you woke from your slumber, Eddie wasn’t in the bed, and it left you in a small state of panic. The unfamiliar walls closing in like a trap. And you used your therapist’s tips to ground yourself; the repeated mantra, the breathing exercises, and if necessary, a shower to metaphorically rinse your mind of unwanted thoughts.

Finding the toiletries in your bag, you pad across the hall and step into the tiled shower. The hot steam coaxing the pressure off your chest. Relaxation floods your body almost instantly.

A soft knock on the door followed by Eddie’s voice, quiet and calm. The drag of the shower curtain brings your eyes up to find Eddie on the opposite side, “you okay?”

He was gentle, always. And you nodded. You would be okay, you would always be okay with him. Nobody ever made you feel safe like he did.

An unspoken agreement that neither of you were ready for anything intimate, seemed to break. Seeing him in light other than the harsh fluorescent ones in the hospital had you reaching for him.

His hooded eyes understood, and he pulled his shirt over his head, catching on the cast on his right arm.

He was beautiful, the dark lines of tattoos and smearing bruises complimented his pale skin, and a deep feeling flooded you. Only having felt it once before, the night of his concert… right before he kissed you.

The wet tile warmed his toes as he slid in beside you. Facing you and forgoing the doctors orders of not getting his cast wet, he asks just like he did that night.

Sharing kisses in the hospital and holding each other in the hospital was the most intimate you had been since that night.

And something that brought fear was once again replaced by the gentle touch of his hand. Running down the expanse of your back. Fingers moving down your spine in memory. His forehead pressed to yours.

“You’re perfect,” he soothes, running his fingers around to intertwine with yours, “I’m so goddamn in love with you.”

The tears tread down your cheeks, and he kisses them away, making your heart swell, and you muster out a blubbery, “I love you more.”

You both stand and hug until the water chills. Exiting the shower and wiping the condensation from the mirror.

The swelling around your face had gone down significantly, and even though you didn’t recognize yourself, Eddie reassured you that you were the most beautiful girl in the world.

“My girl,” he promised.

The days got easier, friends visited and cheered you both up. The hope for a better tomorrow came with the sun and pressed daintily on your skin, healing wounds deep within that in the early days of waking up screaming, you weren’t sure you would ever come back to see again.

—

“Does Eddie like tomatoes?”

The large knife moves through the juicy tomato with ease under Steve’s hand. You were perched on an expensive barstool, elbow digging into the granite counter tops as he prepped the salad for tonight’s dinner.

A smirk licks your lips, “no, he claims he’s allergic; calls them ‘ketchup testicles’”.

Steve cocks an eyebrow and blows a raspberry, “What a moron.”

“You don’t have to cook for us, y’know?” you say, picking the dry skin from your lip.

He shrugs, “it’s just a little salad, Leighanne made the alfredo lastnight, and if I follow the instructions right,” he says picking up a piece of notebook paper, including little hearts you can see through at the bottom in a very pretty cursive handwriting, “we’ll just have to heat er up.” Steve says, pushing a rogue hair from his forehead, “besides, I actually like to cook; she spoils me and doesn’t let me help.”

“I’m happy for you,” you say with a small smile, “you deserve it.”

“She’s the one,” Steve grins, love sick pupils widening at the thought of her, “but hey, you and Eddie finally pulling your heads out of your asses is the real winner— should have slapped you both for being so damn dumb.”

The middle finger you hold in the air just makes Steve laugh.

Who knew the prince of rebellion and chaos wore his heart on a leather sleeve only for you? The blinders you wore to convince yourself it wasn’t real were finally tossed aside.

He loved you, and you loved him. End of story.

Before you could answer, the mayor of mayhem announced himself back from work, keys jingling and whistling a tune you didn’t recognize. And when his dark eyes catch yours, they swim and shimmer in adoration.

Dimpled cheeks dip onto his toothy smile, “there’s my pretty girl,” he sings, coming behind you and hugging your waist. The smell of cigarettes and motor oil stuck on his curls. Chapped lips on your temple, “how was your day?... you okay?”

Eddie hated leaving you alone, taking his lunch break to come back to the big house and check on you, using his smoke breaks to call whenever he could.

You nod into him, “better now,” leaning your head back to press your lips to kiss.

An annoyed groan follows from across the kitchen island, “let’s keep it PG in here okay? I know you guys finally admitted you love eachother but that doesn’t mean I want to see all of that.”

Eddie’s chuckle fans over your cheeks and he answers Steve but his eyes lock on yours, “big talk for a guy who could make a deaf man blush.”

Steve guffaws and stops slicing, “and what’s that supposed to mean?”

Eddie grins and whispers finally looking away from you, “Quiet neighborhood… thin walls… you wouldn’t even need to ask who occupies this house with the way Steve whimpers Leighanne’s name… every night, they’re like rabbits.”

You both giggle at Steve’s expense when his cheeks turn crimson and the tomatoes he’s cutting end up mutilated.

—

Living with Steve and Leighanne was surprisingly easy. Their routines stayed the same, and Eddie went back to

work for Boom after you had settled in.

He was a saint.

He held you when the nightmares started again. Sweat pooling on your shirt waking only to find Eddie’s arms wrapped tight around you tethering you back to reality when his thumbs swept over your cheeks, and his lips kissed away your tears. Quiet whispers and soft hums of his voice lulled you as he pulled you deeper into him.

Eddie and Steve kept up the light jokes and cracks at one another all the time. it was good to be around close friends and laugh again— something both you and Eddie had missed desperately.

Laying in bed one night, you walk your fingers up his bare chest tracing the lines of his tattoos, snuggled up into his side like a cat.

His nails scratch at the fabric on your hips, “still not used to how good it feels to stretch out like this,” Eddie exhales, “I don’t know about you sweeteheart, but one more night in that hospital bed and I was going to ask Dr. Newby for fucking life alert.”

