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#it's been stuck in my head since like june
mooneith · 4 months
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:3
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newfruits · 2 years
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okay so. i've been really considering doing hrt.... i'm starting the in-depth research phase and i'm gonna bring it up with my therapist today and my doctor in a couple weeks since i already have an appt. i'm trying to find more fat nonbinary people on T bc society favours skinny ppl and thats just. not going to happen for me! it gives a biased view. going on T will not make me magically skinny as much as i would like to fantasize! and i would like to see real life ppl that did temporary hrt to medically transition as a nonbinary person. if u happen to know of someone that talks about that lemme know
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angelsforthenight · 3 months
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BEYOND SALVAGE — ellie williams x fem!reader.
a catholic boarding school AU pt 1 🍓
pt 2 here!
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you’re somebody that’s virtuous, staying in an all girls catholic boarding school. fallen victim to the vast fear of god, you try your hardest not to sin. however what happens when an embarrassing incident catches a certain rogue girl’s attention — who absolutely reeks of sin?
content: heavy religious talk, catholic, holy! reader, rebel!ellie, quiet!reader, player!ellie, ellie has piercings, ‘lil raunchy but no smut (yet heheh), v brief mention of drugs, v brief mention of porn.
a/n: this is a rewrite of a fic i did back in the summer! i had accidentally (and stupidly) deleted my account :,) let’s pray people see this.
having lived in a catholic boarding school for half of your life, it’s only natural you were heavily religious. the fear of god plagued you like a disease. you were nailed on following the Word, and earning a seat in heaven — not it’s roaring, fiery counterpart.
you were a good girl: always following the rules the sisters bestowed upon you. always deemed as pure, and untainted. you prayed every night without fail: knelt beside your bed, elbows against the mattress, hands clasped together.
you had always tried your hardest to stray away from sin. however, there’d be temptations, of course. for instance, that one time you caught a bunch of girls in your dorm giggling and squealing at a porno-magazine they had randomly found somewhere. you had accidentally caught a very brief glimpse at a woman flaunting her tits and you couldn’t quite put your finger on it, but it made you feel something. a needy little throb between your thighs. that night, consumed with guilt, you had prayed so hard that your head hurt.
oh, and if we’re talking about temptations? ELLIE WILLIAMS had to be the hardest one yet.
take the word sinful and ellie would come to mind. she was someone you had always tried your best to avoid. rebellious, brash and cocky. it was said she was forced here as punishment from her parents. she had always been hard to discipline: had piercings (spider bites and one on her right brow), always snuck out and was notorious for smuggling in drugs.
even though ellie was a pain, there was no way the nuns could expel her since her parents sponsored the school a generous amount. they had to resort to seeing ellie as someone they could “save.”
whenever she roamed the hallways, every girl would scramble to move out of her way. she was incredibly intimidating and got into fights whenever she wanted to — both with students AND the sisters. of course you wouldn’t want to mess with her.
there were also numerous rumours circling around about her. too many to count, but one stuck with you the most: that she gets it on with girls. hearing from your gossip-gripped friends that ellie had fucked a handful of girls in your school had surprised you. you were brutally naive, so preoccupied with seeming good in the eyes of the Lord that you weren’t aware that something like that could happen. this had only made you want to stay away from ellie even more.
you were quiet, so timid and meek that you believed yourself lucky to actually have friends. your quietness allowed ellie not to notice you, not even be aware of your existence despite you two being in a lot of the same classes. you didn’t mind — in fact, you were glad. relieved, even.
that is, until the school’s annual sports day.
it was a scorching hot day in the middle of june and many of the girls were excited. not particularly because of the sports but because every time, the neighbouring all boys school would join yours. a classic boys versus girls. you didn’t really care whether the boys were here or not, as opposed to your friends who were all bashful and red-faced. you found it understandable considering they’re sheltered away from them most of the time. bless them.
you and your friends were leaning against the fence of the tennis court. you were so hot that your t-shirt stuck to the small of your back, little baby hairs glued to your forehead. bored from all the boy-talk, your eyes decided to drift to a certain auburn-haired girl: manspreading on the bench right across from you. you wondered how a woman could sit so unladylike.
ellie was out of breath, probably from doing a running activity. there was visible sweat gleaming on the corner of her forehead and her cheeks were pink. god knows why, but you allowed yourself to prolong your stare. you watched as ellie grabbed her water bottle, gulping down desperate sips; some of the water spilling and dripping down her slender neck. you watched as the skin on her neck bobbed as she sipped, heard as she panted breathlessly like a dog. you felt the skin on your cheeks begin to prickle, and you suddenly found it hard to breathe. when her pale green eyes caught yours, you immediately looked away, turning your attention back to your friends. that was the first time you two had ever made eye contact.
a moment later, it was your group’s turn to play tennis. ellie remained perched on the bench, and as you waited in the queue to have a go on batting the ball, you happened to be quite near her. you tried your very best to play it cool. ellie paid no attention, spaced-out and obviously too lazy to participate in the activities.
there were also boys in the queue, right behind you, which had got your girls in a frenzy. one of your friends decided to push you against them. “oops” she would say before purposely bumping you towards them again and again. you were awkward and uncomfortable, but you had played it off and giggled, acting as if it was funny. at a point, she accidentally pushed you too hard which made you lose your balance; stumbling on your heel and falling backwards. right onto ellie’s lap. yep! her lap.
“woah?” ellie said, caught off guard. “oh shit. go. go!” your so-called friends murmured as they scrambled off, leaving you completely and utterly humiliated. you immediately bolted off her lap as you turned around to look at her.
“i’m really sorry. that was— i mean, my f-friends were…” you began to ramble, feeling your whole body turn hot. ellie’s lips cracked up into an amused grin.
“it’s chill. not very often you get a cute girl sitting on your lap for less than a second.” she chuckled. you blushed immensely, before rapidly nodding and speeding away.
if only your little innocent self knew how quick things would change…
a/n: hooked? read pt 2 here!
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lazarusemma · 6 months
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Nov 6 - Cas is
Nov 11 - He’s
Nov 18 - Sam says Mia says journaling helps. Sure.
Nov 19 - Should’ve been me.
Nov 20 - Sam, if you’re reading this thing, I’ll kick your ass.
Nov 21 - Spaghetti for dinner. Cas still dead. Journaling still stupid.
Nov 24 - I should’ve said
Nov 25 - Should’ve told him.
Nov 26, Thanksgiving - Not a whole lot of thanks around here. Thanks for dying in front of me, man. Thanks for saying all that. Thanks for disappearing again before I
Nov 30 - C not back.
Dec 5 - 1 month. C gone. J quiet. S annoying.
Dec 6 - Least Sam’s alive.
Dec 8 - [drawing of Castiel, half sketched]
Dec 10 - Not much of a friggin’ artist huh.
Dec 26 - No miracle.
Dec 31 - Gonna be another year without 
2021
Jan 1, New Year’s - Midnight alone. You should be here. You should
Jan 2 - I should’ve
Jan 5 - 2 months
Feb 5 - 3 months since I should’ve fucking kissed you.
Feb 28 - If this was a leap year man I bet you’d be back tomorrow you always did shit like that surprised the hell out of me.
Mar 1 - So it goes.
Mar 2 - S thought the library here had Vonnegut. Didn’t.
Mar 5 - 4 months Went to get a library card in town.
Mar 11 - “And I asked myself about the present: how wide it was, how deep it was, how much was mine to keep.”
Mar 30 - Sam might have a hunt for us. Don’t know if
Mar 31 - Turned it down. Passed it to Jody’s crew.
Apr 1, April Fool’s - Real funny C. Joke's over. Come back already.
Apr 9 - There’s things I can’t say things I’ve never been good at saying but you gotta know
Apr 29 - He didn’t know he didn’t know he didn’t know he didn’t
May 5 - You died not knowing, you asshole. 6 months and you’re not back so I can’t tell you.
May 6 - You missed Star Wars day, you know.
May 7 - Didn’t even Han you. Well I didn't know did I.
May 8 - Did I?
May 9 - Maybe I
May 26 - “How nice — to feel nothing, and still get full credit for being alive.”
June 5 - 7
July 5 - 8
Aug 5 - 9
Aug 6 - What if you don’t
Aug 10 - You missed my birthday. S’s too. J’s.
Aug 11 - If you can hear me
Aug 12 - What would he even
Sept 5 - Nearly crashed the car today. S had to drive. Banged up my head leaning on the window in the backseat like a kid. 10
Sept 6 - Researching.
Sept 7 - Ain’t fair you missed a whole year. Gonna have a lot of catch up to play when
Sept 8 - …when we get you back.
Sept 18 - Been 12 years. You believe that, Cas? Since I came back. Since you brought me back. Guess I hoped today would be the magic bullet to getting you back. Like you’d tip your head at me and say Hello Dean. And I’d tell you how I raised you from perdition. Whatever. Just a day I guess. Universe doesn’t care it’s our anniversary
Sept 19 - Still gonna say it though. When it works.
Oct 5 - 11. It’s gonna work
Oct 31, Halloween - Never got to put you in a dumb matching costume. Next year though.
Nov 4 - Can’t sleep. Sam says time is powerful magic or some shit like that. Says an anniversary can have echoes. So we’re trying it tomorrow. God, this better work. Cas, you hear me? We’re coming for you. I’ve been praying all year and I’m hearing nothing back. I’ll tell you tomorrow. Gonna get this stuck mouth of mine to make good. It’s just the words, even on paper, they don’t—Tomorrow though, tomorrow I’m telling you everything. Promise.
Nov 5 - Today.
Nov 6 - !!! 🙂🙂🙂🙂
^ heh. check out this dork
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arkhammaid · 2 months
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— ˚₊‧⁺˖ THE SIREN'S CALL.
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fandom. formula one
pairing. oscar piastri x fem!reader (fc: none)
about. y/n is a professional mermaid and oscar is her greatest admirer
content warnings. social media au spanning over a long time, not edited/proofread
notes. i got one of those aesthetic professional mermaid tiktoks on my fyp at like 2am... the idea has been stuck in my head since then lol
YOURUSERNAME
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liked by mermaidaquilla, oscar piastri and 1'788 others
yourusername Conquering the big seas with my new mermaid tail. Super excited for the big show this weekend🧜‍♀️
mermaidaquilla gorgeous pictures, the color really suits you <3
⤷ yourusername thank you, aquilla 🫶 we need to go for a dive soon!
⤷ mermaidaquilla oh for sure, let me know when you have time :)
user you're incredible, y/n
user oh my god these pictures are insane??
user i can't wait for the show, going to an aquarium just for you!
⤷ yourusername ahh, thank you so much for your support darling 💗
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YOURUSERNAME
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liked by mermaidaquilla, oscarpiastri and 35'023 others
yourusername Happy (future) World Oceans Day! @/mermaidaquilla and I'll be doing a special show on June 8th, streaming on several platforms to raise awareness and money for our oceans 🌊 We await your attendance, tell your friends and family about it!
mermaidaquilla so happy to do this show with you love!
⤷ yourusername me as well, i'm so honored we will do this together 🥹
user oh my god, collab of my dreams finally come true
⤷ user so happy for y/n to be recognized by the bigger creators!
user marking the day on my calendar!
user my daugher loved you in your last show, thank you for brining magic a bit closer to us
user hold on, what is oscar doing in her likes...
⤷ user who??
YOURUSERNAME
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liked by oscarpiastri, mclaren and 100'244 others
yourusername I've started diving when I was just a little girl and now my job is my child hood dream... I'm a mermaid and belong to the seas. I'm so thankful for all the support I've received, hopefully to many years to come with Mermaid Y/n 💕🪸
mermaidaquilla your journey is incredible, i admire you so much for your drive, you're the mermaid of my dreams. so happy for you that you've made it love!
⤷ yourusername without you it wouldn't have been possible!! i can only thank YOU for being my biggest supporter since the beginning 💗
user every time i'm blown away by the pictures you post
user thank you for making the mermaid community bigger!
user MOTHER Y/N WE'RE SO PROUD
user mother is mothering FR
user HOLD ON WHY IS THERE A MAN ON THE LAST SLIDE??
⤷ user so i'm not the only one who noticed??? is this an official soft launch????
⤷ user i think so? y/n never posted someone without tagging them..
⤷ user our mermaid found her merman 😭
oscarpiastri Congratulations, y/n. You absolutely deserve it 👏
⤷ user OSCAR COMMENTED!!! I REPEAT, OSCAR COMMENTED!!!
⤷ user oh he's brave
⤷ user you mean more like he finally got his shit together. this is his first comment ever after being a whole year in her likes 💀
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OSCARPIASTRI
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liked by yourusername, landonorris, logansargeant and 1'983'034 others
oscarpiastri "She's everything and I'm just Ken."
yourusername But you're very good at car, love 🫶
⤷ oscarpiastri At least that 🫡
user OSCAR HAS A GF, I REPEAT, OSCAR HAS A GF AND SHE'S PRETTY!!!
user omg barbie y/n and her clumsy ken, i love this
landonorris congrats mate!
logansargeant FINALLY!
⤷ oscarpiastri You're acting as if we just came together...
⤷ logansargeant Well, it did take you long enough
user my new fav wag
⤷ user fr, no one can beat a mermaid
user HE FINALLY BAGGED THE GIRL!!
⤷ user took him over a year in the likes.. i feel so proud
user hold on... DOES ANYONE REMEMBER LUCY'S THREAD ABT THE BIRTHDAY PARTY IN JANUARY WITH Y/N AS MERMAID
⤷ user WAIT I THINK YOU'RE ACTUALLY ONTO SMTH
⤷ user are you saying that 'prince eric' is OSCAR MF PIASTRI???
⤷ user his sister is an icon if this is actually true
⤷ user someone give her an award for the greatest matchmaker of the decade (right after oscar and y/n receiving one of the greatest lovestory of the decade)
⤷ user childhood friends to lovers with a twist (only if the whole thing is true which i'm manifesting rn)
user my god the delusion some people have 💀
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taglist.@keyz-writes , @obsidianjewel , @aimixx , @themercyverse , @lem-hhn , @lupicalbestwolf , @akiraquote , @lilypadlover , @adorablezhui , @peqch-pie , @namgification
DO YOU WANT TO JOIN THE TAGLIST? please send a non-anon ask to be added to the taglist. taglist can be general taglist (all fandoms and all works), fandom taglist (all works within the fandom), series (all works for specific series) or nsfw taglist (all nsfw works and all fandoms).
crossed off tags mean i can't tag you!
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ARKHAM MAID 2024
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new hs history teacher(/basketball coach ofc) steve who is being shown around the school by gym teacher chrissy.
she takes him around the building to show him where the teacher's lounge is, the cafeteria, what bathrooms to avoid at all costs, and to where her office is if he ever needs anything.
"If I'm not here, I'm probably in Robbie's class over in the language department."
"Robbie?"
"Robin, my partner. She officially teaches ASL, but she likes to join in on the others' lessons whenever she has downtime."
Finally, once they've covered the whole length of the school, she brings him to his room. "So this is you, and right next door is Eddie, our Criminalistics teacher." gesturing to the still-dark window of the door directly across from his in the alcove. 
There's polaroids covering nearly every inch of the outside of the door, pictures of what he can only assume are students with the same dark-haired man.
"Criminalistics?"
"It's a science elective," she explains, "It focuses on the basics of forensic science!"
"Wow that’s…really?"
