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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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sunlightmurdock · 9 months

Note

Ok rooster & mav's daughter...maybe they're just hooking up currently but she's been in the trenches with her feelings for him for yearsss and then he gets hurt or something during training & she's a mess and mav says he's going to be ok but she's so torn up and it forces them to DTR right in front of mav who is confused beyond belief & not angry yet because of the shock

Omg omg yes!! So I’m just imagining a scenario in which Bradley’s in the hospital after a big accident and Maverick has been sat in the waiting area for like eighteen hours straight, waiting for Bradley to be allowed visitors after an emergency surgery

And you’re there sat beside Maverick feeling sick to your stomach because you straight up just almost lost the love of your life and can’t say anything about it, and it’s been absolutely eating you up inside, to the point that you just can’t hold it in anymore.

So finally you let out a really big breath and put your head in your hands and say, “Dad, I need to talk to you about something.”

But maverick is too busy staring at the door to Bradley’s room and gnawing at his nails to notice. So, you try again, just a little louder.

“Dad. I need to talk to you about something important.”

Maverick’s brows crease together as he cranes his neck to watch the doctors speaking together in Bradley’s hospital room. Your heart feels like it’s in your throat and you feel like you’re going to explode if you don’t get this off of your chest.

“Mav. I need to tell you something important, right now.” But it’s too late, because a doctor just left Bradley’s room and Maverick leaps to his feet as they start to walk over to the two of you.

The doctor smiles politely.

“He’s awake, he’s doing well, but he’s very tired from the medication,” And then he turns his attention towards you, smiling sincerely as he nods in your direction. “He’s asking for you.”

And your eyes just go wide. Maverick’s head whips around, looking swiftly between you and the doctor.

“For — For her? — For you? Why would he be asking for you?” Maverick stumbles, the colour draining from his face. He starts speaking faster and faster and you just know that he’s on the verge of losing it.

You’re stuck, holding your breath for a second as you try to figure out how to approach this topic. Unfortunately, you handle stressful conversations about as well as Maverick does, and you pick the ‘rip it off like a band-aid’ approach.

Taking a big, deep breath, you pause for just a second before letting it all go. “I’ve-been-sleeping-with-Rooster-for-a-year-and-a-half. Sorry, dad.”

Maverick is never rendered speechless for long. There’s a split second where he’s shocked into silence, just staring at you, and you use that to your full advantage. He’s left behind as you duck around him and rush for Bradley’s room. He stares back at the doctor in front of them, both dumbfounded by what you just said.

You slow down as you walk into Bradley’s room, sucking in a sharp breath as your hands fly up to cover your mouth.

He smiles weakly, his face battered, bruised and cut up. His hands, his knuckles, his arms. You know he must be in so much pain under all of that morphine. He swallows, “Hey, baby.”

“Rooster, you big dumb idiot.” You whimper, rushing for him and crawling into the bed beside him. He groans softly and you remind yourself to be gentle. You’ve never had to be gentle with him before. “Oh my god, look at you.”

“I’ll be alright.” He tells you, his eyelids heavy from all of the medication that he’s on.

Blinking back tears, you swallow thickly. “I thought I was going to lose you.”

Bradley’s brows knit together as much as they can without causing pain, he gives a small shake of his head and lifts his hand as much as he can with the broken ribs. You lean closer so that he can hold your cheek in his palm.

“I thought about you. The last thing I remember thinking is that I just couldn’t do this to you.” He admits quietly. You can hear a small tremble in his always strong voice. You look up at him, eyes brimming with tears. Faintly, you can hear Maverick being told to calm down in the hallway. Bradley’s drugged up enough to not have noticed yet.

You lift your hand to touch him and pull it swiftly back to your chest. You’re not sure what you can touch anymore, what won’t hurt.

“I love you.” Bradley mumbles. He takes a big breath, the first one he has been able to take since the accident that isn’t painful. Modern medicine is incredible. His hand drops from your cheek and wraps around yours. You take his hand in both of yours and bring it up to your lips, gently kissing his knuckles.

“You’re just loopy. It’s okay.” You whisper, hoping that really he isn’t. He closes his eyes and gives a tired shake of his head.

“I feel so fucking tired,” He mumbles. He gives your hand a small squeeze. “Promise you won’t leave.”

Your eyes widen as you hear the door push open behind you. Maverick stands in the doorway, his eyes widening as he takes in the sight of you two so close together. He’s still processing.

Slowly, you turn your attention back to Bradley and lift one of your hands to gently smooth his hair back. He leans into your touch.

“I’m not going anywhere, I promise.” You kiss his knuckles softly once more and Bradley hums happily.

“I’m not loopy. I do…” He stops and inhales tiredly, not quite a yawn. He’s beyond exhausted, he doesn’t even notice Maverick’s presence. “I do love you. I have. I did — before this.”

Blinking back tears, you rest your cheek against his hand once more. You lower your voice to a whisper, so that this moment is just for the two of you. “I love you too.”

He’s back to sleep quickly. You stroke softly at his hair, keeping your fingers entwined wit his as you shift delicately to turn around to look at your furious father.

“Not now, Mav.” You breathe out, quiet.

Maverick shakes his head. “No. You’re right. Not now. But we’re going to talk about this. We’re going to have a big conversation about this.”

He walks slowly into the room and settles into the chair beside Bradley’s bed. His hands curl into fists, you watch him prop his chin on one and turn back to check on Bradley.

“He’s lucky he’s already in the hospital.” Maverick mutters bitterly.

“Dad.” You warn, turning quickly and shooting him a swift glare. He sits back and folds his arms over his chest.

#bradley bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw #miles teller #bradley bradshaw smut #rooster x you #rooster bradshaw imagine #thots night (:

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scribblesofagoonerr · 2 months

Text

It's only up from here now on, kid

Since this one won in the poll that I put out, here it is ✌🏼

Thank you so much @alotofpockets for the help with this post!

Let me know what you all think & I hope you like it.

Ps. It's almost 2 am and I'm tired so I apologise if the last bit of this doesn't make much sense at all... 🫠

“It’s going to be fine, remember?” Beth tries her best to reassure you as she takes a gentle hold of your hand on her own, “Just breathe, you’re okay” she adds.

“I’m scared” You admit, barely louder than a whisper.

Viv glances at you and smiles at you sympathetically from the seat opposite, “It’s normal to feel like you do, kleintje” she tells you.

“We’re going to be right here for you the whole time” Beth promises you as she moves her free arm to wrap it around your shoulder and tug you in a little bit closer, “We’re not leaving you” she states in reassurance.

It was unfortunate for you that the day of your planned surgery came around quicker than you initially would’ve liked and you couldn’t avoid it any longer now.

The way that your uninjured knee bounced up and down anxiously and your hands that were ridiculously clammy was a clear indication of actually how worried and scared you were about this.

Both Beth and Viv could tell straight away that you were beginning to freak out the moment that you had stepped into the waiting room; You’d always hated hospitals, there was just something about them that made you always try and avoid them when it was possible.

However, this surgery wasn’t something that you could just brush under the carpet, because it was important and it was needed if you wanted to continue with your career.

Initially you thought the hardest thing that you would have to face would be dealing with the aftermath of it all, listening to the media drone on about how this injury would rule you out the rest of the current season and any international breaks for the next 9 months, like you didn’t already need enough of a reminder about your dream of the olympics being over.

It was like a virtual kick in the teeth.

You hated the fact you were sidelined from the games and despite how much you had the support of Beth, Viv, Laura, Leah and hell even the rest of the girls, it still hurt to deal with it all.

Even Kyra’s mischievous ways couldn’t put a smile on your face most days, nor the adorable puppy cuddles from Myle, Beth & Vivs’ new pup that you’d completely fallen in love with.

“Is it too late to just turn around and go back home?” You can’t help but wonder, glancing around the hospital waiting room apprehensively.

Beth lets out a small laugh, “We can’t do that kiddo, we’re already here now” she replies to your question.

Pouting quietly, you fumble with your hands which has become a trait that you’d do when you're nervous, “I… I don’t want to be here. I’m scared” you confess.

“I know kiddo, but you have nothing to be worried about” The blonde tells you in reassurement, doing her best to ease your worries about your feelings of the upcoming surgery, “The surgeons are good, they know what they're doing here” she reminds you.

“They have done it enough times” Viv chips in quietly, earning a small chuckle from Beth.

“I hate hospitals” You complain a few seconds later.

“I know that you do, kiddo” Beth smiles at you sympathetically, all but wishing that she could take your pain and suffering away.

It had hurt Beth and Viv so much to see you go down on the pitch in the way that you did, they’d not openly had a conversation about it but it was definitely understood that they shared mutual feelings about the whole situation.

None of it was fair for you, you were on the path to succeed and just like that, this cruel injury has wiped that all away in just a blink of an eye.

Life really was cruel sometimes.

“Can you… Can you run me through it again, please? Just so I remember what’s going to happen” You mumble quietly, but still loud enough for the two women to hear you ask the question, “Please” You whisper, sounding unusually vulnerable compared to usual.

“Okay” Beth exhales a sigh, she’d already run over the whole procedure of what would happen at least twice, or maybe even three times previously, but if it eased your own worries than she’d do what she could to help you out, “You want me to run you through the procedure, or the whole of it in general?” she wonders.

“All of it” You whisper, fumbling with the strings of yours– Laura’s hoodie that you had somehow stolen from her but you liked the way that it buried you and made you feel small enough to try and escape the world.

The blonde nods in understanding before she starts to explain it once more, “So in the next hour or so from now, your names’ going to be called and you’ll be taken to the room that you’ll be in before your operation” she pauses for a minute to let you catch up to speed, “You’ll have a hospital gown to change into that they’ll give you when you go into the room along with a pair of them snazzy socks, huh? So you just be able to pull the look off” she jokes with you, trying to keep the conversation light and jokey to avoid you getting any further worried.

“Nobody can pull a look like that off, well other than Leah I suppose” You mumble as you giggle slightly at the comment.

“Well she can pull anything off” Viv chuckles, shaking her head amusedly as she tries to bury her own feelings down to not have you feel any more scared than you need to be.

“Even a bin bag” Beth jokes with you both, “Alright, so your surgery isn’t until 4 o’clock, remember? So you’re going to have to wait a bit, but we’ll be right in the room with you to keep you company, up until the minute you go down” she adds.

You follow along and nod, somehow Beth running through everything again does a little something to settle your bubbling nerves, “What happens after that?” you ask.

“Before you go down to the operating room, there will be an anaesthetist that will come and see you beforehand to discuss the options of anaesthetic before you go down” The blonde tells you, pausing for you to quickly catch up on the last bit of information, “Remember how we spoke about the anaesthetist inserting a cannula into your vein as well? They’ll do that, so they’ll be able to administer any medicine that’s needed during the operation” she tells you.

“Will the cannula hurt?” You start to panic once more, you were vaguely familiar with the fact that a cannula was a sharp needle that would be painful and you absolutely hated needles.

“It will be just like a sharp string, but it’ll be over soon enough” Viv is quick to tell you when she notes the panic in your eyes, they both definitely knew how much you hated anything medically, and they’d definitely experienced their fair share of dealing with your panic attacks when you’ve needed any type of injections in the past, “They’ll give you the anaesthetic that’ll put you to sleep” she adds.

“Will it be a n… needle?” You absolutely hate needles, you’re terrified of them and every single doctor's experience in the past had always been disastrous ever since you were little.

“You won’t feel it initially, kleintje” Viv tells you as she places a gentle hand on your uninjured knee to stop it bouncing anxiously, “You’ll have a cannula in your hand. When you're down in the operating room, the anaesthetist will ask you to count backwards from 10 while they administer it and before you even get to finish, you’ll be completely out of it so they can begin the operation” she explains to you.