You giggle into his smooth skin, “twenty-six with life alert? Gonna thread that onto your pick chain necklace huh?”

“Shit,” Eddie chuckles, “I’d make it look so good babe, Ozzy himself would start wearing one.”

Hearing him joke around was a huge win. His bruises were fading too. But his wounds were deeper, wedged into the grim corners of his mind. Keeping him up most nights, afraid of falling asleep.

But each day the sun rose following the pattern of the moon, and another day passed. Eddie started sleeping at night again, your nightmares dormant. Medicine and therapy working into the perfect cocktail to deter his own demons.

The two of you clung together. Molded into one another like playdoh, forming a new hue after mixing your colors together. It changed with your moods, vibrant and sunny on good days and moody and dark on the bad ones. Interconnected by the fragile trauma that weaved its way into your life.

The laughing fit you are both in is partly from lack of sleep, but feels too damn good to stop. Snorting and dripping tears from your eyes, your roars turn to giggles and hiccups as you wipe your eyes.

“Didn’t know if I’d ever hear that again,” Eddie admits while rubbing your side, placing a kiss on your head.

You lean on his chest and look deep into his coal eyes.

“We’ve been to hell and back, babe… but with you, it’s, I don’t know… I just know that we will be okay, does that make sense? I’m not worried about anything because I have you, and I couldn’t do any of this without you Eddie, and I mean that. You’re all I’ve got.”

Eddie rolls you over and tucks a wet lock of hair behind your ear, “I’d do it all again if I knew I’d end up with you as my girl.”

The tears start but they aren’t sad, they’re slow and happy, grateful for having him in your life. He wipes your tears and kisses you softly, humming the same song he sang like an idiot to you in your car all those months ago.

The calloused hearted trailer park prince had won over the icy soul of that stubborn mouthy girl. A perfect pair, tarnished crowns and stitched lips.

To hell and back.

#eddie munson #eddie x fem!reader #eddie x you #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst #stranger things

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callme-darling · 4 months

Note

What if we give Vincent some angst, breaking up with him because all he does is work :((

sometimes, love isn’t enough

word count: 680

warnings: fem reader, angst (i LOVE angst hehe)

if there’s one thing you understood before getting serious with vincent, it was that his work hours and workload would require a significant amount of his time and attention. you understood that, and you rolled with it. for awhile, at least.

it wasn’t so bad in the beginning. sure, he’d be a little late coming home sometimes, the dinner you prepared having gone cold sitting on the stove. but dinner could be reheated, and he was always present when talking to you, so you let that slide.

but when the late nights in the office began to bleed into reservations planned out months ahead, you couldn’t deny the hurt. or his growing nonchalance to missing milestones; that was when the attitude you had managed to keep began to falter.

you stopped asking him when he expected to be home, knowing that whatever answer he gave you would likely run at least two hours later. for nearly a week you even stopped talking to him, just to see if he’d notice. he didn’t.

thus, your decision was made. you packed all of your clothes and most of your smaller possessions while he was at work. no rush, you’d joke to yourself, there’s plenty of time to leave someone who never felt your absence in the first place. despite your reservations on leaving, it still tasted bitter. your bottom lip quivered as you gingerly tucked the final picture frames in your suitcase.

most of your bags had already been packed in your car, and you were exhausted by the time you got the last one slotted into the backseat. it was dusk and you knew you had a long drive to your friends house.

a handwritten letter sat on the dining table, drafted as a final farewell and touch of love you weren’t sure would even be felt.

‘vincent,

forgive me, but this seemed better. i’d rather have you remember me as the coward who wrote my fears rather than how i ruined everything by saying them out loud.

i love you, i do. but i’m afraid i’ve made that love too important. because you’re going to leave me. we can’t deny it, you’re always going to leave. i could feel it already. i’ve never felt more alone than in a room with you. i’m afraid i’ll love you forever and we will never be in the same room again. i know you look at me, but do you still see me?

i think we both deserve a soft epilogue. no screaming, no tears, no chance for a hurtful exchange. so i’ll finish this with a simple goodbye. that would be better than saying something dangerous, like i love you.

y/n’

a few hours later, when you’re already halfway to the coast of bordeaux where your friend is waiting for you, your phone dings in the cupholder. ‘where are you?’ a few minutes pass before a picture of vincent’s smiling face illuminates the small screen as it vibrates. you let it ring until the screens goes black. a moment later a stream of messages chime. ‘please answer darling’ ‘where are you going?’ ‘answer the phone, please y/n’. then another call attempt. you ignore that one too.

your eyes began to sting as your throat constricts. you didn’t want to leave, let alone leave like this, but you knew yourself too well. if you had stayed, waited for him to come home, you knew you’d stay for good. at least, until it got bad again. and thus, by running away like some coward, you’re escaping a fatal cycle, you convinced yourself over and over again. it was the right move, he’ll move on soon enough, and i will too, the voice in your head reminded you.

what hurt the most, you supposed, was not the fact that you were unloved. vincent loved you, you were certain of that. but it still wasn’t enough. that is where your pain lives.

and for the remaining two hour drive to bordeaux, you wept quietly to yourself, knowing vincent was doing the same in the home you once shared.

#ꕤ ₊˚✧ mailbox .#❀₊˚✧ thots .#swann arlaud #anatomy of a fall #vincent renzi #anatomie d'une chute #anatomy of a fall vincent

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crazyoffher · 11 months

Text

LETTING YOU GO.

jenna ortega x fem!reader

summary: you let jenna go.

warnings: not proofread, unedited. angst.

word count: 1100+

a/n: small fic while i think about what to do with ‘watchtower’.

“I don’t understand just why you want to keep me guessing!” You shouted, beyond annoyed with Jenna’s antics. Your thumbs swiped against your forehead, frustration clear on your face.

