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#remember when he opened his heart up to love again and found a loving family with the grants
gglitch1dd · 2 days
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I love that we’re getting to know more about Koda, so I have a question. Does he ever get mad at the fact that he’s sick and can’t do everything his brothers can? Does he ever get mad at his mom? Kinda like when a little kid says I hate you after being told no, I doubt he’d mean that but most kids don’t think about it when they say it.
REMEMBER YOU ARE LOVED AND IMPORTANT ‼️‼️❤️❤️❤️
aww thank you anon. You are important too<3 always know that.
Honestly, Koda is my new favourite out of all the brothers, that and Hero. Cause Hero is just say to say some unhinged comment and vanishes to mind his own business. But to answer briefly, he does. And it breaks Reader's heart.
Why can't I go outside?
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You stood in the kitchen watching from inside as your husband talked with one of the Ministers outside. It was an unexpected visit that was only found out an two hours before, but it was one you quickly managed to salvage.
Your husband and you had strict rules with visitors and one of them was if your visit is unexpected, you're sitting outside (unless cold of course or weather didn't allow it). You wanted to keep your house as germ free as possible and you could only do that by managing your own family and friends that understood. With acquentenaces it was harder. But you smiled as Hero seemed to be playing ball with the Minister of Defence's son.
"Mom." You turned around to see Kane walking over to you with a serious look on his face.
You smiled as you put down your glass of juice. "What's up, sweetheart?" You asked.
"It's Koda."
You paused as a small trickle of fear and anxiety washed over your body. You stepped forward, your eyebrows furrowed. "Is he sick? Is he running a fever again?"
Kane shook his head making you drop your shoulders in relief. "No, he just won't let me give him his medication. He won't sit still for his IV. He's..." Kane hesitated. You could see the conflict in his eyes. "He's upset."
You hummed, knowing that it was one of those days. You motioned for him to follow you as you headed upstairs. Koda was a sweet boy, with a heart of gold and ever so sensitive and often than not, he understood that he got sick easily and didn't mind all the adjustments in his life.
However, he was only just turned five. So naturally, he would get fed up with the accomodations needing to be made in his life.
You walked through the door with Kane. The interim room was set up as a sort of barrier between the outside world and your son. It's where you took the necessary precations before walking in. You washed your hands thoroughly, making sure to nearly scrub them till they felt tender. You let the air around you become still and cleaned as you slipped off your shoes, putting on new ones as you walked into Koda's room, Kane following inside.
Your son sat on his little dinosaur carpet, playing with his legos, building something with a frown on his face. The cabinets on the left hand side were clearly touched and opened, showing that Kane had been there, trying to help give Koda his medication. You saw the IV next to his bed that was untouched. His room, although decorated and stuffed with toys and all the things he loved, reminded you a lot like a hospital pediatric room than it did a bedroom, with its sterilised air and constant clean smell.
You took a breath, before crouching down to your son's height, going down on your knees. "Koda, my baby, Kane told me that you aren't allowing him to help you with your medicine." He nodded his head but didnt say anything else. "Can you tell me why?"
"I don't want it."
"My sprout, you know you have to take them. It helps keep you stronger." You reminded him. "Remember, big strong dinosaurs need to take their medic-"
"But why can't I go outside now!" He raised his voice at you turning to you with frustrated tears in his eyes. You tried not to show pain on your face. "I don't like them! I have them everyday! Why can't I play outside with Hero and the other new boy outside!" He pointed out at the windowseil, where he could sit and see the bunnies outside if he wanted to.
You took his little hand. "Koda, you know that other people can sometimes make you sick, and until daddy and I know that they won't, we have to be safe for you."
"Then why can't I go to school!" He shouted at you. "Like my brothers. Like Kane and Toshi!"
You swallowed down hard. You and your husband had agreed to keep Koda out of kindergarten. It was a hard decision to make but considering the risk of possibly losing your son over one kid who might end up giving him a cold, you took the risk. You made the efforts to have him play with friends and other young children like him who also often get sick, you made sure to always spend time with him and when your friends were over, you always asked them to make sure they were as healthy as possible and not to come over if they were sick and then Koda could spend time with everyone else.
But you knew, regardless, it would be suffocating for him.
"Koda, until you're just a little bit older and stronger, then we can talk to the doctors about getting you into school, but right now, your body can't handle being sick so well."
Koda frowned, folding his arms away from you as tears weld up in his beautiful eyes. You saw the pout on his face as he started to cry in frustration. "It's not fair!"
"I know, baby." You said trying to fight back emotions that you were feeling yourself. You moved to grab a hold of him but he started to fight back.
"It's not fair! IT'S NOT FAIR!" He screamed. "I hate it! I hate it! I hate you! Why can't I be normal!!" He shouted, sobbing as you held him in your arms.
You closed your eyes, feeling tears slip down from them no matter how hard you tried. You swallowed down hard as you tried not to let out anymore. You didn't want Kane to see you like this, you didn't want Koda to see you like this. But no matter how many therapy sessions and talking to Izuku, it never got any easier.
Giving birth to a child with primary immune disorder was something that you felt as though was entirely your fault. You knew it wasn't, but it never felt true.
"I WANT TO GO OUTSIDE!"
"I know. I know, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." You held him as he cried in your arms, screaming and sobbing in your chest. You held him tightly, making sure that he knew you were there. "I'm sorry."
Kane walked over to you, grabbing a fluffy blanket from Koda's bed to wrap around you. You gave him a sad smile as you held Koda. Kane was quiet on his feet, working fast as he quickly stuck the needle in the bottle, drawing out liquid and walking to the IV to push in the medication. He moved fast and quietly, reminding you of his father as he moved around shuffling in his slippers.
Koda had relaxed in your arms, tired and crying in your arms softly. Kane crouched down with the needle connected to the IV. He wiped Koda's arms with a disinfectant wipe before expertly putting in the IV in his arm. He put a dinosaur band-aid over it so it wouldn't come out.
You sat with Koda till he was fast asleep. At some point, Kane had left and grabbed dinner for you and Koda, however Koda was still very sleepy so he barely ate. His medication making him drowsy as he slept in your arms.
A hand came onto your shoulder, making you look up. Your husband looked down at you with a sad expression. It was just you and him with your little one in your arms. Izuku carefully moved down to sit down next to you. He easily moved to pick you up, despite you holding your son in your arms and he put you into his lap.
You leaned back against his chest, a tear slipping out of your eye as you stared into space.
"Kane told me what happened." He spoke softly as he rested his head on yours. He rubbed your arms as he held you in his big embrace.
"Izuku." You let out weakly as you titled your head to look up at him. "I... Have I failed him?" You asked softly as you turned to look down at Koda. "I'm his mother. I'm supposed to protect him. I was supposed to give him a healthy body. Why- why couldn't I-"
Before you could break down, your husband wrapped his arms, pulling you to face into his chest as he held you and his son in his large arms. He shushed you as your face broke into a sob. You felt a large hand move to wipe away your face.
"It is not your fault." He reminded you. "It is never your fault and it will never be your fault. It's no one's fault." You felt a kiss to your forehead. "Our son just needs a little more help and precautions than others and that's okay. He's going to be okay. He is okay." You nodded your head, wanting to believe in his words and not your own.
Your husband tilted your head up to look at him. Your eyes moved up to land on his face. Tears were in his beautiful green eyes as he looked down at you, a sad smile on his freckled face. You saw pain in his eyes as well. He leaned down and put his forehead against your own, making you close your eyes with a stuttered breath.
His eyebrows furrowed as he held you tight, a hand brushing your arm and Koda's. "We're doing this together, okay?"
You nodded your head, softly. "Okay."
"I'll take tomorrow off." You opened your eyes to look up at him, surprised. "Lets spend sometime with him together. I can pull some strings and..." Izuku hesitated, "If you agree, I can book out the aquarium tomorrow. We can take out all the boys and just focus on Koda. I think it would mean a lot to him."
"But... but what about work?" You asked him softly. "Didn't the minister ask you to-"
He shook his head. "It isn't urgent. It's just feedback on an diplomatic meeting, nothing more. Besides, nothing matters more than you and the boys." You gave him a grateful smile as that. Izuku smiled, before looking down at your youngest boy. He brushed his hand through Koda's soft green hair. "You know despite everything..." You saw him smile as he looked down at his son, a sort of pride that you always saw whenever he held his sons for the first time. "I don't regret a thing."
You paused, turning to look at Koda who slept in your arms. You smiled gently. "Yah. Not a thing."
-Glitch1d
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i feel like sometimes we all get so distracted by bobby’s line in the pilot that the 118 is not a family that we forget in that same speech he says buck calls him “pops” and they went to a springsteen concert together. anyway if anything bad happens to our father bobby nash i’m going to cause an international incident.
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ladysharmaa · 22 days
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Heir
Anthony Bridgerton x reader
summary: telling Anthony she's with child after facing difficulties getting pregnant
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It's been three years since the wedding between Anthony Bridgerton and Y/n. The love between the two was one of the strongest anyone could have ever seen, it was obvious that they were made for each other.
They met in a very unusual way. While Anthony was courting Edwina Sharma, Y/n was seen very close to Benedict, the two of them discreetly courting each other. However, they both quickly realized that the connection between them was better as a friendship than a romantic relationship, where things seemed quite forced and uncomfortable. At the same time, Viscount Bridgerton had also broken up with Edwina after she had doubts on their wedding day.
Y/n remembered that day perfectly. She was sitting next to Benedict and the Bridgerton family on the chairs waiting for Edwina to appear and the wedding to begin. She waved a fan, trying to alleviate the horrible heat in that room. The delay seemed to make everyone nervous, especially Anthony who had drops of sweat falling from his forehead and was speaking hurriedly to his mother.
Finally, the doors opened, but, to everyone's surprise, it wasn't Edwina walking down the aisle, it was Kate Sharma, her sister. She didn't look happy, walking with an air of confidence and a serious expression, her eyes never leaving Anthony. The two exchanged quick words, until Anthony dropped his head and closed his eyes in frustration, but he still nodded and Kate left.
After a few tense seconds, Anthony finally had the courage to look at the people watching the scene and said that the wedding had been cancelled, before leaving the room too, leaving the murmur that formed.
"What a scandal." a lady gossiped with another, the two starting a conversation about what could have happened, some theories being completely ridiculous and that could ruin the family's reputation.
Y/n couldn't help herself and turned to them with a polite but sarcastic smile. "My apologies for interrupting, but the only scandal here is the fact that your son, who decided to be a priest, got so many prostitutes pregnant that only they could fill an entire line of these."
The woman gasped in horror while Benedict, who was listening to the conversation, had difficulty containing his laughter. "You foolish girl, how dare—"
"Excuse me, but I have better things to do than sit here and imagine what could have happened." Y/n got up from her chair, looking at the women one last time before going to try and find Anthony.
Despite being acquaintances, since Y/n was so close to Benedict, the two had never spoken much. However, the woman was still worried about Viscount. When she found him, sitting on the porch floor with his head in his hands, Y/n kept him company, also sitting in silence. From then on, a relationship was formed between the two that quickly became inseparable.
"My love, daydreaming again?" Anthony hummed, breaking Y/n out of his thoughts. The man wrapped his shoulders around her waist and pulled her closer, gently kissing her head. "What are you thinking about?"
"How lucky I am."
"Well, I'm the lucky one. I have a beautiful wife who I love very much. I couldn't live without you." he confessed, causing a blush to appear on her cheeks as it always did when he pronounced his love for her. "I have to go finish some paperwork, but then I'll come see you so we can go visit Daphne's son."
Y/n nodded, giving him a quick kiss and sighing as she watched him go to his office. Daphne had just had her second child, a beautiful baby boy. The couple was going to visit the family so that Y/n could help with whatever her sister-in-law needed while Anthony and Simon were going to entertain the baby's brother, a toodler who demanded a lot of attention.
Even though Y/n loved their children with all her heart, it only reminded her of what she couldn't give Anthony. The couple had been trying to get pregnant since they got married, but without success. Anthony's wife had already cried on his shoulder many times because she couldn't carry the child, her heart breaking every time she started her period.
Even though the Bridgerton man assured her several times that all he needed to be happy was her, Y/n still wanted to give him a heir. She wanted the house to be full of their children's laughter and for them to be able to create a mini version of them, a product of their love.
However, he tried not to occupy his days thinking solely about that. It was enough of all the doctors she had seen who told her that it was her fault, that her womb was not capable of developing a baby. Of course, Anthony, as soon as he heard those accusations and the look of complete heartbreak from his wife, demanded that they leave his house.
Y/n she couldn't take the blame anymore, going into a state of shock and for three days she refused to get out of bed. However, her husband would not accept that. He just wanted her to be happy, even if they never had children.
"We don't need children to be happy, I only need you. We have so many nieces and nephews who can take on my role, and we can take care of them from time to time, I'm sure my siblings wouldn't mind." Y/n remembered Anthony telling her this firmly, his hands grabbing her cheeks as they both had tears in their eyes.
And since then, they've never brought it up again.
───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────
"Lady Bridgerton, are you feeling alright?" one of the maids asked worriedly when she saw Y/n enter the dining room for breakfast, immediately turning paler when she smelled the eggs. "Should I fetch for Viscount Bridgerton?"
She had time to shake her head before running to the nearest bathroom, dropping herself onto the cold floor and emptying the contents of her stomach. She could feel tears forming in her eyes, gagging at the sour taste that remained in her mouth. With unsteady legs, she got up and went to wash her mouth, the maids who entered the bathroom right after her helped her to hold herself upright.