You slump your shoulders as you feel slightly more at ease, “Oh, okay then. That… That doesn’t sound too bad then” You mumble, swallowing the lump that forms in your throat, “So the doctors will know what they’re doing?”

“They do, they have done it enough times” Beth says as she lightly chuckles.

“And when I wake up from surgery then Leah and Laura will be here as well, right?” You ask hopeful, after all they’d both told you that they would be and you hoped that they wouldn’t break their promise.

“Yes, they have both promised that they will be here” Beth replies in agreement.

Smiling slightly, you nod in agreement with the blonde, “They can’t break the promise then, can they?” You quietly ask, fumbling with the strings again.

“No they can't, otherwise they’ll face a very unhappy girl after surgery” The blonde jokes, ruffling your hair, which earns a small grumble of protest from you.

“Feel less nervous now?” Viv questions, hopeful that you did feel at ease a little bit.

“A little bit, but I really hate hospitals” You huff in annoyance, shaking your head, “And I really hate stupid knees’ as well” You mumble quietly.

Beth can’t help but snort amusedly, “Don’t we all, kiddo… Don’t we all, hey?” she jokes, still trying to keep the conversation light still.

“Okay, we’re going to take you down now, Y/N” The surgeon tells you once they’ve finished spieling all of the medical jargon, which you didn’t really listen to too much.

When they placed the cannula, you can’t deny that it didn’t hurt. There were a few tears in your eyes, but you consider yourself to be mostly brave in comparison to not freaking out about it.

“O… Okay” You swallow the nervous lump in your throat that had formed, the nerves settling in once again.

Beth takes a gentle hold of your own when she can sense your worries, “Don’t be scared, kiddo. You’re in great hands” she reassures you, or at least tries to do that.

“We’ll be right here waiting for you when you come back” Viv chips in, trying to contain her own fears and worries in favour of yours.

You glance between them wearily, “Y… You promise?” You question in fear, although you know that of course they’ll be sat waiting in the room for you and they wouldn’t let you go through this on your own.

“We promise” Beth replies in agreement.

“We promise, kleintje” Viv adds in.

“Love you both” You tell them, it’s barely louder than a whisper but both women are able to hear it and smile at you fondly.

“We love you too, kleintje” Viv tells you, placing a light kiss on the top of your head.

Beth smiles and swaps places with Viv to be closer to you, “We love you so much, our wonder kid” she tells you, kissing the top of your head again, “We’ll be right here when you come back. We’re not going anywhere” she adds.

The very single second that you left the hospital room with the surgeons, it was like Viv completely fell apart trying to hold it together any longer now you weren’t there, constantly pacing the floor in the hospital room up and down as Beth watched her girlfriend, worriedly.

“Viv, you’re pacing the floor so much. You might put a dent in it” Beth jokes lightly, furrowing her eyebrows as she watches in concern as her girlfriend get worked up

“I know, I can’t help it” Viv admits as she still continues to pace the floor, not pausing to take a breath or speak to her girlfriend,

“I think you might be more nervous than Y/N was before she went down” Beth jokes, trying to keep the mood in the room light.

“I am nervous for Y/N” Viv admits quietly, just loud enough for her girlfriend to be able to hear what she said.

Beths’ facial expression softens in realisation at just how worried Viv actually was about you and your impending surgery, “Why didn’t you tell me?” she asks.

“BecauseI was trying to be strong for Y/N, she was scared enough without seeing me to fall to pieces” Viv explains to the blonde, shaking her head and still continuing to pace the floor, “You’re not worried for her?” she asks.

“Of course, I am nervous for her but I’m trying to be brave for her and put my feelings aside” Beth replies to the Dutch womans’ question, “I know it’s hard to keep it all in though. You know that she’s going to be okay though” she tells her.

Viv exhales a sigh and shakes her head, “I’m trying, but it’s so hard and she’s still so young. None of this is fair, Beth” she mumbles.

“I know, leifje” Beth mumbles in agreement before she exhales a sigh herself.

“This is her first major surgery. You saw how scared she looked before, I just can’t help but be worried right now” Viv states, still pacing the floor continuously.

Beth frowns and moves to step in front of her girlfriend to stop any further pacing, “Viv, leifje. I know you’re worried for her but you know that the surgeons here are good and you know that she’s in safe hands” she does her best to reassure her girlfriends’ own fears.

Viv halts from her continuous pacing and exhales a loud sigh, “I know, and I know that too as well but I still can’t be less worried about her until I see her” she confesses.

“That might still be a while yet though, so how about we just sit down?” The blonde suggests, gesturing to the empty chairs in the room, “This pacing isn’t healthy either” she notes.

“What if something goes wrong?” Viv questions in concern.

“Viv, Y/N/N is going to be fine” Beth still tries to reassure her girlfriend, gently pulling her towards the empty chairs, “She’s going to be so brave” she tells her.

“But what if–” Vivs’ question is cut off.

“Viv, leifje” Beth interjects with a soft smile, “Listen, I know you’re worried but there’s nothing that we can do to control this right now. Y/N is in safe hands with the medical professionals, remember?” she reminds her girlfriend.

“You’re right, I know you are but what if–” Viv starts to speak again.

“Vivianne, all that we can do right now is sit down and wait” Beth cuts in, holding her girlfriends’ hand in her own, “I’m just as worried about her as you are, but all of this pacing the floor isn’t going to help ease your worries nor mine, so please just come and sit down” she tells her girlfriend gently.

“Okay” The Dutch woman nods in agreement and moves to sit down beside her girlfriend.

Beth smiles at the woman and joins her to sit down, “Thank you. Y/N/N is going to be okay, she’s our strong girl” she states, trying to remain positive for the both of them.

“We’re here!” Laura announces, rushing into the hospital room as fast as she could without injuring herself again.

“We made it here, finally. Traffic was a nightmare on the way here” Leah follows the younger girl in, shaking her head, disgruntled by the typical London traffic that made her get stuck in the middle of rush-hour traffic.

“You both made it here, that’s the main thing” Beth breathes a sigh of relief that she’d been holding in for a while, glad that both of them had made it to the hospital before you came back from surgery.

“The room was a little hard to find. Hospitals always confuse me still” Laura mumbles, moving to sit down in an empty seat in your hospital room.

“Baby England still down in surgery?” Leah questions, settling into the seat Laura.

“Yes” Viv exhales a sigh.

“They took her down around 4 pm, so hopefully it won’t be much longer now” Beth hopes as she takes a quick glance at the time on her phone, apprehensive to mention anything about complications in case that would make Viv panic all over again.

“Gotcha” Leah nods in understanding, glancing between the couple, “How’re you both holding up?” she checks in with them.

Beth can’t help but chuckle slightly, “Well I think Viv’s been a lot more nervous about this than I was led to believe, so it seems like I’m just trying to hold it together for the two of us at this point now” she jokes with the blonde, mock-teasing her girlfriends’ need to worry so much.

“Hey, Y/N is like our own kid. You’re just as worried about her as I am!” Viv insists firmly, shaking her head at her blonde girlfriend.

“I am worried, leifje” Beth responds in agreement, taking a gentle hold of her girlfriends’ hand in her own.

Leah chuckles slightly and shakes her head, “The rest of the girls all send their love, they’d be here as well but they didn’t want to crowd her too much. Steph had to pull Kyra back from her trying to get in my car to join us” she adds in, amusedly.

“We can invite them around when Y/N/N is up for visitors” Viv suggests, trying to chat now to distract any more nervous thoughts about you. Beth was right, you were in safe hands and there was nothing that she could do to change what happens in the operating room.

Beth smiles and nods in agreement, “I’m sure she’d like that” she states.

It felt like several more hours had passed before you finally made an appearance in the room, fast asleep still from the general anaesthetic that you’d been given.

“Here she is” Leah cheers quietly as she spots you still asleep as they wheel your bed back into the hospital room.

“Surgery went well?” Viv checks in with the surgeon.

“Surgery went very well” The surgeons beams a wide smile in agreement with the woman.

Given the general post-op run down from the surgeons, they left the room and the ACL crew were now just waiting for you to wake up and come back around from the anaesthetic, which wasn’t too long afterwards thankfully.

“Ah, look whos’ finally woken up” Beth jokes when she sees your eyes prise open, “Hello sleepy head” she adds.

You groan as you come around from the slumper you were previously in, feeling slightly disoriented about things, “Ugh. Where am I?” You mumble, not completely aware of your surroundings yet.

“You’re in hospital, Y/N” Beth chuckles slightly and shakes her head, “Did you bang your head down there, huh? We’re all here for you, just like we said” she motions around the room the 4 familiar faces.

“Mhm, oh yeah. Had knee surgery-- Le, you're here, you came!” You mumble in realisation as you squint your eyes and look round the room, spotting Leah and Laura along with Beth and Viv, who had been strangely quiet still since you’d woken up.

"Ahem, I'm here too, you know?" Laura chips in, amusingly.

"Laur! You're here too!" You exclaim in realisation, excited to see the older girl, "Can I go home now?" You ask, eager to get out of the hospital as you thought you had already been here long enough.

“Whoa easy there, let’s just take it slow, huh? There’s no rush” Beth replies, laughing amusedly as she watches you try and climb out of the hospital bed, still very much under the anaesthetic so you couldn’t feel how much pain you were really in.

You can’t help but pout in disappointment, “My own beds’ more comfier than this one though” you note.

Leah can't help but chuckle amusedly, "Glad to see that you've not lost your sense of humour, baby England" she teases you lightly.

"Le!" You exclaim in glee, so high still from the anaesthetic that you forgot she was here again and you are just so happy to see her again, "You're here!" You add in joy.

"I am. I promised you that I would be here, didn't I?" The blonde defender laughs in amusement at your own expense, "It's nice to see that you're in the land of the living now, eh?" she still continues to tease you.

The second that you lie your eyes on Viv, it only takes a few seconds before the floodgate of tears is opened as you stare at her in shock, before you giggle slightly.

"Seriously, Vivi? You told me to not be worried yet here you are, balling your eyes out" You can't help but laugh hysterically, mostly from the anaesthetic making you feel so loopy, "This whole time you've been so worried yourself!" You add in.

Beth chuckles and shakes her head amusedly, "Oh kiddo, she's been beside herself with worry" she tells you as she gently squeezes you on the shoulder, "Remember now, it's only up from here now on, kid" she tells you.

"It's only up from here now on" You parrot the blonde in agreement, happy enough to be closer to leaving that dreaded hospital.

#woso x reader #arsenal x reader #woso #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso one shot #arsenal women x reader #arsenal wfc x reader #beth mead x reader #vivianne miedema x reader #meadema x reader #leah williamson x reader #laura weinroither x reader #heavy angst

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shawnxstyles · 1 year

Text

rough-up

DATE: DECEMBER 19, 2022

summary: tom overhears you say that he’s never made you come. shocked, he becomes determined to make it happen. he’s even more surprised when he discovers how to do so.

request: yess

words: 4.2k

warnings: SMUT (f- receiving [fingering, slight degrading, slight breast/nipple play], dirty talk, mentions of porn) language, fluff

note: sorry i’ve been inactive. i just had surgery on my knee, so i haven’t had the energy to write. this is unedited and probably bad 😭

(kind of mean) dom!tom

—

After seven long months of keeping the biggest secret ever, you finally decide to tell your best friend about your boyfriend.

Of course, Anna already knows about Tom and that you two have been together for months. You guys even live in a condo together! But she doesn’t know what goes on behind the scenes.

She’s been begging for you to tell her anything about your sexual relationship with Tom. She wants to know every miniscule detail if she can because that’s just how you two are. After every boyfriend she’s had and every guy she’s slept with, she always comes running to you with new drama and information. You guys told each other everything.

So, why was it so hard for you to tell her about Tom in a sexual way?