You and Jenna were in the midst of a fight. You have had enough with her—the ignoring, the yelling—she wasn’t who she once was.

“I’m sorry that I have a job! That I have a life outside of you, that I-”

“This is not about that!” You practically screamed. Jenna stepped back, clearly shocked by your yelp. You had yelled before, but not with the same amount of anger in your tone as right now.

“This is about your insufferable attitude, your ignorancy; you forget about our anniversary, for fuck’s sake! You can blame it on your jobs all you want, but I've been here with you throughout most of your career, as friend and girlfriend, and this is not just because of them.” Your hand found it’s way to your hair, pushing it back. Jenna's eyes were filled with guilt. She knew her attitude was inexcusable, and she went to reply, but you weren’t done.

“Seriously, what have I done or said to make you feel this way? You won’t ever talk to me, and I’m tired of it! I’m tired of you, Jenna.”

Your heart was breaking with every word you spoke; the pain built up in you at being ignored and feeling unloved meant that every word you thought you’d never speak came out of your mouth, more unbearably as the truth.

“I-” Jenna tried to explain herself, but her brain shut off at the thought of it. “I’m sorry,” was all she said.

“So, no explanation?” You shook your head, a heartbroken smile plastered on your face, at her audacity. “No explanation at all? Pouring my heart out to you, trying my hardest to communicate with you, and you still won’t talk to me?”

Jenna wanted to tell you everything—what she’s going through, why she’s acted like a bitch, how badly she’s wanted to just be with you—but the words were caught in her throat with no way of escaping.

“I’m sorry.” She repeated, a tear falling from her eye, stricken with emotion. She wanted to talk this through with you so badly, but her body wasn’t letting her. Her body wanted you to leave, despite her mind knowing that was the opposite of what she ever wanted to happen.

“Alright, well,” you wiped your tears away, now noticing that they fell despite your attempts to keep them at bay, “I think I’m better off alone then.”

Your words caused Jenna to perk up. Her eyes widened, and her eyebrows morphed into a frown-y expression. “What?”

“Don’t act so surprised, Jenna.” Your mouth clenched shut, and tears still fell from your eyes, but you could care less now. You had grown immensely irate with her, and in your mind, she didn’t love you anymore, so why should you care about her feelings?

“I’ve been done with you for such a long time. I don’t think even you know how long you’ve been acting this way. First you want to hate me, then you want to love me; it’s so tiring figuring out your next mood.”

“Please, (Y/N)-”

“No, Jenna.” You cut her off. “I’m letting you go because I feel that I’m not who you want.”

Breathing excessively; you didn't even realize you'd been holding your breath. Jenna shook her head, disagreeing with your words because they simply weren’t true. You were what she wanted. She woke up every day happy that she was with you and that you chose her. She didn’t know what she’d do without you.

As you headed for the door, you felt a tug on your wrist. Jenna’s hand was on your arm.

“Please don’t go.” You could barely hear it. You wanted to break down from the tone of her voice, whispered so low and in a crack, a word away from crying her eyes out.

“I can’t be with someone who lives their life as if I don’t exist.”

You woke up. You wish it was actually a dream, but it wasn’t.

Sitting up, you threw the covers to the side of the bed, treading into the bathroom in your hotel room. It was the same thing every night for the past two months: reliving the memory of your breakup. Though each night the dream got shorter and less lengthy, it used to go up until you got into your car, with Jenna at your car window begging you to get out, and then it’d cut.

Turning on the light, you drowned your face in cold water to wake yourself up, afraid that if you fell back asleep, the dream would continue. Saying you missed her was an understatement, but it was for the best.

You wished that she wasn’t famous, that you wouldn’t hear her name everywhere, and that her fans wouldn’t still be sending you hate that you didn’t deserve. You wished that after Stuck In The Middle, she would’ve quit as she once planned, but she didn’t, and you supported her in every way you could until you couldn’t anymore.

“Jenna Ortega finds a new love interest after (Y/N) (L/N), maybe? New photos spot her with co-star (NAME REDACTED). They’re a little too close for comfort in friendship, if you ask me.” The TV blared from the other room. You completely ignored it when you got up, forgetting it was on and playing all night.

Your head turned to the sound, toothbrush in hand. You set it down, opening the door to the bathroom and eyeing the TV.

“The co-star in question, (NAME REDACTED), has a history of being with multiple women per year, seemingly never committing to one. Will Jenna finally make him commit, or will he just add her to his list?”

You knew him. You met him when you visited Jenna on the set, and you could tell of his interest in Jenna by the way he acted toward you. Immediately, you knew that the “relationship” was a PR stunt, the idea coming up to Jenna by her agent not long after you had met him, to which she turned down. She was happy with you, or was at the time.

Still, it didn’t prevent your heart from burning at the thought that, in order to make their relationship believable, they’d have to hug, kiss, and be with one another constantly. It made you want to gag.

Slowly and surely, you were getting over Jenna. It just... was harder than you anticipated getting over breakups to be when you were younger, before ever getting into a relationship.

You sighed, heading to the nightstand beside your messy bed and turning the TV off. Your wrist was on the doorknob to the bathroom when there was a knock at your door. Sighing, you moved to open the door in your disheveled state.

“Hey, don’t worry about the housekeeping; I’ve got it all — Jenna?”

☟ ☟ ☟

thinking about making a taglist what y'all buds think? also might not make a part 2 to this and if i ever do, it’d be after i finish my watchtower series :)

#Spotify #jenna ortega #jenna ortega x reader #jenna marie ortega #jenna ortega x you #jenna ortega x fem!reader #wednesday #the fallout #celebrity x reader #fanfiction #angst #jenna ortega angst #wednesday addams #wattpad #lesbian

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imyourbratzdoll · 2 years

Text

𝒎𝒓𝒔 𝒉𝒐𝒘𝒍𝒆𝒕𝒕

this is part 2 of just a bet.

summary - when the reader left steve after finding out she was just a bet, she found a new home and a new family, followed by meeting the love of her life, logan.

warning - fluff, angst, swearing.

the gifs I use aren’t mine, divider by @newlips

But every fairytale has a happy ending.