However, she quickly realized that she wasn't finished yet when a new wave of nausea consumed her and she knelt again in front of the toilet. She felt strong hands, which she recognized as Anthony's, caress her face before grabbing her hair.
"Oh, Anthony…" she moaned in discomfort. "I don't want you to see me like this."
"Hey, none of that. Come here, love." he comforted, helping turn her around and supporting her against the wall when she was finished. He took a towel and started wiping her mouth.
When Y/n had the strength to open her eyes, she saw her husband's face analyzing her closely, looking for anything that could be wrong. The concern that swam in his eyes made her raise a hand and rest it on his cheek, and he turned slightly to be able to give her a lingering kiss on her palm.
"How are you feeling? I'm going to call the doctor. Are you okay with staying with one of the maids until I get back?"
Y/n held his arm, preventing him from getting up. "No, please don't go. I'm alright now. If this continues, I promise you can call the doctor, this is probably an one time thing. Let's not worry about it."
Anthony sighed, locked in a staring contest with the most important woman in his life. Accepting defeat, but with a serious look that screamed that if that happened again she would see a doctor, the Viscount picked up Y/n, carrying her to their bed.
Laying her down gently and helping Y/n take off her dress, the man pulled the covers up, making sure she was comfortable. Afterwards, he took off his shirt and pants, lying down next to her.
"What are you doing? We can't be in bed already, especially you. It's only morning, we still have many obligations to fulfill."
"No. My wife is not feeling well, and I'm going to take care of her. The paperwork can wait, as well as all my meetings. I just want you to be healthy." Anthony brought her closer to him, Y/n resting her head on his chest so she could hear his heartbeat. "Now, sleep. You need it."
───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────
It happened again. More specifically, two more times Y/n threw up her meals. The first time, she was alone and not wanting to worry anyone, she preferred to remain silent. After all, she could still be recovering from some kind of illness. The second time, it was in the presence of her most trusted maid, who she considered a friend, Joanne. And so she begged her not to tell the Bridgerton man about it, claiming she would see someone.
Alone, because in addition to feeling sick, she also realized that her period, which was always regular, should have already arrived. Her first thought was that she was pregnant. But upon thinking better, she questioned this possibility. After so many years of trying and failing, why would she be pregnant now? There must be another explanation.
However, she did not share these possibilities with Anthony because the last thing she wanted was to give him hope only to end up disappointed with her inability to give him a heir. Fortunately, Joanne accompanied her, helping Y/n explain to the doctor why the Viscount wasn't there with her.
And when she left that office, she could feel her legs losing strength. She placed a hand on her chest, starting to find it difficult to breathe in completely, still shocked by what the doctor had said to her.
Pregnant.
She was carrying Anthony's child in her womb, something they thought to be impossible. She was going to be a mother. Even though Anthony always assured her that he was completely happy with just her, Y/n knew that he would love being a father. At the beginning of their marriage, he had revealed to her that he dreamed of their family, their chhildren running through the garden while he chased after them and Y/n watched while sitting under the shade, her hand on her swollen belly.
And, by a miracle, this dream could become reality.
"Lady Bridgerton, are you ready to return to the mansion?" Joanne questioned after Y/n sat down in the carriage, her hands shaking together in her lap. Her gaze was understanding, in case she needed a few more moments alone to process this, but her lips held a small smile.
"I'm going to be a mother." she whispered.
"A wonderful, beautiful mother, I'm sure. Congratulations, Lady Bridgerton." she smiled, feeling enormous happiness for Y/n. She knew how much the couple had suffered. "Shall we return?"
Y/n nodded, no longer trusting her voice to speak. The woman took advantage of the short trip to process everything that was happening and before she knew it she was already in front of Anthony's office door.
With barely controlled excitement, she knocked on the door, waiting for permission to enter. When she heard Anthony's voice, she timidly opened the door, seeing that her husband was gathered with his brothers.
"Oh, my apologies. I didn't know your brothers were here. I can come back later."
"Nonsense, love. They can just leave." Anthony said, leaning back in his chair and opening his arms, an invitation for Y/n to come to him. The man, after already having Y/n in his arms, looked at Benedict and Collin, who were looking at him with a smirk. "Did you not hear? I told you to leave."
"Anthony, be nice!"
"It's not a problem, Y/n, we know when we are not wanted. Come on, Benedict, let's leave the lovebirds alone." Collin teased, getting up with his brother and leaving the room, but first, he took Y/n's hand and brought it to his lips. Benedict, for instance, kissed her cheek in a brotherly way. Despite their farewell with Y/n, Anthony was completely ignored by his brothers.
"Did you need something?" the man asked, putting all of his attention on Y/n, who began to fidget with her fingers nervously.
"Actually, I have to tell you something. I went to the doctor today…"
"What? Y/n, why didn't you tell me? Did you feel bad again? Nauseous? What did the doctor say? Are you okay?"
"Calm down, my love. I'm better than fine. I'm sorry I didn't tell you about being sick again, but I didn't want to worry you." she admitted, feeling guilty that Anthony was feeling precisely what she didn't want. "Well, I received some very interesting news."
"Please, just tell me what's wrong. I can't bear not knowing if something is wrong with you." he muttered with a pained look, as if he felt physical pain when thinking about the possibility of Y/n being hurt or unwell.
"Anthony…" she said his name with so much love that he shuddered. "I'm pregnant."
A silence formed in the room. Anthony took so long to react, just looking at her intensely as if he didn't know what was true or not, that Y/n began to feel worry invade her system. Was he not happy? Did he not want a child with her anymore?
"W-What?" Anthony finally managed to whisper, his heart having stopped as soon as he heard those words. "You're pregnant? With my child?"
"Well, obviously." Y/n rolled her eyes. "Are you happy?"
"Happy? My love, I'm more than happy. I love you so much. And I love our child too." the man kissed her fiercely, needing to convey all his love and adoration for her in that kiss.
He was addicted to his wife's lips, and now that he knew she was carrying his child, something animalistic was released inside him. Without giving any warning, he grabbed Y/n and twirled her around, without ever taking his lips off hers. Even so, Y/n giggled against them, circling her hands around his neck and holding on tight.
When her feet touched the floor, the Viscount knelt in front of her, his hands resting hesitantly on her stomach. He looked at Y/n in permission, who just nodded in encouragement and placed her hand on his brown hair, stroking his scalp.
Very gently, Anthony kissed his wife's still flat stomach. "Hello, you. I'm your father and I love you and your mother very much. You two are my entire life."
And the two stayed like that for the rest of the day, moving to the bedroom where Anthony continued to talk to Y/n's belly while exchanging passionate kisses with her. A beautiful new stage had begun in their lives, and they couldn't wait to meet their heir.
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spirits-having-flown · 7 months
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“matthew, it is with heavy heart i say goodbye. the times we had together are honestly among the favorite times of my life. it was an honor to share the stage with you and to call you my friend. i will always smile when i think of you and i’ll never forget you. never. spread your wings and fly brother, you’re finally free. much love. and i guess you’re keeping the 20 bucks you owe me.” - matt leblanc
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“i am so grateful for every moment i had with you matty and i miss you every day. when you work with someone as closely as i did with matthew, there are thousands of moments i wish i could share. for now here's one of my favorites. to give a little backstory, chandler and monica were supposed to have a one night fling in london. but because of the audience's reaction, it became the beginning of their love story. in this scene, before we started rolling, he whispered a funny line for me to say. he often did things like that. he was funny and he was kind. 🤍🕊️" - courteney cox
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“oh boy this one has cut deep... having to say goodbye to our matty has been an insane wave of emotions that i've never experienced before. we all experience loss at some point in our lives. loss of life or loss of love. being able to really sit in this grief allows you to feel the moments of joy and gratitude for having loved someone that deep. and we loved him deeply. he was such a part of our dna. we were always the 6 of us. this was a chosen family that forever changed the course of who we were and what our path was going to be. for matty, he knew he loved to make people laugh. as he said himself, if he didn't hear the 'laugh' he thought he was going to die. his life literally depended on it. and boy did he succeed in doing just that. he made all of us laugh. and laugh hard. in the last couple weeks, i've been pouring over our texts to one another. laughing and crying then laughing again. i'll keep them forever and ever. i found one text that he sent me out of nowhere one day. it says it all. matty, i love you so much and i know you are now completely at peace and out of any pain. i talk to you every day... sometimes i can almost hear you saying "could you BE any crazier?" rest little brother. you always made my day... ❤️🕊️” - jennifer aniston
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“matty, thank you for ten incredible years of laughter and creativity. i will never forget your impeccable comic timing and delivery. you could take a straight line of dialogue and bend it to your will, resulting in something so entirely original and unexpectedly funny it still astonishes. and you had heart. which you were generous with, and shared with us, so we could create a family out of six strangers. this photo is from one of my favorite moments with you. now it makes me smile and grieve at the same time. i imagine you up there, somewhere, in the same white suit, hands in your pockets, looking around— "Could there BE any more clouds?” “ - david schwimmer
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“shot the pilot, friends like us, got picked up then immediately, we were at the nbc upfronts. then... you suggested we play poker and made it so much fun while we initially bonded. thank you for that. thank you for making me laugh so hard at something you said, that my muscles ached, and tears poured down my face every day. thank you for your open heart in a six way relationship that required compromise. and a lot of "talking." thank you for showing up at work when you weren't well and then, being completely brilliant. thank you for the best 10 years a person gets to have. thank you for trusting me. thank you for all I learned about grace and love through knowing you. thank you for the time i got to have with you, matthew.” - lisa kudrow
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friends cast remembers matthew perry 🤍🕊️
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yandere-daydreams · 6 months
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Title: Loving Suffocation.
A Continuation Of This Piece.
Written for a very lovely, very indulgent anonymous commissioner.
Pairing: Yandere!Loid x Reader x Yandere!Yor (SxF).
Word Count: 4k.
TW: Non/Con, AFAB!Reader, Slight Somnophilia, Spanking, Sex Toys, Breeding, Mentions of Pregnancy, Medical Malpractice, Oral Sex, Obsessive Behavior, Slight Gaslighting, Bruising/Marking, and Overstimulation.
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You never did get to see your opera. A lack of oxygen turned your cramped world blurry and abstract, and you faded in and out of consciousness while Yor fussed over your ruined dress and gathered you up in her arms, the strip of fabric she’d tied around your neck and stuffed in your mouth – not quite a gag, but enough to convince your uncooperative vocal cords that calling for help wouldn’t be worth the effort. Sometime between being pulled against Yor’s chest and slipping out of that sex-saturated storage closet, you blinked and by the time you could find the strength to open your eyes again, you were in your apartment, in your own bed, your makeshift gag gone and your wrists bound  behind your back with a generous amount of duct tape. You briefly considered calling for help, but you were past the point of screaming. Even if you tried, the Forgers were your only neighbors close enough to hear, and you’d seen enough of enough of that family for a lifetime.
Just as exhaustion began to overwhelm your better judgement, you caught stifled footsteps in the near distance, heard the door to your bedroom creak open and shut with enough force to shake the drywall. This time, when you closed your eyes, it was in a deliberate effort to will yourself to sleep. An effort that was, of course, rendered futile by Yor’s hand on your forehead, a soft hum too tender to be purposefully deceptive. “I think they might be asleep. The poor thing could barely hold their eyes open.”
“That’s fine.” Instantly, your heart dropped into the pit of your stomach. He spoke quietly, keeping his voice low and airy, but even in worst dreams, Loid seemed to be able to carve out a place for himself. It made sense for him to make an appearance in this nightmare, too. “Can you show me where the damage is?”
You held your breath as Yor’s hand drifted from your face to your thigh. After a moment of hesitation, she nudged you onto your back, pulling the ragged remains of your skirt up to your waist. You fought not to bolt up as cold air washed over your exposed, abused cunt – not to ball your fists as you felt Loid’s narrowed eyes pry into you the way they always seemed to when you passed each other in the hall, when he got home before you could find a reason to get out of the Forgers’ suffocating apartment. You managed to hold yourself still as he clicked his tongue, edging that much closer to the foot of your bed. You could picture him leaning over you, perfectly styled blonde hair falling ever so slightly out of place as he took long, agonizing seconds to evaluate the bruises lining the inside of your thighs, the crescent-shaped marks Yor’s nails had left pressed in your hips, your waist. Calloused fingertips brushed over your ankle, but further restraint was deemed unnecessary as his attention shifted back to his wife. “And you said you found them…?”
“Unconscious,” she filled in. You could hear her shifting her weight, feigning concern as her husband evaluated you. “In front of our building. I tried to wake them up, but they panicked, and I remembered the treatment you told me about for—for hysteria.” She paused, swallowed. “I thought I could help, but I’m afraid I might’ve just made things worse…”
Loid’s response was delayed, put off in favor of inching that much closer to you. The mattress dipped as he rested a knee on the foot of your bed. Don’t move, you repeated to yourself, despite the ever-growing urge to get up and run gnawing violently at the back of your mind. If you pretended to be asleep, you’d only have to tolerate a few minutes of his attention before he got tired of leering at your conscious body. If you pretended to be asleep, they’d leave and you could start to forget this ever happened.