It didn’t feel wrong, it felt… mean. What you wanted to say wasn’t the most ego-expanding thing for a man. Tom wasn’t cocky or arrogant— he was charming and gentle, which is what made you fall for him. He’s lighthearted and funny, and you couldn’t ask for anyone better. But when you guys had sex for the first time, it was really good, but not completely satisfying for you.

All of Anna’s partners were relatively good, so you guessed it embarrassed you that Tom wasn’t as good. He was your first after all, and first times are never good. So you assumed after so many times you would finally come, but it just never happened.

You knew she wouldn't say anything harsh to you, but you had a feeling she would pity you and that sounds a bit worse.

“So how is your love life going? You seemed pretty thrilled about it over text,” You chirp through the phone to Anna as you wipe the kitchen counter.

Since it was Saturday, you decided to do a bit of cleaning. Tom went out to do some grocery shopping around an hour ago, so you assumed he would be back soon. You loved the days where neither of you worked too late and you could relax together before the day ended. This was one of those weekends.

Anna rants about her new friend with benefits while you discard your wipe and go to grab your duster in the laundry room. You put your phone between your ear and shoulder as you reach up in an attempt to grab it. You sigh to yourself, climbing on top of the washing machine. When she’s finished, she takes a deep breath.

“Enough about my life, how’s Tom? I don’t care. Have you guys had sex yet?? PLEASE DON’T TELL ME YOU’RE WAITING FOR MARRIAGE!” Anna talks quickly, yelling through your speaker. You always have to set your phone aside for a minute when she shouts like that. You roll your eyes, even though you know she can’t see you. “And don’t roll your eyes!”

“Look,” You take a breath as you think about how you’re going to say it. You stop reaching for the duster and stay seated on the machine for a moment. You put your phone down and on speaker. “Tom and I have had sex, okay–”

“OH MY GOD, I totally knew it! I was just waiting for you to tell me. I have so many questions. How long? How many times? Did it feel amazing?!–”

Tom shoves his keys into the lock and opens the front door. He picks up his few bags of groceries and lightly kicks back the door. He heads straight for the kitchen and places the bags on the counter. Before unbagging all the items, he goes to announce that he’s back, but is alerted by your sudden yell. Tom is naturally attracted to the sound, so he hurriedly makes his way over to you.

“Anna!” You shout, shutting her up. If you were a pushover, she would never stop talking. Ever. “It’s… fine.”

Fine? What was fine?

Tom stops and thinks, overhearing you. He didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but now he’s curious. Clearly you weren’t in trouble, so he’ll just pretend like he’s not here yet.

“Fine? Fine is a word you use to describe a pen, not sex. Sex shouldn’t be fine,” She replies in disgust and you try not to laugh at how dramatic she is. You keep your eyes fixated on the cabinet, forgetting about the duster.

“It’s… it’s good. I mean everything feels right. I get aroused, so it’s not like I don’t like it. It feels fantastic. Just… you know at the end when you’re supposed to feel amazing?” You try your best to explain your situation to her and you can hear the cogs spinning in her curious head. “Well, I didn’t feel that.”

Is… she talking about sex? She doesn’t hate it, but it wasn’t good?

Tom’s eyebrows furrow in immediate confusion as he leans against the wall near the laundry room. He crosses his arms, continuing to eavesdrop.

“So, you didn’t feel amazing, even though it was amazing. But did you come?” Anna asks, not caring if her question is too explicit or personal. She wasn’t afraid to ask or say anything and that’s what made your friendship so real.

“Um… I don’t think so? It’s different when you’re with somebody than by yourself. How do you know?” You cringe at your unsureness, a hand lifting to rub over your temple as you close your eyes for a moment.

“If you did, you would know. So you’ve never had the experience of coming before. Okay, woah,” Anna says, shock lacing her tone. She sounds almost speechless, and that is something you thought you’d never hear.

“Well, no, I’ve masturbated before and I’ve come. I think. So I have experienced it, just not with Tom,” As you come to a conclusion. It was a lot simpler now that you’ve explained it to Anna. “What do I do?”

She’s never come? That’s… fuck. Horrible.

Tom quietly creeps into the kitchen, making sure you don’t see or hear him. As he unloads some groceries, he wonders what he should do. Does he ask you? If he does then you would know he was listening to you and invading your phone call. So, he mentally settles for searching it up in his down time. For now, he is going to have to resist you as much as possible until he is confident enough.

He hates knowing you aren’t completely satisfied, and that he isn’t giving you everything you want when that’s all you deserve.

“On a scale of one to 10, how much do you like him? Because you could–”

“Anna, I’m not breaking up with him! I love him. So much. I just… don’t know how to bring it up,” You bite your lip and sigh. You extend yourself from a kneeling position and reach up toward the duster. You grab it while Anna contemplates. For once, the line is silent.

“You know I hate beating around the bush, so you might as well just get to the damn point. “Hey, person that I love so much, remember all those times we had sex? Well, I never came, so get your shit fixed!” Something like that should work.”

You roll your eyes as she mocks you and creates new ways to confess to Tom. After too many minutes, you hang up the phone and tell her you’d call her another time. You hop off the machine and waltz into the kitchen. Your eyes light up when they notice Tom, nearly finished unpacking the groceries.

“Oh, hey, baby, I didn’t even hear you come in,” You smile after kissing him softly on the cheek. Tom melts every time you even look at him, so your kisses practically kill him. He smiles in return before sliding some cereal into the top cabinet. “I know it’s still early, but what are we thinking for dinner?”

—

After a nice, relaxing dinner you both mustered up, Tom admits that he’s feeling a bit tired. You were a bit disappointed because you wanted to cuddle and watch your show. Ever since your talk with Anna, Tom has been on your mind all day. Even if you don’t come with him, you still love the feeling of him. He gets you to the edge every time, you just never get all the way. You love the feeling of his fingers on your skin and how full his cock makes you feel, you wished that you would meet the finish line just once.

“‘m sorry. We can cuddle in bed. You can be the small spoon,” Tom suggests and you can’t help but giggle. He knows you love being the small spoon, but secretly so does Tom. You find it adorable that your big, muscular boyfriend likes to be cuddled. It makes your heart flutter.

Tom didn’t want you to know he was avoiding sex, but it was for a good reason. He was determined to get better, to be better for you. He is honestly disappointed in himself that he didn’t realize this earlier.

As you guys complete your nightly routines together, you huddle under the thick comforter. With a full stomach, the heaviness of the blanket, and the warmth of Tom’s skin, you were destined to pass out like a sleepy baby. Once Tom was sure you were asleep, he slowly untangled himself from your gentle frame and tiptoes to the bathroom. You were a pretty deep sleeper; if there was a fire, you would burn alive.

Tom quickly searches up Pornhub in a private search, analyzing all the videos. He hasn’t seen porn by himself for a long time. He didn’t need to. He had the most beautiful woman in his bed every night. And he was about to ruin it because he couldn’t satisfy her. This motivated him to continue his research.

The erotic images and clips of women spread wide open didn’t appease him like it used to. He scrolls and finally clicks on a video of a man fingering a woman. Simple. He connected his Airpods, making sure you wouldn’t hear him.

Tom skimmed through multiple videos, paying close attention to how and when the men curled their fingers. He took note of how they teased the slits, and massaged the clit a lot throughout each orgasm. Tom assumed he did all of these, pretty well in his opinion. The few people that he’d been with in the past never had any issues with him because they’d always come back when they didn’t have to.

So why couldn’t you come?

Finally, after watching about fifteen videos, Tom noticed the particular pace. Tom was always gentle and soft when you two were intimate because he never wanted to hurt you. He’s had rough sex in the past, during one-night-stands, but he never would have thought that’s something you enjoyed. During those selfish nights, he didn’t care what the other woman liked.

Yeah, Tom used to be pretty selfish before you.

He would never do anything you didn’t ask him to do. Maybe you were too scared or embarrassed to mention it and that’s why you told Anna, not him.

Focusing a bit more, he feels a wave of confidence flow through him. He watches a few more, concentrating on the speed.

“You like it rough, don’t you? Dirty slut.”

The video talks in his ear, but he ignores it while he watches all his movements.

Tom’s going to have some fun with you.

—

A pleasant scent interrupts your sleep, waking you up gently. You take a deep breath, inhaling the heavenly smell. You hurriedly brush your teeth before following the smell, leading you to the kitchen.

You witness Tom’s sculpted back facing you as he cooks breakfast. Specifically pancakes, which were your all-time favorite. You always slept deeply, and there were few things that would wake you up. One, pancakes. Two, Tom’s mouth. Blaring alarms weren’t even worth it.

As you creep into the kitchen, you ogle Tom’s muscles. His build is so perfect, sometimes you don’t believe it. His shoulder blades are wide and strong while thick layers of muscle coat his arms. He’s wearing gray drawstring shorts, and the overall sight leaves you drooling.

You were still a bit horny from yesterday. Now, that familiar warm feeling tingles in your tummy as you wrap your arms around your boyfriend’s waist. Your cheek presses against his toned back.

“Morning, gorgeous,” Tom roughly hums, flipping the pancake easily. You'll never get over his morning voice and how his gravelly tone never fails to turn you on. You hear the click of the stove as Tom shifts to the counter. You release your hold as you go across the kitchen to grab some coffee.

“Morning! What motivated you to make pancakes?” You ask, pouring the hot coffee that has already been brewed.

“Well, I woke up early and I thought I’d do something nice for my girlfriend. Is that so wrong?” He fixes two plates and sets the pan away. He cleans up his mess and then you both sit on the counter stools. You withhold a huge smile, while your heart pounds lovingly. It was such a tiny thing he did, but he always made your heart flutter. That warm feeling covers your lower stomach again.

“You’re too sweet,” You kiss his cheek as you guys continue to eat. Tom knew you saw him as a softie, especially for him. But he wanted you to know that he can be rough, too. After his conclusion from last night, you needed it. “Nothing but.”

“I can be mean,” He adds, finishing his plate.

“Pff, you don’t have a mean bone in your body,” You joke, chewing your warm pancake. “I bet you can’t even be mean for a day.”

“Says who?”

“Says anyone who’s ever known you?” You quirk like it was the most obvious thing in the world. Tom was way too nice. He was incapable of being mean to anyone, ever. That’s what made you fall for him. Once in a while, you guys would banter jokingly, which you enjoyed. But you loved Tom for who he was.

“Fine. I’ll show you mean,” Tom rose from his stool and headed toward the kitchen sink to discard his plate. You rolled your eyes with a bit of a chuckle.

His plan was working perfectly.

He was going to make you upset. Angry. And then when you didn’t expect it, he would fuck you. So hard, and you would come so many times, you would never have to complain to Anna again. He felt… evil. But he was excited.

—

Tom wasn’t lying.

You really thought he was. You didn’t think he could be so careless. You two always do laundry on Sundays, but he made you do it alone. When you asked him what he wanted for dinner, he said he didn’t care. All of these things annoyed you, but what irritated you the most was when he denied giving you kisses.

Tom had looked so good all day. You were practically dripping in your shorts from lack of attention. Your blood boiled at his arrogance, but also intensified that burning feeling in your tummy. You wanted him so badly. Even if you didn’t come, you just needed to feel him.

He crossed the line, so you put your foot down.

“Tom, what the fuck?” You stood directly in front of his view of the TV, smoke coming from your ears. You’ve never been this upset at him before, but your hormones were aiding your fury.

“What?” Tom asks simply, innocently like he hasn’t been a complete jerk all day.

“What? That’s all you have to say?” Your eye twitches and you huff a breath. “You’re being a dick! What is wrong with you?”