After everything that had happened with Steve and being a bet, I never thought I’d find love or trust someone again. But then he came along… Logan Howlett. Gaining the room's attention with his fluffy hair and bulging muscles, but what caught my attention was his ‘give no shit’ attitude and the fact that when we first met, he didn’t try to get into my pants or hit on me. Logan simply glared and snarled before walking away.

But I didn’t blame Logan for how he was because when he first met me. I was the same. I was closed off, and albeit I didn’t glare or snarl at him, I wasn’t exactly the friendliest, and it was all because of how one man and his friends managed to make me feel below myself and unloved.

Over the years, Logan and I would briefly talk if needed, I don’t know when it started, but one day I woke and felt my heart begin to skip a beat whenever I’d look at him or catch him staring. I found that my cheeks would constantly become a rosy pink around him, and it scared the hell out of me because this was how I felt with Steve before everything happened, and I didn’t want to go through that pain again, even if it meant shielding myself from love forever.

It took a while for me to warm up to Logan, especially when he began to warm up to me. Charles told me that I was special and that Logan has always been grumpy, but he’s been more closed off ever since Jean. Which was a shock once I learnt everything that happened between the two and how she still chose Scott even though she made Logan feel special and made him think he had a chance.

In my mind, all of this was a mess. I spent time building walls just for this burly wolf-like man to walk into my life and knock them down. I remember when Logan and I had an actual conversation with no snarkiness or sarcasm, and it was just peaceful.

I’m standing outside, tending to the flowers, the one thing that brought me peace when I arrived here. “You know, staring isn’t polite.” I turn my head slightly, looking at Logan, taking in his white tank top and jeans as he leans against a tree, a cigar held loosely between his lips. His piercing blue eyes stare daggers into me over his sunglasses.

Logan huffs as he pushes himself off the tree and walks over to me, “why are you always out here? Tending to these stupid weeds?” The deep rumble of his voice rolls off his tongue and sends shivers through my body.

I squint up at him, the sun blinding me. “It calms me. The only thing that’s brought me peace out of this hellhole of a world.” Without thinking, Logan takes his sunglasses off and puts them on me. My heart nearly bursts out of my chest at the action, “thank you.” I give him a soft smile before looking down at the flowers with crimson cheeks.

“Do you mind if I join you?” He grunts, the question startles me. I shyly nod, never expecting those words to leave the man’s mouth. The thought of finally having someone to share this with causes my heart to warm, hopefully.

Logan and I spend the next few hours talking, him sometimes helping me tend to the flowers or standing back watching me. His presence comforted me more than anyone’s had in my lifetime; for a second, it was scary.

I blink as the memory of our first real conversation flashes through my mind, and a gentle smile is brought to my face. “What’s got you all happy?” The sound of the familiar gruff voice still brings butterflies to my stomach. Logan walks into my view and bends down, pecking my lips. “Is there someone else I don’t know about, Mrs Howlett?”

My breath hitches, one at his taste and two as he calls me by my new last name. I give him a bright smile, leaning forward to provide him with another kiss as our eyes connect. “Only you, Mr Howlett. It’ll only ever be you.” The feel of his arms wrapping around me causes me to feel safe, my eyes closing as I give my complete trust to my husband.

I know you all may be confused about the big jump, but I couldn’t give away the goods straight away now, could I? As you’ve seen, Logan and I didn’t like each other immediately, and then we slowly began warming up to one another. You saw our very first genuine conversion and then straight to us being married. I won’t let you miss our big day, so don’t worry!

After our conversation, weeks went by of us continuing that pattern until he suddenly asked me on a date. At first, I was hesitant, and for obvious reasons, but he looked me in the eyes and told me he was a grown man and not a spoilt child. Just because someone else threw away a perfect toy doesn’t mean he will. And yes, he said toy, but I didn’t take offence to that because, honestly, what he said was sweet, especially from a man like Logan.

That day, he took me out on a picnic. Complimenting me on the pretty pastel yellow sundress I wore, he picked my favourite flowers and bought my favourite food. We sat, ate and shared stories. Our first date was when Logan found out how and who hurt me, and that was when I also learned about his past from him. He held me against his warm body when night fell as we watched the stars. That was the night we fell in love with each other, and many more dates came after before Logan brought me back to the exact spot of our first date and proposed.

I never thought I’d find love again, but Logan brought me back to life, and I’m grateful. Now the day of our wedding was my favourite, I didn’t expect a tough man like Logan to cry, but he did.

My dress trailed behind me as I walked down the aisle toward my happiness. My eyes lit up with joy as they connected with Logan, who had tears rolling down his face. When I got close, Charles handed me off, offering us a smile.

Logan and I looked at each other with nothing but love. Storm began to speak, and we both repeated what she said, never once taking our eyes off one another. Not even when we had to grab our rings before Storm could tell Logan he could now kiss the bride, I interrupt.

“Kiss me,” I whispered, my voice soft and full of love.

Logan raised a brow as he smiled, “You always order me about.”

“Kiss me.”

“Are you sure?” He murmured, his mouth curved into a wolfish smile. “Because once I do, I might not be able to–”

I grabbed the back of his head and yanked him down. Our lips connect and move with passion. His arms wrap around me, and large hands splayed on my back as he dips me. We both smile into the kiss as cheers explode from the seats. Logan and I slowly disconnect from one another, looking into each other’s eyes as we smile.

“I love you, Mr Howlett.”

“And I love you, Mrs Howlett.”