It got harder to be so rational as he reached out, running two fingers over your slit and splitting apart the lips of your pussy, giving himself a better view of your abused clit, your entrance – still pitifully drooling slick. You tried to remember what kind of doctor he was, but any specialties that might’ve come to mind were immediately forgotten as his gloved fingers slipped inside of you. You had to bite back a quiet hiss as he scissored open the sore walls of your cunt, his touch probing and experimental. At least Yor had the decency not to draw it out. “You reacted swiftly and efficiently. Even trained paramedics leave residual damage.” He drew back suddenly, and you fought not to jolt at his callousness. “Can you show me what exactly your…” He trailed off. You could practically hear the curiosity in his voice. “…your treatment entailed?”
Yor made a noise you couldn’t decipher. Loid moved away from you entirely, but Yor was quick to take his place. She settled into the space between your legs, her hands – shaking ever so slightly – taking up your hips, her fingertips near-perfectly aligned with the dark bruises pressed into your skin. You felt her breath ghost over the inside of your thighs, the flat of her tongue run gingerly over your slit, and you bolted upward on instinct, mouth open and ready to—
—ready to have your scream stifled and suffocated by Loid’s palm as he forced his hand over your mouth and shoved you back into the mattress. Unable to claw at his arm, to pry him off of you, you thrashed under his steadfast hold, but he didn’t seem to pay you any mind. Rather, his eyes met yours for all of half a second before flickering to his wife, sparing her a slight nod. “Patients usually react with some level of resistance. You can go on.”
Yor’s eyes widened, but any shock she might’ve felt seemed to melt away at her husband’s assurance. She was more nervous, now that she was performing for an audience rather than assaulting you in the privacy of her chosen hideaway, but the little, tentative movements of her tongue got braver over time, her eyes closing as her hands drifted from your waist to your thighs. She nudged your legs onto her shoulders and latched onto your clit, suckling with just enough force to draw a reaction out of your burnt-out nerves, to leave you trembling and struggling to swallow back pained moans and pathetic whimpers. It hurt – more than anything, it hurt – but she had your body trained, knew just what points to hit to get what she wanted out of you. More than that, your body knew that it wasn’t going to end until she reached her goal, until she had you cumming on her tongue for the— god, how many times would this make? You’d lost track after the first dozen, but even if you hadn’t, it would’ve been impossible to tell, impossible to know what she’d accomplished the first time reality started to blur and consciousness was rendered more of revokable privilege than something you’d ever be capable of holding on to without help. In less than a minute, you were grinding against her tongue involuntarily, the movement of your hips stilted and jerky. You couldn’t have called it a real orgasm, not when any pleasure you could’ve felt was so overshadowed by a searing sort of ache, but Yor seemed satisfied – drawing the back of her hand over her chin as she lifted her head, sending Loid a sheepish smile.
“I just, uh,” she started, drumming her fingers over your thigh. “I just did that until they calmed down. I’m not sure if it helped.”
“I see.” Loid, for his part, failed to let his air of stoic professionalism so much as waver.  “And how many times did the patient reach climax?”
“…thirty?” Yor let out an airy, nervous laugh. “Maybe more. It… It was a little hard to keep track, in the moment.”
“And they’re still so unruly.” He was kind enough to feign concern, to let his tone soften and purse his lips into a thin frown. For a second, you let yourself believe that you’d just stumbled into a bad situation – that he and his wife were under some shared delusion and genuinely thought they might’ve been helping you, but then you caught a spec of crimson on the collar of Yor’s dress out of the corner of your eye and thought better of trying to humanize them. “Would you mind if I took a closer look?”
The question was posed to Yor, not you. “Please do, you’re the doctor here,” she spouted, hurrying to get out of Loid’s way. Loid was more hesitant, his palm lingering over your mouth as his eyes found yours. He was cold at the best of times – his expression often hollow when he thought your attention was elsewhere, his touch enough to send a chill down your spine on the rare occasion he found an excuse to put his hands on you – but the look he sent you as he uncovered your mouth was nothing short of frigid. The threat was clear, albeit ambiguous. You had no idea what Loid was capable of, let alone what extremes he was willing to go to.
But, you knew what Yor could do – you’d caught her in the act.
And you weren’t eager to find out what’d she’d do to you at her husband’s request.
When his hand finally fell away from your mouth, you didn’t make a sound. Rather, you dug your teeth into the inside of your cheek as Loid wrapped an arm around your waist and hauled you onto his lap – his thighs cutting harshly into your stomach. The position was enough to leave your cheeks burning and humiliation tying knots in the back of your throat, but whatever embarrassment you might’ve felt was multiplied ten-fold as his hand ghosted over the buttons lining the back of your dress and your only remaining protective barrier fell away – mutilated fabric now limp and useless beneath you. You started to writhe, but the heel of Loid’s palm found the small of your back, pressing into the base of your spine with just enough force a pained whimper past your lips. Reflectively, Yor moved to reach towards you, but Loid shook his head. “It’s important to test for reactiveness,” he explained, tone flat and steely. “I can take care of bruises and cuts, but lasting nerve damage will make things—” He paused, clicked his tongue. “—difficult.”
“Oh!” Yor clapped her hands together. At least she seemed to sincerely believe that, even if she wasn’t helping you, her husband might be. You couldn’t tell what Loid was thinking, but it couldn’t have been so benevolent. “Is that what you’re doing now? Testing for reactiveness?”
“Exactly.” Loid flashed her a smile. You felt him shift, fish something out of the pocket of his suit jacket. Aching numbness had put you at a distance from his invasive touch before, but Yor’s mouth had done away with that – resurrecting the buzzing sort of hyper-sensitivity that meant you weren’t able to hide the way your hips bucked against his thigh as he slid something sleek and metallic into your drenched pussy. It was oddly shaped – one end tapered and the other flat, small enough to fit in the palm of your hand but still big enough to leave you squirming uncomfortably as Loid pulled back. “Normally, I’d use more intricate equipment, but there are a few experiments I can run on my own.”
You heard nails against metal, a soft click muffled by stiff machinery. After a second of delay, the object inside of you let out an abrupt pulse of pure vibration – harsh and sudden and awful. Your reaction was reflexive, undisguisable. You threw your head forward as you bit back a bubbling, broken moan; waves of intense reverberation beating at the walls of your cunt. There was no time to brace yourself, to grow into the piercing sting – it was already too much. The walls of your pussy clenched around the source of your agony, and before you could think to stifle your reactions, to give them as little as you possibly could, tears were blurring your vision, dripping down your cheeks. Yor cooed, kneeling in front of you and cupping your cheeks. “Poor thing…” she mumbled, before looking up towards Loid. “I don’t think they’re enjoying it.”
Another wave of pulsing reverberation, a jagged cry forced past your lips. “P-please, turn it off, take it out, I can’t—”
It took you a second to process the sound of a palm against flesh, how it might’ve been connected to the bright flash of pain just below the curve of your ass. When you could bring yourself to glance over your shoulder, his hand was raised, his expression stern. The sight was enough to make your heart ache in your chest – a sensitivity which surprised you. You hadn’t thought there was anything the Forgers could do to hurt you more than they already had.
“We’re going out of our way to help you.” It was the same tone he used with Anya when she refused to do her homework or threatened to drop out of her upper-crust academy. Whatever genuine sympathy he might’ve had for you was buried beneath a heavy layer of practiced stoicism and nearly totalitarian authority, turning the words cold where they should’ve been comforting. “It’s unfair to be so ungrateful when Yor’s already sacrificed so much of her time for the sake of your health. Why don’t you apologize to her?”
Again, you heard that same soft click, and the vibrations pulsing out of the object in your cunt doubled in intensity. You let your head fall forward, clenching your eyes shut as you struggled to spit something out. “I… I’m sorry, Yor, I didn’t mean to—”
You were cut off by a sharp moan, the feeling of Loid’s fingers tracing over your slit. Soon, the pad of his thumb found your clit, pushing dull circles into the sensitive bundle of nerves. He let out an airy chuckle as you withered into yourself, your legs spreading involuntarily as your feet struggled to find purchase on carpeting that seemed to be just an inch too far, to ground yourself on something that Loid didn’t even have to try to keep just out of your grasp. “Don’t strain yourself,” he muttered, your unwanted reward for your easy compliance. “How does this—” He pushed a rough pattern into your clit, drawing out a wavering cry. “—feel?”
Miserable. Torturous. The worst thing that’d ever been inflected onto your poor, spent body. You deflated, your chest flattening against Loid’s thighs. “…it hurts.”
This time, he let you finish before pulling back, his palm striking your ass with twice the force he’d used before. You cried out, the noise uneven and anguished, but your pain didn’t seem to rank very high on his nebulous list of concerns. “I’ve already told you not to be so ungrateful,” he said, shaking his head. “Do you know what would’ve happened if we weren’t here to help you?” Another strike, another ragged sob. “You’d be suffering on your own, in excruciating pain and spiraling into your own delusions. If we hadn’t been there to correct you so quickly, you would’ve been unrecoverable.”
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” You were babbling, now, your apologies clumped together and nearly unintelligible. Loid cut in, pointed as ever.
“You’ve already apologized.” Two digits slipped into you, splitting your pussy open. Somehow, the added stimulation only seemed to make his device’s vibration more unbearable. “Now, it’s time to tell Yor how thankful you are.”
“Thank you—” There was no hesitation, no resistance. If you’d been able to, if you hands hadn’t been bound, you would’ve clung to her, dug your nails into her shoulder and your teeth into Loid’s thigh, anything to feel like you weren’t about to fall apart altogether. “Thank you, I’m so— I can’t— Thank you—”
It was Yor, this time – her mouth crashing against yours as her hand found the back of your head. Her tongue slipped past your lips, raking over yours with a ginger sort of tenderness and raking her fingers through your hair, drinking down every little moan and whimper her husband forced out of you with enthusiasm. She lingered there, lips moving gently against yours, as you reached your next climax – the number completely lost on you, now. When she pulled away, eyes glazed over and a dark blush painted over her cheeks, Loid hummed approvingly, fishing his bullet-shaped device out of your pussy and switching it off. Slick dripped down the inside of your thighs, your chest heaving stiltedly against his lap, and you noticed, for the first time, something large and stiff pressing into your stomach. For your own sake, you decided you weren’t going to think about it.
But, like always, Loid was quick to tear even the comfort you found in your own mind away from you.
“You did what you could,” Loid started, with heavy sigh. “But their condition is worse than I thought. It might take more than the usual treatment to set them back on the right path.” A lengthy pause, an arm looped underneath you. With more care than he’d seen fit to show you all night, Loid repositioned you on your back in the center of your bed. You were too exhausted to so much as try to protest. “For cases like this, insemination is the only known cure.”
Yor blinked up at him, more curious than confused. “Insemination?”
“Pregnancy,” Loid filled in. “It can be done artificially, but for cases this severe…”
Your heart dropped into your stomach. Weakly, you tried to sit up, but it was Yor that stopped you, this time, pressing her hand flat against your shoulder and pinning you down effortlessly. “If that’s what’s best,” she chimed, her smile wide and brilliant. “Can I help?”
For the first time, Loid’s expression seemed to warm. “Of course.”
Less than a full minute later, you were slotted against Yor, your head resting on her chest and her arms loosely wrapped around your midriff. Loid had reclaimed his position in the space between your open legs, one hand on your hip and the other toying with his clothes, shifting the waist of his now-wrinkled dress pants down just far enough to free his flush cock – already hard, already leaking pearls of arousal. The sight, paired with the breathy sigh he let out as he wrapped his fist around his shaft, was enough to dash any hopes you might’ve had of a last-minute change of heart.
You squirmed in Yor’s hold, your fists balling around your own near ruined sheets as Loid aligned himself with your entrance. You didn’t realize you were talking until you heard your own voice, fragile and desperate, nearly too broken to be comprehensible. “Please don’t, I—I’m not sick, please don’t—”
It was Yor who hushed you, this time, smiling as she pressed a fleeting kiss into your cheek. “He’s going to help you,” she whispered, tone simpering where you wished it would be sterile. “You can just sit back and relax while we—” She paused, squeezed you against her playfully. “—make sure you’re alright.”
There was a beat of silence, of stillness. Eventually, you managed to stutter out, “I don’t want your help.”
Loid let out an airy chuckle, tracing the flushed tipped of his cock over your slit. “You don’t have to want anything.” He bowed his head, leaning down far enough to rest his lips against the top of your head. “You’ll need all the help you can get, in a few weeks.”
You didn’t have time to protest, not before he thrust into you – sheathing himself to the hilt in a single stroke.
You tried to scream, but Yor’s mouth found yours in a moment, swallowing any fractured noises you might’ve been able to make. Loid didn’t seem interested in giving you time to adjust; immediately falling into a rhythm just as forceful and just as cruel as anything else he’d done to you. It wasn’t a question of if it would hurt, anymore, but how badly. The feeling of his not inconsiderably length splitting open your aching pussy alone was enough to bring tears to your eyes, and his rough thrusts, his shattering pace – all of it only working to agitate the few parts of you that hadn’t already gone numb to his assult. You clenched your eyes shut, willing yourself to go completely numb, but Yor cooed, one of her hands falling away from you only to find its way to the curve of your stomach, her palm soon pressed flat against your skin. “Miss Anya did mention wanting a younger sister,” she muttered, nuzzling into the dip of your shoulder. “It’ll be difficult to hide, ‘till it’s over with. There used to be a single mother working at city hall, but the State Security Service paid her a visit and…” She trailed off, shaking her head. “But I’m sure that won’t be an issue for you!”