“You said I couldn’t be mean. Isn’t this what you wanted?” He tilts his head condescendingly. His puppy dog eyes don’t fool you, while your hands ball up into little fists. He tries to look around you, eyeing the TV to avoid looking at you. You reach over and rip the controller from his hands, shutting the screen off. “Hey, I was watching that!”

Impulsively, you start punching his arms and torso. Tom did weekly boxing lessons, so your puny punches might as well have been kisses. Tom attempts to hold back a smile at your anger, surprisingly enjoying it. After a few seconds, Tom grabs your wrists in an instant. He hovers over you, pinning your arms above your head on the couch.

You breathe heavily from punching him, chest heaving up and down. Although you were beyond pissed at his demeanor, you felt yourself getting wetter. His thigh slightly spreads your legs and you wouldn’t be shocked if you had a visible wet spot from how aroused you’ve been all day.

“Feisty. What’s really got you worked up? Hm?” Tom provokes, a small metal chain dangling right above your face. He shoves his thigh roughly between your legs, causing you to gasp.

“You! Y-you have been making me mad all day! You’re being a dick!” You shout, nearly straining your neck, while he smirks at your mercy. Instinctively, your hips grind on his clothed thigh and you moan, finally getting some attention down there.

“Oh, so you just wanted my attention?” He tsks, moving one of his hands down your body. The other stays trapping your wrists over your head. His hand lifts the small band of your shorts and you inhale impatiently. He lowers his head toward your ear. “I bet you’re fucking soaking under here.”

You whimper at his words, waiting for him to just yank them down. Reading your mind, he does just that. He pulls both your shorts and panties down, revealing your soaked cunt. Your skin is on fire, but your wetness causes goosebumps along your arms. His free hand immediately goes to your slits, spreading your arousal messily around. Your breathing gets heavier, anticipating his thick fingers.

“What do you want?” Tom asks, so demanding you don’t even know if it’s Tom anymore. You’re not used to this side of him yet, but your body was loving it. His voice got deeper, and each word came out as a growl. He was almost animalistic, which was completely different from the soft, cuddly Tom who made love to you.

This Tom– wanted to fuck you.

“Your fingers! Please,” You beg, becoming desperate for anything. He smirks, obeying your pleas. He sinks his middle finger into your cunt, ripping a needy moan from you. You push your head into the couch cushion, hips grinding hard against his hand. He traps his knees on your thighs, halting your movements.

“Don’t be greedy,” He growls.

You whine, frustrated because he’s teasing you. Tom never really teases you. He does it subconsciously like when he walks around the house without a shirt on. But in bed? Tom was sweet and gentle, and always gave you what you wanted. But this Tom– he made you work for it. Beg for it.

And you loved it.

His finger curls slowly inside of you, skimming that special spot inside of you. His rugged thumb massages your clit too softly. Without warning, he adds a second finger and you moan out. Your back arches off the cushions, your body desperate for more friction. You hoped you would come this time.

Tom was about to stop. He didn’t want to hurt you. Maybe you didn’t really want this and it was all in Tom’s head. Just before he was about to drop everything– you begged him to keep going. Fuck. His cock pulsed desperately in his cloth shorts.

“More, more, please,” You plead in hopes he’ll give in, but you don’t know how easily he will. Your eyes are screwed shut in pleasure, but you can’t quite reach it. You’re not surprised because you never can anyway. But what does surprise you is when he speeds up his pace. He never goes too rough or too fast. Your heart beats rapidly in your chest as his fingers thrust in and out at a sinful speed. You gasp loudly, fingernails digging into your palms.

“Keep your hands there,” He demands, releasing his tight grip and bringing his hand down to continue to rub your clit. You obey, holding your own wrists. His fingers twist deliciously, and poke your G spot, causing you to scream his name. His other hand rubs your clit dangerously quick, flicking the sensitive nub as well.

You were overwhelmed with the amount of pleasure he was giving you. It was different from everything you’ve experienced with Tom. You were floating in a haze of lust and you never wanted to leave. He gropes your breasts harshly, flicking your pebbled nipples. The rough pads of his fingers tickled your silky walls so perfectly, you nearly passed out from the feeling.

“Are you going to come for me? Huh? Since you never have?” Tom taunts, as you clench around his thick fingers. You gasp, holding your breath.

How did he know?

“H-how did–”

“I heard you talking to Anna. If all you needed was a bit of a rough-up, why didn’t you just say so, love?” His voice was gritty and his actions were harsh, contradicting the sweet nickname. Your head was spinning and your heart was thumping swiftly against your ribcage.

So, so stupid. Of course he heard you.

Tom may be soft, but he wasn’t naïve.

“I thought you wanted slow and passionate, but no. You’re a filthy slut, aren’t you?” Tom degrades, eliciting a whine from your throat. He pinches your nipples through your thin T-shirt, the sensitive nubs causing you to hiss at the pain and pleasure. “Answer me.”

“Yes, yes I am!” Behind your closed eyelids, you see stars. Your muscles tighten and breathing increases rapidly. Your palms were probably bleeding from your nails, begging to pull on his silky, brown hair and kiss him passionately. Sex or masturbating has never felt like this before.

His pace never slows down, and your arousal continues to drench his hand. His attack on your clit is nearly torturous, but God, did you crave more.

Suddenly, when your stomach squeezed tightly and your legs tensed, your orgasm was in sight. You tried to close them, but Tom wouldn’t let you. A burning sensation exploded in your core, all your moans getting lost in the process. It was unfamiliar and overwhelming, and it made you wonder if this was your first orgasm ever.

Tom watches as you wither away with your orgasm, a nosy moan echoing throughout the living room. Your white liquid slowly coats his digits as he finally begins to decelerate his speed. He rubs your clit thoroughly, causing your body to jerk from the overstimulation.

“Oh my God,” Your chest heaves and your body rests limp on the couch. Tom immediately licks his fingers, tasting all of your juices. He peels off his tank top and wipes you down. He crawls back over you and absorbs your weary expression.

“You did so good, baby. Did you like it? Or was it too much?” Tom questions softly, caressing your face. He places a delicate kiss on your cheeks, waiting for a response. If he hurt you, he would never forgive himself.

“Tom,” You try to catch your breath. “That was incredible.”

He smiles, finally kissing you on the lips for the first time all day. He assumes now is the best time to ask the question of why.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t paying closer attention to you. But why didn’t you tell me first?” Tom slightly furrows his eyebrows, while you both sit up. You didn’t bother putting your underwear or shorts back on, since they were soaked through.

“I didn’t want you to feel bad. Or think you weren’t making me feel good because you were! I just… I didn’t know how to bring it up. I didn’t want you to feel uncomfortable,” You answer honestly, Tom listening and comprehending. He rests his arm over the couch while his hand fiddles with your hair. “I guess I have never really come before. I also didn’t know that’s what I needed…”

Tom laughs and you join in, slightly embarrassed. “Everyone has a secret, love. Yours is that you’re sweet as pie to the public, but a freak in the sheets for me.”

“Tom!” You gasp, swatting at his bare chest. He laughs again, catching your wrist. He moves it to the side and leans in for a kiss. You don’t deny him and attach your lips together, melting into his touch. You swear you tasted yourself on his lips, but it only made you smile more. “Doesn’t that make you a freak, too?”

“I guess. But I’m a man. Men are dirty. I didn’t know you were so dirty, Y/N,” He teases with a smile and you roll your eyes. You deflect his words, but even the teasing turned you on a bit. You cross your arms, acting annoyed. “And I thought you were so innocent–”

“Oh, shut up!” You groan while smiling, throwing your head on the back of the couch. He chuckles because he loves riling you up a bit. Now that the air was cleared, you secretly wanted more. Even though you just came for the first time with him and you should be exhausted, you felt the opposite. You felt energized. You wanted to go again and again until you fell asleep under him.

Maybe you were a bit of a freak…

If his fingers felt that good, you couldn’t imagine what his cock would feel like while he’s ramming into you harshly. You imagined him sinking deep into you and fucking you into oblivion with his dangerously quick pace. You nearly drooled at the thought. You swiftly stood up, going toward the bedroom.

Okay, you were a freak.

“Where are you going? Sleeping already?” Tom shouts as you slowly continue to back pedal away. He peers at you over his shoulder with furrowed eyebrows and a small smile.

“Sleeping is the last thing I want to do right now,” You wink and head straight for the bedroom. Tom raises his eyebrows and immediately launches himself off the couch to follow you, understanding your innuendo quickly.

“Yes ma’am,” He whispers to himself as he closes the bedroom door with a giant smirk on his face.

—

hopefully you like 🫠

#shawnxstyles #tom holland #tom holland fan fiction #tom holland fics #tom holland fic #tom holland fanfic #tom holland smut #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland recs #smut

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augustvandyne · 3 months

Note

not a request necessarily i just love talking about addison

imagine if youre really unwell during a shift and addison finds out and goes to see you. when she gets there her heart aches. you’re her best fellow and also…

smaller little imagine

i’m here

Addison hadn’t seen you for a few hours. Ever since your surgery a while ago, she hasn’t seen you roaming the halls. She imagined you were just tired, as the two of you didn’t get much sleep last night after another surgery, which took all night.

And truth be told, after any surgery you usually crash for an hour or two - even just after a routine procedure. But she was getting worried now because it’s nearing five hours and you still haven’t reappeared.

Not to mention you missed breakfast with her, and from the people she’s spoken with, you haven’t left the on-call room you entered earlier.

Izzie offered to show her to the on-call room she spotted you entering earlier today. She stops in front of the door, “She should be in there.”

“Thank you, Dr. Stevens. I owe you,” Addison presses her lips together in a tight and anxious smile.

“It’s no problem, really,” Izzie nods vigorously. “I am just as worried about her as you are.”

Addison takes a deep breath and tries to reassure herself that nothing is wrong with you, but is unable to calm her nerves. The only person who is able to do that these days is you.

She furrows her eyes and prays you’re just sleeping as she opens the door with a creak. On the other side of the door is you laying in a fetal position on the bed. She tilts her head trying to figure out what’s wrong with you, and it comes to her when you let out a strangled cough.

Addison moves to sit on the end of the bed, her gentle hand coming to soothingly rub your shoulder.

“Mm,” You roll over towards her, your face coming to smoosh itself into her side. “I’m tired, Addie.”

“I see,” Addison nodded and ran her hand through your hair. It was damp with sweat and her suspicions came true when she turned her hand over to put on your forehead. “I think you’re sick, darling.”

“No,” You shake your head. “I can’t be. We have surgeries to get to. What time is it?”

“Uh..” Addison looks at her phone, seeing it’s about ten in the morning. “Five hours?”

“What?!” You try to sit up, but you begin to get dizzy so you have to lay back down.

“It’s okay, I promise,” Addison’s hands make their way back to your scalp.

“Just give me a few minutes,” One of your hands makes it to Addison’s thigh, and her other hand comes down to hold yours.

“No, you need to rest,” She squeezes your hand reassuringly.

You groan.

“Why didn’t you tell me you weren’t feeling good?” Addison frowns down at you. “I would have let you sit a surgery out.”

“Because I felt much better earlier,” You promised. “My throat was a little sore, but now I feel like death. I don’t know if I can stand without passing out.”

“Well it’s a great thing you’re surrounded by doctors, now, isn’t it?” Addison moves a piece of your hair and tucks it behind your ear. “How about you just rest for a few more hours and we’ll reevaluate after.”

Addison moves to get up, but you attempt to pull her back, and she looks at you with her eyebrows raised.

“Please stay,” You cry softly. “Your skin is cold and I’m hot.”

“Okay,” Addison gives in, sliding under the covers beside you. “I’ll cancel my surgeries for the next few hours, okay? We’ll push them back.”

You lay your head on Addison’s chest so you can feel her heart beating - there’s a weird comfort to it - and her arms wrap around your shoulders to hold you against her.