“Darling.” I blink as I’m brought out of another memory, and my eyes connect with Logan's blue ones. “Where’d you go again?” I offer a happy smile.

“I was remembering our wedding day.” Logan’s face breaks into a giant grin as he remembers it.

“Well, c’mon, there’s someone outside looking for ya, and Charles won’t tell me who.” I nod, standing up and walking out of the room with him. Our hands interlaced as we entered the main room. I tighten my grip on Logan’s hand as I feel the tension.

“Logan said there was someone here for me?” I watch as my new family gulps before Charles rolls forward and says a name I’d never thought I’d hear again.

“Steve managed to find where you were, and he wouldn’t leave until you heard him out.” Charles rolls toward me, grabbing my hands and ignoring Logan’s growls. “We did try and make him leave, Y/n. Please know we would never try to hurt you intentionally.”

“It’s okay, and I guess it was going to happen sooner or later.” I take a deep breath before turning toward the man who caused me trouble. “What do you want, Steve? I thought I told you to go to hell?” I hold back the smile, desperately trying to escape at Logan’s chuckle.

Steve rubs the back of his neck as he goes to take a step toward me but reconsiders as Logan glares menacingly and growls. “I came to say I regret everything, and these past few years have been hell for me.” Steve stands tall, squaring his chest, when he realises Logan isn’t leaving my side. “I want you back. Don’t you want to be mine again?” I scrunch my nose at the words that leave his mouth, quickly placing my hand on Logan’s chest to stop him from ripping the man apart.

I walk forward, desperately wanting to wipe the smug smirk that rests upon Steve’s face. “Steven, you would be the last man I’d ever get with if we were the only ones alive.” The smirk slowly slides off his face, but I don’t stop. “You may think you can get any woman you want even after ripping their hearts out and stomping on it because of how you look, but you didn’t always look like this, did you, Steve?” Feeling the anger deep inside, I get in his face. “Remember when you were just a little guy and women would mock you? They’d rip your heart out and pierce it with their heels because you weren’t worth their time.”

Steve gulps, looking at the group of people behind me for help, but all he receives are malicious smiles. Fear spiked within him when his eyes connected with Logan’s before quickly looking down at me. “Well, guess what, Stevie? You aren’t worth anyone’s time now, and god, I wish I could punch your stupid face for what you did to me.”

Steve smugly smiles. “Do it.” The taunting tone causes my fist to twitch. My eyes trail down his body before coming back up and connecting with his eyes. ‘Typical, men always think they know everything.’

“Alright.” I smile, pulling my fist back before a crunching sound fills the room as my fist connects with his nose. I watch as Steve falls to the ground and follow by leaning down, level with his ear. “You ever come near me again, and no one will ever find your body.” I stand and walk away, needing some air.

Logan’s POV.

‘Fuck, I desperately wanted to kiss the life out of my wife right now.’ I thought as I watched her leave, followed by everyone else. I walk over to the pathetic sack of meat on the ground. Swiftly pulling out a cigar and lighting it, I stand over him.

Steve slowly looks up at the intimidating man, blood dripping from his broken nose. “I do care for her. She’s–”

“Not yours,” I gruffly finish. “They are my rings on her finger. It’s my name she’s taken, and it’s my bed, she shares.” I growl out the following words. “She is mine. So whether you care for her or not isn’t fucking relevant.” I grunt, puffing out some smoke with every word I speak.

Steve swallows, a groan falling from his lips at the pain. “She was mine first.”

I roll my eyes, wanting to stick my claws through his chest to put myself out of this misery. “And you shouldn’t have been a dick. You made a bet and let her go, and that was your mistake.” Feeling done with the conversation, I walk in the direction my wife left. Leaving the mess on the floor.

The moment I spot her, I let out a sigh of relief and make my way over with long strides, needing my wife in my arms. When I reach Y/n, my arms instinctively wrap around her as I nuzzle my face into her neck. “Mine.”

She leans into me as she lets out a breathy whisper. “Yours.”

thank you for reading!

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

I hope you liked part 2 @paarthurnax59

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akindplace · 8 months

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I know it might be really hard to believe things get better right now, and you’re probably feeling a lot of pain and that’s making you wonder what’s the point in trying but I promise you’re not worthless, you’re not beyond helping, you’re not broken beyond repair. You’re just a person who has been through a lot and you haven’t had a break in so long, so it’s no wonder you’re so tired. Just as other people are deserving of good things, you are too. Just as they need rest, so do you. Just as they deserve help when they feel lost, so do you. You don’t have to go through all this alone.

And even though you might feel unloveable, people do notice you, people do care, even if it’s someone you don’t really feel that close to. There are people out there who are looking for someone like you to be connect with, who will think you’re funny and won’t judge you for being weird.

All the hate you have received wasn’t fair, and it might make you feel like there is something deeply wrong with you and therefore you don’t deserve any help, but just as humans have a huge capacity for doing awful things, we also have the ability to love, to help, to persevere, to create beautiful things. I hope you don’t give up on yourself, and that you are able to find help with whatever you need, and that you find the love, companionship and understanding you’ve been craving.

No one deserves to go through so much pain all alone, but please don’t isolate yourself out of fear of how others may perceive you, your pain, your problems. You deserve to be seen, to feel connected. There is hope, so please hold on, please get help if you need to, please try to talk to someone, please don’t give up. Things can still get better. I’m wishing you the best.