She nods enthusiastically, "It’s super interesting,” she nods, moving to unlock the empty what-will-be history classroom. “Eddie’s here on even days, and in the music room on odd days for the guitar elective classes."
"Anything I should know about my wall neighbor?" he asks as she pushes the door open.
It looks like she's going to say no, but something flickers across her face and she winces minutely.
"Oh god, what is it?"
She looks at him sheepishly, "How do you feel about metal music?"
--
Since his tour in mid June, Steve's completely overhauled his classroom. 
The only room available to him was the one down here in the science hall, but he made do, plastering removable whiteboard contact paper to the tops of the lab tables and a little reminder at each spot for the students about his less-than-stellar hearing, to make sure they speak up when answering a question from the back of the room.
And ever since he got his room, he'd been waiting for the day he finally meets his neighbor.
He met Chrissy's Robbie the same day he had the tour, and they clicked instantly (No seriously, how did he ever function before Robin?). Chrissy had made the comment about them being platonic soulmates one night in August when they'd gone out for one too many drinks, and it's stuck ever since.
Speaking of: "What are you still doing here, dingus? It's almost five."
"Yeah, I know, I know," he says, waving her off.
Robin comes in from the hall and plops herself down on one of the table tops instead of helping him hang a map behind his desk. "You're still adding stuff to your walls?"
"Well, I haven't been here for a couple years already, Bobs," he grits out as he stretches up on his toes to hang the far corner of his map. Finally, the eyelet hooks over the many-times-painted-over hook embedded in the concrete wall. "So yes."
"Well you can finish up tomorrow, we," she emphasizes the word by dramatically waving the same sign with her hand between them, "Have a burger date to get to." 
--
The following day, the day before the school year officially starts, Steve arrives early to his classroom, only to find his neighbor's classroom lit up as well.
The be-polaroided door is propped open all the way, the sound of heavy drums and guitar streaming out the door along with the faint smell of moth balls and a spicy incense.
His own room forgotten, Steve steps through Mr. Munson's doorway.
Eddie is standing behind his desk at the front of the room, but hunched over it scribbling onto something.
When Steve's shoe squeaks against the tile floor, Eddie says "Hey, what do you think, identifying skeletal remains, or blood spatter first?" without looking up at him.
"Skeletons, of course." Eddie's head snaps up to look at him. His huge dark eyes are much more striking in person than in a photo. "Much more interesting, yeah?"
Eddie blinks at him. "You're not Chrissy."
"You're correct."
Eddie blinks again, "Who're you?"
"Oh, sorry, hi. I'm Steve. I'm your new neighbor." he gives the other man an awkward wave when he still doesn't move. "Sorry, should I--" he says, gesturing over his shoulder with a thumb.
"No!" Eddie interrupts, standing straight and hurrying out from around his desk. 
He extends a hand and jogs lightly up to Steve. His pen is still laced into his fingers, the end of it chewed flat. "Oh shit, sorry, sorry," he tucks the pen behind his ear, "I'm Eddie. Munson."
"I know," Steve smirks, taking Eddie's hand. "I've been waiting to meet you."
"Oh have you?" he smirks.
"Yeah, Chrissy told me you're her best friend and I wanted your advice on maybe asking her out."
Eddie's face hardens immediately, the warm milk chocolate of his eyes curing into a solid dark, the easy smirk morphing into a cringe as he looks Steve up and down.
He opens his mouth to say something particularly scathing, Steve's sure, but he cuts him off before he can. "I'm kidding, man, I know she's with Robin."
His expression softens just a bit.
"Plus, she's not really my type anyway, even if I were hers."
"Oh?"
"Yeah, I'm more into brunettes." Steve winks, finally releasing Eddie's hand. "I still have a bit more to get done, but I'll check in with you later?"
"Oh--yeah, for sure, I'll be here." Eddie stammers out, his cheeks tinged pink.
Steve fist pumps in his head as he heads to his door, You still got it, Harrington.
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exhuastedpigeon · 2 months
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Hiatus Buddie Fic Rec - Month 2 June 16 - July 15
Here's the second rec list! Here's my favourite fics that I've read that were posted between June 16 and July 15
0-5k
if your heart wears thin by devirnis / @devirnisGen | 986 words He knows the shift was disheartening, but the little rain cloud of gloom that’s been hanging over Buck’s head since he fell in the water has Eddie mildly concerned.
You with the dark curls, you with the watercolour eyes by thewolvesof1998 / @thewolvesof1998
Mature | 1.6k The morning after Buck and Eddie finally get together.
Stuck On You by rosebuddiekin / @giddyupbuck
Teen | 2.5k Eddie jokingly gives Buck stickers that have positive saying on them, but it quickly gets out of hand.
Not A Trick of the Mind (Only Love) by Bookbee, JJK / @trenchcoatsandtimetravel & @painting--words
Teen | 4.2k Buck wakes up in hospital with amnesia and thinks Eddie is married to someone else.
I could spend the whole day just gettin' by by rowan_wood / @transboybuckley Gen | 4.4k “I’m sick,” Buck said, eyes closed, when he could sense Eddie reached the loft. (Sick fic)
Find a remedy by BladeoftheNebula Teen | 4.7 Buck and Eddie tell Christopher they're dating. It doesn't go well.
5k-10k
Of Sound Mind (And Memory) by henry988
Not rated | 6k In the hours after Buck is struck by lightning, Maddie is faced with retrieving the last will and testament of her brother, just in case. Together, with Eddie, they learn more about their brother and friend.
give me a sign, I want you next to me by 42hrb Teen | 7k The 118 knows Buck has a really cute kid and a partner he loves, they just think that partner is his husbands ex-wife.
we don't need to play games like these (you won me long ago) by withmeornotatall / @chronicowboy Explicit | 10.4k five times buck was turned on by Eddie's complete lack of rizz and the one time he realised what his new kink was for
10k-20k
you been looking for love (let me show you how it's done) by wikiangela / @wikiangela Explicit | 12.2k Eddie is a tease, Buck is horny and jealous of Eddie dating, and a regular evening takes an unexpected turn.
Sixth time's the charm by CorgiQueen14 Teen | 14.2k The mid-lawsuit time loop fic.
20k - 30k
in the night we trust by glorious_spoon / @glorious-spoon
Explicit | 29.2k Eddie and Buck start sleeping together when they're all stuck at Buck's place during lockdown. It still takes them almost three years to notice that they're in love.
30k +
i know you're gone now, but i'll still wait for you by roephobic Teen | 32.1k the one where Buck leaves and Eddie breaks down.
you and i'll be safe and sound by spaceprincessem / @spaceprincessem
Teen | 50.8k buddie hunger games au
Evan Buckley & The Coma-Verse of Madness by Daisies_and_Briars / @cal-daisies-and-briars Teen | 57.9k After being struck by lightning on a call, Buck experiences a plethora of alternate realities showing him different directions his life could have taken. Fighting hard to get home, Buck learns what, or who, is important to him in every lifetime.
i love you (and i like you) by withmeornotatall / @chronicowboy Explicit | 64.4k he parks and rec au in which buck is leslie and eddie is ben feat. gay penguins
a body, a knife, hold steady by bvckandeddie (zukkababey) / @bvckandeddie Mature | 67.4k Buck and Eddie meet, fall in love, build a life together, and discover they're rival assassins—exactly in that order.
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vickiee-mcmuffin · 7 months
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It's always been you
Word count: 3.8k
Pairing: Stephen Strange x Female Reader
Trope: Explicit Smut, Age gap (18+ Warning, Minors DNI)
A/N: Here's one of my old fics which is one of my favs. I've added some extra bits to the smut, so enjoy ;)
Summary: You're in a relationship with a guy called Luke after you were too scared to tell Stephen how you really felt about him. But one night, one thing leads to another when you go and talk to Stephen at the Sanctum.
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When you first arrived at Kamar Taj almost a year ago, it was Doctor Stephen Strange that you first met out of everyone. He was one of the masters there, after all, and despite that – you had fallen for him. Sometimes it felt like more than a crush, though, especially since you and Stephen grew closer and closer as time went by. You always assumed your crush would lead nowhere and you’d get over him, because there were days when you thought nothing would happen with you and Stephen. He was older than you; you were a good twenty years younger than him. Eventually, you decided to just date a guy who seemed a bit more attainable. That was when you met Luke. He was around your age, and you hoped that being with him would diminish the crush you had on Stephen – even though you were going to stay best friends with him.
But it didn’t take you long to realise that Luke wasn’t the man for you. He wasn’t always the best boyfriend. He seemed to only care about himself and his own pleasure, and it quickly got to you. There were days when it seemed like Stephen would listen to you more than your own boyfriend would. And whenever you told Stephen about your problems with Luke, he would always be so kind and caring.
And it was then that you realised that you loved Stephen. But fear got the best of you, and you weren’t ready to tell him the truth. You were convinced he didn’t even feel the same way back, anyway. Part of you was also scared to tell Luke that you wanted to end things. What if he freaked out and got angry?
You were officially stuck between a rock and a hard place.
******
It was early one evening and you found yourself laying on Luke’s bed. He wouldn’t even look at you, though. His eyes were stuck on his phone. As usual, he was paying no attention to you. But you were over it. If you were going to be with him, he would have to start acting like an actual boyfriend.
“Can you please just put your phone down and come cuddle with me?” you asked with a little pout.
But Luke said nothing. Whatever was on his phone seemed much more important.
“Luke,” you tried again. “Please just come cuddle with me.”
Luke grunted and rolled his eyes. “I heard you the first time, Y/N. I’m busy right now.”
“You barely ever give me any attention,” you said quietly. “It makes me upset. You’re always on your phone, talking to other people, when I’m right there.”
“Well, you’re always talking to Stephen,” snapped Luke.
“Uh, yeah. I talk to him because he actually listens to me.”
Luke chuckled. “I do listen to you.”
“When’s my birthday?” you suddenly asked him. It was a test. If he really, truly cared for you, then he would know that fact.
Luke shrugged. “July 9th.”
You shook your head, trying not to glare at him. “It’s June 9th. See. You don’t listen!”
And he didn’t even seem concerned with that as he tapped away on his phone. It hurt. It really did. And you found yourself with tears welling up in your eyes. You decided right then and there that you were going to talk to the person who actually listened to you. And that was Stephen.
You got off the bed in a huff, determined to get away from Luke. You stormed over to the door, yanking it open in a hurry.
“Where are you going?” Luke called out.
“It doesn’t matter,” you told him bluntly.
“I bet you’re going to him. At the Sanctum.” Luke’s voice was laced with an accusatory tone.
You didn’t answer. You just slammed the door shut, not caring that you were in your pyjamas. If Luke was going to treat you like that, then you were going to put some distance between the both of you. In a rush, you opened up a portal that would take you right to where Stephen would be. The New York Sanctum. You closed the portal behind you when you arrived and took quiet steps to Stephen’s room. Was he still awake? It was late. You hoped he was up.
When you got to his door you saw a small stream of light shining through. That was a good sign. You knocked on the door and heard some noise from behind it.
“Who’s there?” Stephen asked loudly.
“It’s me,” you responded.
“Come in!”
You pushed the door open, finding Stephen there in his robe and a thick book on his lap.
“Hey,” Stephen greeted you.
“Hi. Am I disturbing you?” you asked. That was the last thing you wanted to do.
“Not at all. What’s wrong?”
You sighed at the question. “Can I come and sit with you in the bed and tell you?”
“Of course.” Stephen pulled his blanket back, offering you a spot to sit.
You joined him on the comfortable bed, taking in the situation. You and Luke had just had a pretty nasty fight. And you hated the way he made you feel. You said nothing for a while, and neither did Stephen, until he finally broke the silence.
“What happened?” he asked.
You turned to look at him, noticing the worry on his face. You sucked in a sharp breath before starting your story. “Me and Luke just had a little argument.”
“Why?”
“I’ve just noticed that Luke doesn’t really pay attention to me. He wants to spend more time on his phone than he does with me.” As you said that, you could see Stephen shaking his head. “And earlier, I asked Luke if we could just cuddle. But all he did was ignore me.” The words got to you as you remembered the argument. Tears formed in your eyes yet again, your voice turning all soft.
“Don’t cry, sweetheart,” Stephen said quickly. He pulled you to him, letting you rest your head on his chest as he hugged you tight.
You pulled back a little to wipe at your eyes. “I’ve noticed during our whole relationship that he doesn’t really listen to me. He doesn’t show me that he cares about me.”
“I’ve noticed that too.”
Your eyes widened a little. “Really?”
Stephen nodded at you. “I’ve noticed how Luke upsets you. But I kept my mouth shut. I didn’t want to make you anymore upset. And I didn’t want to lose my best friend. I care about you, Y/N. So much. I love you. I love every part of you.”
Your head snapped to the side as you looked at Stephen, completely taken aback by what he had just said. Did he just…?
“What?” you asked with a whisper.
“Oh, shit,” he muttered, his eyes shutting for a second. He turned away from you, suddenly looking embarrassed.
“Stephen,” you called out to him.
He turned back around. Slowly. And there you saw his bright red cheeks.
“Is that true?” you wondered. “Did you really mean that?”
Stephen sighed loudly. “Yes. It’s true. And I’ve loved you ever since we first met. It broke my heart so much when I found out that you were with Luke. I kept my mouth shut because I just wanted to be happy for you. And I knew nothing could really happen between us, anyway. Because of our age gap…”
For a long time, you and Stephen just looked at each other. You were in the middle of taking in every word he just told you. His confession. But then you couldn’t help it when you sent him a teary-eyed smile. Reaching forward, you cupped his face with your hands. He smiled at you. A sweet, bright smile.
“I love you too. And I always have,” you whispered.
“Really?”
You nodded and leaned over to him, giving him a soft kiss. And then he kissed you back. And it was slow and moving and so, so perfect. But Stephen suddenly pulled away.
“What about Luke?” he asked you.
“Stephen, I’ve given Luke many opportunities. I’m done being treated second best,” you said confidently. You gave Stephen another kiss before eyeing him closely. “I’ve always loved you, Stephen. I’m sorry I was just too much of a coward to admit it.”
Stephen laughed lowly, rubbing at the back of his neck. “Well, that makes two of us then.”
You giggled right back at him before Stephen kissed you. It quickly grew heated, your tongue diving into Stephen’s mouth. His hands lowered and held your hips tight, pulling you right into his lap. Your lips broke apart for a split second, but Stephen wasted no time as he quickly pulled you back into a kiss.
Your arms quickly wrapped around his broad back, with Stephen mimicking the action as he held you nice and tight. Tongues dancing together, you suddenly felt something hard pressing into you. You had to pull away from Stephen when you realised what it was. You gasped, watching as Stephen blushed all over again.
“I’m sorry,” he said, voice all shy.
But you didn’t care. You kissed him fast and hard and noticed just how quickly Stephen kissed you back. Rocking your hips against his, you heard Stephen groan for you. The noise literally had you going weak right there in his arms, your centre growing wetter and wetter.
You kept kissing and rocking your hips, loving the sounds Stephen kept making. Those deep, guttural groans. But you pulled away from him so you could whisper out a request.
“Please make love to me,” you told him.
“Are you sure?” he asked with big eyes.
“I’ve never been so sure of anything in my life.” You meant every word.
Stephen kissed you softly before moving away from your mouth. “Okay.”