“Wait we have that big surgery later—“ You try to sit up again, but Addison pulls you back to her chest.

“I don’t care,” Addison says. “If you need me here, I’m here.”

“Okay,” Your hand finds a sliver of skin that is exposed from her scrub top lifting, and it rests there.

Addison swallows nervously, trying to ignore how good your hand feels on hers as she pulls her phone out to text Callie to let her know to cancel all her surgeries.

Because her heart ached for you, and if you wanted or needed her, she would be there in a heartbeat.

#greys anatomy imagine #greys abc #greys anatomy #greys anatomy x reader #addison montgomery x y/n #addie is cutesie #addison montgomery x reader #addison montgomery imagine #addison montgomery x you #addison montgomery #wlw post

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peachesofteal · 1 year

Text

First Sight / Chapter 2

Chapter 2 of 2. Part five of the Sassy series. First chapter here.

Simon Riley/female reader - soft dad Simon Riley 4k words - AO3 Warnings-tags: 18+ Minors DNI, PTSD, PPD, mentions of blood and violence, reader is a new mom, tenderness, fluff, complicated feelings, mentions of Percocet (no addiction or abuse), feelings of fear and anxiety, emotional hurt/comfort. Simon is here. Theo is here. There is nothing to fear.

The house is quiet. Practically silent, except for the ebb and flow of Simon snoring, the broad expanse of his chest combined with the crook of his elbow making a very comfortable sleeping spot for Theo apparently. It’s like white noise, you guess. You've heard of babies being lulled to sleep by the sound of the ocean, or rain, or even a vacuum cleaner, but you didn’t have to resort to any of those, the crackle coming from Simon’s nose more than enough.

Which is great, because you’re exhausted. Or at least, you think you are. It’s hard to tell right now. Your abdomen is still sore, giant incision finally starting to close after six long weeks, and your brain never turns off, the darkness pulling at the edge your mind dragging you through hell almost every day, the bright spots few and infrequent. You feel haunted. You feel like a husk.

Ten fingers, ten toes, ten pounds. You stare at Theo in awe, his little face perfectly serene while he sleeps in your arms, and you lower your own to the crown of his head, skimming your nose across his tiny tuft of hair. You hold him close, pointer finger tracing as lightly as possible across the apple of his cheek, back and forth. It’s hard to believe he’s even real. Or that he’s here. That the two of you made it through, and that he now has a birthday, a name, ten fingers, and ten toes.

This, whatever it is, is the strongest concentration of love you’ve ever felt in your life, that you’re sure of. Things that mattered before, don’t anymore. Things you were worried about in the past, don’t exist. The only thing that’s real is this baby in your arms, your baby, Simon’s baby, and you blink rapidly to hold back tears at the realization.

“What do you think, mom? You ready for some pain relief so you can get some sleep?” The nurse asks, and Simon nods but doesn’t speak. You know he wants you to get some painkillers, that he’s having a hard time watching you wince and bite your lip to the point where you draw blood, but he also wouldn’t dare speak for you, even though you’re sure he wants to take over, take charge and make sure you get what you need.

You did just have major surgery, and the other drugs have worn off, leaving you with searing pain in your stomach and cramps in your legs.

But the idea of taking a Percocet makes you nervous, lights some uneasy fire in the back of your mind, and irrational but completely real fear buzzes in your nervous system. If you’re drugged, you’ll be loopy, and it makes you want to say no. The amount of pain your body is in fights against the resistance, and you glance at Simon hesitantly. Like he’s reading your mind, he reaches out to place a gentle hand on your thigh.

“Nothing is going to happen if you take a pain pill. I promise.” He says encouragingly and you relent with a sigh.

“Okay, yeah.”

“Sass?” It’s Simon, standing in the doorway, Theo in the sling that is his giant forearm. He sits comfortably there, perfectly snuggled against his dad, and it makes your heart clench. Simon is looking at you warily, like he doesn’t recognize you. Which is fair. You don’t even recognize yourself. “What’re you doin’ out here?” Where? You blink, processing the question. Here? Your toes wiggle, in grass, and you look around. Why are you in the backyard? At night?

“Oh. I don’t know.” He’s holding his hand out to you, large fingers reaching for yours.

“Come inside.” He presses his thumb to your wrist, eyes closing before speaking again. “I think you should call the shrink.”

“No.”

“Sass. There’s nothing wrong with it, if you need to talk to someone.” You laugh weakly.

“That’s rich, coming from you.” You spit, tone edged in an eagerness to fight, and he tenses. Fuck. “I’m sorry.” Your shoulders slump. Stop being such a bitch. He’s doing practically everything for you right now. “I’m sorry. Really. I’m just… out of it.” You step closer, leaning your forehead into his chest, blinking down at the wriggling baby in his arm. Your son. You feel Simon’s nose in your hair, and then a heavy palm rests at the small of your back.

He inhales deeply.

“I know.”

Ten fingers, ten toes, ten pounds. You repeat it over and over for assurance, even though your son is sleeping comfortably in your arms, safe and healthy. Ten fingers, ten toes, ten pounds. It’s hard to believe you’re a mom now, someone who has a tiny, defenseless little human depending on you for everything.

Well, not just you.

You eye Simon, asleep in the chair less than a foot from the bed, head tilted back, mouth open. There’s a large white spot of baby vomit on the front of his black sweatshirt, and he’s sporting some serious undereye circles from being up with Theo as much as possible. He doesn’t let you lift a finger, which is fine considering you can’t even really get out of the bed without help, your giant incision still wrapped up and body still exhausted from surgery, two days later.

On top of everything, something felt off. There was this feeling, a dark, lonely thing pulling at your limbs, trying to wring you out over and over, dragging you down into the dark of the deepest waters. You were frightened of it, the cycle of thoughts spiraling through your mind every time you closed your eyes, the inky blackness of dark feelings overtaking you from every direction. Were you going to be a good mom? Would you be able to take care of Theo? What if Simon wasn’t here? What if something bad happens? What if you die? What if Theo doesn’t love you? What if Simon leaves? What if you don’t like your own baby? What if you can’t bond with him? What if you suck at this?

Theo gurgles, a small noise, and you try to shift to alleviate some of the pressure on your back. Pain zings through you, the sting of your muscles seizing, and you gasp, loud enough that Simon is jerking awake, eyes scanning the room until they land on you and your hopeless form.

“Need help?” You nod miserably, and he lifts Theo away from your body while you try to get situated. You watch him rock the baby easily, settling into a natural rhythm like it’s nothing, and try not to feel irritated. He’s a natural. How is possible that Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley is so good at this and you’re a failure? Tears prick along your waterline, and you slam your eyes shut, but not before one escapes down your cheek. “Hey, what is it? What’s wrong?” A big, warm hand envelopes yours, and your emotions surge inside of you, sadness and love and anxiety swirling in your heart until you’re sniffling.

“I’m sorry.” You sob and he looks stricken.

“Sorry for what?”

“For being such a mess.”

“You just had a baby, Sass. And you have a huge wound in your stomach. You’re gonna be a mess for a bit.”

“Yeah, b-but I can’t even take care of my… my own baby,” The words are slurred, pieced together through tears, and you try to catch your breath. He folds his hand around the back of your neck and leans forward, bringing Theo between your two bodies while your face nestles into him. “and you’re being so nice to me.” You cry aloud.

“Shhh. It’s alright, sweet girl. You’re okay.” TWO babies. There are two babies in this stupid hospital room. You take a deep breath through your nose while Simon rubs your back, Theo blinking up at the two of you silently. “Did you get any sleep this morning?”

“N- no.” He sighs as he pulls away, lips dragging across your temple gently and then up to your forehead to press a kiss there, soft and slow, lingering as long as he can.

“I think you should try to get some sleep,” you shrug and wipe your eyes. “I’ll turn out the lights.”

“Wait.” Your hand shoots out to latch onto his in a panic. “Si. I- don’t go anywhere. Please?”

“We’ll both be right here.” He assures you, folding your hand back into your lap with a squeeze before moving to flick the light off. “We’re right here, okay? Close your eyes.” He slides the reclining chair another half a foot closer to the bed, easing down into it with Theo secure in one arm, holding your hand with the other. He traces a thumb over the skin of your knuckles, and your eyes slip closed.

You’re home. You’re not in danger. Simon is here. Theo is here. There is nothing to fear. You stare at your reflection in the mirror, the straggly ends of your hair, the rise and fall of your chest beneath Simon’s t shirt. You’re home. You’re not in danger. Simon is here. Theo is here. There is nothing to fear. Your head is pounding, a headache ripping across the front of your brain, your stomach churning like you’re going to vomit up the breakfast you ate this morning. Your legs feel weak, or maybe it’s your body that feels heavy, but either way, you can hardly stand, leaning against the bathroom countertop for support. You focus on your breath, in and out, counting inhales and exhales, but there’s a buzzing sound in your ear, and the room suddenly feels dark, like your vision is cloudy.

When you close your eyes, you see a teenager walking towards you, a bomb wired to the vest he’s wearing.

You see Soap’s blood on your palms, you feel it slicking your skin up your forearms, you hear his grunts of pain as you pack his wound.

You see Simon outside the tent after you left, staring up at the helicopter as it took you away. You remember the unadulterated rage that coursed through your veins, the overwhelming feeling of anger that consumed your entire existence.

You see the faces of the first infantry troop you deployed with in the desert. The fresh-faced lieutenant, begging you to make sure his wife and kids get his death benefits while he dies in front of you, torso blown open, organs shredded by bullets. The private, from Louisiana, whose parents were long dead, but he told you about how sweet his baby sister was while the two of waited for a field medic that would be way too late.

You see your dad, the last time you ever saw his face, putting you on a plane to a country you knew nothing about while you screamed, your mother crying in his arms. The silver of the cross around his neck glinting in the afternoon sun.

You’re home. You’re not in danger. Simon is here. Theo is here. There is nothing to fear.

There’s a knock on the door and you snap to attention.

“Sass?” You fix your face in the mirror as well as you can before answering.

“Yeah, coming.”

It’s the familiar ring of a facetime call that wakes you, your head foggy with the cotton of deep sleep. You squint at the caller ID, Johnny’s name popping up across the screen accompanied by the soap emoji.

“Hi.” You answer, voice still a little groggy. Simon is already lifting Theo from the bassinet, depositing him on your chest gently, and giving your shoulder a squeeze before he slumps back in the chair.

“Sassafras, look at ‘im.” Theo’s just visible in the screen, and Johnny is grinning, hand partially covering his face because his eyes are suspiciously wet. “You did a grand job lass.” You smile at him in thanks, and Simon grunts from the chair right next to the bed. “Where’s the big guy?”

“He's here.” You angle the camera, and Simon cracks a small smile under the mask.

“Hey Johnny.”

“Ghost! Yer a lucky man, LT.” Simon looks to you, something soft shining in his eyes before it disappears.

“Yeah.” He reaches over, hand laying gently over top yours where it rests on Theo's back.

“He’s ready to meet Uncle Soap, whenever you get leave next. Feel free to come over this way.” You chime. “We, uh actually wanted to talk to you about being his godfather...”

“No, we don’t.” Simon barks but you shake your head, moving the camera back to you.

“Yes, we do. Ignore him. It was his idea, Johnny.” You shoot him a look.

“Ah you two, I’m honored.” There’s a noise in the background, something loud, and Johnny looks away quickly, before returning to the screen. “Gotta run. Miss ya Sassy, and the grumpy bastard.”

“Bye, Soap. Be safe, stay frosty.” Theo cries just as Johnny hangs up, and you pat his back slowly, murmuring above his ear.