“Of course not.” Loid’s voice was breathy, his attention mostly elsewhere. He did his best to stay composed, to maintain that painstakingly professionally air, but you could feel him twitch inside of you, feel his hips stutter as his pace grew that much more brutal. “We’ll be taking care of you. When you start to show, you’ll move in with us, and—” A groan, a pair of tired eyes allowed to close. “—and if you cooperate, we’ll make it so you don’t have to worry about anything aside from the baby. Any added stress will only make the pregnancy more difficult.”
Loid’s hips pressed against yours, Yor’s mouth on the curve of your neck. “Our little family is growing so quickly.” You could feel her grin against your throat, fangs ready to clamp down at the first sign of resistance. “I can’t wait until you’re better. You’ll be so happy, when you’re in your right mind again.”
Your mouth fell open, but anything you might’ve said died in your throat long before it could ever reach your tongue. There was no pleasure to it, no stimulation other than the same grating sensation and the pinpoints of pressure where Loid’s fingertips dug into your waist, but if your comfort mattered to Loid, he would’ve stopped as soon as he saw what his wife did to you. He cursed under his breath, throwing his hand forward and hauling your rigid body that much closer to his. You didn’t have a chance to brace yourself, to trick your pain-addled mind into believing there was anything you could possibly do to get away from him before he went still, something thick and searing flooding into your unprotected cunt. He lingered there, his cum leaking out of you despite your pussy’s futile attempts to cling to his cock, and for the first time, you let yourself think about what they were taking about – insemination, pregnancy, growing families and new siblings. You let yourself acknowledge the weight of Yor’s hand against your stomach, Loid’s hips against yours. You let yourself breath in, holding the air in your lungs for a moment before exhaling and going limp against Yor.
Fuck.
If you never saw the Forgers again, it’d still be a day too soon.
Yor started to pull away from you, but Loid stopped her. “Conception can be fickle,” he started, fighting not to pant audibly. “It’d be for the best if we were…” His eyes dropped to you. “…thorough.”
“Do you hear that?” Her hold grew that much tighter, her smile that much brighter. Her lips ghosted over the shell of your ear. The feeling might’ve sent a chill down your spine, if you still had the strength to be afraid of them.
“Loid’s going to take very good care of you.”
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signoferoda · 13 days
Text
THE LOVE WE LEFT BEHIND
summary: a fic based on this post by @harrysblackcoat about ex husband!harry
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The bustling aisles of the supermarket were crowded with shoppers, each lost in their own little world of grocery lists and meal plans. Among them, Harry navigated with practiced ease, a small smile playing on his lips as he tossed items into his basket. He glanced at his watch, noting the time. It wouldn't do him any favours being late for their weekly family dinner.
These weekly family dinners were something he cherished, a remnant of the time when things were simpler between him and y/n. Even though they were no longer together, they both agreed to keep the routine for the sake of the kids—and perhaps, for themselves as well.
As Harry scanned the shelves, his eyes landed on a familiar sight. There, nestled among the other sweets, was Y/N's favourite chocolate. Without a second thought, he reached out and grabbed a few bars, adding them to his basket, ignoring the pang of longing in his chest. It was a small gesture, but one that brought a smile to his face, nonetheless. Friendly, he told himself. Just a friendly gesture.
He continued down the aisle, picking up the last few items on the list y/n had sent him when he told her he was popping into Tescos before meeting her at her house. As he turned the corner to the checkout, he couldn't help but think about Y/N. It had been months since their divorce, but the feelings he had for her hadn't diminished. If anything, seeing her every week only made him realise how much he still loved her.
With the groceries bagged and paid for, Harry headed to his car. The drive to Y/N's house was a short one, but it gave him enough time to replay the memories of their time together. The laughter, the late-night talks, the way she used to cuddle up to him on the couch. He sighed, pushing those thoughts away as he pulled into her driveway.
Y/N opened the door before he could knock, a warm smile on her face. "Hey, come on in."
"Hey," he replied, stepping inside and handing her the bags. "Got everything on the list."
She glanced through the bags and paused when she saw the chocolates. "Harry, you didn't have to—"
"I know," he interrupted, his heart beating a little faster. "I saw them and thought of you."
Y/N's heart fluttered at his words, her resolve wavering for a moment.
But then she remembered why they were no longer together-the hurt, the betrayal, the shattered dreams-and she pushed the thought aside.
"Thanks," she said, forcing a smile as she took her seat at the table.
As they moved to the kitchen to put away the groceries, their 4 year old daughter, Blair, came running in. "Daddy!" she squealed, wrapping her small arms around Harry's legs.
Harry scooped her up, laughing. "Hey, my buzzing bee! Missed you."
Blair grinned, his eyes sparkling with excitement. "Missed you too, Daddy."
Y/N watched them, a fond expression on her face. Seeing Harry with their children always tugged at her heartstrings. Despite everything, he was an amazing father, and she couldn't deny the connection they all still shared.
"How's Rosa?" Harry asked, referring to their other daughter.
"She's upstairs napping," Y/N replied. "Should be up soon."
"Good," he said, setting Blair down. "I can't wait to see her."
As they all sat down for dinner after Blair woke up, Harry found himself stealing glances at Y/N. She looked beautiful as always, her laughter lighting up the room. He missed the days when that laughter was for him, when their life was uncomplicated and full of love. But those days were gone, and he had to accept that.
After dinner, as they cleared the table, Harry noticed Y/N sneaking a piece of the chocolate he'd bought. She caught his eye and smiled, a small, private moment that made his heart ache.
"Thanks again for the chocolates," she said quietly.
"Anytime," he replied, wishing he could say more, wishing he could tell her how much he still loved her.
But as the evening drew to a close, Harry knew he had to leave sooner or later. He helped tuck Rosa and Blair into bed. He read them a story, their little faces glowing with happiness. It was moments like these that made everything worth it, even if it was bittersweet. They needed stability, and he wasn't going to let his personal feelings between their mum get in the way.
When it was finally time for him to leave, he lingered at the door, hesitating. Y/N walked him out, the night air cool and crisp around them.
"Thanks for coming," she said, her voice soft.
"Wouldn't miss it for the world," he replied, looking into her eyes. "You know that."
She nodded, and for a brief moment, it felt like old times. Like they were a team again, facing the world together. But the moment passed, and reality set back in.
"Goodnight, Harry," she said, stepping back.
"Goodnight, Y/N," he replied, turning to leave. As he walked to his car, he couldn't help but glance back one last time. She stood in the doorway, watching him, and he wondered if maybe, just maybe, there was still a chance for them.
Driving away, Harry resolved to keep trying. He wasn't ready to give up on her, on their family. He'd keep coming to these dinners, keep being there for the kids, and keep loving her from afar. Because sometimes, love was about persistence, about holding on even when everything seemed lost.
***
A few weeks had passed since that family dinner, and Harry had found himself thinking about Y/N more often than usual. He was determined to win her back, no matter how long it took. The family dinners had become a regular reminder of what they once had, and each time he left her house, he felt a renewed sense of purpose. He knew it wasn't going to be easy, but he was willing to fight for the woman he loved.
One evening, as he was about to head out for their weekly dinner, his phone buzzed with a message from Y/N.
Y/N: Hey, can you come over a bit earlier for dinner tonight? Blair has been asking about you all day.
Harry smiled at his phone, feeling a warmth spread through his chest. He quickly typed back a response.
Harry: Of course. I'll be there in an hour. Kiss the kids for me
He grabbed his keys and headed out, a sense of excitement bubbling up inside him. It wasn't just about seeing the kids; it was about seeing Y/N. Every moment with her was precious, even if it was just for a short while.
When he arrived at Y/N's house, she greeted him at the door with a warm smile. "Hey, come on in. Blair is in the living room, and Rosa is finishing up her nap."
Harry stepped inside, shaking off the rain from his coat. "Thanks for inviting me early."
"Of course," she said, leading him to the living room. "Blair has been looking forward to seeing you."
As soon as Blair saw Harry, her face lit up. "Daddy!" She shouted, running into his arms.
"Hey, bee!" Harry lifted her up, spinning her around before setting her down. "How's my big girl doing?"
Blair giggled, clinging to Harry's leg. "Good! We made cookies today!"
Y/N smiled, watching them. "Yes, we did. And they're cooling in the kitchen if you want to try one."
"I'd love to," Harry said, following Y/N to the kitchen with Blair still attached to his leg.
In the kitchen, the smell of freshly baked cookies filled the air. Harry couldn't help but feel a pang of nostalgia. This used to be their life, their home filled with the simple joys of family. Harry remembers standing in that very kitchen, late at night, answering Y/N's pregnancy cravings so many times he's lost count. They used to joke that Blair inherited a sweet tooth because all Y/N wanted during her pregnancy were the homemade cookies Harry used to bake.
"They smell amazing," Harry said, reaching for a cookie. He took a bite and closed his eyes, savouring the taste. "These are perfect."
Y/N laughed softly. "Glad you like them."
As they stood there, enjoying the cookies and each other's company, Harry felt a sudden impulse to speak up. He wanted to tell her how much he missed her, how much he wanted them to be a family again. But before he could find the words, Amelia's cries echoed from the nursery.
"I'll get her," Y/N said, giving Harry an apologetic look.
"No, let me," Harry offered, already heading towards the nursery.
Y/N hesitated for a moment before nodding. "Okay, thanks."
Harry walked into the nursery, his heart swelling at the sight of his baby girl. Rosa’s big, tear-filled eyes met his, and she instantly stopped crying, reaching out for him. He scooped her up, holding her close. "Hey there, princess. Daddy's here."
Rosa nestled into his shoulder, her tiny fingers clutching his shirt. Harry rocked her gently, humming a lullaby. Moments like these reminded him of the preciousness of family and how much he wanted to be there for every little moment.
When he returned to the living room with Rosa in his arms, he found Blair playing with a puzzle on the floor. “Where’s your mum love?” He asked, setting Rosa down onto the carpet.
“In the kitchen” Blair replied, reaching for another piece of her puzzle.
“Keep an eye on your sister, bee. I’ll be right back” Harry requested as he began making his way to the kitchen. Y/n was stood by the stove, checking on the stir fry she was making.
"Do you need any help?" he offered, standing in the doorway of the kitchen.
Y/N glanced at him, her expression softening. "Sure, you can dry the dishes. The cookies made a right mess" she chuckled softly making Harry smile as he walked over to the dishes.
They worked in companionable silence, the sizzling of the stir fry and clinking of the dishes being the only sounds filling the room. Harry stole a few glances at Y/N, her profile bathed in the soft glow of the setting sun. She looked serene, but he could see the faint lines of worry etched on her face, lines he knew were partly his doing.
As he dried the last dish, Harry finally spoke. "Y/N, there's something I need to tell you."
Y/N looked up, meeting his gaze. "What is it, Harry?"
He took a deep breath, his heart pounding in his chest. "I know I've made mistakes. Big ones. And I know I hurt you. But these past months, spending time with you and the kids, it's reminded me of how much I still love you."
Y/N's eyes widened, surprise and confusion flickering across her face. "Harry, I..."
"Please, just hear me out," he interrupted, his voice earnest. "I know I can't change the past, but I want to make things right. I want us to be a family again. Not just for the kids, but for us. Because I love you, Y/N. I never stopped loving you."
Tears welled up in Y/N's eyes as she listened to his words. She had built walls around her heart to protect herself from the pain, but now those walls were crumbling. She had missed him too—their shared moments, the way he made her feel safe and loved.
"I don't know, Harry," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "I need time to think."
Harry nodded, understanding the gravity of her words. "Take all the time you need. I'll wait for you, Y/N. No matter how long it takes."
***
One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a golden glow over the world, Y/N found herself standing outside Harry's house. Her heart raced as she rang the doorbell, her mind swirling with thoughts and emotions.
When Harry opened the door, his eyes widened in surprise and hope. "Y/N, what are you doing here?"
She took a deep breath, her heart pounding in her chest. "I've been doing a lot of thinking, Harry. And I've realised something important."
Harry's expression was a mixture of hope and fear. "What is it?"
"I realised that I never stopped loving you either," she confessed, her voice shaking. "We have a lot of things to work through, and it's not going to be easy. But I want to try. I want us to be a family again."
A slow, relieved smile spread across Harry's face as he stepped forward, pulling her into a tight embrace. "You have no idea how happy that makes me, Y/N. I promise I'll do everything I can to make things right."
Tears of joy streamed down Y/N's face as she held onto him, feeling the warmth and comfort of his embrace. For the first time in a long while, she felt a glimmer of hope for the future.
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frmisnow · 9 days
Text
✧˖ ?! — BIRDS OF A FEATHER.
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summary. a unnecessary fight makes you realize just how much you love your boyfriend!
notes. it should be very evident by now that i freaking love writting fluffy/angsty things from time to time, it's kind of like therapy for me (ESPECIALLY kook) so i rly hope you like this as much as i liked writing it!!🫧₊˚ෆ
warnings/includes. jungkook x non specified! reader (tits mentioned at the end), a bit of angst, they are very in love still (& it's deathly obvious), a bit suggestive, kissing, undressing (?), fluff
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you hated the fact that he was so stubborn, you hated that he always wanted to be right, you hated how he could never leave your side not even once, you hated that he could never shut up- oh how loud of a mouth jungkook had but mostly you despised that he wasn't here right now, in you both's bed.
and you despised how silent this room was now, without his voice blabbering about all the stupid little things he usually rambeled about while you'd try to fall asleep, you despised that you found your mind travelling to the thought of how his day might've been or if the meeting he was stressed about a few days earlier went well or if the coach was uncomfortable to sleep on.
additionally, you firmly hated how there was nothing else in your head then him- it was a sickness that you wanted to get rid off.