He shifted a little so that you were laying on the bed, while Stephen hovered above you. You shared another kiss before Stephen reached down, pulling off your top and exposing your breasts. He threw the top to the floor before he stared down at your breasts, taking them in. He stared at you, at your hard nipples. And then he blushed some more. You found it so adorable.
“You look so beautiful,” he said with a whisper. Then he leaned down, his warm lips kissing your skin. His lips ghosted over your nipples as he paid attention to each breast. Then he sucked one of your breasts into his mouth, moaning as a big hand grasped the other one.
The feeling had you whining. You reached down, raking a hand through Stephen’s thick locks. Your back arched for him, letting pleasure take over. You felt so wet. And it was all for Stephen. He stayed there, licking and sucking at your breast, before reaching down to pull down your pyjama bottoms and panties. They both hit the floor, and then you were completely and utterly exposed for Stephen. Every part of you was on show.
“Fuck,” Stephen hissed as he stared at you. “You’re so beautiful, Y/N.”
He moved down, kissing you hard and fast. Your tongues moved together wildly, but you had to see Stephen. You had to see him properly.
“I wanna see you too,” you said with a whine. “Please.”
“Alright, sweetheart.” He nodded. He got off the bed to stand up, slowly pulling off his robe, exposing his cock.
You literally gasped at what you were seeing. He was so hard. And so, so big. Thick too. You couldn’t wait to feel him deep inside of you.
Stephen got back on the bed and you wasted no time spreading your legs for him. Stephen then got settled in between your legs as he hovered above you. He kissed you softly, and while his mouth was so perfect, you needed him to take you already.
“Please fuck me,” you pleaded with him.
“Okay,” Stephen groaned. “But I’m gonna start off slow. I don’t want to hurt you.”
You smiled at how sweet and caring he was being. “Okay.”
Stephen gave you a soft kiss before grabbing his cock. He ran the tip up and down your wet slit a few times. The swollen tip of his cock was soon covered in your arousal. You let out a sharp moan when you felt Stephen press the head of his cock against your clit. It felt so good.
“Are you ready?” He asked, voice deep.
You nodded eagerly at him. Stephen watched you closely as he pressed the tip of his cock to your entrance, and then he slid right into you with absolute ease. You moaned in unison, and then Stephen buried his face in your neck as he pushed more of his cock into you. You quickly wrapped your arms around him, wanting to feel him close. You could hear Stephen groaning into your ear when he filled you up, right to the hilt as he bottomed out. The noise had you clenching around him.
“Fuck,” Stephen moaned out.
“Are you okay?” you quickly asked.
Stephen moved so that he could stare down at you. His cheeks were so red. “Yes. You just feel so good wrapped around my cock.”
You gave him a quick kiss. “Please move. Please.”
Stephen’s eyes were stuck on you as he began to move his cock. He was moving slowly, but the pleasure was still there and had you letting out little moans. You dragged your nails across his skin, digging into him. But you had to have more.
“Please move faster,” you begged. “Please.”
Stephen did. He thrusted into you that little bit faster and harder, and you couldn’t help it when you let out a long moan. The sound filled the room right up. You couldn’t believe how good he was making you feel. The pleasure was so new to you, and you had no idea that sex could feel so good.
Stephen kept moving in and out of you, his cock stretching you out. He was moving fast and hard and it was exactly what you needed.
“Oh, please don’t stop!” you let out.
“I’m not gonna stop.” He leaned down, giving you a rushed kiss that you eagerly returned. Stephen placed his hands on either side of your head and suddenly began to just pound into you wildly.
“Stephen!” you whined out. “Mm, fuck me just like that!”
Your shaky hands reached down as you grabbed at the blankets, pulling at them as Stephen took you hard and fast and so, so deep. Your knuckles literally turned white as you grabbed at the blankets, getting lost in the pure pleasure that Stephen was giving you. The sound of skin hitting skin filled the room and you loved every second of it.
Stephen suddenly pushed his cock into you nice and deep. The swollen tip of his cock was pressing up against that sweet, sensitive spot – a spot no one had ever reached before.
“Mm, your cock feels so good,” you cried out.
“Fuck.” Stephen suddenly lowered his body, pressing up against you tightly.
You kissed each other hard and fast; all the while Stephen kept hitting that spot again and again. You circled your arms around his back and let out a long moan when you realised that your orgasm was quickly forming. It was something you had never felt before. You needed it so bad.
“You’re gonna make me cum,” you whined out. Stephen was fucking you so good. He knew exactly how to touch you. Exactly how to make you feel good, and you knew you were going to meet your orgasm any second now.
That seemed to trigger something in Stephen, because he began to pound into you wildly from above. You kept crying out, letting Stephen know just how good he was making you feel. Your back arched as that wild feeling grew more and more. You kept moaning, unable to believe how good you were feeling – and how it was Stephen of all people who was making you feel so good. And then the feeling hit you. Your orgasm. It hit you hard and fast and you lost it right there on Stephen’s cock.
“Oh, Stephen!” you moaned out, letting your orgasm take over your body. It felt so good. You were growing wetter and wetter by the second, letting Stephen pound right into you.
Stephen fucked you right through your orgasm. He was dragging out the pure pleasure, allowing you to feel every second of it. He groaned deeply, and you had a feeling it was because your pussy was clenching right around Stephen, pulling him deeper and deeper into you.
He kept pounding into you and you suddenly felt something else growing. Another orgasm. But it felt so much stronger than the one you just had. It was building up, second by second, the heat just growing the more Stephen fucked you. And he was fucking you so good, so hard. He seemed to be entirely focused on your pleasure alone, his cock stretching you out and filling you up at just the right angle yet again.
“Stephen, please keep moving,” you whined as he kept on thrusting his cock into you. “Oh, fuck. I think I’m going to…”
"Just let go, sweetheart," Stephen told you.
After those words left his mouth, you felt yourself coming undone. You couldn’t say anything. All you did was scream loudly as you came a second time, the feeling driving you wild. You were gushing right around Stephen’s length, making you feel so wet between your thighs. It was something you had never felt before, and you kept feeling yourself getting wetter the more Stephen fucked you. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head and you saw white, your ears ringing. All you could feel was complete and total pleasure as you felt your body shaking. Stephen was dragging out that wonderful feeling with his cock, like he wanted to make sure that your orgasm was lasting as long as possible.
You whined and cried out, eyes shut tight as your strong orgasm hit you. You still didn’t say anything and instead just let out sounds of pleasure, your breathing unsteady as Stephen fucked you good and hard.
Eventually, the wonderful feeling faded, and you found yourself letting out soft whines as Stephen kept moving in and out of you, his cock twitching inside of you.
“I’m gonna cum,” he muttered out.
“Mm, you can cum inside of me,” you whispered, wanting to feel him lose himself inside of you. “I’m on the pill. Please cum inside of me. Please.” You needed it. You had to have Stephen – every part of him.
It seemed as if that was all Stephen needed to hear, because a second later, he was giving you a few more deep thrusts before letting out the deepest of groans. And then he came. He came right there inside of you, filling you up. He lost all control, giving you every drop of cum he had to offer.
He was panting wildly as he pushed in and out of you. Soon his breathing settled and he laid down next to you on the bed. You were in the middle of catching your breath too. You were still trying to process what just happened with you and Stephen.
Stephen seemed to get his breathing back on track and got up. He put his robe on and then headed off into another room. He came back with a washcloth in hand. You laid there, body still shaking a little, as Stephen cleaned you up gingerly.
"Did you know you squirted?" Stephen asked you as he cleaned up your sensitive area gently.
You stared at him for a long moment before you shook your head. That must have been what you were experiencing earlier when you felt so wet between your thighs.
"No, no man has ever made me do that before... Until you of course," you told Stephen and he sent you a smile before winking at you. He then stood up and made his way back over to the other room to put the washcloth back.
After he returned from putting the washcloth back, he climbed back into bed with you and covered you with the warm blankets.
“Are you okay?” he asked lowly.
“I’m okay.” You nodded at him. You moved over to Stephen, laying down on his broad chest as he wrapped an arm around you. It felt so good to have him cuddle you, to have him hold you close.
It was quiet for a while. And you figured that Stephen just wanted to get some sleep, but then he broke the silence.
“So, when do you plan on telling Luke that your relationship is over?” he asked.
It was a good question. Shifting slightly, you looked up at Stephen. “I’ll probably tell him tomorrow, I guess. If he listens to me, that is. He barely even listens to me when I’m talking. He probably won’t even listen to me when I finally break up with him.”
“Does Luke listen to you about anything?” Stephen asked with a furrowed brow. He looked offended on your behalf.
You shook your head at him. “I don’t think so. He doesn’t even know when my birthday is. And he doesn’t know the stuff I like, or the stuff I don’t like.”
Stephen’s eyes widened. “How could he not remember that your birthday is the 9th of June? Or that your favourite flowers are roses? Or that you hate spicy food?” There was such disbelief in Stephen’s voice, like he couldn’t even process the fact that Luke didn’t know those things about you.
You looked at Stephen for what felt like an hour. You were in total shock. How was it that your boyfriend didn’t know any of that stuff, but Stephen did? Stephen knew you better than your boyfriend did. Better than anyone else, it seemed.
“How… How do you know all of that?” you finally let out, your voice a bit shaky. Your mind was still a little hazy from your love making session.
Stephen just smiled at you. “I actually listen to everything you tell me.”
You returned his smile. It was big and bright, and that was because you were experiencing full, pure joy. You kissed Stephen softly and slowly, loving the way he gently kissed you back. You were right where you belonged. Right there with the man who actually knew you. You were so lucky that the two of you had found each other – even with the Luke hurdle that had been thrown your way. But he could be dealt with later.
“I love you, Stephen Strange,” you said with a whisper.
“I love you too, Y/N,” he said, his voice laced with what you could only describe as pure love. You and Stephen laid there together, wrapped up in each other’s arms. Your eyes fluttered shut as pure exhaustion took over. But you were truly over the moon that it was Stephen that you were with. Because he was the one who listened to you. He was the one who cared for you. And he was the one who loved you.
And you loved him just as much.
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Tag list: @butchers-girl @azu21 @polytheatrix @lucimorningst4r @evelyn-kingsley @withalittlehoney @mirikusashes @bobateadaydreams @strangelockd @thealleydog @cemak @stewardofningishzida @smokeywhalee @floatingfireflies @iamsherlocked1479 @icytrickster17 @asherloki @alice-bcmf @aphroditesdilemma @strangesthirdeye @rmoonstoner @stephenswh0re
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delopsia · 4 months
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Ok so I’m assuming Rhett is 30 ish because Lewis is 30 (almost 31 in like a month) but like Rhett with reader who is younger than him by a good number of years (reader being 23 at youngest probably) what’s the relationship like? Was he super reluctant at first because of the gap? How do we meet him? How does the family feel? What if he’s her first “real” boyfriend? How would he react to reader asking him to take their v card?
When I tell you that this has been stuck in my head since you sent me this, oh my GOD. I've been meaning to write this concept with Rhett and Bobby for over a year and keep forgetting to 🤤 I got a little carried away. Hope y'all don't mind 🤍
Canonically, Rhett is twenty-four, but I think we as a collective have chosen to ignore that 💃 here's my proof post on that, if you're curious 💕 TLDR: Rhett was born June 12th, 1996, and OR S1 takes place in November 2020
For the sake of this post, I'll just leave it and say he's noticeably older than the reader ✨ I don't want to set a specific age for him and accidentally exclude someone :(
I like to view an older version of Rhett as someone who's still into the rodeos; he's gotten up there in the bull riding ranks, and though he's a year or two away from aging out of it, he's still up there kicking ass when you first encounter him. It's your first time coming to this rodeo, and you're not sure what to think when you see him leaned up against the fence in that quiet, rugged glory so many cowboys seem to carry. Older than the rest of the riders, so jaded by buckle bunnies that he hardly notices the ones trying to get his attention.
The first time you walk past him, he lifts the corner of his lip and nods his head toward you as if to say hello. Some simple little thing that gets you smiling, hoping to high heaven that your friends don't notice the sudden weakness in your knees. Three Sundays in a row, you go to the rodeo with your friends, and three Sundays in a row, you walk past him on your way to the food trucks. Three Sundays in a row, he smiles and nods his head at you.
You think he's just being nice.
Rhett just thinks you're hot.
But he's too tired of entertaining relationships with folks who only want him for what lurks beneath his championship buckle and to tell all their friends they fucked a real cowboy. It was fun when he was younger, but after a while, like most things, it gets old.
So when he sees you at the bar after a rodeo one night, he doesn't think too much about it. Sneaks a few glances at you out the corner of his eye, sure, quietly wondering how pretty his name would sound coming out of your mouth, but that's it.
Until some hotshot decides that he's going to give you hell while your friends are in the bathroom. And Rhett's within the perfect earshot to get rightfully pissed off. He's not particularly one to get into someone else's business, but he's also not too fond of this whole "badger someone 'till they give what you want" technique the younger boys have been employing recently.
"'s this guy botherin' ya?" He asks, in that gravelly voice, his elbow propping against the bar, speaking to you but his eyes never once leaving the steer wrestler giving you trouble. He's got a history with this kid; this isn't their first confrontation.
Of course, you don't know that when the younger man goes nose-to-nose with Rhett. But oh, if it doesn't make you the slightest bit dizzy when Rhett's jaw hardens at your meek 'yes.'
He only means to scare the guy off and go back to watching his buddy eat shit at the pool table, but your friends are taking forever to come back, and he's found himself offering to sit with you until they do. You're asking his name, and he's ashamed to admit that his heart jumps at the sound of his name on your tongue.
You don't seem to care all that much about the age difference, and Rhett's got no reason to be concerned; your age doesn't end in 'teen,' and you can legally drink, but he's found himself a touch hesitant to flirt with you. Isn't all that fond of breaking his heart over another sweetheart who stumbled into Wabang.
But you just keep running into each other. You're in line with him at a food truck; he sees you at a rodeo bonfire and chats you up until your friends are begging to head home. He's given you his number, and he's catching himself looking for you at the end of his rides.
And then he's busting his left shoulder after a ride, and somehow, he's found himself outside of the ambulance, being backed up against a wall as you kiss him hard on the mouth. It's the first kiss he's had in years, and your hands on his big chest are the sweetest thing he's ever felt. It's everything, and it takes every ounce of his will to draw your hand off of his belt buckle.
"Y' don't wanna do that," his whispered warning drips off his tongue like honey, and oh do you want a taste, "'m 'fraid if I let ya have me, I might follow ya 'round for the rest of my life."
He really doesn't know what to do when you smile and ask, "But what if that's what I want?"
How he survived that, he doesn't know. But a kiss-filled conversation ends in him agreeing to take you on a real, proper date. He takes you to Odessa's diner for lunch, pulls your chair out for you, and never lets you touch a door, and he gets along with you so well. It helps a lot that he's been on a funky little life path that has given him many of the same experiences as you. There's an age gap, sure, but his stage of life isn't too different from your own. Especially because he was a bit of a late bloomer with this whole 'adult' thing. The perks of being emotionally stunted by Royal...
Rhett doesn't differ that much if he's your first boyfriend; he's sickeningly sweet, regardless. No amount of experience or inexperience will stop him from going all out on you; if there's one thing his momma did, it was raise him right. You might as well be royalty. That being said, he's happy to take the lead (or give it up) depending on your experience level.