#I hope you find peace and I hope you find the kind of help you need and I hope you feel very loved #very soon #self-worth #on living #on being human #positivity blog #self-compassion #validation #original writing

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robinhills · 1 month

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💫ROBINHILL Smut

kinda scared cause this is only my third time writing smut 😣 I wanna try and make this as in character as I can but it’s gonna probably end up being OOC‼️‼️

also when you think of the hotel suite, my idea for how it would look would kinda be a mix of the penacony hotel rooms and the hotel suite from pretty women.

btw bootyhill can’t reproduce cause cyborg 🦿

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CW(s): cyborg sex, porn with plot? + aftercare/pillowtalk, established relationship, missionary, soft sex, praise, biting, hair tugging, touched starved Boothill, Makeup sex? pussy eating, crying during sex, boothill has a normal dick because I’m a pussy, cream pie.

synopsis: they're dating, semi makeup sex?🩷

“I’d travel across galaxies of torture and pain if it meant I could hold you”

Robin had just finished her concert, and finally got back to the hotel she was staying at, she was exhausted, but remembering the smiles she saw on people’s faces as she sang, always made her feel a bit better about her day, sure her long and excruciating makeup routine, plus the hours of dance practice, the strict diets, the hate mail, the constant business, the occasional stalkers, made it rough, but just knowing that she could have made one persons day better with her music kept her going.

But that doesn’t mean the fatigue wasn’t getting to her, and…aeons, she missed Boothill, last time they seen each other had been almost two months ago, they had gotten into an argument about how she felt like she wasn’t enough for him…and than she suggested he was cheating on her.

when they had first met, he was a “pump and dump” kinda guy, the type of guy who sleeps with a women one time, and never calls again, didn’t date, and sure as hell, didn’t stick to one gal.

of course deep down she knew he had changed, she knew he loved her, but, she was so busy all the time, and exhausted, and they didn’t sleep together as much as most couples did.

did he feel unsatisfied? Unloved? The guilt of arguing with him over something she knew wasn’t true was eating her up, she just wanted to see him again, but even after apologizing, she couldn’t bring herself to ask him to see her.

She pulled out her phone, scrolling to her texts with boothill, staring at them.

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Boothill🦾🤠| 09:34

Heya Darling, I know last night we had that argument and I left suddenly, I’m sorry I’ve made you feel like you ain’t enough, and I’m gonna try and fix that, promise, 🦾 I’m gonna be gone for a few months on some business and I won’t be able to text much, I love you read✔️

Robin🎶🪽| 09:42

it’s okay, I get it, I shouldn’t have yelled at you, I know you aren’t being unfaithful, Boothill, I’m really sorry, I’ll make it up to you, none of this is your fault, I love you. read✔️

Boothill🦾🤠| 09:46

it’s fine darling, I get it, I’ll see you as soon as I can, just let me know when ya want to see me and I’ll come running over🦿, see ya, sweet cheeks ❤️ read✔️

Robin🎶🪽| 09:46

Okay, I’ll miss you, cowboy. <3 read✔️

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She sighed, her hand clenching around her phone, seeing that made her feel a bit better, she smiled to herself as she walked down the halls to her hotel room.

she took out her keycard, making sure to check both ways, before quickly opening it and rushing inside, shutting and locking it as quickly as possible, perhaps she was a bit paranoid but better safe than sorry.

Aeons, now she just wanted a nice shower, and sleep, maybe she’d order a bottle of champagne and a box of chocolates.

as she walked in, she noticed the hotel suite was faintly lit by candles, she glanced at the bed, rose petals spread across it, she slowly reached in her bag for her pepper spray, aeons, she hoped she didn’t have a crazy fan inside her room.

She peeked around the corner holding her pepper spray tightly, her thumb on the button, ready to spray.

And there he was, sitting in a chair across the room, already starting to get up, only immediately to sit back down, and put his metallic hands up in defeat.

“eh..hey there…darlin?“ he said, with an unsure tone, as he stared at the pepper spray, and chuckled, slowly standing up.

“sheesh, ya still mad about the fight? Is that it?”

Robin stared for a moment, and sighed, slowly putting the pepper spray down, her wings relaxed in relief, and she rushed over into his arms, burying her face in his neck, his arms wrapping around her waist, spinning her around in his arms. “I missed you.” she whispered into his neck, holding onto him tightly as he slowly set her down, back on her feet. “aww, I missed you too, sugar.”

“im sorry.” she said, almost immediately, staring up at him, her lips curved down into a small frown, the wings behind her ears drooping downwards.

he simply smiled, and took off his hat, tossing it. “Angel, it’s fine, really, it’s okay, do I look mad to you? Cause I ain’t mad.” he trailed his robotic fingers along her cheek.

she hesitates, but she eventually lets out a sigh of relief, nodding slowly, leaning her head into his cold, metal hands. “I know you’re not..” there was a moment of silence.

…

he must have noticed she still looked upset, because he scooped her up over his shoulder, and started walking over to the bed and before she got the chance to object, he tossed her down on it, and quickly started to undress himself.

“d-dear?…” she says after a moment, slowly sitting up, watching him, she sighed. “you want to do this now?…”

“do ya not want to?” “no I do..but I’m tired…”

He paused, and sighed, smiling. “than ill do all the work, you just lay back and enjoy it, sugar…is that okay?”

She hesitated for a moment, she didn’t like having him do all the work…it made her feel like she wasn’t pleasing him.

but the way he stares at her, it reassures her, she sighs softly, and nods slowly. “yes.”

he chuckles softly, and slowly leans down, climbing on top of her, planting a gentle kiss on her cheek.

“Yes what? Use your words, baby.” she sighed, her cheeks growing hot, she felt that fluttering in her stomach at his words, and she clenched her thighs together, her wings perked up a tad. After a moment, she said in a soft voice, leaning back.

“Yes..I want you to make love to me.” He paused, and giggled, he felt giddy hearing that, and planted a kiss on her lips.

“Than ya hold on, sweet cheeks, we goin all night!”

He proceeded to help her get undressed, making sure to be extra gentle with her, the cold steel of his hands caused her to occasionally shiver or tense, he kept checking on her to make sure she was okay. once he got her dress and jewelry off, he slowly removed her bra, planting a kiss on both of her breasts, rubbing her stomach slowly. “Mm..missed my girls…and ya nipples already so perky and hard, just for me.” he chuckled, kissing her right nipple, than her left.