But even that would've been a lie, you loved the feeling of love, you loved how whenever you looked into jungkooks eyes your heart pressed tightly together (even if it hurt), you loved how he'd do anything to reassure you, it didn't matter if it was work, your family or your friends- he was always there, there to tell you how 'you'd be fine' and how he 'knows you'll get through this' or how 'proud he was of you'
you sighed deeply, turning around once again if it was jungkooks body on the other side, you would've hugged him, kissed his shoulders and you'd- fuck.
groaning, now deciding to lay straight, looking up to the ceiling, my god- how much you missed him to a level that was practically pathetic.
it was so stupid, the fight you had, you were never the jealous type so you now looking back at it didn't understand why your heart boiled the way it did when you saw one of jungkooks colleagues talk to him like that- maybe it was the way she looked up to him, maybe it was the way her arm layed firmly on his arm almost like massaging his muscles: you remembered how mad you were all of a sudden and how he was defending her during your argument - it didn't help that she was fucking beautiful.
you wouldn't say you were insecure, you knew your worth and jungkook had made it awfully clear how pretty he thought you were but.. man, it still stung.
all the stories you've heard of your friends men cheating and going behind their backs with gorgeous women certaintly did not help either and it seemed to be that jungkook was deeply hurt by the fact that you'd assume he'd do something like that.
fuck it.
you tiptoed from the bedroom straight to the living room, finding a rather weirdly curled up distressed-looking sleeping jungkook with a lightly snoring bam on his feet, you got a bit closer to his face, gently removing one strand of his hair of of his face as his eyes slowly opened, the soft smile that formed when you played with his hair earlier, washing away.
you didn't waste even just a second, instantly hugging him, his hands almost mechanically out of sheer response wrapping around you, "i'm sorry," you mumbeled against his chest, shifting further onto him, you wanted to be as close to him as physically possible.
jungkook didn't hesitate either, his hands finding themselves quickly entagled in your hair, oh so gently running through, "i know why you felt the way you did and... i'm sorry too"
you lifted up your head just slightly to kiss a few moles on his neck very delicately like he might just break in the next few seconds, "please come back into our bed and talk me stupid"
he let out a little genuine laugh, "there's nothing I'd rather do- i could've never imagined how uncomfortable this coach was, we need to get a- mmh-" you cut him off by kissing him, his hands instantly cupping your face as you both waddled back to your bedroom, in a mix of making out, groaning and little chuckles.
"i missed you," he mumbeled as his own hands wandered to your velvet pj shirt, "and i missed these tits, very much"
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the next few hours were sleepless, you didn't close your eyes even once, you couldn't believe that you hadn't really looked or listened to your dearest in like two days so now was the perfect time to do just that.
anything- from his meeting to what he had been having for dinner for the past two days and every so often he'd lean down to kiss your face, his hands staying tightly intertwined with yours.
and you'd smile right into his kisses and when you'd smile, he'd follow and then you'd both laugh at your own corniness, way to loud and way to much.
"i don't wanna go to work tommorow," his voice whined right after the both of you finished giggling, "then don't," you shifted closer to his face, placing a few pecks on his lips to highlight your point.
"it doesn't work like that," he grinned, his eyes half-lidded while his hands reached out to your face almost like he was high, you tried your best to avoid his fingers that were desperatly trying to squish your cheecks, "who decides that?"
you bop his nose in the process as jungkooks arms wrap around your shoulders, pulling you even closer to him, mumbling something about, "what if i just magically get sick right now and I'd just have to call in sick... and spend the whole day with my girlfriend, what if that happened?"
you were certaintly in for a treat.
726 notes · View notes
dragon-kazansky · 1 month
Text
Bridgerton shade of blue
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Benedict Bridgerton x Female Reader
Benedict bumps into you, quite literally, at a ball while trying to escape his mother's attempts to find him a partner. You decide to humour him with a dance, not realising just how entwined you would become with him. It seems the universe will find every excuse to push you and Benedict together, no matter how much you fight it.
{Masterlist}
{Previous Chapter} - {Next Chapter}
Season one
Chapter Twelve - Beautiful day for a wedding
♡♡♡
The invitation arrived in your mail the very next day. You looked down at the writing of Violet Bridgerton on the letter. Daphne and Simon were to be married the very next day.
Your mother ushered you to the Modiste for a dress. You didn't have time for a new one, so she altered one you owned already. You bought a couple of new accessories and headed home.
You did not get to see the Bridgertons at all.
When you arrived at the church with your mother, you found yourself almost shocked at how few people were present, but you also supposed this was best.
On the duke's side were Lady Danbury and Will and his wife. On Daphne's was her family and you.
Benedict looked up just as you entered and smiled at you. He sat with Colin on a pew behind his mother. You smiled back and found your seat with Hyacinth and Gregory. Hyacinth made Gregory swap seats with her ao she could side beside you.
"Isn't this exciting?" She asks softly.
"Very," you smile.
"Daphne will look so beautiful in her dress," Hyacinth smiles.
"I'm certain of it."
You glance up to see Benedict still looking at you. When your eyes meet his, he turns away to talk to Colin again. You're confused by this strange little exchange, but don't dwell on it.
Violet spots you and waves at you with a smile. You return both gestures, and she turns back to Lady Danbury.
The duke stands quietly at the altar, awaiting his bride. As you look at him, you wonder what he must be thinking. From what you understand, this wasn't exactly ideal, but somehow you know, deep down in his heart, he loves Daphne.
He just needs to admit to himself.
His display to the queen, going by what Violet had said, was the most romantic declaration of love there could have ever been. You knew it had to have been true to some extent.
The sound of the door opening has everyone turning to look. You all rise when you see Anthony and the bride enter. You feel yourself gasp softly as you look at her.
Flawless.
Daphne looked beautiful. She was exactly what a bride should be on her special day. Anthony led her down the aisle. As she passed you, she gave you a small smile. She looked like she was putting on a brave face.
You smiled back and watched her pass.
Simon turns to look at his soon-to-wife. Even he couldn't deny how beautiful she is, surely.
Violet was trying so hard not to cry.
All of Daphne's family looked at her so proudly. This was the bottom she had been waiting for. The moment she would become a wife to the man she loved.
Though she had expected love to be true and pure like her parents had, for she knew the truth behind this wedding.
She practically forced Simon into it.
Anthony smiles at his sister and hands her over to Simon Bassett. The two stand beside each other while Anthony joins his mother at her pew.
You all sit.
The ceremony begins.
Hyacinth holds your hand as you watch the couple. You wonder what both of them are thinking.
They face each other. Simon holds out his hand. Daphne places her in it. He removes her long silk glove with ease. Her hand is now bare to him. He places the ring on her finger. Daphne remembers to breathe.
"I now pronounce you man and wife."
They're married.
♡♡♡
The ball after is full of life and cheer. Upbeat music plays on the violins. Though the wedding was an intimate affair, the ball was for all the ton.
Hyacinth and Gregory chase each other through the party while Daphne speaks to some of the guests.
Penelope tries to help Marina find someone other than Colin Bridgerton to marry. After all, Penelope had been in love with Colin for quite some time, though he was unlikely to view her the same way.
You laugh at something Anthony tells you on the other side of the room. Benedict comes over and looks between the two of you. "Is my brother that funny?"
"Quite, actually." You chuckle.
"At least one of us has charisma," Anthony says sipping his drink.
You laugh in the most unladylike manner and try to cover your mouth. Benedict looks at you in shock and in awe. Anthony smiles and shake his head.
"I never knew you could make such a sound," Benedict teases.
"Neither did I until now." You manage to control your laughter, ignoring anyone looking your way.
"A fascinating woman," he grins.
"I'm full of surprises. Even to myself," you smile.
Benedict looks at you curiously.
"Excuse me," Anthony says, nodding at you both and then taking his leave to catch up with someone.
You turn to Benedict only to catch him staring at someone.
"Benedict?"
"Excuse me..." He walks off but is soon cornered by the man he had seen. You sigh and decide to take a stroll of the room instead.
"A most enjoyable party," Henry Granville says to him.
"Indeed."
"Um, Bridgerton... Um... The other night..."
"What happened the other night?" Benedict asks, pretending he did not know. "I do not believe anything happened at all."
Henry chuckles softly. "Very well." A woman joins them, and Granville smiles. "Ah, dearest... I believe you know Mr. Bridgerton."
Benedict stares at the woman, recognising her from the other night. The pretty woman he enjoyed himself with.
"My wife, Mrs Lucy Granville."
Benedict chokes on his wine.
"It is a pleasure, Mr. Bridgerton." She smiles at him.
He just sips his wine and nods. "Mm."
You catch sight of Daphne staring at her husband, who stands across the room. You find this strange because you were made to believe that newly we'd couples rarely parted from each other on their wedding day. Yet, they were standing so far apart.
You were about to approach Daphne, but Anthony came up beside her. You decide to leave them both alone for now.
The conversation seems short, however, as you catch sight of Daphne fleeing the room moments later.
Violet goes after.
Wedding jitters, perhaps? Not that you would know. Would you ever know?
You find that you have circled the room completely and sigh. Benedict finds his way through the crowd and looks at you. "I apologise for that."
"Something urgent?"
"Well, not exactly. Just saw a face I knew."
"Wonderful. Where you know many faces, I know very few."
Benedict frowns. "Is something the matter?"
"Other than your family and Lady Danbury, I don't really know anyone else. Penelope seems lovely enough, but I do not know her all too well."
Benedict remains confused by you.
"Did something happen?" He asks.
"I have been all but abandoned."
"Nonsense."
You sigh. "Forgive me, I'm just tired. Weddings seem to go on for a while, don't they?"
"Can't say I've been to many."
"Do you think I'll get to experience this one day?" You ask, looking around. "Perhaps not as grand as this, but... you know."
Benedict now looks at you with slight surprise. "Of course, if that is what you want."
"I do want it." You confess quietly. "I'd like to be married one day. Not necessarily to a duke," you chuckle.
Benedict laughs, too.
"But I'd like to be a wife and a mother one day." You watch Hyacinth chase her brother around the guests.
Benedict keeps his gaze on you as he says, "one day it shall be yours."
You smile, keeping your eyes on the youngest two of the Bridgerton family.
Benedict does not drop his gaze from you.
♡♡♡
Violet insists you come them to bid Daphne goodbye as she leaves for her new home. You can only wonder how strange it must be for her to leave a place she calls home.
You stand at the back of the crowd as Daphne says goodbye to her siblings. She even hugs Eloise who looks a little reluctant for her sister to go.
Daphne then turns to you and pulls you into a hug. "Thank you," she whispers.
"What for?"
"Being there." She pulls away to look at you, placing her hands in yours softly.
You smile. "Any time. Write, won't you?"
"Of course. Regularly."
You both smile at each other, and Daphne turns around to climb into the carriage. Simon opens the door for her and climbs in after her. She looks out the window to look at her family and her, now, old home.
You wave along with the others, finding your arm looped with Anthony's as you watch the carriage disappear down the road. When it's gone from sight, Anthony escorts you back inside. Violet gushes about the entire day, and you smile as you go with her to fetch some tea.
With the guests gone, the family can relax. You had been invited to stay behind and keep them company for a while longer, and you agreed.
You sit with Violet and the family as tea is called. Anthony stays a while but then excuses himself. Violet makes a comment about him being unable to leave business even for one day.
A cup of tea is placed on the table beside you. You look up to see Benedict standing beside you with a smile.
You accept the cup and sip it. It's been made the way you like it. Benedict remembered something so mundane about you? Or was it perhaps just chance. You have taken tea with his mother before.
"My daughter, a duchess," Violet sighs happily.
"You must be very proud," you say, smiling.
"Immensly." She sips her tea.
"Daphne looked beautiful," Hyacinth says, smiling at you both from where she sits with Gregory.
"Yes," Violet smiles proudly.
You sip your tea and listen to small babble lf conversation about Daphne and where she will be living now, and what a duchess does. Hyacinth was full of questions.
Eloise slumped down in the seat beside you with a sigh.
"You alright?" You ask. She had a book held tightly to her chest.
"Just glad it's all over." She sighs again.
"Did you not enjoy seeing your sister marry?"
"It's not that. I'm very happy for Daphne and shall miss her tremendously. I'm just tired of all the fuss."
"Will it not be your turn next?" You ask.
"Please don't remind me," she screws her eyes shut and grimaces at the thought.
You chuckle softly and pat her arm gently. "You may change your mind."
"I cannot think of anything worse."
You say no more on the matter. After an hour passes, you take your leave. Your mother would be waiting at home for you. Violet calls for a carriage for you, one of their own. Benedict insists on seeing you out.
You walks down the front steps with him and approaches the carriage. The footman opens the door for you.
"Until next we meet," Benedict smiles at you.
You're about to enter the carriage when you stop and turn to him. "Where do you go at night?" You ask.
Benedict seems to freeze at your question. "Pardon?"
"At night, where do you go?"
His mouth hangs open as he tries to think about how to answer, but you keep talking before he can utter a single word.