“What is it?” You soothe. “Hungry?” You bounce him slightly, all you can do from the bed, before looking up at Simon imploringly. “Si…”

“C’mere” He pulls the baby from your arms, tilting him onto his back at a good angle for the bottle, before settling down next to you on the bed. “Like a champ.” He says proudly, and you can’t help the grin that tugs at your lips.

“He’s got a good appetite.” You push your finger into his tiny fist, and he grabs onto it reflexively. “Like his dad I guess.” You tease and Simon smirks, leaning down to plant a kiss across your cheek.

Theo is screaming on the monitor. Both of you jolt awake, and Simon is out of bed before you can even say anything, hall light flicking on and floorboards creaking under his feet.

You glance at the clock. 3:32 AM. Well, at least he made it three hours. There’s a beeping sound inside your ear, and you cringe, shaking it away as you fully wake. Anxiety immediately blooms in your mind, and you take deep breaths to calm your heart. You’re home. You’re not in danger. Simon is here. Theo is here. There is nothing to fear. You sit up slowly, shifting your hips until you’re fully upright, and Simon comes back.

“Hungry, I think.” He’s got Theo against his chest, blanket over his shoulder. His hair is all a mess, like the baby’s, and the sight of them together nearly makes you start crying. Your boys.

“Here.” You clear your throat. “I’ll take him, you grab the bottle?” He rubs his face sleepily and you rock Theo, trying to get his cries to calm down while you wait for the formula. “Shhh.” You make the hushing noise near his ear, to no avail.

The song comes easily. It’s not a lullaby, and you’re a shit singer, but since he was born, singing works better than humming, though you’re not sure why. You rock him in time with the beat you’re conjuring in your head, closing your eyes and imagining your voice is not terribly off key.

“I am not the only traveler, who has not repaid his debt. I’ve been searching for a trail to follow, again. Take me back to the night we met.” Theo cries, but more softly, a little hiccup shaking his chest. “And then I can tell myself, what the hell I’m supposed to do. And then I can tell myself, not to ride along with you.” You press a kiss to his forehead, stroking across the baby soft skin of his cheek. “I had all and then most of you, some and now none of you. Take me back to the night we met.” He’s gone silent, just looking up at you with big wide eyes now, and you smile down at him in the dim light of your bedside lamp. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to do, haunted by the ghost you. Take me back to the night we met.”

When you look up, Simon’s standing in the doorway again, bottle in one hand, burp cloth in the other, frozen to the spot, staring at you.

“Hey.” He startles, like he was off somewhere else, and takes big strides until he’s sitting at your side, handing the bottle over. “Thanks.”

“Y-yeah.” He stutters, and you frown.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, yeah. Just tired.”

“I can put him back in the crib, if you want to lay down.” You gesture to his side of your bed, but he shakes his head.

“No, no. ’s fine.”

“You sure?” Theo sucks the bottle down with ease, and you prop him on your shoulder over the burp cloth. Simon leans forward, and presses his lips to your brow, hand resting on Theo’s back. He holds himself there, for a second, then two, and three, until he pulls away to touch his forehead to yours.

“I’m sure.”

The woman says your name, nodding at you from where she sits to the left of your bed.

“I’m Dr. Moreno. I’m a resident psychologist here, but I also do work for the VA.” You fight the urge to tell her to get the fuck out and choose to smile politely instead. “I understand you have some concerns about postpartum depression.”

“Yeah.” Suddenly, you wished you hadn’t been so painfully honest on the questionnaire your OB gave you.

“Are you currently receiving any treatment for your PTSD?”

“No.”

“Are you interested in receiving treatment for PTSD?”

“Not really, I’ve done therapy before.” She nods thoughtfully.

“Did your doctor go over everything with you about C-section recovery?”

“Yeah, she did.” Somewhere, in the very back of your mind, something tells you to be more forthcoming, to be more open with this shrink, but it gets shut down before it can become a full thought.

“Okay. I am going to give you my card. It has my office number on it and my email. You can reach out to me anytime you need to.” You give her another polite, lackluster look. She sighs. “Being a new mom can be hard, even for those who don’t have histories of trauma. There is no shame in needing help.”

“I know. Thank you.” You hold the card up like its proof that you’re listening, like you can be trusted to call if you think you’re in trouble. She gives you a sympathetic smile as she makes to leave, reiterating that she wants you to call her if you need to.

A heavy knock sounds on the door, and then Simon is standing in the room, medical mask on his face, sleeping baby cuddled against him. Just the sight of him holding Theo cleaves your heart in two, and you hold your arms out to them both, anxious to be near them. He gives the doctor a look when she passes, and then raises an eyebrow at you.

“You alright?” Theo cries and you motion with your hands so you can hold him.

“Yeah. Just usual shrink stuff.”

“Alright, come off it. It’s not that funny.” Simon’s jaw flexes as you try to hold back the laughter and fail. It hurts your stomach, but at the same time, it feels great. It feels real.

“Oh my god. I’m so- sorry. For laughing, it’s just-“ you stare down at the mess of burnt food in the pan, eyebrows creasing in sympathy when you look back up at him. “You’re so sweet. Thank you.” He scowls.

“I’ll order takeout.”

“No, no you don’t have to. We can make something else.”

“No.” He turns to stalk away, and you’re hit with a wave of emotion out of nowhere, so strong that it nearly knocks you off balance, almost steals your breath. It feels familiar. It feels like Belize, and every second afterwards until he sent you away, it feels like waking up in the hospital to his face hovering over yours, it feels like watching him press his ear to your belly when Theo was still inside you. It feels like that night when the two of you sat on the roof of the safehouse in Belarus, after the botched extraction mission, the one that left him with twenty stitches in his thigh and you got that really bad burn on your arm. The roof where the two of you traded secrets, where he told you about his dad and you told him about yours. It feels like the night in Uruguay, when you and Johnny and him all went out and found a bar, when you got drunk and he pressed you against the brick wall in the alley, your legs wrapped around his waist, his face buried in your neck, whispering words you couldn’t quite hear under his breath. It feels like watching him cry in the operating room when he saw the baby for the first time, watching him become a dad, watching him beat the vicious cycle of trauma and abuse right before your eyes.

You wrap yourself around his waist before he can get too far away, molding your body to his back, and his hand comes down to where yours rests on his stomach.

“Sass?”

“Don’t. Just, stay here. Like this. For a minute.” He shifts, turning while keeping you pressed against him, until you’re resting your cheek on his chest, and he’s rubbing your back.

“You alright?” His voice is gentle, he’s always gentle with you now, and the realization makes the feeling grow even stronger.

“Yeah. I’m… Simon. I-“

Theo cries on the baby monitor. Insistent. Bossy, as Simon enjoys telling you, like his mum.

You step away with a sigh.

“I’ll get him.” He kisses your forehead before heading up the stairs.

When he makes it back down, you’re scrubbing the pan out, charred food already deposited in the garbage can.

“There she is.” Simon says from behind you, and you turn to see Theo blinking in your direction, eyes wide and making little garbled cooing noises.

“Hi baby.” Simon shuffles him into your arms, and you sway side to side slowly. “You’re hungry.” You deduce, and he agrees with you, making an impatient crying sound, tiny fist swinging into the air. “I know, I know. Hang on.” You soothe. You settle yourself on the couch with a bottle, brushing against his cheek lightly to trigger the rooting reflex before plopping it in his mouth. He drinks greedily, eyes trying to slip shut once he’s had his fill, and Simon laughs from where he sits next to you.

“You’re good at this.” He says quietly. You balance Theo on your shoulder while you burp him, and then look at Simon like he’s off his rocker.

“Me?”

“Yeah, Sass.” He pauses. “And ya look good, holding my baby.” Your cheeks heat, and something clenches in your stomach. You shoot him a look and he grins like a fool, real happiness stretching across his face in spades. It’s beautiful, he’s beautiful, and you- “I know you’re struggling right now,” he pulls you out of your train of thought, eyes pensive, grin morphing into something bittersweet. “and it’s been hard, but… I’m here. For you. For Theo. I want us…” he trails off when Theo burps and you shift, cradling him back into a sleeping position. “I don’t know… what will happen, in the future, and I know I still got a lot, of making up to do. But I want this. With you. I want us to… be a family.” You study his knuckles, fingers bunched together with tension, the height of his shoulders under his ears. You expect to feel the unraveling force of your anger, the swell of rage towards him that has been lurking under the surface for so long, but it never comes. It simmers in the distance, cool and unprovoked, sitting silently and uneager. You wonder if it's temporary, if you’ll ever feel it again, the way you used to.

Instead, when you look at him, all you see is Simon. Theo’s dad. All you have is that feeling, the strong emotion that makes your head spin, and while you can’t get your mouth to form those three words, you feel the full force it when you look up at him with softness in your gaze and say,

“I think we already are, Si.”

#sassy series #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x you #reader was pregnant #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley #simon riley #cod mwii #cod mw22 fanfiction #cod fanfic #cod mw2 #ghost cod #tw pregnancy #soft dad simon riley #reader is referred to as mom #simon x sass #ghost x reader #peaches writes

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moonstruckme · 2 months

Note

hey lovely! if you’re up to it, would you be able to write something w james or remus with comforting a reader who’s insecure about her skin/having broken out? i’m totally not projecting (i get chronic rashes on my face and one broke out recently and it’s making me sooo self conscious because my birthday is soon and i wanted to feel pretty 😖)

thank you!! mwah!!!

xoxo @mareagirls

Hi Rosa my love! Thank you for requesting and happy early birthday!!

cw: reader is insecure about her skin

Remus Lupin x fem!reader ♡ 750 words

You scrub at your skin with your fingertips, pads pressing harshly as you distribute the cleanser over your face. Then turn the tap as cold as it can go, splashing water and scrubbing again to make sure the product is all gone.

“Alright, enough of that,” says Remus as you towel your face dry. You look up to see your boyfriend watching you in the mirror from the bedroom. He tents his book beside him on the bed, beckoning you over. “Come here, bring your stuff.”

You turn around to look at him. “Why?”

You can see Remus intentionally smoothing the pique from his expression, gentling it into something kinder. “Just come sit with me, please.”

You gather your things off the bathroom counter, carrying them into the bedroom and plopping down in front of him on the bed. Remus knows your routine. He takes a washcloth from you wordlessly, wetting it with product.

“Close your eyes.”

You do, and he starts swiping the product gently over your skin, starting at your jawline and working his way slowly upwards, following the planes of your face. His free hand is wrapped loosely around the side of your neck to steady the both of you.

“Why are you doing this?” you murmur, trying not to move your face as you speak.

“Couldn’t stand seeing you look so angry with yourself,” Remus replies, matching your volume. His voice is low and raspy, inlaid still with traces of frustration. You hadn’t realized you had been looking like that. “S’like you’ve no idea how pretty you are.”

There’s a thick pause. The washcloth shushes over the skin of your forehead, and you can feel Remus’ gaze boring into your shuttered lids.

“I know you think I just say that,” he says, setting the washcloth down on your leg. You open your eyes, and he’s squirting moisturizer onto the pad of his index finger. His eyes flit up to yours, the color of honey or perfectly steeped tea. You look away. “I don’t. I wouldn’t bother saying anything if you weren’t as lovely as you are, and it’s insane that you don’t know it yourself. I mean, we’re looking at the same face, aren’t we?”

Your lips twist upwards as you close your eyes and Remus sets his hands to your face again. He smooths the moisturizer into your skin with thorough, loving strokes.

“I do feel pretty, sometimes,” you admit. “Just not so much when my skin is acting up like this.”

“Not sure how that changes anything.” His voice is gruff, audibly judgemental in the way you’re sure only he can manage. It coaxes a soft laugh from you, and Remus’ thumb swipes extra affectionately over your cheekbone, approving. His tone lightens. “Really, dove, it’s not like the rest of you just disappears because you’ve broken out. You’re just as lovely. I’m not sure anything could change that, short of reconstructive surgery I suppose.”