The relationship isn't all that different from how it would be if he was your age. There are some generational references that take time to understand, and Rhett's age shows the most when you try teaching him to use Instagram, but that's a given. He's a little bit smug when you're with him in public, especially at rodeos. He knows he's struck gold, and he intends to show you off as much as you're comfortable with. Protective, too. Those bull riders know better than to linger and try their luck with you. More times than you can count, you've overheard the whispered warning, "That one's Rhett's."
Rolls his eyes when you (affectionately) call him old man...
To be fair, Rhett does try to wait until a few weeks into your relationship to start getting intimate; he wants to take things slow with you, but then you're cupping him through his jeans, and he's breathless as you massage him through the fabric. And when you sit in his lap, wrap your arms around his broad shoulders, and grind your ass down into him? He's a goner.
If you're a virgin, then he's extra careful with you. Takes some more time to draw your clothes off, slow as he kisses down your belly until he can run his tongue up your sweet little pussy. But he's obscene about it, regardless. Groaning around your clit, letting you yank on his hair all you need. Frustrates you to no end because you're trying so hard to get him to fuck you, and all he wants to do is eat you out. Four times. Four times, you rile him up, and the most progress you make is getting his jeans off. He doesn't mean to upset you, he's just a whore for giving oral.
Until that one time at the bar when you hauled him into a bathroom stall, dropped to your knees, and wrapped your mouth around him before he could get under your skin.
That got him. You couldn't take all of him, gagging every time his plush tip hit the back of your throat, but his knees were shaking. Moans muffled by the palm of his hand. Trying his best to pull you off when he came and damn near hit the floor when you instead chose to swallow him down.
Again, if you're a virgin, then there isn't a huge difference in how he treats you when he takes your virginity. Not out of impatience or anything of the sort, but it's your first time together. He's going to treat you like a virgin regardless. Overusing the lube as he introduces you to a thick, calloused finger, watching your reaction for the slightest hint of pain. "'s this hurt? No? You sure?"
Annoyingly pushes the tip of his cock against you, then lets it slide through your folds, obsessed with the sight of it. But just as you're going to complain, he finally nudges inside, and it silences you completely.
If there is one thing about Rhett Abbott, it's that he's huge in more ways than one. Splitting you open in all the right ways, big hands stroking up and down your skin, whispering the filthiest things into your ears. "Think 'm almost too big for your lil pussy, angel." "Shhh, we'll make it fit. Jus' relax 'round me." "'s that feel good, sweetheart? Y' like bein' stretched 'round my cock like that?"
He ruins you either way. You never pegged yourself to be this insatiable, riding him in his truck, fucking him outside the bar, in bathroom stalls, cheap hotel rooms, bending over the hood of his truck while he had a flat tire. It's not your fault; Rhett's just that damn good, and he's somehow able to match you entirely. Rolls his eyes a little, sure, but he's just doing that to annoy you. "This old man fucks you that good, hm? Cute little pussy ain't satisfied 'till I pump it nice 'n full of my cum?"
Sometimes, he tells you he's too tired for sex and then turns around and pounces on you because he heard you whimper once and had a second burst of energy.
Which...is how your relationship gets found out. He's left a mark on your collar, and at some point, you bend down to pick up a fork you dropped, and it gets noticed. So you either got in a fight with a vacuum cleaner and lost, or you have a little someone.
The worst part is telling everyone how old he is. Rhett's got this funny charm where he looks younger than he actually is, and it nearly makes someone choke at the dinner table. And Rhett's not the best with people, but he's quick to make a good impression. He's like a fine wine; he's gotten better as he's aged.
You'll likely never meet Rhett's family, and if you do, it's a handful of times for no longer than two hours. After Rhett moved out, there's been tension every time he sees his folks. He was supposed to stay and spend his life helping the ranch, to honor his family loyalties, not run off and find love in someone else. Cecelia's sweet, doesn't say anything about the age gap, so long as you're both happy. Royal...you don't know what he said, but you had to grab Rhett by the belt to reign him in.
All that being said, Rhett's a sweetheart to you, regardless of your age gap. There are some differences that wouldn't be there if he was your age, but he's keen to work on those things together. Rhett doesn't fall in love often, but when he does, he falls hard, and he's going to give you the world. Even if you do call him old man every now and then.
Like I said...I got carried away
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Guile & Guilt
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Your best friend has warned you to stay far, far away from her younger brother — infamous party boy, Sergeant Johnny MacTavish. However, when she asks you to be her maid of honor in her wedding, you and Johnny end up closer than you ever expected.
Soap x Reader AU
Link to AO3
JUNE
You shouldered your backpack as you waited in the aisle of the train, sleep-deprived and hungry. When Hamish had called you to let you in on his little surprise, your heart had leapt in your chest for your best friend, Brigette MacTavish. She and Hamish had been together for nearly two years, and he had finally worked up the nerve to pop the question.
Brigette thought Hamish was just coming over for a Sunday roast, but you were showing up as the red herring. While she was distracted and fussing over you, Hamish could quietly panic until dinner was served, and you could take the pictures. You were glad to help him, you really were, and the MacTavish cottage was only an hour outside of Glasgow, so you didn’t mind, but your work had been exhausting lately, and your body ached for your own bed.
You hailed a cab on the app and waited in the cool night air for your ride to arrive. It was a cold one, and your Floridian bones weren’t used to it yet, even after five years of graduate school at the University of Glasgow. You were a Shakespeare scholar, and you loved every moment. It was just more demanding than ever, and you could barely meet the deadlines as it was. Now, you had a wedding to help plan, and you were torn between excitement and stress.
A clean Saab pulled into the gravel lot of the train station, and a cheery old man popped his head out,
“Where to, lass?”
The cabbie smelled like coffee and smoke as you climbed inside. You handed him a slip of paper with her house number on it,
“Old Kilpatrick, please. Here’s the address.”
A quick ride and you were dropped off at your destination, eager to see Ham and Pidge. Brigette hated her nickname, but it had stuck to her like glue. Her younger brother, Johnny MacTavish, had given it to her ever since he was a little boy, unable to fully form the proper sounds until it was too late. Pidge caught on like wildfire, and there was no escape.
Johnny was famous for making trouble around these parts. You’d never met the man, but you’d probably slept in his room more often than he had in the past year. When you stayed over with Pidge, you slept in his bed and wore his old, soft Rangers football tees. But, Johnny was a sergeant in the SAS, and he never took leave. When he did have to come home, his sister would complain about him staying in strangers’ beds instead of his own. She’d warned you from the start,
“Don’t look my wee brother in the eye, or he’ll hypnotize you like he does to every lass who comes within six feet of him.”
Pidge called Johnny a playboy, a womanizer, and a lush. She smacked him on the back of his head when he came home with another hickey on his neck, and by the time he went back to his deployment, Brigette said she had to chase the women out of the front garden like stray cats looking for their Tom.
“Promise me you won’t touch Johnny boy without gloves and a hazmat suit.”
You’d always promised you wouldn’t get involved with her brother. It seemed like an easy enough promise to keep with a man who was never home. His photos were few and far between, but it was obvious there wasn’t a girl north or south of Hadrian’s wide wall who would turn him down. Johnny’s boyish grin, his striking blue eyes, and his devilish mohawk made for a terrifying triple threat. Combine that with the body of a Spartan warrior and he was a sure weapon. Lucky for you, you were certain he’d never even look your way.
You knocked on the MacTavishes’ door and waited for her to crack it open for you. When she did, she looked astonished, but she wasted no time in hugging you around the neck and squealing with delight.
“What are you doing here, babe? I thought Hamish was takin’ the piss when he said you were on your way, haverin’ on about settin’ three plates for dinner. Come in! Come in, ya dafty. Give us your bags. Go on. I’ll put ya up in Johnny’s room,” she shooed you into the parlor and yanked the backpack from you, strong as hell for her small size.
You found Hamish in the kitchen, minding the potatoes, testing them with a fork to see if they were done.
“Hammy! Show it to me right this second, or else,” you laughed, whispering as low as you could.
His wide, bright smile was framed by his full, dark brown lips, and his deep skin gleamed. He was glowing like a virgin, and just about as nervous as one.
“Okay, but quick as you can,” he tugged the ring from his pocket and showed it to you.
Hamish’s hands trembled, and you clutched his palm in yours, shaking your head
“It’s beautiful. She’s going to love it.”
He smiled at you with joy and gratitude, but as soon as you heard Pidge coming down the stairs, he pocketed the ring as fast as he could, turning back to the food, nervously stirring potatoes that didn’t need to be stirred.
You poured a generous glass of wine for you and your hosts, making sure Brigette was distracted until dinner was served. You caught up on all the latest gossip. Pidge was the primary source for the juiciest news. As a librarian, people from all over would come to tell her things that they probably shouldn’t have told anyone, ever. And when a new romance novel came out, Pidge had the scoop on just how spicy it was. A five alarm fire on Pidge’s scale was a hard score to achieve, but the books that earned it, really fucking earned it.
“…and apparently, while she was out with Pink Shoes’ mister, the Skateboard Dad was out with Pink Shoes! Can you believe it?”
All of her gossipers had codenames. She was mindful about privacy, but you’d been hearing about these people’s dirty laundry for so long, it felt like you knew them well enough to come around for Christmas dinner.
“Here we are, ladies,” Hamish set down your heaping plate and slowly sat in his chair, looking like he’d seen a ghost between the oven and the fridge. You smiled at him, sending the strongest vibes you could with your smile, praying for him to hold it together.
He didn’t.
“Actually,” the noise of his chair scooting back away from the table was grating and a bit of a shock, but when he paused, it was dead silent. He continued, “Brigette, babe, I just…I want to say that, um, I don’t…uh…”
Pidge looked concerned. Her bright blue eyes gleamed as she gazed at her tall, dark, and handsome boyfriend. She dropped her fork and turned to face him, giving him her full attention. He was a full professor of biology and very rarely was he inarticulate. She checked on him,
“What is it, darling? What’s wrong?”
He shook his head, grabbing her hands in his, bending down on one knee so he could be eye-level with her,
“Brigette. It’s quite obvious to me that I can’t live another moment without you. Please, say you’ll marry me before I come apart like a total idiot.”
“Hamish! What?” She was beaming, but still a little confused and shocked by his proposal.
You were catching the entire moment on your phone, trying to keep your hand from shaking with excitement as you did so, holding in your joy. Hamish pulled the ring from his pocket and Brigette gasped, all of the air left her lungs in a shaky sigh, and she began to sob. It was the most picturesque response, and you couldn’t have been happier for her.
After she had hugged him around the neck a hundred times, gasping and laughing as he told her his secrets and showed her your texts, she threw herself into your arms. Her hair was soft in the way that a girl’s hair was supposed to be, and you wondered if yours would ever feel that way. She smelled like the sun and old books, warm and nostalgic.
“God! I cannae believe you kept this from me! You’ve got the worst poker face. I never thought you’d be able to stand it,” she pinched your arm, gently teasing you.
“I know,” you admitted, “It wasn’t easy. Hamish had to talk me down from the ledge more than once.”
“Well, you’ll be my maid of honor, of course!” She squealed, pausing for a moment, remembering how busy you were, “Right, babe?”
You nodded, already thinking about the sleepless nights and missed deadlines,
“Of course!”
Hamish took your plates after you were done eating, and his warm voice boomed from the kitchen,
“This calls for champagne, right, ladies?”
He received two very loud “yes” shouts in agreement. You drank and talked until it was well past midnight, and with a goodnight hug, you sent the lovebirds to bed.
In your room (his room), you dug through Johnny’s old tee shirt drawer. You loved staying with Pidge, because her brother had the softest tee shirts in the world. Sleeping in them was like a buttery, smooth, transcendent experience and you were glad he wasn’t around to stop you from wearing them. You’d be mortified if he found out, but he was off in some terror-filled Green Zone, and these big, glorious tees were just languishing here unused.
You quickly spotted your favorite. It was a blue Rangers shirt made to look like a jersey with the name McCoist on the back. You clutched it to your chest, inhaling the smell of oranges and clove, mixed with some other human scent you couldn’t quite place. The sheets smelled just like it, too. You kept forgetting to ask Pidge what detergent she used.
The shirts he had in his old dresser were so big on you, you imagined he must have been tall his whole life, and wide. You never wore anything underneath, savoring the sensations of the fabric all over your body and reveling in it. You threw your hair into a high bun and padded back into the kitchen to get a warm cup of sleepytime tea before calling it a night.
You put the kettle on and opened the cabinet to reach for your favorite tea box, stretching up so that the shirt barely skated across the edge of your ass cheeks.
Then, you heard a low wolf whistle. Your heart stopped beating. You turned around as slowly as you could, paralyzed.
There was a man looming in the foyer in black riot gear, hoisting two huge rucksacks over his shoulder, staring right at you. You gasped, wanting to scream but no sound was coming out.
He stepped toward you. His eyes were blue, just like Brigette’s, but he was so very tall. His muscles were huge, bursting from his sleeveless tank and stretching out of his gear vest. Covered in guns and canisters and ammunition of all kinds, he looked absolutely terrifying. On his head, he had a shaggy, grown-out mohawk, laying flat and unstyled. His eyes were blackened with soot. When he glared at you, you thought you might melt to the floor in fear, until he opened his mouth,
“You’re a pretty little thief, you are. Better gimme back my favorite shirt, hen, if you know what’s good for you.”
“Johnny?” You hoped beyond measure that you had matched old photos to this new, dangerously handsome face.
He halted his approach, his features softening immediately, reminding you of the pictures of him you had a habit of studying in the hallway.
“Yeah…who are you, lass?”
You told him your name, and he nodded,
“Ah, Pidge won’t shut up about you. What are you doin’ here a’ this hour? I just got in from my tour. Got a note from Hammie that it was urgent.”
Johnny dropped his bags and came closer to join you in the kitchen. The soft light from the stove cast delicate shadows over his bright eyes and golden skin. He looked like a dream. He reached toward you and you flinched. A low, sarcastic chuckle resonated in his chest,
“Easy. Just keepin’ the kettle from keenin’.”
Studying you like an explorer in a new land, his eyes watched your every move, as if trying to memorize your skin like a map. He moved the steaming pot to a cold burner and you watched as the white hissing clouds died back down. You decided to break the ice, smiling knowingly at him,
“Good to finally meet you, Johnny. I’ve heard…so much about you.”
He took your hand in his and shook it once, dropping it and grabbing his own tea bag from the cabinet, plopping yours and his in their respective cups. It was an easy reach for him, and he grinned,
“It’s all lies. So, what’s the craic? What was so urgent?”
“Hamish proposed,” you said, watching his mouth fall open in shock.
“You’re takin’ the piss.”
“No, it’s true. Look,” you showed him the video.
The way his eyes gleamed, full of emotion, as he watched his sister agree to Hamish’s proposal was breathtaking. Surely this was not the same Johnny famous for accidentally inviting his two flings to the same Christmas dinner. He didn’t seem like the type.
Then, the sergeant leaned in closer to you, situating his enormous shoulder behind yours, getting a closer look at your screen, and you could smell him. That familiar, delicious, earthy citrus made you fall apart. It was nearly edible, and the fact that it emanated from such an attractive man made it that much more intense. No wonder he had women crawling all over him. The thoughts that invaded your mind made you blush.
His smile was back, and you never wanted it to leave,
“Tha’s fuckin’ brilliant. She’s asleep?”