"The other night when the duke and Lady Danbury came for dinner, you were not present. I asked Anthony about your whereabouts, but he confessed to not knowing. Not that I expect you all to know each others business all the time, but apparently, you have spent a couple nights away from home now. I am curious. Where do you go?"
Benedict really wasn't sure how to answer. Qould you think poorly of him if he told you the truth.
"Well I--"
"No, never mind. Do not tell me. It was rude of me to ask. I was just curious. Curiosity can be dangerous." You climb up into the carriage.
There's a moment of silence before the footman closes the door. Within seconds the carriage takes off towards your home.
Benedict is left standing there wishing he had said something, anything, to keep you longer.
He watches the carriage leave.
♡♡♡
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dwobbitfromtheshire · 4 months
Text
Eddie was hanging out at Steve's place without Robin for once, but even though she wasn't here, Steve found a way to work her into conversations. Eddie thought it was endearing. He really did love their friendship.
"You know, people keep thinking we're together. It's because of Robin. She keeps doing things like fucking goosing me at the grocery store," Steve sighed shaking his head. "Which she did earlier today!"
Goosing? What the fuck was that? Before he could even ask what that was, Steve moved onto another subject. He decided he wanted to try reading the Hobbit instead of his usual mystery novels. Eddie completely forgot what he wanted to ask him and started launching into a discussion about it. Later, when he was back at home, he remembered what Steve had said.
"What the fuck is goosing?" Eddie asked Robin the next day at Family Video.
"Oh, well, it's usually something you do to someone you really like, but I always do it platonically with Steve," Robin replied.
"So, you gave him a stuffed goose?" Eddie asked, not liking the way she smirked at him.
"Yes. Yes. I did," Robin said.
Steve burst out of the back room, and Eddie had to stop himself from jumping on him. Him and his stupid tight jeans. . . His perfectly tight polos were tucked perfectly into his jeans. . . and his perfect hair. . . Which was, well, perfect.
"What are you two chickens clucking about in here?" Steve asked.
"Nothing!" Eddie said quickly, and Robin snorted.
"Right. . ." Steve said as he went to stock the video tapes.
"I'm going to goose you so hard," Eddie muttered, and Robin laughed.
"What was that?" Steve asked.
"Nothing!"
A few days later, Eddie got alone time with Steve again, bringing his gift with him.
"I got you something, big boy," Eddie said.
"Yeah?" Steve asked with a smirk.
"Close your eyes," Eddie said, smiling.
Steve complied, leaning forward and puckering his lips for some reason. Eddie furrowed his eyebrows for a moment before pulling the stuffed goose out from behind him and holding it right in front of his face.
"Okay, open them," Eddie said eagerly.
Steve yelped and hopped back.
"Eddie! . . . What?"
"I goosed you!"
"Eddie. . .that's not, that's not what goosing is," Steve said, struggling not to laugh.
Eddie scowled and placed the goose on the kitchen counter, turning away from Steve. He threw his arms up.
"Well, I don't know what it is!" Eddie exclaimed.
Steve burst into laughter, and Eddie rolled his eyes as he felt Steve step in his space. Suddenly, Steve’s hands were on his ass and squeezing them.
"By the way, that's a goose," Steve whispered in his ear.
"I hope you didn't mean it platonically," Eddie whispered back.
"Definitely not for me," Steve said.
"Not for me either."
Steve’s arms slipped around his waist, and Eddie's cheeks turned red as Steve pressed up against him. Before he knew it, Steve’s arms were reaching out, and he was grabbing the goose from the counter. He moved quickly back. Eddie turned around to find Steve cuddling the goose and cooing at it.
"He's so cute. He even has a heart on his chest," Steve said.
"I stitched that on myself," Eddie shrugged.
"I love it. I think I'm going to name him Lord Gooseberry," Steve said.
"You're keeping him?" Eddie asked.
"Forever, I hope," Steve said, biting his lip and cuddling the goose.
Eddie growled and jumped on him, biting his cheek.
"Eddie!"
"Stop being so fucking cute!"
"You first!"
388 notes · View notes
miley1442111 · 8 days
Text
(part 9)- hotel room choice- a.donaldson
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summary: how art and you start to reconnect, as friends, of course.
(dw there are more parts after this :))
pairing: art donaldson x reader
warnings: mad angst, feelings of disappointment and depression, hurt, loneliness, eating disorder, SMUT 18+, piv, fingering, no protection, small fluff, etc.
PART 9 of 12
-------------------------
You sat in your hotel room, a full plate of untouched food in front of you, a party going on outside, and an empty feeling in your stomach. You hated your life. You were worse than empty, you felt desolate, and unknown. Everyone knew your name, but no one knew you. No one knew what you liked and hated, what your real dreams were, what you liked as a kid, what your favourite colour was. 
No. You were completely, and utterly alone. 
Which was fine. It meant no hurt feelings. No complicated relationships. But it also meant radio silence. It meant going days without speaking a word out loud. It meant weeks without real human contact. You had no family, none that wanted to see you anyways. You had no friends, no one at the top could. You enjoyed the tennis season, because it meant you’d at least be surrounded by people, even if they didn’t speak to you. That was fine. You liked people watching. Like when you spotted Lily and Art in the crowd at your match earlier that day. Lily was a beautiful little girl, and your heart ached for the hypothetical children you and Art would talk about back in college when you both got tired enough to forgo any anxieties surrounding talking about a future together. 
-------------------------
“We’d have a girl first,” he smiled, pecking your lips as he held you close. The cold air from the open window (that neither of you were bothered to close) caused you both to huddle together under his bedsheets, the darkness of the room giving way to a serious conversation. What you wanted your life to look like. How you believed it would look. “We’ll call her Lily.”
“Lily? Like my favourite flower?” You’d smiled as he nodded. You could barely make out his face in the dark room, but you could feel his smile against your skin. It felt good. 
“Like your favourite flower,” he nodded. “Then we’d have twins, a boy and a girl.” 
“We’d name the boy Matthew,” you decided. “After your grandad, obviously.”
Art beamed with happiness. He’d been close to his grandfather when he was a kid and a few months ago he’d opened up about it, telling you off-handedly about his desire to name his kid after him. You’d remembered. 
How could you ever forget it?
“And the girl could be named Heidi,” he offered. “It’s cute, right?”
“Very cute,” you agreed. 
“And then we’d have another boy-”
“Christ, how many times will I have to be pregnant?” You chuckled. 
“You don’t seem to mind me fucking you everyday now,” he smirked, pressing an open-mouthed kiss to your neck. You chuckled at his antics and pushed him off. 
“Fine,” you rolled your eyes. “What would his name be?”
“Lucas.” 
“Why Lucas?” You asked, holding his hand. 
“It’s pretty, like you,” he smiled and kissed your cheek again. 
“I love it,” you nodded. His hands went down to your waist and pulled you on top of him. 
“I love you.”
-------------------------
You pushed the plate of pasta away from you, a scoff on your lips. You weren’t hungry. You weren’t anything. 
You were empty. 
Knock, knock, knock. 
You got up and answered it, swallowing your tears back. “Hello?”
And there he was, blonde hair in a pair of pyjama pants and a hoodie that made him like 19 again. He looked at you with those same sparkling eyes, Lily’s hand in his. You both just stared at each other for a few seconds, before Lily shook his hand, breaking him out of the trance you’d found yourselves in.“Hi.”
“Hi!” She smiled. “You’re really good!” 
You leaned down to her. “Well thank you,” you smiled. “I’d love to play tennis with you one day, I bet you’re amazing.”
She nodded her head profusely. “Let’s play now!”
“Oh peanut, it’s kind of late-”
“It’s fine,” you nodded at him. “Unless she needs to be in bed?” 
“She’s fine to be awake,” he nodded, his eyes trained on you. 
“Perfect,” you smiled at her. “I’ll grab my racket, yeah?”
“Yay!” she celebrated. “I’ll go back to the hotel room and grab one of yours daddy! I’ll be right back,” Lily rushed off, keycard in hand. 
Art walked into your room and your frame stiffened. He felt like he had no control over his body. He was just… drawn to you. Like a mosquito to a light. His eyes stayed glued to you. 
“Have you eaten?” He asked, looking at the untouched dishes at the end of your bed. 
“I’m not hungry,” you shrugged. 
“You should eat something,” he nodded. “It’s good for you.”
You turned to him with a teasing smirk. “Really? I never noticed.”
Art felt 19 again. Awkward and much too sweaty around you. Nervous.
Like when you two first met at that party. Your beautiful face in the crowd. When Tashi introduced you to him. 
-------------------------
“That over there, is Art Donaldson with Patrick Zweig, Art’s great at tennis, but he lacks a certain drive, and Patrick is just an asshole who thinks he’s way better than he is,” she giggled. You laughed along, but your eyes lingered on Art. He met your eyes and his widened, he choked on his drink and you chuckled. He waved at you, and you waved back, a teasing smirk on your face. 
“He seems to like you,” she winked. “Go for it.”
You did. 
-------------------------
“You haven’t changed,” he chuckled nervously. 
“I wish I had,” you plastered on another fake smile and took his hand. His entire body went electric, every nerve ending on fire. You were touching him. You were here with him. Your eyes met his and he leaned in, trying to commit your face to memory. Like he would ever forget it. 
“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, bright eyes staring into yours. “So, so beautiful.”
He noticed how your breath hitched. How your lip quivered. How your eyes watery slightly.
“Dad, I’m ready!” Lily called from the door. 
“So are we!” you smiled, walking over to Lily. She put her hand in your and you felt that sorrowful ache in your heart increase in size. You’d wanted to be a mom. You couldn’t now, not after what you’d done to yourself. 
-------------------------
The tennis court was foggy, a slight midnight haze on your game. Art and Lily played against you, mostly having it be Lily serve, you hitting it back, then Art catching the ball and giving it to Lily to serve again. She was pretty great, especially for a little girl. It was beautiful. Your dreams coming true for one night. A family. A domestic setting in which Art looked at you like he used to. But Lily wasn’t your daughter. And Art wasn’t your husband. They were both Tashi’s. Everything in your life had become Tashi’s. 
Everything. 
-------------------------
Art walked you back to your hotel room after he walked Lily back to their hotel room. 
“Thanks for tonight,” he smiled. “Lily had a blast.”
“Thank you for tonight,” you smiled. “I had fun.”
He just looked at you for a moment, feeling exactly how he did eleven years ago.
-------------------------
“I had a great time tonight,” he smiled, dropping you off at your dorm. 
“It doesn’t have to end,” you smirked. “You could come in for a while.”
He’d never agreed so quickly. 
His lips were on your in an instant, his hands expertly undoing the lacing on the back of your beautiful black dress. “You’re so beautiful.”
“So are you,” you smirked, slightly biting his lip. He swore he could’ve cum right then and there. 
His lips worked down your neck as you both stripped, then you landed on the bed, his fingers slowly working you to your first orgasm of the night. 
“So pretty like this,” he whispered into your ear, somehow speaking over your moans. “So gorgeous.”
His lips seemed to be magnetic to your neck. His eyes, drinking in your body as you convulsed and moaned beneath him. 
“Art!” you whined gripping his bicep as you came. 
“Good girl, just like that-” he groaned when you took his hard cock in your hand. 
“Feels good?” you asked, coming down from your orgasm. He nodded his head as he whimpered out small praises, depraved sounds coming over of his mouth as you worked your hand up and down faster. He lay back as you straddled him, pushing him inside of you as he moaned out particularly loudly. 
“Fuck!” he whined out as you started to move. “So good- so, so good.”
“Fuck you’re huge,” you groaned. “You’re so big.”
With your praises Art came quickly, cumming inside of you with a groan as you clamped down around him, his orgasm triggering your own. 
“Fuck,” you groaned, laying beside him. 
“Please tell me you’re on birth control?” He asked and you groaned. 
“Fuck off and stop ruining the moment,” you chuckled, kissing him softly again. “But no, I am not. I’ll go and grab the morning-after pill now,” you sighed, getting up. 
“No way you’re getting it. I’ll go get it,” he assured, getting up and dressing himself. You simply walked over to your desk and pulled out a blister pack, then chuckled at him. He rolled his eyes and walked over, burying his face in your neck. “I thought you meant going out-”
“I know what you meant,” you smiled. “You’re so sweet Art, thank you.”
He faced you, a rosy blush on his cheeks. “So we’ll see each other again?”
“I hope so,” you smiled. “Cause I really like you.”
“I really like you too,” he admitted, and kissed you softly. 
-------------------------
He cleared his throat  “You’ll get some dinner?”
“Sure,” you nodded. “You’ll get some sleep?”
“Sure,” he nodded. 
You started closing the door, giving him a small wave,  but he stopped you, putting his foot in the door. 
“I wanted it to be you,” he admitted. “Always. I’ve always been in love with you.”
Suddenly this innocent night had turned into something much heavier. 
Suddenly you didn’t know what to do. 
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art donaldson masterlist :)
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shegatsby · 2 months
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Love Thy Enemy
Summary; Y/N Atreides had always been a stranger to the entire galaxy, her bed wasn’t her bed, her home wasn’t her home due to the fact that she was sent to accompany and be sisters with Irulan. She had limited access to her actual family and over the years they grew distant. She thought she would be like Reverend Mother, alone, yet powerful, and soon she would realize that there was no need of being alone when a wild creature had his eyes on her for a long time.