She shivered, and looked down at him, slowly caressing the back of his head with her hand, her fingers curling around his hair, playing with it softly.

“Don’t say stuff like that..it’s embarrassing..” she mumbled with a soft tone, sighing, her cheeks flushed brightly, her lips glossy from the wet kisses he kept giving her.

”but it’s true.” He captured a nipple in his mouth, swirling his tongue around her harden nipple, sucking gently.

she let out a small, content sigh, her eyes half lidded, the wings behind her ears fluttered again, she leaned her head back into the pillow, she smiled slightly for a moment, he always found a way to make her smile.

he slowly started moving down her body, trailing kisses down her stomach, and stopping right above her pubic area. “is this okay, baby?” Robin nodded slowly, and grabbed a pillow to hold onto, pressing it against her chest, burying her mouth in it, and mumbled into it.

“Yes. Go ahead, love.” her wings fluttered again, and she squirmed her hips around a bit.

Boothill slowly sat up, taking off her underwear slowly, he glanced at it, and chuckled as he noticed her slick. “sheesh, sugar, ya already that wet?” he paused for a moment, staring at her flustered face, and he said slowly, in a softer, more serious tone.

“Atta Girl, Lift those pretty legs up for me.” She felt those butterflies in her stomach again, but it felt hotter, she felt a throbbing on her clit, and glanced down, noticing Boothill’s erect thick cock, and how swollen and red the tip looked, thank aeons he kept his dick, her wings fluttered again, she was practically salivating. she obeyed, lifting her legs up slowly, exposing herself to him. he groaned softly, and rubbed his jaw for a moment, staring down at her pussy, his dick twitched slightly, and he sighed, almost analyzing her for a moment, his metallic fingers reached over, and he flicked her swollen bud softly, eliciting a small moan from her throat, she bucked her hips up slightly. “Boothill, please…I need you..” she cooed, squirming her hips around in a circular motion, causing him to chuckle again.

“Gosh darn, darlin…you sure are a needy lil’ thing, ain’t cha?” he sighed, and lifted her legs over his cold, metal shoulders.

“Soon…lemme prepare you first, sweet cheeks.” He leaned his hands under her, groping and kneading her rear softly, lifting her up by her butt just slightly, before leaning down, and planting a few kisses on her inner thighs, he glanced at her, before taking a small and soft nibble at her inner thigh, sucking the skin softly. she gasped, before a whimper left her lips, she stared down at him, wiggling her hips again, desperately, she hadn’t been intimate with him in so long, she didn’t realize how starved she was for him since she was always distracted with work.

“Dear…please hurry up..”

he sucked her thigh for a second more, before stopping, leaving a small red mark on her inner thigh, he sighed, and looked at her. “Relax…we don’t gotta rush everything, we have all night…” he caressed her ass slowly, and planted a loving kiss right above her clit, making her shiver.

“Move that damn pillow too, I wanna hear ya” he leaned a hand up, and snatched the pillow away, she whined.

“I need something to hold onto..”

“Squeeze the sheets, pull my damn hair, I don’t care, but don’t try and hide from me.” He quickly latched his lips onto her clit, and sucked.

she moaned softly, and bucked her hips up slightly, her nails digging into sheets, his tongue swirled around her nub, his cold, metallic hands squeezing her ass, caressing her softly.

he slowly moved his lips away from her clit, only to start lapping at her entrance, sucking and probing her pussy with his tongue, devouring her like she was his last meal on earth. he made sure to be careful not to scrape his teeth against her pussy, he kept giving loving rubs with his thumb onto her hip bone, occasionally glancing up at her, his cock pressing into the mattress, the rose petals on the bed were getting mushed up slightly by Robins squeezing and tugging of the sheets. He started flicking his tongue at her clit, switching between slow and fast every few seconds, her moans and whines filled the room, her wings got droopy from the overwhelming pleasure, and her halo tilted slightly as her head kept moving around, she moved her hands slowly to his head, tugging his long white and black hair gently as she felt that familiar, hot, tightening coil in her stomach.

“B-Boothill…’m gonna cum-“ Robin moaned softly, her body tensing up, he started giving long licks, before lapping at her clit rapidly, after a few moments, he mumbled against her pussy. “cum for me, baby, it’s okay, let go.” she than came undone on his tongue, closing her eyes as her wings fluttered slightly, her thighs clenching around his head, tugging at his hair as her orgasm washed over her, moaning out his name softly.

he kept pleasuring her through her orgasm, and once she finally relaxed, he gave a soft kiss to her pussy, and leaned up.

“glory, darlin…look how soaked you are for me!” he smiled with pride, licking his lips, he slowly climbed over her, his cock pressing against her stomach, he leaned down and wrapped a arm behind her head, the other holding Robin’s hip, caressing her softly.

“Tell me when you’re ready for me darlin.” He kissed her forehead, and brushed a couple strands of her pale blue hair out of her face, his eyes half lidded.

After a five minutes of letting her relax, she gently pokes his cheek and snuggles closer to him, spreading her legs slightly.