He didn’t wait for your answer. Treading off down the hall, he knocked on Brigette’s door. You couldn’t see them, but you heard her answer it, the wood was creaking and popping from age and weight.
“Johnny boy? Is that you, you fuckin’ numpty!? Brother,” your friend’s voice was muffled as if she was crushed to his wide chest, “I’m getting married.”
“Let’s see it, then, Pidge.”
There was a span of silence, and then you heard him say in a low tone, unaware that his voice was carrying down the hall,
“You put a fit lassie in my shirt as a part of the occasion, or…?”
The sound of a slap on a heavy body reverberated along the wall, then a dark warning,
“You. Will. Not -“
“I dinnae ken what you’re abusin’ me for, Pigeon! I’m a saint!”
“Johnathan Fergus Euan MacTavish, she’s off-limits! You’ll not lay a hand on that girl’s pretty wee head, or I swear on Mother Mary and all the actual fuckin’ saints…”
“No promises, Pidge. If she wasn’t such a smoke show, you might have had a dog in the fight, but a gorgeous wee hen making tea in my kitchen wearing my fuckin’ shirt; it’s enough to make a lad start sinnin’.”
“Start! Tell me when you stopped. Is she out there? Oh, fuckin’ hell, you arsehole.”
You heard footsteps. You spun around and pretended to fuss with the tea.
“Babe! You met Johnny?” Pidge looked red in the face, and Johnny looked redder.
“Yeah, just came home. Showed him the video,” you shrugged.
“Great, this is just great,” Pidge forced a smile onto her face, and you got the sense that this was anything but great.
After not a small amount of insisting, you ended up in his bed and he slept on the sofa. So, when you awoke in the morning to the heavy weight of a body sinking into the mattress, you jolted up, thinking that he’d come to start sinning with you and you’d have to somehow find the inner strength to fight him off. Pidge would kill you both. Based on her reaction last night, you knew it in your bones.
But, he wasn’t even looking at you. He was sitting on the edge, digging in the side table for his phone charger. He tugged on the jumble of wires and acted surprised when you groaned out a quiet,
“G’Morning…”
“Ah, hey, lass. Sorry to wake you. Goin’ down to the shops for coffees. I always -”
“You bring them to Pidge your first morning back, I know. She told me,” you smiled and then smiled wider when he looked overjoyed with your knowledge of his fraternal lore.
“Pidge mentioned that?”
You nodded,
“Yeah, she loves it.”
He looked…healed, somehow, like you’d added space into his heart.
“Well, you’re part of the tradition now, so what’s your order?”
“Really?”
He rolled his eyes, feigning impatience. You laughed and answered him,
“Chai latte, please. Let me give you some money, hang on…”
You started to dig below the bed to find your bag, but he was already walking out the door,
“Back in two shakes, bonnie.”
As the door clicked closed, you lay in the man’s bed, in his room, in his house, in his shirt, and you wondered what exactly you’d gotten yourself into. It had been all fine and proper when he was just a cute face in a picture frame, but now that you could feel his heat and see his eyes looking at you, and hear that warm voice - and gods, his scent…
“Shit,” you said to nobody and everybody at the same time.
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Chapter 02
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kkydult · 4 months
Text
— Leave it to me
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coworker!myung jaehyun x fem!reader - fluff - 1.47k
a/n. the ending might be a bit rough i wrote it well at first then forgot to save so i kinda just tried to make it work. anyways i hope y’all enjoy this don’t hesitate to tell me you don’t i want feedback !!
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“Get these done by this afternoon y/n, I need them in my office before 2.” the thud of the stack of documents landing on your desk brought your attention up to your boss’s eyes, with a swift eye smile he had left your front giving you the responsibility to figure out what exactly you were to do with the unfamiliar pile.
It made sense, of course you had to work on your own and figure shit out yourself but a little guidance would help get the work done faster because now you were just stuck at your desk examining the files for the possible task. And by now it was too late to go to his office and inquire so you just played a guessing game with yourself.
“You seem… lost” you turned over to the voice coming from the other side of the room, you had left your desk for the photocopy room but you still felt unsure, standing close enough to the machine for it to seem like you were doing something but actually doing nothing. Jaehyun was there by the door with two cups in his hands, an apologetic smile on his face somehow relieving you of all the built up stress, of all the people in the office he was the one you felt at ease with, even when you felt lost like this.
Without you having to explain the situation he handed you one of the cups in his hands placing the other down as he looked quickly through the documents you were assigned, you scanned his face to get any signs of understanding on his side.
“Here.” you looked over to where he was gesturing, finally understanding the task as you read across the line so conveniently written in the smallest font, “I’m starting to think he’s plotting against you y/n” he laughed as you started sorting out the work you were assigned, you turn over to him smiling in agreement almost shocked he could see it too.
“I’ve been saying this! I don’t even know why I’ve barely done anything to get him mad” you added complaining freely to him, his eyes locked on you paired with a soft sympathetic smile, he always had that look when you started to blabber it made you feel heard like you could tell he was listening and acknowledging your thoughts at the same time.
“Don’t even worry about it I’ll make sure he never succeeds, I’m your guy” he reassured you and that was enough for you, just the words because you knew he meant them. “You’re my guy?” you asked playfully, it was routine you teased each other constantly and that was part of the office fun with Jaehyun, who else would make you wear a santa hat to work on an average day in June if not him?
“Yeah I’m all yours y/n” he smiled sheepishly leaning in closer, he was only a few inches closer but it felt like one wrong move and your lips would touch but you couldn’t move like some part of you wanted one wrong move but in a matter of seconds he was inches away and your heart was still thundering in your chest as you turned back to your work. You tried to find words to fill the silence that settled in but it just brought you back to his lips.
“I still got a lot to get back to, I’ll head out first” he finally spoke clearing his throat before the words followed, you nodded glancing at him right as he walked out.
The rest of the day you just acted as if nothing had happened, you figured it was the best way to proceed since nothing had happened but it was harder than you expected, almost like something switched in that one moment, all of a sudden every feeling you felt towards him came back to one thing that most people would describe as love, at least that’s how your coworkers saw it.
“Wait you guys aren’t dating?” Jaehyun’s desk neighbor, Hyein asked visibly shocked by the statement, you shook your head confused as to why that was even a thought,
“Everyone says you’re dating. I’m pretty sure Jaehyun even confirmed it… then again he could have been joking again” she explained as she leaned on your desk trying to figure out the situation while you were still stuck on the fact that you’ve been basically dating Jaehyun in the eyes of all your colleagues,
“Why would you think we were dating?” she looked at you with obvious concern her brows furrowed as she pursed her lips, your eyes widened at her reaction expecting anything but that,
“I can’t believe I have to explain this but you guys are so undeniably meant for each other, you literally don’t laugh at other people’s jokes and luckily for you he literally only jokes for you, like seriously he literally is a stone statue before you arrive at the office like so cold”
“Myung Jaehyun? Cold? That’s not possible” you laughed completely amused with the things you were learning, you weren’t sure how much actually meant anything but it felt nice to hear, she nodded at you as she continued explaining every detail of your relationship with Jaehyun as if it was a romcom that she had binged over fifty times.
“I guess platonic love is a thing too now but yeah I don’t think that’s y’all”
The more you thought about it the more you felt it and nothing about it felt merely friendly, you wanted to love him and show him love, you wanted to know it was real and not just your imagination, that he felt these things too, that he wanted to kiss you too.
Days went by and the words kept hitting at your throat begging to come out for him to listen as he always did, and tell you everything you felt was mirrored but you couldn’t just let it out. Now it was night out with the office and you managed to bring him along with you to the building rooftop with a few drinks for just the two of you under the moonlit sky.
“I can’t actually hold my alcohol” you giggled sipping out of the bottle in your hand,
“Don’t worry, I can” he hummed watching carefully as you looked over the barricade down to the street below you pulling you back almost immediately, bringing you back to the worn out chairs that were in the middle of the space on the roof,
“You know people think we’re dating” you slurred as the effects started getting to your brain, you stared at him waiting for a response watching him hold back a smile before looking back at you shrugging,
“You don’t mind ?” you asked tucking your hair behind your ear your eyes still fixed on him, you could feel your body heat up at every move he made, a part of you knew he wasn’t going to do anything but it was overshadowed by all of the others begging for him to do anything.
“Not really since it’s you” you titled your head at him trying to decipher if that meant it’s you and you’re cool and my friend so it’s whatever or it’s you and i love you so i don’t mind, he smiled noticing your obvious pensive state.
“Do you mind?” he asked curiously lifting up his eyebrow at you making you sigh a soft chuckle, you shook your head biting your bottom lip as you looked up at him the soft smile on his lips sending butterflies to your belly,
“No but why aren’t we?”
“Dating?” he asked a soft smirk on his lips as his brows lifted in shock, you nodded at him making him take the time to actually think about it,
“I guess I hadn’t asked yet” you smiled at the sound of those words and the way he looked at you spoke so much more, he had so much to say but he wanted you to know more than anything else, for you to feel what he felt,
“I don’t want to waste anymore time on talking, I want to show you the way i feel, if you’ll let me” you watched as he leaned closer to your face, his gaze bouncing between your lips and your eyes just waiting for you to give him the green light and once you did he kissed you so longingly his hand cupping your cheek perfectly as he pulled you in closer both your noses presses against each other’s cheeks, pulling back reluctantly resting his head on yours, your heavy breath against his lips only drawing him closer to you desperate to taste you once again,
“Y/n? So do I call you babe now?”
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shelbyssins · 1 year
Note
HI 💕 I loved Home so much and I was wondering if I could request something?? I had this idea of Tommy x Reader where reader was like a one that got away situation with pre-war Tommy and she married someone else but her husband dies during the war but Tommy didn’t ever know that he just thought she was married.. so time passes and they meet again then you can choose the ending!! Happy or sad you can choose, I hope this makes sense English is not my first language lol!! And if this doesn’t inspire you that’s okay too but know I love your work and am excited to see what you write next!!!💕😇😇
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Seasons Change, People Don't ~ Tommy Shelby x Reader
Warnings: Language, a sprinkling of angst
Word Count: 6,880
A/N: So this past week or so has just been insanely busy for me and I was struggling to find time to finish this request but here it finally is! I wanted to make this a little more light hearted than my previous request and the idea of Tommy and reader's relationship changing through the seasons really stuck with me so I hope you enjoy! I will be posting some shorter form one shots this week with some different characters so watch out for those! As always, if you read this, let me know what you think! - Rosie x
-
June 1912
“Tommy!” Y/n shrieked as she bounded over to her friend in the stables. The summer sun was breaking through the thin cover of cloud that drifted over the fields today. Y/n watched as Tommy’s eyes met hers, a soft smile playing on his lips when he recognised her. Y/n pressed a kiss to Tommy’s cheek, smacking her lips louder than she needed to because she knew it wound him up. He made an exaggerated show of wiping the spot she’d kissed and Y/n punched him lightly in response, he laughed gently, feigning hurt as he rubbed his arm. 
Tommy was reverently brushing his mare, a bay horse who’s coat gleamed like copper coins under his attention. Tommy was a quiet man, never really as raucous as his brothers could be, but he laughed a lot, those soft little chuckles that never failed to make Y/n blush whenever she pulled one out of him. Tommy was a middle child, but Y/n knew he acted every bit the eldest. Having been blessed with intelligence, his head would soon be burdened with the crown of the Shelby family. Though he did laugh a lot, Y/n could often see the strain he felt as the head of the family, so it was nice to see him relaxed and in his own world. 
He was twenty two now, about a head taller than Y/n and she found him so frustratingly handsome. She watched as his solid muscles shifted beneath his crisp shirt with every movement over his mare’s back, all broad shoulders and quiet strength, it was no wonder he had every girl in Small Heath falling over themselves for the chance to go out with him, though he never seemed to care much. Despite the obvious physical attraction, Y/n’s favourite part of him was his bright blue eyes, shining like sapphires in the sun, like stormy seas in the shade. Y/n would like to pretend that she was better than all the other girls, far above so obviously throwing herself at Tommy; but it was hard to push down the magnificently huge crush she had on him when he gazed at her with those pools of blue. 
Y/n had known Tommy ever since she could remember, her mother was best friends with his Aunt, Polly Gray, they were practically sisters, and as her father had abandoned them before she was even born, the Shelby family pitched in to help wherever needed. Then, when Y/n was twelve years old, her mother passed and she’d lived with Polly ever since. She knew full well that Tommy only ever deemed her like a sister, but that didn’t stop her dreaming that he’d one day notice her affections. 
It didn’t help that Tommy always treated her like a child as well, chiding her when he’d seen her smoking for the first time, always referring to her and her friends as ‘the kids’. Y/n had hoped that now she was eighteen, Tommy might see her in a different light, might start treating her like an adult, but if anything he was even more overprotective. 
Just recently he’d refused to let her sit with him and his older brother, Arthur, in the Garrison, telling her, “It’s not proper for young ladies to listen to conversation like ours, you don’t want to be around us when we’re drinking anyway,”. It was kind of humiliating, especially when Arthur had laughed that booming laugh right in her face, so she gave up that night and trailed home, feeling every bit the little girl Tommy thought she was.
“You know, Mark’s been hanging around me a lot recently,” Y/n began, hoping that Tommy might get jealous if she talked about another guy, “Ada says she thinks he likes me,” 
Y/n got nothing more than a non committal grunt from Tommy, though his hands had stilled their work over his mare’s mane. 
“She thinks he’s going to ask me to go to the Garrison’s jazz night this weekend. As his date,” She added the clarification at the end, searching Tommy’s face for absolutely any reaction.
Tommy obviously wasn’t going to bite, so Y/n decided to try a more direct approach, “You know, if you asked me to go with you instead of him, I’d say yes,” 
For all the intelligence he apparently possessed, Tommy just looked at Y/n blankly, a puzzled eyebrow raised as he went back to grooming his horse.
“You know I don’t like jazz, Y/n,” Was all he said on the matter, and Y/n wondered if he really was that bad at picking up her hints or if he was ignoring her attempts at flirtation on purpose.
Y/n was beyond frustrated at the fact that Tommy just didn’t understand what she was trying to say, she had hoped distantly that maybe she had a head start on all the other girls who liked Tommy too; she knew him far better than they did after all. But maybe it was because they’d grown up together that Tommy couldn’t see her as a potential girlfriend, maybe she’d always be just a kid in his eyes. Maybe he had some misguided idea that he was protecting her feelings by pretending to be confused, because perhaps in reality he just wanted to reject her.
“Well maybe I’ll just say yes to Mark then,” Y/n snapped, all together fed up with trying to get her meaning across. She looked away from Tommy then, afraid that if he caught her eye that she’d start blushing. 
Tommy didn’t look up at her statement, just scratched at his horse’s ear as he said a bored, “Ok,” 
Y/n huffed, storming away in a barely contained stomping tantrum that would rival any fit Finn could throw. She felt utterly defeated as she walked away from Tommy, thoroughly embarrassed that she was a tiny bit jealous of a horse.
 March 1913
The sun was warm today, the first hints of spring blooming to bask in its light. The grass, damp with morning dew, caressed Y/n’s bare legs just below her skirt as she walked through the meadow in search of Tommy. Y/n knew he would be out here somewhere, desperate to get the family’s horses out in the fields for some exercise after the previous week’s relentless storms had kept them locked in the stables.