A/N; Hi babies! I hope you're doing amazing! I love writing this story i feel alive after months of depression lol. Don't worry, there will be SMUT in the future chapters. Sorry for any typos English isn't my first language.
TAG LIST IS OPEN! (Text me if i forgot to tag you little doves 🕊️ ♥️)
Warnings; None.. Female Bene Gesserit Reader x Feyd-Rautha, enemies to lovers! reader is reffered to as she/her.
Words; 2.291K
Chapter 4
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Chapter Three – ''Caught in the Web''
The throne room was spinning under her feet, she felt the sudden rush of hot air on her body. No one dared to speak, one could hear the birds outside singing in harmony. Y/N’s alerted eyes found Pyramus, he seemed in shock and quietly left the throne room. Y/N looked at her parents pleadingly, Leto’s brown eyes were fixed on the Emperor, Jessica had a victorious smile and it dawned on her.
This was planned.
 ‘’Rise young warrior.’’ Shaddam’s voice was heard. ‘’Do parents of Lady Y/N object to this offer?’’
Entire room held its breath. ‘’No, Emperor.’’  Leto answered on the behalf of his house, it broke Y/N’s heart into million pieces. ‘’Not here.’’ she whispered to herself, she couldn’t burst into tears in front of important people and show weakness.
‘’So it is done. Paul Atreides shall take my daughter as wife and you, young warrior Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen shall take Lady Y/N Atreides as your wife.’’ And the crowd went into hypnotic frenzy.
The following hours went blurry, Y/N was taken to chamber to another…
At last, she was in her family’s quarters, she waited for servants to leave them alone. The door closed and a thick silence fell like a dark cloud, hovering over the House Atreides.
‘’How could you?!’’ she yelled, stood up to her feet, her skirts swirling, her face showed nothing but anger, she was a lioness. ‘’How could I refuse the Emperor?!’’ Leto yelled back, he felt powerless like the exact time when Emperor Shaddam demanded his beloved baby daughter to accompany Princes Irulan. Again, someone else was going to take her from him. ‘’Wake up father! This isn’t the Emperor. This is Bene Gesserit’s doing. It has been all along.’’
Leto turned to face Jessica who averted her gaze, she looked guilty of a crime she didn’t commit yet she had her fingers in it. ‘’You?!’’ He didn’t want to believe but she was right. Jessica’s blue eyes couldn’t face her beloved. Paul knew that his parents needed to talk in private so he gently held his older sister’s arm. ‘’let’s go to the gardens.’’ He knew that would calm her.
Y/N stormed odd to the halls of the palace and with Paul they walked to the lush gardens. Gardens of House Corriono were always well maintained and aesthetically pleasing with colors and scent. She had to take deep breaths and pray in silence;
 ‘’I must not fear.
Fear is the mind-killer.
Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration.
I will face my fear.’’
Paul was standing there hands in his pockets, counting his blessings.
‘’Y/N’’ he called softly, ‘’What?!’’ she was about to take her anger out on him, ‘’Do not give me that look Paul. You and Irulan and that.. that Bal headed beast are the ones who profit from this arrangement but me!’’ she tried to keep her voice low, servants and spies could be anywhere. ‘’You can manipulate him, Y/N, remember our training.’’ Paul was making sense but Y/N was too furious to hear .
‘’Y/N…’’ a soft voice called out, they turned to face the owner, ‘’Pyramus..’’ she breathed out, a brief silence fell, his dark brown eyes found hers, ‘’I shall take my leave.’’ Paul announced and left them be.
Two lovers embraced, she started to cry in agony, ‘’What are we going to do now?!’’ her voice desperate, rebelling against her fate. ‘’I have an idea.’’ He said holding her face, ‘’Tonight, after Irulan and Paul’s wedding we run away together.’’ She was shocked to hear him being bold. ‘’We can hijack an ornithopter and hide till we find a ship to fly to my home, you can use the Voice on people.’’ It would be the most outrageous scandal that the Imperium had ever seen, but it was now or never.
All day she got ready for Irulan’s wedding, she wore a long black dress an black lace gloves that were see-through, her long hair let loose. A big obsidian stoned necklace on her delicate throat, the stone shined every time lights hit from the glowglobes. After tonight she was suppose to be shipped to the hellhole called Giedi Prime. House Harkonnen.
The feast was bountiful, everyone seemed to enjoy themselves, no one cared about Y/N and her situation. Among the crowd she found her family’s place and started to move past dancing couples to go to them but a firm trap caught her delicate wrist, it was Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen.
‘’Where to, little dove?’’ he was in his regular black clothing, a silver ring on his little finger, a cunning look on his ocean eyes, ‘’To my family.’’ Y/N replied coldly, ‘’I am your family now.’’ He was so direct it caught her off guard. He didn’t wait for an answer and guided her to the dance floor, his tone was stern, was he hurt that Y/N didn’t go to him first? She deduced with her Bene Gesserit powers. ‘’I highly doubt that.’’ She clapped back in annoyance. He was trying really hard not to lose his temper. He couldn’t show his true self among other houses, he couldn’t humiliate his family so he simply had to wait and be patient and when the time comes… he could insert his ways on her. As if he wasn’t doing it now….
‘’You have a silver tongue. I like that but-‘’ he made her twirl, ‘’be careful.’’ Y/N looked up to meet his orbits, under the yellow lights, among dancing couples one could assume that Feyd and Y/N were a loving couple. It was so easy to lose oneself in his aura that she had to look away. Their bodies pressed to each other, she could smell his cologne, manly and just.. there
‘’You know what, I’m going to be nice to you tonight.’’ She said which caused him to rise his nonexistent eyebrow in questioning. ‘’How come?’’
‘’You might not find me again, so, it’s on the house.’’ And the music ended and she immediately let herself part from him and go to her family.
Rest of the night she avoided most of the people and observed. Paul and Irulan were shipped to Caladan and tomorrow morning all of the lord and ladies were to go back to their home planets. Perfect timing.
Y/N wore her black leather pants and top, she couldn’t afford running in her beautiful gowns if any trouble arrived. She prepared a small bag of essentials, and had been waiting for Pyramus to whistle from outside, her windows were all wide open.
When she heard him she activated her shoes which were made to float in the air and she softly landed on the fresh cut grass, they kissed passionately. She could feel her heart in her throat, this was the first time she was actively rebelling against her family and the rules. Pyramus had his outfit from the night’s entertainment. ‘’Why didn’t you change?’’
‘’Didn’t have time. Follow me.’’ If she was more observant she could have seen the cut on his eyebrow and small bruises on his face clearly.
Ornithopters were on the airfield, since it was really late most of the guards were sleeping on their duty.
Pyramus held her hand, his palm sweaty, ‘’Let’s go.’’ He made her move fast ‘’Wait-‘’ she whispered,
‘’Let’s not wake them up-‘’ he seemed like he didn’t care, they got to an ornithopter. He opened its door, it was for two people. Before she climbed inside she turned to face him for a second, he seemed terrified, ‘’Wait-‘’ her hands went to his face, ‘’What happened to your face?’’ Y/N asked in horror and saw his expression change into guilt.
‘’Pyramus?’’ she whispered, ‘’I’m sorry Y/N..’’
And all of the lights on the field were turned on like lightning on a rainy day, alarms were going off, soldiers wide awake… were they awake the whole time? They were surrounded by Harkonnen soldiers, a sound of applause echoed on the open field, soldiers moved to make way for him.
Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen approached, he stopped clapping when he saw them, he had his black and dark grey uniform. Y/N could see he was geared up.. just in case.
‘’Did you really think that you could escape me?’’ Feyd asked sarcastically, his voice amused, he looked like a theater actor who finished his bit and proud of himself. ‘’I’m sorry..’’ Pyramus whispered again and let her go, he, without a beat climbed into the ornithopter and flew away.
Y/N could feel the tears of betrayal coming in, Feyd-Rautha with a sudden move grabbed her wrist, she felt like an animal who just stepped into a metal trap, his fingers bruising her wrist, he started to drag her back to the palace. ‘’Let go of me!’’ because of the panic she couldn’t use the Voice on him.
‘’Enough games, little dove. You will be locked to your chambers until we leave for Giedi Prime.’’
She kept trying to fight and get away from him and he stopped in his tracks, an annoyed huff coming out of him he turned to her and with a swift move he lifted her to his shoulder like a cave man.
‘’I order you to let go of me!’’ this time she used the Voice but he wasn’t affected. Why? Y/N noticed the earplugs he was wearing. ‘’I out rank you Lady Y/N.’’ he chuckled and she could feel the panic rise in her. He slapped her butt and she whined in pain, his hand was heavy and big.
Feyd-Rautha marched the empty corridors and found her bedroom, he kicked open the door and threw her onto her bed which was covered with fluffy pillows and he was startled to see so many colors at once. She froze, supporting her body with her hand, he stood there like a statue, immobile. ‘’Thankfully other houses don’t know this foolish attempt of yours.’’ He said coldly ad slowly leaned to be on the same level as her. ‘’Try to humiliate me again and see what happens, little dove.’’ She felt the threat of his words settle into the room, she felt as if his presence made her vision go dark and the only thing she could see was him.. Feyd-Rautha was so many things but a liar.
He left and she heard the lock on the door.
Y/N was in shock, she had to take deep breaths to calm her racing mind. Soon a maid came to lock the windows and leave her there, without a word.. even her own maids turned their backs on her, Harkonnens were feared. She belonged to them now, her body and soul was his.
She moved to the window to see the full moon, on her knees she prayed till morning came with its fog. Jessica entered with the maids and servants, Y/N was on her knees praying like a mad Bene Gesserit witch. ‘’Prepare the bath for my daughter.’’ Jessica ordered and went to sit next to her.
‘’You will understand me one day.’’ She knew what happened last night and was surprised, Jessica had never thought Y/N would rebel like this.. ‘’When I was in your whomb…’’ she began, ‘’why didn’t you change my sex?’’
Jessica had to tell the truth, ‘’I was ordered to have a daughter as first born. They didn’t tell me why. If I had known.. things would be different.’’ Her blue eyes searching hers, hoping to see something but Y/N was trained well, not a single emotion on her face, a blank slate. ‘’If you don’t manipulate him he’ll be the end of you, you’re my daughter, you have to survive.’’ Jessica kissed her daughters soft hair and stood up to give more orders to carry Y/N’s belongings to the Harkonnen ship.
Y/N watched other houses leave from her window, she tried to read while her servants worked in silence. The sun was setting when she wore her ceremonial gown. It was emerald green, the color fo her house and a hawk was on her chest, symbol of House Atreides. Her long hair was braided elegantly. Her father came to take her outside before the Emperor, it was the custom. Leto tried to talk to her but she didn’t budge, they walked in death silence.
There was a breeze outside, she saw everyone standing in their rightful places. Feyd-Rautha was standing in front of the Emperor who was seated on a moveable throne. Feyd’s hands clasped behind his back, he watched Duke Leto bring Y/N to stand next to her, he noticed that she was avoiding eye contact like an expert.
Leto, when he made her stand next to her husband- to-be he took a step to Feyd, held his arm and whispered into his ear, ‘’Hurt my daughter and I will end your entire blood line.’’ He gave a pat on Feyd’s shoulder and left them.
The field was silent, she could hear the birds, it calmed her. Were there any birds in Giedi Prime?
Padishah Emperor Shaddam basically announced that this young couple had his blessing and the wedding would take place in House Harkonnen’s planet. He made them kiss his ring and ended the ceremony. Y/N walked to her family to say goodbye, Feyd watching her intently, Leto kissed her daughter’s forehead, Jessica hugged her tightly and whispered into her ear.
‘’Remember your training.’’
Feyd made her take his arm, his ceremonial clothing was black, he was covered in it, together they walked to the ship. ‘’I must say you look pleasant in green.’’ He spoke quietly, Y/N turned to see the small smile on his plump lips, ‘’Thank you.’’ And they walked to the ship, Y/N looked at her family before the metal door closed.
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Thank you for reading. :)
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ch3rrytales · 1 year
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i couldn’t be more in love - steve harrington
a/n: hi! here’s a lil angsty steve one shot for y’all (unedited) this is my first time writing steve so please be gentle with me. requests are currently open. thanks for reading and as always all support and criticism is extremely appreciated! hope you enjoy, lots of love - florie <3
pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader
summary: steve’s fears of not being good enough for you cause him to end your four year relationship and leave you heartbroken. even though he tries his best to move on and let you go, his undeniable need to protect you results with you in his bed at the end of a night out.
word count: 7.8k
warning(s): cursing, crying, drinking, mention of weed, parental pressure, throwing up, angst, mentions of insecurity about self worth, smut, no use of y/n, steve and reader are 19/20.
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“Ignore it.” Robin said, pushing an overflowing red solo cup into your hand, lukewarm beer sloshing over the rim to drip down your arm. 
You shot her a glare and huffed, “I’m trying to.” 
She stepped in front of you, blocking your line of vision to who you had been staring daggers at in the corner of the room. 
Steve Harrington. Your ex-boyfriend. Your twin flame. Your soulmate. The love of your life. 
And her. His new fling. 
They had been going at it for the past 5 minutes, they hadn’t even stopped to catch their breath. 
You could remember when you and Steve were like that, attached at the hip, disgustingly affectionate. 
You weren’t even sure when you had stopped being like that. All you knew was that three weeks ago he had sat you down, taken your hands in his own, eyes glossy, and said the words you had hoped you would never have to hear from his mouth. 
“I think it’s time we go our separate ways.”