You roll your eyes. They’re still closed, but you hope he sees the motion anyway. “You’re being too nice to me. I know it’ll go away eventually, but it’s still not the same as when my skin is clear.”

“It’s not,” Remus allows. “Of course it’s not the same. But that’s like saying I’m not the same with my scars as I was without them. And I still managed to snag you all mangled-looking.”

You open your eyes, despite his hands still moving over your face. “You’re not mangled-looking,” you say. You know Remus knows this, but it feels important to tell him anyway. “I love you with your scars.”

He smiles softly, and you close your eyes again, satisfied. “Then you see what I’m getting at,” he says. “I love you like this, just the same as when your skin looked a bit different.” His touch arcs over your eyebrow. “And everyone else loves you just the same, too.”

You hum, a pleased sort of capitulation. “You’re such a sweet talker.”

“Doesn’t take much imagination to tell the truth.” You can hear Remus’ smile. “You’re always lovely, dove, but I like you best when you look like you feel lovely, too.”

“I’ll try,” you say. He hums satisfiedly, thumbs brushing twin paths across your cheeks. “Is there really still product to rub in?”

“Mm, not strictly speaking.” Remus’ lips press, soft and sweet, to your freshly moisturized cheek. He doesn’t seem to mind the bumps. “But I think I’d better do this a while longer just to be sure.”

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st-danger · 8 months

Note

This is not depraved at all (unless you take it there somehow 👀)—so I will completely understand if you ignore this as it is not very on brand. We stan the king of ghoul rimming in this house. I really adore your fic about Copia coming home from tour and big boy Aeth sucking his brain out through his dick. I would love to know when the ghouls decided finally show Copia their faces and how it went. Even as itty bitty headcanons. Really glad to hear your surgery went well btw ♡ and thank you for sharing your writing with us! xx, @ghuleh-recs

It isn't actually an expressly forbidden thing. There's no rule that states the ghouls need their faces covered all the time, around the abbey. On stage, of course, but off? Imperator has never made any such decree. (Nihil never did, either, but we all know who's actually in charge.)

They prefer to keep masked when they aren't around only each other. The door to the ghoul common room is near an annex of the building and is locked for a reason; they prefer privacy. It's a lot of work to keep the human glamour going, and there's something about being seen in their true form, in any level, that feels intimate beyond words.

So, when Aether approaches Copia and lays a hand on his shoulder, leans in and invites him back after mass one night, Copia understands the gravity of the situation when he realizes what it is they want to share with him. And standing by the fireplace once inside, with his dear band ghouls surrounding him...he sees their eyes through the metal, knows how keenly he is being watched. Can feel nervousness that is not entirely his. It feels just as much that he's under a spotlight here, now, as it does when he's on stage for a ritual.

"Will you look human at all?" Copia asks softly, peering up at Aether.

"Some of us do," Aether murmurs. "More than Alpha and Omega. Any of the older ghouls."

He once heard Terzo describe looking at Omega's true face as "confusing". He never asked any follow up questions to clarify that statement, but he's always wondered if confusing meant strange to look at, or strange to look at because his human brain couldn't figure out exactly what it was looking at, in an Eldritch horror kind of way. If hellspawn are naturally just beyond what mortal minds can know.

"Are you sure?" Copia asks, though his hands are already reaching towards Aether's face. "You want me to see you?"

"We want you to know us," Aether replies simply, and carefully, so carefully, Copia slides off Aether's mask, like the metal might turn out to be sugar and splinter and break if he isn't gentle.

It's more human than he expects, but still so unnatural it makes him shiver. He sucks in a breath and takes in Aether's features; the deep grey skin, the fangs poking through black lips. His nose looks crooked, the skin pinched in the angles like it had been broken and stretched. There's texture in the skin that makes it look so distinctly inhuman. Copia looks into lavender eyes and gawks.

"Aether," he says, "you're lovely."

A smiling demon is a sight. Aether looks so pleased, and immediately sighs, shoulders slumping as he relaxes. To his right, Swiss laughs.

"He was so worried," he tells Copia, "you were gonna think he was ugly."

"I wasn't worried," Aether mutters, trying to shrug it off. Copia can tell by the petulant tone Swiss is telling the truth.

"Oh yes you were," Swiss says, and then Copia watches his face revealed, the mismatched eyes, the brilliant white of fangs against skin that looks less like skin and more like a void.

And one by one, they make themselves that much more known to Copia. Rain is the last, and the most hesitant. Dew keeps a hand on the small of Rain's back, a soothing little gesture.

"You don't have to, if you don't want to," Copia reminds him.

"He wants to," Dew says, answering for Rain. "He's just shy." The pale blue of Rain's eyes flash at Dew, and Copia just knows if he could see the expression right now, it would be a withering thing.

Rain lifts the mask away.

There's a weird iridescent quality to the skin. Copia's brain tells him it's wet, but when he reaches out with an ungloved hand and lays it gently against the angle of a cheekbone, it feels dry and warm. His nose is thin. Flat. Stripes under his jaw reveal gills. And where a mouth would be, Copia finds lips that look half melted together. Distinct in one corner, and like ruined wax on the other side. A feature that tried to form, and melted in the fire during his summoning.

"Is this why you're so quiet?" Copia asks carefully.

Rain nods and lets his eyes close, pressing his cheek into the warmth of Copia's palm.

#st-speaks #ghost #the band ghost #nameless ghouls #aether ghoul #copia #cardinal copia #papa emeritus iv #papa/aether #copia/aether #swiss ghoul #dewdrop ghoul #dew ghoul #sodo ghoul #rain ghoul #ghost fanfiction #ghost headcanons #ghost fic

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icanseethefuture333 · 11 months

Text

PAC: How you see your appearance vs how other people percieve your beauty 🤍

Please feel free to leave a tip $$$

"I see your true colors shining through. . . And that's why I love you 🌈"

Pile 1:

Shufflemancy -

Platform Shoes by Slayyyter

Splish Splash by DreamDoll ft. Cupcakke

Say Yes To Heaven by Lana Del Rey

Ace of Water, The Emperor, & Seven of Water "Illusion"

You are just tooooo cute, Pile 1 💞! Literally the embodiment of sugar, spice, and everything nice. I feel like you are a very cute and adorable person. Your appearance could be feminine and clean. I'm thinking of the pink, coquette aesthetic. I also see glossy lips, nail sets, and long eyelashes (you could wear extensions or need to go get them filled in again). You see yourself as gentle and caring. You may think you are fragile or dainty? Or resemble characters from those 2000s movies or you remind people of a novel love interest. Your style could be either soft, mcbling, or y2k, possibly a mixture of them all. You could use like childhood movies, stuffed animals, or shopping for comfort or as a coping method. There is also something unique about your appearance, perhaps you have beauty mark, freckles, a crooked tooth, round cheeks, etc. You have something that makes you stand out! Which is really cool :D! How people percieve your beauty - they think you are unreal somehow? They think you are like "Hollywood star" beauty. Even though you are not "perfect" it makes you likeable and relatable. For those who have a social media influence or popular regarding to their school, hometown, etc. Some might even wonder if you had plastic surgery done. Also for those wondering if you'd look good with plastic surgery - yes you would! I'm not seeing anything too extreme as regards to plastic surgery but for those who like the "bimbo" look they could totally rock it. Or you are able to transform yourself with makeup. People who identify as more masculine or men find you so attractive. You could be popular amongst mascfems, studs, or men who are comfortable with their masculinity. It's giving "my girl can wear whatever she wants because I know how to fight". For any men reading this 🥰 I feel like people are so in awe or you! Like you would be the prettiest man anyone has ever seen in their life. (Clarified by The Moon. Faking It by Sasha Alex Sloan). Aw you really are a sensitive person deep down, pile 1. I feel like not many get to see you when you are down or know about the late nights you stayed up crying. You may have had your heart broken before or had your heart broken by someone more than once (I'm so sorry :(!). I feel like when you have your moments of depression or feel sadness you feel really self conscious. So you could use makeup as a mask to cover to what you're feeling down. You don't have to fake a smile or portray being happy, baby. Try to practice some self care and focus on your inner beauty when you feel deep down. Spend time with a trusted friend and tell then what's been on your mind. Practicing affirmations and mirror work can also help past wounds. Take care of that precious, tenderheart of yours my little carebear 🐻!

Pile 2:

Shufflemancy -

I Am Who Am (Killin' Time) by Mac Miller ft. Niko Randa

Wake Up by Logic ft. Lucy Rose

Wife You Up by Russ

King of Fire, Adjustment, & The Sun

Pile 2, I feel that you are a natural beauty! You're not one for wearing lots of makeup or styling your hair too much. I see that you just really like to be comfortable. For how you view yourself, you could really like your facial structure :)! Your cheekbones might be defined or you have a nice jawline. On a typical day to day, your everyday style would consist of your hair pulled up into a ponytail or bun, wearing sweats, or a t shirt and jeans. You could also be a hard worker or your job requires you to have shifts early in the morning. For some of you in this pile, you could work in a café and make coffee, tea, boba, smoothies, or anything to do with drinks. People at your job love coming to you because you give great customer service. Also they see you as "girl/boy next door type". A friendly, good citizen. For how others percieve your beauty - they think your features are balanced and harmonious. Perhaps your face is quite symmetrical or your beauty feels familiar. You also have a very radiant smile or your laugh could be unexpected! You are a very bright and charming person ☀️! (Clarified by Four of Earth "Stability". Baby Girl by Chloe x Halle) I feel that you have been putting off a dream or haven't been paying attention to your inner child. pile 2. What have you done for yourself lately? You should take a break and focus on doing some fun activities to take care of your spirit. You are very generous towards others but seem to neglect your own needs sometimes! Try to go for a nice walk or be in nature, it'll do you some good! Also don't be afraid of being silly, you don't have to be so serious all the time. Perhaps doing volunteer work at a children's school or museum could let your playful side come out to play. Your inner child also wants to do some coloring or dancing. For some people in this pile, leap frog could be significant or a favorite childhood game 🐸.