“I’m ready, love.” she cooed softly against his ear, wrapping her arms around his neck.

he stared down at her and slowly moved up, propping himself up by his elbows, he stared down at her body for a moment, and smiled, kissing her forehead. “hold on, angel..” he slowly positioned his cock head at her entrance, and pushed in slightly, inch by inch, she whimpered as she was stretched by his cock, a drop of sweat dripping down her neck.

he leaned down and licked her neck softly, and started nibbling her neck, as he pushed himself in, groaning, she squirmed a bit, her breathing growing heavier, once his cock reached deep inside her love canal, she whimpers, and tenses up, her pussy squeezing around his cock tightly. he moans into her neck, and mumbled gently. “baby..you okay?…you tightened up..ya tense?” He kisses her neck and leans up, staring down at her, he moves a hand to her face, and rubs her cheek, kissing her lips.

once he pulls away, she shakes her head, and motions for him to start moving. “D-Dear…’m okay…move..please…” he sighs, and slowly grabs her arms, pushing them down, and interlocking their hands, he couldn’t feel her skin with his hands, he couldn’t feel her warmth, but he still wanted to comfort her, to make her feel safe.

he loves her so much, he really does, he can’t imagine being with any other women.

thrust

he only wants her.

thrust

he only needs her.

thrust

he only loves her.

He groans, moaning her name softly. “f-fudge!- aeons…Robin, yer doing so good..oh..yeah, babydoll..” his thrusts are at the perfect pace, the perfect angle, hitting right against her sweet spot, making her squirm and moan, her back arching off the bed, their soft moans filling the room, her eyes watered. ”B-Boothill…I…I love you so much!” she cooed, he filled her up so well, she squirmed her hips, his cock ramming into her, picking up the speed, he groaned into her ear repeatedly, grabbing her hips as he pounded into her passionately, occasionally slowing his hips down only to speed up once again, making her moans roll off her tongue slowly, soft coos leaving her throat.

“Mm..I love you too Robin…love ya so much, darlin..”

He glanced at the wings behind her ears, and suddenly leaned his hands over, grabbing both of them on either side, using them as handles as he thrusted inside her.

A loud moan left her lips, tears of pleasure spilling out, drooling slightly, her hips bucking upwards again.

he rolled his hips up in a way that hit her cervix, making her throw her head back.

his thumb caressed her wings slowly as he tugged them as gently as he could while he thrusted into her. She cried, and he almost slowed down. “baby? You okay? You need me to stop?-“

She quickly shook her head, and whined, her body twitching slightly, legs shaking, yet she wanted him to keep going, he sighed softly, and kissed her forehead, letting go of her wings as he wrapped his arms around her, and continued his thrusts, speeding up again quickly.

They both felt their orgasms building up rather quickly, and he groaned into her hair, he could go all night, but he could see she was pretty damn exhausted. “let go, Robin, just relax, I’ll take care of everything, just let go..cmon baby, you’re so close, you can do it, baby girl.” he moaned into her ear, thrusting faster and faster, and she whined, hugging him tightly, and her pussy tightened and squeezed around his cock, her eyes squeezed shut as she felt her orgasm rising to the very top.

he moaned against her cheek, and slammed his lips against hers, kissing her passionately as they came together, his cum filling her up as her orgasm washed over her intensely, her body twitching, he kept thrusting his cum into her, and slowed down after a few moments, fucking her through her orgasm as he moved his head up, staring down at her, with a satisfied smiled, caressing her back. “there ya go, sweetheart…ya feel good?..” he kissed her sweaty forehead, as her shaken breaths slowed down, and her twitching came to a stop, her body relaxed into the bed, going limp as her wings drooped downwards slightly, after a few moments, she whispered in a soft voice.

“mhm…” she paused, and stared at him with her big teal-emerald eyes, and smiled at him. “I love you.” he chuckled softly, and tilted his head. “I love ya too, Robin.”

after their intense lovemaking session, he decided to let her rest for the rest of the night, after all, he had all tomorrow to make love to her.

“How was it, sweet cheeks?” He murmured to her. she curled up in his arms, snuggling closer, his robotic fingers combed through her hair repeatedly. “perfect, as always.” she leaned a hand up, and started braiding some strands of his hair, smiling slightly at him.

“Heh, as always, huh? Guess you’re a pretty lucky gal.” he kissed her forehead again, rubbing her lower back with her cold, metallic fingers, it was hot outside anyways, his cool touch felt nice. “And you’re a pretty lucky man, right?” “luckiest in the world.” She giggled softly, and continued to make small braids in his hair. after some comfortable silence, he continued. “whatcha wanna do tomorrow? Shall I take my lady shopping? You wanna go see a movie?” she paused, and kissed his cheek.

“let’s stay in the hotel all day, laze around…I need some downtime” her words made him grin, and he shook his head, and brushed the wings behind her ears with his robotic fingers. “Yes ma’am.” he eyed her up and down for a moment. “Do I get to pleasure ya all day?” “of course.” she cooed, as he started massaging her thighs, and sighed, he slowly leaned down and buried his face in her breasts, closing his eyes. “mm…you a real beauty…ya know that darlin?” she sighs and kisses the top of his head, caressing the back of his head gently as she held him close. “I know, you and half the galaxy tell me everyday.” She pauses. “I like hearing it more from you though.” he chuckles, and kisses her collarbone. “I know you do, sugar..”

they lay in silence, her hands slowly caressing his head as his robotic arms squeeze around her waist and thighs, occasionally planting a kiss on her collarbone or neck.

after a few minutes, Robin yawns, and curls up closer to him, as he pulls the blankets over their shoulders.

“I love you”

“I love you too”

Fin

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OMFG. FOUR WEEKS. FOUR WEEKS OF PROCRASTINATION, REWRITING, AND BRAINSTORMING, it’s finally done! HORRAY! 😍

I got a tad lazy near the end but I put sooo much effort and work into this, and I really hope it came out good,

I love robinhill so much and I feel like there isn’t enough content of them at all! So I hope this gets popular enough just to get robinhill more noticed, because I really love this stupid silly ship 🩷

I hope it was an enjoyable experience for anyone who was reading, good morning, good afternoon, and goodnight! - Songbird

#robin x boothill #robinhill #hsr boothill #hsr robin #robin hsr #boothill hsr #penacony #soft smut #smut #hsr smut #Robinhill smut #Spotify #boothill x robin

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