As she climbed her way over a short hill, Y/n’s eyes finally set on Tommy, who was standing under the shade of a tree, smoke from his cigarette billowing out of his mouth. Y/n ambled over, the closer she got she took in more of his appearance. He was dressed only in an undershirt tucked into his trousers, his suspenders hung loose by his legs. Tommy’s hair, not gelled down for once, flopped over by his ears. Y/n swallowed thickly as she remembered that she had a boyfriend waiting for her at home.
“Hi, Tommy,” She said softly, not wanting to startle him out of whatever daydream he seemed to be in.
“Y/n,” He replied simply, blowing some smoke in her face by way of greeting.
Y/n rolled her eyes as she waved the cloud of smoke away, faking a cough as she did.
“You got another one of those for me?” She asked with a gesture towards his cigarette, putting on the sweet voice she always used when she wanted something from Tommy.
He wordlessly opened his packet and she took one gratefully, leaning forward when Tommy flicked his lighter. Tommy moved in close to light Y/n’s cigarette for her, she held her breath as he did, wanting to avoid accidentally breathing in his dizzying scent of fresh soap and a hint of whiskey. Y/n took a long drag of the cigarette, having smoked almost half of it in one go when she finally exhaled. Tommy quirked an eyebrow at her obvious craving for the nicotine but didn’t comment.
Y/n relaxed her shoulders a little as she felt the effects of the smoke calm her rushing blood slightly, sagging against the tree as she pulled at the last dregs of the cigarette. Her mind wandered back to the problem at hand when she flicked the butt away into the grass. 
“To what do I owe the pleasure,” Tommy asked as he too finished his smoke.
Y/n sighed and looked off into the distance, her eyes finding two of the Shelby horses grazing at the far side of the field in the shade, “I think Mark is going to propose to me.”
She sighed out a breath and couldn’t stop the way her eyes immediately went to Tommy’s face, waiting for his reaction. Y/n had accepted months ago that Tommy wouldn't ever see her the way she wanted him to, so she shut the door on those feelings and kept them buried under Mark’s affections. But she couldn’t help but worry that the lock on her heart was too weak now that she spoke to Tommy about impending marriage, she was powerless to stop the small hope that Tommy might tell her to say no, knew she’d run right into his arms if he wanted her to.
“I’m not sure what light you think I’ll be able to shed on the matter,” Tommy responded, his bored voice grating on Y/n’s final nerve.
“I should’ve known you’d be no help,” She huffed, pushing away from the tree and smoothing her skirts with angry hands. She made to stomp off back across the field, like she always did when Tommy irritated her, but a warm hand circling the entirety of her wrist stopped her in her tracks.
“Alright, love, alright, stop your tantrum,” Tommy was barely concealing a laugh behind his hand, but Y/n could see the humour clearly in his twinkling eyes. 
“Shut up, Tommy,” Y/n replied, articulating her scowl with a harsh shove into Tommy’s side, “I’m just… not sure I want to marry him, at least, not so soon,” 
Tommy pushed his hair out of his eyes and seemed to consider for a moment, “Well, don’t you like him?” 
Y/n rolled her eyes, “Of course I like him, he’s sweet - kind to me, you know... Has a good job,” 
“Well there you go, if you like him, why can’t you marry him?” Tommy said, so matter of fact that Y/n might have thought he’d mulled this over before.
“That’s just the thing, Tom. I like him, sure. But I just described him like he’s a pet dog, not a potential husband,” Tommy snorts at that and Y/n can’t help the little giggle that escapes in response, “I just… I always thought I’d be madly in love with whoever I was to marry, I’m scared I’ll regret it if I say yes,” 
“What if you say no and regret it?” Tommy asked, his voice as soft as the breeze whispering over Y/n’s skin.
“You’re right. I don’t want to end up alone the rest of my life, and it’s not like anyone else is lining up for the chance to propose to me,” Y/n cringed at how obvious she sounded as she glanced at Tommy, she hunted for any change in those expressive eyes but came back disappointed when there was nothing. 
Tommy said nothing more, sensing that Y/n was deep in thought, so they stood there in comfortable silence as the sun climbed higher into the afternoon sky. 
Y/n felt bereft at the way her life had turned out. She and Ada used to dream of their weddings like all little girls did. They would excitedly tell each other all the details, what kind of dress they would wear, the colour of the bouquet they would hold, even the flavour of the wedding cake. They would clasp their little hands together and wish their dreams would come true, but there was one dream little Y/n never told Ada. The dream that a handsome blue eyed man would be waiting for her at the end of the aisle, he’d say she looked beautiful as he lifted her veil and they’d vow to belong to each other as long as they both lived.
Y/n's chest tightened sorrowfully as she felt that dream slipping through her fingers. No matter how tight she tried to hold onto it, she knew now that it would never come true.
“Come on,” Tommy spoke up, apparently done with the silence, “We can ride the horses back to the stables and I’ll see you home.”
Y/n felt pained by his words because they came from brotherly concern rather than the love she’d always wanted from him. He walked on ahead of her and Y/n closed her eyes, trying to find a way to barricade the door to her heart just a little more, so that maybe it wouldn’t hurt so much the next time Tommy smiled at her.
November 1913
Autumn came and went silently through the town of Small Heath. The residential area was completely taken up by dull houses and sooty factories, so Y/n always had to go searching for trees just beyond the cut if she wanted to see the change of the leaves before there weren’t any left. All that evidenced Autumn was a slight chill in the air and the constant heavy rain that deluged the narrow streets. 
Y/n and Mark had married in that quiet Autumn a month ago in a small ceremony attended by only Mark’s family and the Shelbys, including Tommy. Life since then had been sweet, Y/n had to admit. Mark absolutely doted on her, hanging on her every whim to keep her happy, and Y/n found herself a little besotted with being Mrs Mark Johnson too, much to her surprise. At the wedding reception, Tommy had done nothing more than offer a muttered congratulations and brood in the corner alone for the rest of the night. But for once in her life, Y/n couldn’t find it within herself to actually care what Tommy was doing, thoroughly intent on enjoying a day that was all about her.
Winter then took Autumn’s place. Freezing air bit at bare faces, the town blanketed by a persistent cover of grey cloud. Y/n pulled her coat even tighter around herself as she made her way to the Garrison, praying that she’d find Tommy there since he’d been putting great effort into avoiding her recently. As she neared the place she hoped she’d find the second oldest Shelby, Y/n felt firmly resolute about her plan to talk to him, as she knew his stubbornness all too well. She knew that he’d let the silence between them stretch on until the end of time if she didn’t do something about it. So she steeled herself as she reached the heavy doors of the Garrison and walked inside.
She was immediately hit by the familiar smell of stale alcohol and tobacco permeating the air, barely containing a shudder as her senses tried to get used to the offending scent. Y/n quickly scanned the main area and didn’t find her target, so she walked over to Harry, the barkeep, and smiled at him as he finished wiping a glass.
“Hi, Harry. Is Tommy here?” She asked, hoping he’d at least caught sight of him today.
“He’s in there,” Harry replied, glancing over at the snug and nodding in that direction.
“Thanks, Harry,” Y/n gave her best sweet smile as payment, feeling a little bad about not buying a drink.
She pulled open the door to the snug and felt triumphant as she finally laid eyes on Tommy. He didn’t even bother to try and conceal the heavy sigh he huffed when he made eye contact with her, strengthening Y/n’s resolve that she would confront him about his avoidance even further.
“Hello, Thomas,” Y/n opened the conversation, inviting herself to sit at the table with him. 
Tommy immediately brought out his pack of cigarettes, lit one and hastily shoved it between his lips as if he was trying to stop himself from speaking.
“What are you doing here?” He asked, smoke flowing out of his mouth with every word. 
Y/n was puzzled at the question, “Is this not a public place?” She asked her own question back but didn’t wait for a response, “I’ve been trying to meet with you for weeks now, Tommy, but you always had some convenient excuse to avoid me,”
Tommy kept his face even and calm, the only tell that he’d been found out being a minute twitch of his lip, “There’s always business to attend to these days, Y/n,” He offered his meagre reasoning, another hasty excuse to hopefully placate her.
“Business,” Y/n couldn’t help but scoff, “Tommy, we haven’t had a conversation as long as this one since my wedding!” She didn’t miss the way Tommy’s shoulders straightened at the mention of the wedding. Curious.
“Why have you really been avoiding me, Tom?” She asked, softening her voice a little in hopes that Tommy would be more liable to answer truthfully.
But just as he’d opened his mouth to speak, in waltzed Arthur, the very embodiment of awkward timing, barrelling in like a rearing stallion, voice booming as loud as gunfire. Y/n rolled her eyes but couldn’t fight the smile that rose to her lips as Arthur pressed a rough kiss to the top of her head. 
“And how’s married life treating the new Mrs Johnson, eh?” Arthur articulated his thinly veiled innuendo with a suggestive wink.
“Just fine, thank you, Arthur,” Y/n replied with a smirk, quite enjoying the way Arthur’s eyebrows rose into his hairline, surprised that she’d actually played along.
“I bet there’ll be tiny little versions of you running around Small Heath in no time at all, eh, love?” He garbled around the cork of a whiskey bottle he’d pulled out with his teeth, pouring the amber liquid into his glass.
“Well, that might not actually be the case,” Y/n smiled a little sadly, watching as Tommy sat up a little straighter, quirking a confused brow as a means to ask her to explain.
“Mark has been looking at a property in the countryside, about an hour away from here. If nobody outbids us we’ll be moving come New Year,” Y/n looked down at her hands, her fingers twisting themselves into knots as she tried to avoid Tommy’s penetrating eyes.
Arthur hummed but didn’t say anything on the matter, and Y/n knew Tommy wasn’t going to offer anything new, recognising that the contemplative look on his face meant silence for the foreseeable. So she felt compelled to continue on explaining herself.
“With all this talk of war getting closer and closer to us, we really want to settle down and start a family sooner rather than later,” She rambled, feeling a little interrogated even though neither man had said anything yet. 
As Y/n flicked her eyes over to Tommy apprehensively, she saw that his jaw was completely set and he was gripping his whiskey glass so tight that his knuckles were white and his fist was shaking a little. 
Y/n looked at him quizzically, trying to make him meet her eyes by some sort of telepathy, but Tommy’s gaze remained firmly fixed on his alcohol. She couldn’t understand why he’d be angry with her about this, her move hadn’t come as a shock to anyone who actually spoke to her often; it had been on the cards pretty much as soon as they were married. Maybe it was because Tommy thought she’d be happier here, maybe it was because he didn’t like her husband; how was she to know if he rebuffed her every attempt at communication?
Silence continued on for a minute before Arthur, characteristically oblivious to the tension, piped up again, “Well! The countryside, eh? Sounds marvellous, love,”
Tommy raised his eyebrows, as if in disbelief, and shook his head, dragging on the last fragments of his cigarette. Y/n muttered a quiet thanks to Arthur as he stood, saying something about another bottle of whiskey from his private collection to celebrate. Her eyes followed Arthur’s slightly drunken gait as he made his way out of the snug.
“Thomas, why are you sulking at me?” She interrogated immediately as the door shut.
Tommy stamped out his cigarette in the ash try, “I’m not sulking,” he replied, frowning.
“Well, you’re doing an excellent impression,” Y/n countered, sighing when Tommy’s lips didn’t even attempt a smile, “I just don’t understand why you can’t even pretend to be happy for me at least,”
Tommy’s shoulders sagged at that and he finally lifted his head up to meet Y/n’s eyes, “Don’t get upset ok?” He began carefully, and just by his tone of voice, Y/n knew she absolutely was going to get upset, “I just didn’t think you’d marry so soon, especially after our conversation in spring, you said he was like a pet dog, not a husband. Now all of a sudden you’re moving away? I know you Y/n, you love our town, what if you hate it in the country?”
Y/n’s face flushed hot, she was utterly incensed that Tommy thought these things about her marriage and apparently just chose to never say a word about it, “Firstly, if I remember correctly about that conversation in spring, you offered me no actually helpful advice when I was obviously asking for it!” Y/n was careful not to shout, so her voice came out like a hiss, “Then you practically encouraged me to marry him! Now you want to act as if you’re the font of all knowledge when it comes to my marriage.”
Tommy bit his lip and scrubbed a rough hand over his face, the way he did when he was trying not to get angry, “I just can’t help but think that your decisions have been too hasty, Y/n,” he supplied, any sweetness in his voice long gone.
The words wounded Y/n deeper than anything he’d said to her before, she felt the tears pricking at her eyes as she tried not to show that she was upset. All she’d ever wanted was this married life with him, but now that she’d moved on and accepted that it was never going to happen, Tommy chose to criticise her every decision, blissfully ignorant of the fact that she had worked so hard to get over him.
“I could hardly wait for you forever, Tom,” Y/n whispered, suddenly feeling exhausted as all the memories of her relationship with Tommy flashed in front of her eyes, she couldn’t help but feel it was such a waste, pining after him for all that time. Such a waste to crave the affections of a man who didn’t pay enough attention to her to notice she was utterly in love with him.
“I don’t know what you mean,” Tommy finally said, looking away from Y/n’s tearful eyes.
“If you had such strong opinions on the choices I made, who I was going to marry, where I was going to live, maybe you should’ve voiced them while you still could’ve done something about it,” Y/n stood as soon as she finished her speech, walking towards the door when she was certain Tommy wasn’t going to speak again.
Tommy didn’t call after her when she left.
February 1917
The fire crackled distantly as Y/n stared blankly into the flames, amber light casting lonely shadows onto the walls of her cottage home. The room was near silent, but the thud of her heart in her ears was almost deafening. 
She clutched a telegram in her trembling hands and didn't bother to fight her tears as she read it for the fourth or fifth time, hoping this time she might make sense of the words written there on the page. But she didn’t know whether she couldn’t understand the sentences or just couldn’t believe the words were true.
Before the war hit England in July 1914, Y/n and Mark had spent a wonderfully happy, albeit short, married life. A few months before Mark was shipped off to France like every other man fit to fight, he worked as a clerk in the postal office of their little village, while Y/n looked after their house. She tended the garden too and often found peace planting flowers and thinking up new arrangements. Mark would come home every evening and greet Y/n with a kiss on her cheek before they sat down to eat dinner. Life was peaceful and picture perfect, no fighting, no drunkards lining the streets, no constant threat of crime. Y/n would be lying if she said she didn’t miss the chaos of Small Heath at least a little bit, but somewhere between their move to the country and Mark’s constant devotion, Y/n well and truly fell in love with him.
Now, as Y/n looked around her desolate sitting room, she realised she had absolutely nothing to prove that their love had ever happened. No matter how hard they had tried, God wouldn’t bless them with a child, and in the suffocating silence of this house, Y/n suddenly ached with longing to hear the patter of little feet running into her arms. At least she’d be comforted by the knowledge that a piece of their father resided still in this cottage, could look at their faces and still see his eyes looking back. But there was nothing, just utter loneliness.
Up until now, Y/n had grasped at any small shred of hope that Mark would return, ever since he left three years ago. She wrote to him every week, prayed for him every night, even though she wasn’t sure there was anyone listening anymore. She wished for his safe return and dreamed of the day he would warm their bed again. But now, there was no hope left in all the Earth that Y/n could beg for. There was no marriage, no husband to speak of as Y/n sat completely alone in this world, still clinging to that damned letter, her tears ruining the ink that spelled the end of her life.