Pile 3:

Shufflemancy -

Stretch You Out by Summer Walker ft. A Boogie Wit da Hoodie

Masquerade by Siouxxie Sixxsta

Test Drive by Ariana Grande

Two of Earth "Change", Nine of Water "Joy", & Nine of Earth "Gain"

This pile is very specific. I'm seeing dark hair, dark eyes, and fair to medium skintones. Your hair could be straight and black or dark brown (some of you have dyed your hair a wine red). Your eyes are almond shaped and your eyebrows are arched. If you identify as feminine, you really give off like 2014 ig baddie vibes, pile 3! Some of you could be black, Hispanic/Latin, or Southeast Asian descent. I'm reminded of those tiktoks of girls doing "chicana" makeup, so that could be how you like to do your makeup. For the fellas, you could have nice eyebrows, and a moustache that compliments your full lips. I feel very strongly that you have Scorpio, Sagittarius, or Virgo in your big 3. For how you view yourself, you don't like to stick with one look, you are always changing up your appearance 😂. I feel like when you are sticking to one thing for too long you're like "ugh I need to dye my hair" or "I need a new tattoo". You always have a different style. You like to switch it up every now and then. For how others see your beauty, they see you as very abundant! You may wear high quality jewelry (diamond earrings, gold necklace, etc.), luxury brands, and expensive shoes (some people here are sneakerheads 👟). They could admire as well that you're generous with your wealth and you could do a lot or provide for your family. (Clarified by Four of Water "Comfort". Again by P-Lo, E-40, & LaRussell). Some of you could like to party?! LMAO. In my card there is otters here and I feel that you have a group of friends that you hang out with on a daily basis. Some of you could like to go out clubbing and enjoy drinking alcohol? 😂 You usually have to be responsible in your family but with your friends you get to be the one who can be reckless instead. There's something about a car so if that doesn't resonate with you, either you or your friend take turns being designated drivers. Be careful when driving, pile 3! Have fun rolling with the homies 🚗

Pile 4:

Shufflemancy -

Unique by Miliyah

Smoke Weed Eat P*ssy by Ängie

Roof by Rico Nasty

Four of Fire "Perfection", Ace of Earth, & Four of Air of "Truce"

Pile 4, you are really confident in yourself! I'm seeing that you don't really care what other thinks about how you look and live to please yourself. Your style could be alternative, you have bangs, and your hair has layers. Perhaps you have a mullet, curtain bangs, or a feathered layers. Some of you have your hair dyed with highlights such as green, blue, blonde, etc. For your makeup, your eyeliner could have a thick wing, or you have a signature smokey eye look. You could also like to have wear faux freckles or you have actual freckles. Your lips could often be seen with black lip liner and a signature cherry red lipstick. You could have piercings, I'm seeing specifically a septum piercing, snake bites, or gauges. There could also be a tattoo on your shoulder, forearm, or back, even possibly a sleeve. There could be Aries, Taurus, or Aquarius in your big 3 as well. You could also be apart of the LGBTQ+ community. How people perceive your beauty is that you have a tough exterior but deep down you are a calm and peaceful person. Which is interesting in comparison to your appearance. Your aura is comforting and nice to be around :D! (Clarified by Six of Fire "Success". Falling for U by Peachy!, MXMTOON) This is so cute 🥺! So there is someone who secretly has a crush on you or you have some secret admirers. Possibly someone in your friend or group you interact with on a daily basis. They are super shy around you and wish they could tell you how pretty/handsome that you are ☺️. If you already know who this is and feel the same way, perhaps encourage them a bit or flirt with them so they could confess their feelings 💞 (*sniffles* I ship 🤧😍)

Pile 5:

Shufflemancy -

Use Your Heart - Interlude by SWV

Love You Down by Ready For The World

Freakend by Megan Thee Stallion

The Empress, Ace of Water, & Temperance

Okay Pile 5, I know this is tired and old but... Mommy? Yes. Mommy? Yes. I cannot 😭 Some of you could give off milf vibes and you know this. You are either mature for your age or this pile is for my ladies in their 30s and up (It's giving "Damn Ms.Parker finer than a motherf*cker, I'd knock the dust OFF that p*ssy!" 😂😂😂). This Pile is very feminine and sensual. Your body could be very curvaceous 😏 body shaped like a figure 8 fr. Your lips could be plump and kissable as well 😚. If you identify as a masculine (either pronouns, style, gender, etc). You are just a very beautiful man. You could possibly get babied by the female figures in your life lol. Perhaps you have older sisters or a lot of women in your family. You just appear as the people would say "written by a woman". You could like to wear long flowy dresses, heels, cardigans, blouses, etc. Some people here could love the 80s/90s aesthetic. I'm visualizing somebody with big fluffy curls. Also you could attract partners who are younger than you or crave someone who is maternal in their life 🥴. (Clarified by The High Priestess. So Much More by Xaiver Omär) For how people perceive your beauty, you are down to earth, and just naturally stunning. You could have a good heart as well and possibly do some sort of service for the community. You could be great with kids or love animals as well. Religion or spirituality is significant in your life. So your devotion to God or your faith in the spiritual realm is admirable. People find you wise and want to gain knowledge from your life lessons. I feel that some of you may worry people only consider you just a pretty face with a nice body but that's far from the truth. The people who do appreciate you think you are so kind and memorable to them. Also if you ever feel insecure or lonely, your spirit guides want you to know how much they love you. So if you ever need someone to comfort you in a time of need, call upon your deities, angels, etc.

Pile 6:

Shufflemancy -

Girls by Kid Cudi ft Too $hort

Single by The Neighbourhood

겨울 탓 (Winter) by SAAY ft. Woo

The Tower, Eight of Earth "Circumspection", & Ace of Air

Trigger warning

This is interesting. So Pile 6, I see that your appearance actually makes you feel stress or turmoil at times. You could be really self conscious about how you look. For some of you, you could have experienced some sort of traumatic event, or had an injury which drastically caused for you to change. For example, you could have burn scars, large bruises, etc. Some other messages coming through that your self image is warped due to experiencing some sort of abuse (either from a partner, bullying at school, etc). I am really sorry for everything you're going 🥺! I wish you healing and hope you can grow to learn to like how you look. Just know that what other people said or done to you is never your fault and just projecting their own self hatred and insecurities onto you. Now to talk about your physical traits that stand out. You have wavy light brown hair, brown to hazel eyes, and textured skin (sun spots, freckles, wrinkles, etc). For how people perceive your beauty, I see you have some supporters who find your story very motivational. People in your family know the hard work and the steps you took in order to survive and they commend you for it. This is a selective message for only of a few of you but your ancestors have been with you since the beginning of your journey. In this card there is a family of elephants, animals who are known to never forget. Your guides want you to remember the people who did you wrong but also learn to not hold grudges because it will hinder your growth. Practicing journaling, shadow work, and using prompts could help improve your self esteem and provide clarity as to why you have such negative thoughts about your appearance. Also maybe asking your loved ones what makes you beautiful could you help a boost of condience. (Clarified by Mother of Earth. Glitch by Buddy ft. Tinashe) I feel as you get older, you are going to appreciate yourself, your life, and the lessons it had for you. I'm even seeing as you age you will look even more beautiful! One day your will develop wrinkles in the corner of your eyes and see gray hairs at your roots but you will find yourself to be happy about it. Gratitude is a big thing here. The reason why it's because you have to think about not many people live a long life so the fact that you will be blessed to do that, is amazing! Also for some of you I could see that you will look into manifestation. Perhaps you will use law of attraction, subliminals, or affirmations to work on your confidence and feeling more beautiful. You will start trusting your intuition and experiencing "glitches" in the matrix. You will see life doesn't have to be so hard or always be difficult, there can be wonderful moments as well.

Pile 7:

Shufflemancy -

January 28th by J. Cole

AMERICAN GURL by Kilo Kish

EARTHA by Jamila Woods

Six of Air "Knowledge", Five of Air "Conflict, & The Hermit (reversed)

Pile 7, I feel that you are just now acknowledging how beautiful you are! Perhaps you went through a period of being a wallflower or were very shy. You are coming out of your shell and taking steps in embracing your beauty :D! Awesome! Your appearance could be very ethereal. I'm getting that you have features that stand out and you are beautiful with an eclectic style. I'm reminded of like a alien or stars in the galaxy (some of you could be interested in starseeds, sci-fi, or conspiracy theories). This message could be only for some but there was either a friend or ex partner that you had in your life that was jealous of you. They would put you down so you wouldn't feel confident in yourself (Yuck! What a hater 🙄). This caused you to feel self conscious and out of place but now you are taking back your power. You are realizing this person was just projecting their own issues onto you. If this person is still in your life, I highly advise that you cut this person off! They don't wish to see you happy or succeed. I am sure you know who this person is as well. (Clarified by The Star. Vamp by Father ft Tommy Genesis) Oh yeah this person is gonna be fucking miserable 😂. You are gonna experience a huge glow up, Pile 7! I feel like this person has been giving you the evil eye and your spirit guides are not playing that shit. They are gonna get what's coming to them for trying to dim your light and sabotage you. The energy vampire will be gone 🧛🏽‍♀️! You are going to be healing your self esteem and from the past wounds people have inflicted onto you. You get to shine bright and be the star that you are my lovely, pile 7 🌠 Congratulations!

Pile 8:

Shufflemancy -

BIBI Vengeance by BIBI

Icy by Kim Petras

Do You? By Troyboi

The Magus, The High Priestess, & Mother of Air

Pile 8, honestly you are cool as fuck 😎! You could be a model or into fashion, if not, you totally should to start pursuing something along those lines of a career because you have such a chic aura! I'm seeing that you could have sleek hair, slanted eyes, and a prominent facial structure. I'm being reminded of models like Sora Choi and Anok Yai. You could have cool toned skin and wear colors that contrast well with your undertones. You have almost like a ice queen/king presence. People could be intimidated by your presence or find you very intriguing. You could have a popular social media presence or would be eventually be big on the internet. I believe you are aware that because of your appearance it could be marketable or know your looks could attract financial wealth. For how others perceive your beauty; They consider you mysterious, smart, and strong. (Clarified by Two of Air "Equilibrium". DICTATOR by REI AMI.) I'm being reminded of Azula from The Avatar: The Last Airbender. She was raised to be a weapon by her father but was just only a teenager. She began to crack under pressure and suffered a mental breakdown in the dual with her brother Zuko and Katara. You could have a duality to yourself. On the outside, you are stoic and regal - but deep down you could be sentimental and nervous. You could be nostalgic about some things in your life and possibly worry about if you are making the right decisions. Some of you could have parents with strong expectations as well. Please don't be so hard on yourself, pile 8! It's okay to make mistakes for that is how we learn. I know it can be scary to be vulnerable but try to let others in and get to know you for the real you. You could have a avoidant attachment and often doubt others when they try to show their love for you. You don't trust many people and either stay alone or only have a few close friends that you adore. I'm seeing also that you are artistic and have a strong work ethic. For some of you, you could have anxiety, which affects your mental health. Try to pick up a hobby to help calm you down or ease those racing thoughts of yours. Being in nature, socializing with animals, or going to a art class could be helpful or significant to some of you.

Pile 9:

Shufflemancy -

Press Your Number by Taemin

Deja Vu by ATEEZ

Pretty by FAKY

Daughter of Fire, Ace of Fire, & Wheel of Fortune

Omg pile 9, you are my hotties 🥵😍!!! You know you're the shit and nobody could tell you different (period!). You really have the mindset of being the "main character" and live life to the fullest. You could have short hair, buzzcut, or part of your head is shaved while the rest of it is long (Word to Doja: "Lost a lil' weight, but I ain't never lost a tushy. Lookin' good, but now my bald head match my 🐱"). You could also have a prominent nose, plump lips, darker skin, piercings (eyebrow, nose, or lip? Possibly all 3!), and a tummy pouch (you could have a belly button piercing too). Some of you could be proud of your booty or like to twerk, don't matter the size 😂. You wear bangles, crystals, waistbeads, and gold hoops. As for your style you dress like it's summer all the time. You could wear tube tops, crop tops, denim shorts/capris, baggy jeans, flip flops, and sneakers. You could get compliments a lot and be told that your style is "fresh". For how people perceive your beauty, they think you are lucky, blessed, and a joy to be around! I'm getting a vision of someone rub their hands 👏🏽. So people want to rub off some of your luck. NSFW but some people want to feel up on you 😂. They think your skin looks radiant and soft or want to touch your curves/muscles. (Clarified by The Sun. Going Off by P-Lo) Idk why I'm hearing "Step outside hoe. Step outside!" 🤣 You are enjoying your freedom and letting loose. You could be the type of person people always see on social media traveling places or partying. If any of you still live with your parents, y'all are stressing your mfin' parents tf OUT 😭💀! You could have to sneak out or lie about where you're going with a cover up outfit just to go places. You get away with a lot though because of how much they love you 😮‍💨 I'm getting some of you could be the youngest child. Your family think you can be a knucklehead but they love your energy and you make them laugh and smile during the hard times. Also this could be a message for a select few but some of y'all need to stop getting into fights or arguments 😭! Please learn to pick and choose your battles lol. Make sure to handle your substances responsibly (Mary Jane by Rick James came on so if you guys like to smoke weed or drink alcohol, be careful of your surroundings 😅!).

#pac #pick a card #tarot #tarot reading #tarot cards #pick a card reading #witchcraft #astrology #wicca #Spotify

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