Mark Johnson - Killed In Action.
July 1919
Y/n stepped off the train and took a heaving breath in as she tried to calm her nerves. Tendrils of anxiety curled around her chest as she carefully walked up the steps to leave the station, she knew she was only a short walk away from her home town and the odd need to run away was rising through her body.  
Only the month prior, Y/n had sold her cottage in the countryside, finally accepting that nothing was keeping her tied to that place anymore, accepting that she couldn’t fit in without Mark. In the village, every corner she turned was a reminder of her husband, the route he used to walk to work, their favourite spot in the park, the station where she'd kissed him for the last time. She twisted her wedding ring around her finger nervously, she’d kept it on even after Mark's memorial service, it seemed a simple service she could do her husband to wear it, to remember him every day.
Y/n decided to rent a flat just down the road from where she’d grown up, and the familiarity of the streets comforted her as she entered her new home, dropping her few belongings in the hallway. It wasn’t much, but as a woman alone Y/n didn’t really see the point of buying a big house with no one else to keep her company. She sagged against the door, suddenly overwhelmed with the urge to get a whiskey, so she decided to leave the flat for a while and hoped that the Garrison would clear her head.
Almost as soon as she opened the door to the pub, Y/n could hear John’s familiar voice shouting over to someone at the bar and her eyes immediately landed on all of the Shelbys sat around a table, drinking various spirits and pints of ale. The relief she felt as she counted the boys and noted that they were all intact and alive was brief, she couldn't believe her bad luck that she had run into every Shelby the minute she set foot back in Small Heath. Y/n quickly scurried up to the bar, hopefully unnoticed by the family, deciding that she definitely wasn't having this reunion sober.
She had barely taken a sip of her whiskey when a voice called to her from across the room, "Well isn't this a sight for sore bloody eyes," Y/n heard Polly's familiar drawl and didn't need to look up from her glass to know all the attention was suddenly on her. Y/n gave up on the dainty sipping and knocked back the rest of her whiskey as the Shelbys began to descend like vultures to their prey. She focussed on the way the alcohol spread through her body, warming her and giving her that little bit more confidence as she gave a tight hug to her surrogate mother, "Hi, Pol," she said with a smile.  
"Now what the 'ell are you doing back 'ere, love?" Arthur spoke as he nodded to the barkeep to refill your glass.
Y/n sighed, overwhelmed by the sudden questioning even though it was only Arthur who had asked anything, "You ok?" Polly whispered, squeezing her arm. Y/n nodded quickly and took another gulp of whiskey, "I wasn't counting on seeing you all so suddenly, I only got here half an hour ago!" She laughed nervously, "But now's as good a time as any to say I've moved back here. Surprise!" There was a chorus of congratulations and happy remarks, but there was only one person's face Y/n searched for, and she finally felt like she was home when she found Tommy's blue eyes.
He looked different, older definitely, but there was a cold harshness in his eyes that Y/n had never seen before. She shivered at what those eyes might have seen in France.
"It's good to have you back round here, Y/n," Tommy said lowly, and Y/n felt like everyone else in the room had faded away as she let Tommy's presence wash over her.
"Let's get a bottle to celebrate!" Arthur boomed, ruffling her hair like he did when she was a child, "Where's that husband of yours?" Y/n sucked in a sharp breath at the tactless question, fighting back tears as she tried to remember that it wasn't their fault if they didn't know Mark had passed.
"Probably at home looking after the kids, eh, Y/n?" John chimed in, nausea rising in Y/n's stomach as she tried to get a word in edgewise before someone said something they would regret.
"Nah, he's probably avoiding the pub, you know he can't handle his booze," Tommy was the one to pipe up that time and Y/n hated the cruel edge to his laugh, she'd hoped he'd grown up enough to get over his childish dislike of her husband.
"Tommy," Polly warned in that low, threatening voice of hers, picking up on Y/n's quickened breathing and tearful eyes. But Tommy carried on laughing, oblivious to his Aunt's insistence that they stop making fun, "You have to admit, he's always been a bit of a boring bastard," and there was the last straw. Before she'd even told her arm to move, Y/n's hand was flying at Tommy's face, slapping him right across the cheek so hard his head actually looked like it might detach from his neck. It happened so quickly Y/n wasn't quite sure if she had actually done it or not, but the boys had stopped laughing instantaneously, and the way Polly physically flinched told her she had genuinely just smacked Tommy Shelby. "How dare you," Y/n hissed before she could think better of it, her voice cold as steel, "My husband is dead, Thomas, have some fucking respect," The entire pub had gone silent, all staring intently at the scene unfolding, but wincing at Y/n's words, like they were watching a car accident happen right in front of them, too morbidly curious to look away. To his credit, John looked thoroughly ashamed of himself even though he hadn't said anything insulting and Arthur's eyes looked like they might pop out of his head, Y/n might have laughed had the cause been different. "Y/n, love, I'm sorry, we-" Arthur reached out as if to comfort her, but he cut off his sentence when Y/n flinched away from his touch, too overwhelmed to be crowded by him. She didn't know when she'd started to cry, but tears were flooding down her cheeks and pooling on the floorboards at her feet.
"Right. John, Arthur? Time to go," Polly insisted, ever the observant one, she knew that Tommy and Y/n had some talking to do. Neither man moved at first, but all it took was for Polly to level them with her menacing glare and they were hurrying out of the pub faster than a horse at full gallop.
Tommy and Y/n stood in silence for a moment, Y/n being too scared to speak because she desperately didn't want to acknowledge that she'd just slapped him.
"Y/n, I'm so sorry," Tommy finally whispered, and his voice was so genuinely sincere that it broke the final shred of dignity that Y/n cared to hold onto, and she started to cry louder than she had even let herself cry at Mark's memorial. Tommy opened his arms and that was all the prompting Y/n needed to fall straight into his chest, she sniffled as he cradled her head against his steadily beating heart, he shushed her softly and held her tight, "Come on now, love, let's go in the other room yeah? We can talk away from all the prying eyes,"
Y/n allowed herself to be led into the snug, struck by how familiar it was even after all these years, Tommy lowered her carefully onto the couch, as if he was afraid she might fall over.
"I'm sorry for hitting you, Tommy," Y/n babbled as soon as her breathing evened out, "It's not your fault, you didn't know Mark was dead,"
Tommy rubbed his cheek and smiled lightly, "Don't apologise, I deserved it. You've got some power in that hand, you know? Not sure any man has ever hit me that hard," Y/n giggled despite herself, sniffing and wiping at her face to dry the tears.
"So how come you're moving back here?" Tommy asked as she sagged into the couch, he avoided asking about Mark's death, sensing that she'd talk about it in her own time.
"Everything back at the village just reminds me of him, I couldn't stand it. Every time I left the house I couldn't stop thinking about how I waved him off to France, to fucking war, and didn't know he was never coming back. So I just isolated myself, only left the house to buy food, never made any friends because I couldn't bring myself to walk around without him by myside, I couldn't walk around as if nothing had happened," Tommy just hummed, knowing there was more to say and just waiting for Y/n to go on, "So when I finally sold the house, I decided to make a new start somewhere I knew would be easy to fit in,"
"You were right, you know," Y/n laughed into the quiet of the room, "I really did miss it round here. I missed how unpredictable it was, the routine of the village was hard to get used to but..." She teared up all over again as her husband's smiling face flashed in her mind, "I really did love him,"
"I'm sorry," was all Tommy said as Y/n swallowed around the lump in her throat.
"I didn't think I'd fall in love with him so deeply. At the start, my main reason for marrying him was because I thought I had no other option," Y/n confessed, not entirely sure why she was spilling all of her secrets to the man she used to love.
"I always thought you liked him a lot either way," Tommy said, a confused edge to his tone, "You used to talk about him constantly,"
Y/n laughed a genuine laugh at that, reminded suddenly of herself at seventeen, "I only talked about him so much because I thought it would make you jealous,"
Tommy's head shot up at that, and Y/n was once again concerned about the structural integrity of his neck, "Jealous?" He reiterated, pausing the rolling of a new cigarette to stare at Y/n expectantly.
"Yeah, I used to hint at you all the time about my very massive crush on you. But for all the good your intelligence apparently does, you never got it. Or, you know, you were just trying to let me down gently,"
Tommy looked like he was about to choke, or possibly stop breathing all together, "Hold on, you liked me?"
Y/n rolled her eyes at Tommy, assuming he was overreacting on purpose, "I know, it's embarrassing Tommy, don't make fun of me. But yes, I didn't just like you. I loved you, Tommy, ever since I was eleven,"
"Oh my god," Tommy breathed, suddenly struggling to get his rolling paper to stick.
"What? There's no need to be dramatic, Thomas," Y/n said, voice snippy due to her slight mortification.
"I just... I liked you too, for years, but I thought you didn't have any feelings for me since you were going out with Mark,"
Y/n was sure her blood had turned cold in her veins, either that or someone must have dumped a bucket of ice over her head, "Are you serious right now? Tommy, you should've just told me! I was being so obvious with my hints and you just refused to see it!"
Tommy looked indignant as he gave up on rolling his cigarette, "Well, why didn't you just tell me!" Y/n couldn't deny that that was an excellent point, "Anyway, I was sure someone as beautiful as you couldn't possibly have feelings for someone like me,"
Y/n slumped in her seat, overwhelmed by the revelations, she smiled as she imagined how she would've reacted to this information when she was a teenager all those years ago.
"Oh, Tommy, you're an idiot!" Tommy started to laugh and Y/n couldn't help soon joining in, feeling weightless for the first time since the war. She gazed into Tommy's eyes again, searched for the same look they'd had when he was in his early twenties, even though she knew she wouldn't find it. He'd changed so much, they both had, but in that moment she wondered if they really could just be the same two kids who loved each other so much, couldn't help but wonder how their lives would've played out if they'd both had the courage to admit their feelings.
Y/n didn't know when it happened, but their faces were suddenly only a hair's width apart, she could feel his breath whispering over her mouth, he smelled sweet despite the tobacco that clung to him. Y/n's eyes fluttered closed out of instinct, her heart thudding as she let herself be intoxicated by Tommy's entire being. But just as their noses touched, she sprung away from Tommy like he'd burned her.
"I'm sorry, that was-"
"No, don't apologise," Y/n cut him off before he could start spiralling, "Tommy... I've loved you since the day I met you, and... I think I always will love you, no matter what happens, or what has happened. You mean the world to me," she stared at her hands, afraid of the vulnerability she felt as she laid her heart at Tommy's feet, "But you have to understand... I loved my husband too, and I can't help but feel like I'm betraying him, because I'm falling for you so fast all over again. I'd - I'd feel so guilty if I rushed into something with you when he loved me so much before he passed. I can't just forget him."
"I won't ask you to," Tommy replied, tentatively putting his warm hand on Y/n's knee, making her look up at him, "But I have loved you too, and I love you right now, and I'll love you tomorrow. I won't ever be able to forgive myself if I let you get away again, not now that I know you feel the same. I want to be with you, whenever you're ready. We can take it slow,"
Y/n was breathless, like all the air in the room had suddenly been sucked out, she was completely consumed by thousands of thoughts running through her head all at once, "What does slow look like?" She whispered, entirely swept up by the ocean of love in Tommy's eyes.
"It starts like this," He murmured softly, taking Y/n by the hand and brushing his lips against her knuckles, "Then it might continue if you'll accompany me to dinner soon?"
"I'd like that Tommy," Y/n replied, a wave of relief flowing through her body, grateful that she could find love again at her own pace.
Tommy leaned in slowly and placed the most gentle and reverent kiss on Y/n's cheek, looking so deeply into her eyes that she thought he might be gazing directly at her soul, his voice was full of adoration as he said, "I promise I won't ever let you go,"
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goatgoatgoat7778 · 3 months
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I had an ftl fanfic from last June that I’ve been meaning to revise… so I wrote something completely different instead lol. This is based on the starvation mechanic, and the couple of times a scavenger got stuck with me. I tried to keep this one short since having to go over my own writing is terrible and I always procrastinate.
Saga the slugcat made her way back to the shelter, noting with slight disappointment that there were fewer berries to eat than the last time she took that path. She liked to gorge herself last-minute before hibernation; being overly stuffed impeded her athleticism, but it didn’t matter if she was already at the shelter. Though she hadn’t quite eaten her fill, there was still a satisfying distention in her furry white belly that assured, at the very least, she wouldn’t be completely ravenous the next cycle. When she crawled into the shelter- WHAM! She fell on her rear and found herself staring into the wide yellow eyes of a Scavenger that had been trying to leave just as she was entering. As they stared at each other in a daze, the exit to the shelter slammed shut with a heavy metallic thud. Saga had triggered the shelter’s auto-lock system and trapped this poor Scav along with her. Whoopsie. The Scav sat down and patted his side, motioning her to sit next to him. She curled up next to him, and couldn’t help but nestle into his warm fur. He welcomed the gesture, wrapping an arm around her and pulling her in closer. Saga was glad she had such a good reputation with the Scavengers- if she didn’t, things would have been a lot more awkward. She had no doubt in her mind, however, that she would’ve been able to take this Scav on in hand-to-hand combat if it came to that. Maybe that’s why she allowed herself to get comfortable so quickly. As she started to doze, she became unconsciously aware of a low rumbling sound that filled the shelter. Her stomach often loudly digested as she fell asleep so it wasn’t too out of place for her, but she didn’t feel any activity in her stomach. Her head perked up as the Scavenger placed a hand on his stomach as a more intense growl came from it, the quiet of the shelter only serving to amplify it. She cocked her head. You okay? He waved a hand dismissively in return. I’m fine, don’t worry about it! The long, stomach-shaking groan claimed otherwise. Saga put the pieces of the puzzle together- there was less food around because the Scavenger had eaten some, and he must’ve come in here looking for food- and from the sound of it, he hadn’t gotten enough to comfortably hibernate. She placed her ear on his stomach, listening to the hollow growls that resonated from it and feeling the rumbles that traveled across the length of his belly. To her it was like white noise, and she eventually drifted off to sleep.
As she began to wake up, her stomach gave a painful twist that made her wince. She rubbed her now flat and empty stomach and worked out some growls to ease the hunger pains. She ate enough so that she wouldn’t be this hungry when she woke up which could only mean- she slept in! She hadn’t done that since she was a pup! In fairness to herself, the Scavenger was wrapped around her like a warm weighted blanket and she can’t remember the last time she was this comfortable. She shuffled a bit and gave her companion, who had turned to lie on his back, a look over. Though he was naturally lithe, his stomach had sunken in considerably and his ribs began to poke out through his fur. It shook and growled and when she placed her hand to it, she could feel his innards churn and twist desperately for sustenance, loudly complaints passing through his thin tummy. As the racket began to wake him up, he saw her looking at him with big sad eyes. He tried to wave it off again, but a long string of growls that made him double over interrupted him. Wait here. She motioned with her hands. She felt a bit guilty for keeping him here longer than he needed to, especially when he was so hungry. She’d go out and hunt a feast he’d never forget.
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unsaidthingsj2e · 1 year
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Promise i don't forget all of my fault in this
Summary : After Jude broke your heart, he can't help but regret how he did it. Loosing his best friend of 10 years is not something he knows how to cope with
a/n : here is part 2 to this fic, probably not what you were expecting but i like it this way better!
english is still not my first language so if any sentence doesn't make sense or if typos are hiding in there, i apologize!! (+ this is even barely proofread sorry)
title is a lyrics from Best by Gracie Abrams
To the eye of anyone else, his life looked like a dream.
With his career predicted to continue its raising towards a legendary peak, a beautiful girl he genuinely was in love with at his side and a promise of everything going his way in life, it seemed like the equation was solved.
The thing is, it was solved, he found x, he had x but he also threw x away, thinking it wasn't necessary to his well-being.
The problem is, x was his ex-lover, ex-best friend, ex-childhood friend. When he made the decision to leave her behind, he thought he did the right thing.
Breaking her heart was the hardest thing he ever had to do, but he knew she wouldn't have survived seeing him with a new girl while still being in his life. He knew if given the option, she would've stayed at his side, as a best friend, a friend, an acquaintance. So in his mind, breaking her heart, leaving her with a lost soulmate was the best decision, for her.
He had not anticipated how much it would hurt him as well.
He spent the first week feeling unbelievably lighter. Lying to her, going out with his girl behind her back and cheating were not things he had enjoyed doing. He knew he had no right to be sad or even to complain about anything, being the one doing the cheating and not being cheated on.
He was certain if younger Jude could, he would find a way to travel in time and hunt current Jude down until the end of his days. She used to be so much more than an ex-lover.
Ever since primary school, she had been the only constant thing in his life. He had other friendships that he grew out of, he had girlfriends that wouldn't last enough time for him to even get attached, and he now had fans that would forget about him in a few months. But she was always there, and that's what made him think she was the perfect match for him.
He already loved her and they got along better than any other friends, he knew her inside out and still admired her, he already went through hell and back by her side. It made sense that what he was feeling was romantic love. And perhaps it was at first, or maybe it never was, he could not pinpoint the moment he realized he made a mistake and confused platonic feelings for romantic ones.
It's the fact that she realized so much faster than him that scared him, and that made the process happen so much faster. She managed to watch the light fade from his eyes before he could put a name on what was happening in his head when he looked at her. She noticed the nature of the blank stares he would be stuck in and deep down, she knew.
Tonight marks the third week since he broke her heart, and his guilt laced with longing is eating him alive. Because today was the 22nd of the month, day on which, every month without a miss, they would meet up one way or another to watch movies and gossip and catch up on lost time due to their busy schedules.
It had become a tradition since they were kids, Jude had to conceal football and school and ended up being able to spend less time with her. A June 22nd, she had voiced her worries of him forgetting her in the whole process, so he promised at least every month, she would get a night of his full undivided attention.
It was never just movies, some 22nd's were spent on her house's roof, stargazing while sharing terrifying thoughts about growing up, about feelings taking a meaning, others were spent driving around your hometown, signing along to their shared playlist.
But it always was on the 22nd. Twelve 22nd's a year, twelve nights to ensure their hearts were still each others.
Tonight's 22nd was the first one in eight years they weren't in each other's presence or on a videocall. On this 22nd, Jude decided he had to face his feelings. He was done hiding them and pretending this didn't affect him, he lost someone who was dear to him no matter who was to blame.
Coming home from practice, where his performance were mediocre at best, and ended in his coach voicing his worries about his mood and its affect on his stats lately, Jude was worn off.
Turning his keys in the door lock, his eyes fell down on the red phone cabin keychain he reluctantly kept after she forced him to. He had playfully refused to do so at first, claiming this was too much of a tourist thing to even just buy, let alone display on his keys. But she had argued that this would be a fond way to remember every place they had traveled to.
Not realizing he had been staring at the keys lost in thoughts for a few minutes, not making any moves to enter, a soft voice got him out of this haze.
"Jude, is that you?" He heard his girlfriend ask from the other side of the door, voice uncertain and fear audible
"Yes, yes it's me darling. Sorry about that I kinda zoned out", Jude rushed to explain while opening the door, noting how scary hearing the quiet sound of keys fumbling into the lock would've been from her point of view.
He stepped into his house, immediately face to face with his lover, whom he engulfed into a bone crushing hug almost as quickly.
"Today's the 22nd" he mumbled into her hoodie "It sucked, 'm feeling like shit and I did bad at practice"
One thing he made sure to do with any partner of his, was to make sure they both felt safe enough to share any thought, not wanting to hold the weight of any information by themselves. Therefore, he had told her everything about his feeling about his ex best friend, how much he missed her and everything about their moments ; including the 22nd tradition.
"Yeah, i figured you would- not do bad at practice, feel like shit i meant" she answered while playing with the hair at the nape of his neck, simultaneously rubbing comforting circles into his back.
"I just- it's so frustrating. I'm the one who broke things off, I got the fucking good side of things and here I am whining about it.", squeezing her body harder, Jude tried another way to convey the emotions that invaded every cell of his body, feeling like words aren't enough. Before he could continue, she interrupted his rant.
"Jude, hun, we talked about this. You did break things off but it was needed, even she could tell things weren't the same anymore. But she was your best friend, shit like that hurts even if it was the best option at the time", this conversation was held almost every day, he was convinced his feelings were not justified because of the way he handled the situation.
"Yeah, I know, my feelings are valid and all this bullshit, doesn't mean it doesn't feel unfair" he moved from the embrace to take his shoes off, focusing on the task to avoid his lover's eyes "I mean, I miss her so much and it's so selfish considering she's probably in her head overthinking the authenticity of every moment we ever spent together, I'm literally a piece of shit". His shoe laces weren't cooperating, seemingly in sync with his conflicting emotions. With a groan, he gave up, throwing himself on the floor with his back on the door, his head resting on it, looking up the ceiling.
She gently crouched down next to him, rubbing his thigh in hopes to calm him down with the soothing movement. "I won't lie and say she's thriving right now, because let's face the truth, it definitely destroyed her-", at this statement, Jude banged his head on the door, "-but. But it was a shitty situation that needed to be dealt with in a shitty way. You missing her is not you being selfish, get that out of your pretty head."
Now on her knees beside him, she brought her other hand on his cheek, nudging him to make eye contact with her. Her gaze was full of empathy for his internal struggle, understanding his part, but also seeing hers. "Did you-" she stopped for a second when he finally looked back at her, eyes glossy, "Did you think about reaching out to talk to her? I'm aware you don't want to do it because you're scared she'd come back and end up hurting more. But. If not for you, do it for her? You haven't seen her since you broke things off, and she didn't even get the chance to talk, she probably is dying to find closure in a way"
"You're probably right, she deserves it. I'm just not even sure she'd want to meet up though. I wouldn't want to see someone who is as much of a dickhead as I am. Good motives or not, I did this badly." Jude did not lack self awareness concerning this situation. It's because he knows her so well that he knew the words he used would wound her deeply, although unintentionally.
Voice barely above a whisper, he shamefully admits, "Sometimes, I don't even want her to get closure. God that sounds so bad but. I don't want her to forget about me, about us. 10 years of friendship is a fucking long time, I don't want her to wipe this off her memory because I was an asshole"
Not even bothering to correct him, and uselessly try to convince him he isn't an asshole, she instead continued, "Please, talk to her, she probably doesn't want 10 years worth of memory to be tainted by this ugly night. And it's been due, for both of your sake." She felt helpless in front of her boyfriend's misery, and would do anything to help it be less intense and all consuming. "Don't let her spend her first 22nd in eight years all alone, thinking you hate her", slowly detangling his shoe lace and tying it back the right way, she moved to kiss his forehead. "Be patient and let her time to voice her thoughts, yeah?"
He stood up, and took his time to take the woman in front of him in, he felt incredibly lucky this exact second. Any other woman would be fuming with jealousy at the thought of their man going to see their ex-girlfriend that they've known for half their life. He hated to think that getting her had to come with losing his best friend. "Okay, yeah, okay i'm going then. I appreciate you so much for this, thank you for understanding."
a/n : you guys : "part 2 w reader living her best life n Jude wanting her back!!"
me : "how about no?" i actually wrote about 6 different start to this but it always felt off, knowing how brutally Jude left reader?
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proxima-writes · 11 months
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title: father’s day
pairing: post outbreak!joel miller x gender neutral reader
rating: none
summary:
Father’s Day is hard for Joel Miller after losing his daughter.
content warnings/tags: no use of y/n, references to grief and child loss. i don’t think there’s any others, but please let me know if i’ve missed any.
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Joel grows more quiet toward the middle of June, his gaze more distant as he moves through the motions of living as guilt weighs heavy on his mind. The phantom fingers of grief curl around his heart, squeezing tightly as he tries to live each day like he didn’t lose his whole world twenty years ago.
He wonders what Sarah would have been like, had the world not gone to shit. Would she have stuck with soccer? Been a good student? Gone to college? What would her degree have been in? He thinks about a little girl with curly hair carrying around her pretend veterinarian toys, diagnosing her stuffed animals, and his throat clogs with emotion.
Joel Miller was a father.
He’s not anymore.
_______
You notice how Joel, who’s already a man of few words as it is, starts to speak less over dinner. As June wears on, the days bright and warm, Joel grows colder. Ellie comes to you with concern one day.
“What’s wrong with Joel?” The young girl asks bluntly. “He’s more of a sad motherfucker than usual.”
“Might be because of Father’s Day,” you tell her as she sits at the table.
“What’s that?”
You tilt your head. Sometimes you forget that Ellie has lived through so much, yet so little all at once. Growing up in a government controlled orphanage and spending your formative years in a military prep school probably didn’t leave much room for learning about many holidays.
“It’s just what it sounds like. A day to celebrate your father,” you tell her.
She’s quiet for a beat before asking, “That why Joel’s so upset?”
“Yeah, that would be my guess.”
“What do you normally do for Father’s Day?”
You think back to your past life, one where you’d had a blood family rather than a found one. When you were a young child, your mom would sign your name to a card from the store and you’d watch as your dad opened a gift he’d specifically requested. In your teens, you would buy him a card yourself and usually a book, something feasible with your part-time job earnings. And the last Father’s Day you remember, you’d been eighteen and away at college, only able to offer him a brief phone call between classes.
“Well, I guess it depends on the kind of relationship you had. There were cards you could buy, and stores would have sales on things like tools or electronics. Some families might have a special meal. People who lost their fathers might visit their grave. If you didn’t have a father or a good relationship with one, I imagine you’d let the day pass without acknowledgement, just another Sunday.”
Ellie nods. “Joel needs a new belt. I’ll ask Marlon to show me how to make one,” she says, referring to the town’s craftsman.
“You…wanna get him a gift? For Father’s Day?” You ask in surprise. Her cheeks heat with a pink flush as she shrugs, looking anywhere but at you.
“I mean, I guess. He’s the closest I’ve had to one,” she replies. You smile at her.
“I think that’s a wonderful idea, Ellie.”
________
Joel lets himself into the house, veins warm from the whiskey he’d had at the Tipsy Bison with Tommy. It had been a silent affair, but a needed one for both men, one mourning a daughter and the other his beloved niece.
He removes his boots at the door before journeying to the kitchen, making a beeline for the sink to get himself a glass of water to wash the lingering taste of whiskey from his mouth. It’s not until he’s about to leave the kitchen does he notice what’s on the table.
There’s a folded piece of paper with his name on it tucked beneath a coiled leather belt. Joel picks up the belt, admiring the stitching and the thick silver buckle. Ever since returning to Jackson, his waist has filled out more thanks to the labor and actual food, not rations or scavenged canned goods, doing his body a favor.
He picks up the card next, Ellie’s familiar scratchy handwriting spelling out his name in large letters on the front. He opens it, reading the message inside.
Why should people stop buying belts?
Because they go to waist.
Happy Father’s Day
Ellie
Joel grits his teeth against the surge of emotion in his chest, eyes stinging with tears. Movement at the corner of his eye catches his attention.
“You put her up to this?” He asks you, gesturing with the belt in his hand.
“Nope. Came up with that all on her own,” you reply with a smile.
He looks at his gift in bewilderment.
Joel Miller was a father.
Perhaps, in the ways that matter most, he still is.
Want more Joel Miller? Check out my masterlist.
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wormdebut · 5 months
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omg for the spotify wrapped list......... 85?
Hi!! Thank you for sending in a number! Number 85 on my Spotify Wrapped is Sowing Season by Brand New!
----
'You're here Eddie! You're awake and you have your whole life ahead of you while Max is fucking fighting for her life. So get up and do something! We all went through it Eds, and I know you're hurting. God, Eddie, I know. But, the kids miss you--hell man, I--' Steve's voice cracks. 'I miss you and it doesn't even make sense to me, but I do. We are all here for you man--call me when you figure that out.'
It runs through his head on repeat. It always does. That was sometime late April. Today is June 4th. Today is June 4th and Max is awake and in a wheel chair…just like Eddie is.
Max had a hard time at first, once she woke up, curled in on herself. Kept things in…just like Eddie did. He was shocked when he saw her that first time in May, wheelchair and all, throwing rocks at his new government funded trailer window. They worked through things together. But she was really the only person he had spoken to since--all of it--besides Uncle Wayne.
Max went through hell and is rebuilding, going to physical therapy, seeing her friends, finding the ability to laugh again. Just like Eddie…isn't.
But her legs were broken…they would heal. Those damn bats had gone and taken one of Eddies--
Eddie shakes his head, unruly curls falling over his eyes. He needs to stop comparing. He needs to stop pouting and whining. Max has to be tired of it…Wayne has to be exhausted by it. Eddie can't do this anymore. He needs to get his life back.
'We are all here for you man--call me when you figure that out.'
He needs to call Steve.
Eddie will never get used to having to wheel around everywhere…hopefully he won't have to for long though. Owens had said something last month about paying for a prosthetic for Eddie which…well, it fucking terrified him, but he was turning over a new leaf. This morning, when he woke up, the same as he had the day before and the day before that--he had been ready to wallow just like he had been doing since he woke up in that damn hospital bed, down a leg and with Wayne and Steve Harrington staring at him with wide eyes. But, what Steve had said in April ran through his mind…like it had been since it happened and today? It stuck.
Wayne was out. He'd left a note on the fridge. Eddie would never be able to repay Wayne for all the love and patience he had poured into his mess of a nephew. But, Wayne wouldn't have let him, even if he had a way.
Eddie is lucky. Eddie is alive and he has been wasting away feeling sorry for himself. He sighs, reaching up for the phone. Being in a damn wheelchair made him feel nine years old and four feet tall.
Eddie holds the phone to his ear, reading another sticky note. One that Steve had left behind when they had last seen each other.
His hands aren't shaking as he reaches up to dial…they aren't.
He's trying to control his breathing as he listens to the ringing through the line.
"Thanks for calling Family Video, this is Steve. How can I help you?"
Eddie lets out a breath he didn't even know he was holding. "Stevie?"
Surely, Eddie isn't imagining things when he hears Steve take a sharp inhale of the other end of the line.
"Eddie?" He asks. His voice is soft, just like it had been when Eddie had woken up terrified and confused in the hospital.
"You told me--you told me to call when--when I figured it out. I wanna get better Steve. I need to be better." Eddie says. He'll deny the shakiness in his voice until he dies.
Steve laughs, and it's bright and Eddie wouldn't mind hearing that sound for the rest of his--anyway Steve laughs. "I've been waiting for your call." Eddie can practically hear Steve's smile. He can't help but smile too.
"I'm sorry, I kept you waiting big boy." ----
"I'm on the mend, at least now I cay say that I am trying."
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