The second he said it you felt something inside of you drop, trickle all the way down to the tips of your toes and onto the floor, it’s absence leaving your whole body cold. When you and Steve started dating, a comfort that you had never been familiar with before found a home in you and put you at ease for the first time in your life. When you were with him your head and heart were so full of love that any familial or personal pressures that typically plagued you were forced out, there was no more room for them. Your parents overbearing wishes and your perpetual fear of failure were overpowered by his sheer admiration of you, it had always been said that you were destined for greatness in all your endeavors, but Steve never really wanted greatness, he only wanted you. Until he didn’t. 
Now you watched them and fought to ignore the pain stabbing into your heart. While his hands roamed over her body you thought back to a better time, a sweeter time. 
- - - 
Steve slung his arm around your shoulders as you walked past a group of football players who were passing around a poorly made bong on the front porch. They shouted various greetings to your socially esteemed boyfriend who returned their welcome with a nonchalant wave of his hand. 
You tilted your head to speak into his ear as you passed through the front door. 
“Whose house is this again?” 
“You remember Jimmy? I introduced you two at my house last week.”
“Right.” you remembered, one of Steve’s teammates from basketball. “And you’re sure it’s okay that I came, you know without an invitation?” 
Steve’s lips twisted up into a lazy smirk and he couldn’t help himself from pressing a chaste kiss on your cheek. 
“You’re my plus one, baby. Course it’s okay.” 
As you made your way through the party you tried not to feel intimidated by the amount of people flocking to your boyfriend, guys pulling him into half assed hugs, and girls pressing into him, their glossed lips wrapping around sultry hellos. 
Steve didn’t seem to pay it any mind, he kept his arm wrapped tightly around your waist ushering you through the crowd until you had reached the drink table in the center of the kitchen. He lifted you up so you sat in front of him atop the counter and shuffled his way between your thighs. 
“Whaddya drinking?” he crooned, smooth as always. 
“Dunno.” you mumbled, lost in the way his eyes burned into you. 
“You want something sweet, honey?” he teased, his hands finding a home just above your knees. 
You nodded dumbly as his fingertips traveled up and dipped just under the hem of your skirt. 
“Me too.” he agreed and laughed softly, motioning to his lips with the point of his finger. “Lay it on me.” 
You pecked him once leaving your cheeks warm and he hummed contently against you before pulling away. 
“Alright, now that we’ve got that sorted. How bout a shirley temple?” 
He started pouring soda and grenadine into a cup of ice, dumping in two shots of vodka to finish it off while you watched, your feet lazily swinging from where they hung above the ground. 
“Cherry on top?” he asked, pulling a jar of maraschino cherries from the door of the fridge. 
“Please.” you replied, sticky sweet. 
“Well fuck.” he scoffed, twisting the lid off. “I’d cut my right arm off if you asked like that, honey.” 
- - - 
You were slowly nursing your second drink of the night and had no desire for a third. In all honesty what you really wanted to do was walk home and hide in your bed but you knew that wouldn’t be happening, Robin wouldn’t allow it. 
She had practically dragged you from your tear soaked sheets and forced you into the little red skirt and matching cropped angora sweater you had bought impulsively as a post breakup gift for yourself. 
“You really need to get out.” she said while you begrudgingly swiped mascara through your lashes, just a few hours earlier. 
“I’m not ready yet, Robs.” you complained, turning in your vanity chair to face her. “What if he’s there? What if he’s with that girl?” 
“That girl” being Donna, a stunning hair stylist who worked at the salon across from Family Video. Robin had been keeping you filled in on their budding romance since it began, how she had come in one Tuesday and slid a gum wrapper scribbled with her number across the counter with her perfectly polished nails while Steve was helping her checkout. He had taken her out that weekend and they had been seeing each other casually since. 
Robin threw a fashion magazine she was flipping through on your bed to the floor, “Who cares? You know I love you and I wouldn’t want to say anything to upset you while you’re-” she paused to grimace at the pile of soggy tissues covering your nightstand. “...fragile. But, obviously he’s moved on and it’s killing me to see you still stuck on him when you’re so clearly out of his league.” 
You stared at her blankly, “I’m out of his league?” 
“Duh! This is Steve Harrington we’re talking about, I once watched him have a 20 minute “lightsaber duel” with Henderson using a mop.” 
You scrunched your nose trying to hide the fact that you found that incredibly endearing and not at all dorky before you responded, “Yet he’s the one who dumped me.” 
She sighed in full dramatics flinging her head off the end of your bed so she was staring at you upside down, “Exactly! What kind of a dingus would do that?” 
You frowned at yourself in the mirror before powdering your nose for the third time, “Someone who’s moving on to better things.” 
“I call bullshit.” she declared. “How does it get better than you? Once you get yourself all pretty and a couple of drinks in your system you’ll forget who Steve Harrington even is.” 
“Doubtful.” you retorted. 
Robin came behind you, her expression pitiful as it reflected in your mirror. “But, would it kill you to try?” she asked hopefully. 
You shrugged and swiped a cherry scented gloss across your lips, “It might.” you said honestly. “But, I guess I’ve got nothing left to lose.” 
Robin beamed at you through the mirror and smacked a kiss to the top of your head before practically skipping to the other side of your bedroom. 
“Well, then hurry.” she said, pulling her pin-covered denim jacket over her shoulders. “We leave in 10.” 
Now that you were at the party, staring at the person you loved more than anything in the world with his tongue down another girl's throat, you realized you did have something to lose, the contents of your stomach. 
You turned to Robin, who was beside you eyeing a girl who had come into Family Video last week in search of any Molly Ringwald movie she could get her hands on. 
“I think I’m gonna yack.” you whispered. 
“What?” she questioned. “You’ve hardly had anything to drink.” 
“It’s not the alcohol making me queasy.” you replied, gesturing to Steve and Donna pressed against the wall opposite to you. 
“I thought I told you to ignore him?” she said, still slightly distracted.
“Easier said than done.” 
She took a moment to look at you, her best friend. It honestly hurt her to see you so down on yourself. All she wanted was for you to have a good time after weeks of sobbing in her arms and isolating yourself in your room. She looked around the room until her gaze fell upon a beefy blonde eyeing you from the beer pong table. 
“You wanna play a game of pong?” she said, gesturing to the table. 
“Not really.” you replied, your eyes unmoving from Steve’s back. 
“Too bad.” she decided, tugging you behind her. 
“Robinnn” you complained, following her. 
When the two of you reached the table the blonde in question sauntered over to you, drinking you in with his stare. 
“You girls up for a game?” he shouted over the music. 
You shook your head timidly while Robin replied, “Absolutely.” 
The boy pulled you into his side with an arm around your back and spoke into your ear, “You’re on my team, babe.” 
You looked helplessly to Robin who only nodded and mouthed to you, “Go for it.” 
“You got a partner?” he asked her. She looked around and shrugged. 
You turned your focus to reorganizing the scattered cups on the table into a pyramid, your head shooting up when your new partner’s voice cut through the room. 
“Harrington!” he called. “Come play, we need another person.” 
Robin’s eyes widened as she tried to assess what the quickest escape for you would be. 
But Steve was faster, approaching the table with Donna under his arm still unaware of your presence. 
He saw Robin first, her face red and eyes locked on yours. Then he focused his attention on the man beside you who once again pulled you close and then spoke, “It’s you and her against me and this pretty thing.” 
Then Steve saw you, your cheek mushed against the blonde douche’s shoulder, bottom lip wobbling as you suffocated in the unexpected eye contact. 
Donna leaned in and whispered something in his ear that made his jaw clench and he shooed her back gently with the wave of his hand. 
“Sorry, bud.” he said, eyes unmoving from yours. “Not interested.” 
As quickly as he was there he was gone.
You were seconds away from crumpling to the ground when Robin pulled you from the man’s arms. 
“Fuck,” she said, her hands on your shoulders. “I’m sorry, I had no idea he was coming over here.” 
You shook your head, dismissing her apologies. “It’s not your fault, I just-” your voice cracked and you looked at her wordlessly. “He didn’t even acknowledge me.” 
She frowned and pulled you into a hug, “He’s a massive idiot.” 
“Are we still playing?” The blonde asked, dumbfounded. 
“Sorry, but fuck off.” Robin replied, before walking towards the kitchen, arms still wrapped around you. “We’re taking shots. Lots of them.” 
“I’m not in the mood.” 
Robin pulled a bottle of vodka from the many assorted liquors lined up on the table in front of you. 
“Y’know how they say the best way to get over someone is to get under them?” she asked, already pouring the shots. 
You nodded weakly. 
She shoved the tiny glass into your hand, “That’s a lie.” she declared. “The best way to get over someone is to get absolutely shit faced.” 
You recalled Steve’s expression when he saw you, it was cold, not exactly unbothered but withdrawn. You recalled her hands on him, her lips brushing the shell of his ear, and her words affecting him. 
You slung the glass back, the liquid bringing a welcome burn to the back of your throat. Then you took another. Then another. Then another. 
Within the hour you were somewhat distracted from your heartache. You and Robin were squished together on a couch with Nancy and Jonathan, all giggling drunkenly in response to the story Jonathan was sharing of an encounter he had with an inebriated pizza delivery boy the week prior. 
You had lost count of your drinks and your head was feeling increasingly heavy to hold up, making your neck ache. You didn’t really mind the pain, in fact you welcomed it, this pain was much easier to manage then the dull throbbing kind that had been tormenting your heart. Your head fell back against the cushion behind you and you felt as if the world was spinning off its axis beneath you. Your elbow dug into Robin’s side making her groan in annoyance. The lights in the room started to overwhelm you and a wave of nausea washed over you. 
“Robin,” you mumbled, eyes squeezing shut. 
“Hm?” she hummed in response, her head lolling to the side. 
“M’gonna be sick.” 
“Now?” 
You swallowed thickly and shakily rose to your feet. “Right now.” you confirmed. You started pushing past people in pursuit of the bathroom, you could hear Robin behind you faintly. 
“Coming,” she said. “Slow down, I'm right behind you.” 
You ran up the stairs, as fast as you could in your current state, hands clawing the railing for balance. You stumbled through the hallway, checking behind you when you had reached what you hoped to be the bathroom door only to realize you had lost Robin along the way. 
Your clammy hands turned around the knob and your body fell limp against the door as it swung open, fluorescent light invading your eyes. You dropped to your knees and shoved the door shut behind you, too nauseous to attempt locking it. Your hands shook as they gripped the toilet pushing up the seat before heaving roughly into the bowl. 
Your eyes squinted shut as your head pounded, the music playing from downstairs was slightly shaking the foundation of the house and you were suddenly longing to be carried away and tucked into your bed. 
You thought of Steve, not whoever it was you encountered downstairs. But your Steve, the one who would give you piggyback rides from the bar to where his car was parked blocks away when your feet hurt. The one who sat criss-cross applesauce on Nancy Wheeler’s bathroom floor with you in his lap, peppering your shoulders with kisses when you got too drunk last New Year’s Eve. 
You brought the back of your hand to your mouth wiping roughly, your cheeks were wet with tears. You must’ve been sitting there for at least fifteen minutes, thoughts lingering on the past. When had you even started crying? You tore at the toilet paper roll beside you and balled up a sizable portion, you wiped at your eyes furiously, disregarding the mascara that was surely staining your face. 
What a mess. 
You shuddered at the thought of Steve seeing you like this, messy and broken and crumpled on the floor. You wondered what he would think, if he would feel sorry or just sorry for you. 
As if the universe were playing some sort of cruel joke on you, while the thought floated around your head you heard the door unlatch and when you reluctantly followed the sound you saw him standing above you like some sort of awful miracle. 
He looked shocked first, not expecting anyone to be in the room, but then the guilt washed over his face and you knew he had realized what he really walked into. 
“Fuck, hon-.” he stuttered, his hands reaching out instinctively. 
The half murmured term of endearment felt like a punch in the gut and you physically winced as he approached you. 
His eyes filled with hurt at the way you reacted to his entrance, he used to scoop you up in his arms and quiet any of your pain with nothing but his presence and whispered words of comfort. 
“Go,” you pleaded, your voice scratchy and raw. 
“I can’t just leave you lik-” he sighed, and looked at you helplessly, as if saying what do you expect me to do. As if leaving you heartbroken and soiled on the bathroom tiles would be physically impossible for him, like he wasn’t the reason behind it. 
“Are you okay?” 
You sniffled and stared at the floor, “Please go.” 
Steve squatted beside you and hesitantly reached out. He swallowed hard when you flinched under his touch as he pushed the hair out of your eyes, ensuring it was only mascara marring your pretty face and you weren’t physically harmed. 
You refused to meet his eyes and when he tried to pull you off the ground, tugging gently on your hands, you shook your head.
“What do you think you’re doing?” you protested.
“Taking you home, c’mon.” 
“No,” you argued. “Why would I do that? No, I’m- I’m here with Robin, she’s-” 
“She’s passed out downstairs,” he interrupted. “You need to go home.” 
“You’re drunk. I’m not-” 
“I’m stone cold sober.” he informed, bringing his finger to his nose and then extending out as if he were doing a field test. 
You finally locked eyes with him, and the unshed tears that sat brimming on your waterline seemed to drown him. 
“I can’t, Steve.” you cried. “I can’t be in a car with you and…her.” 
His shoulders fell a little and his expression softened ten fold. 
“She’s not- I wouldn’t put you through that.” he said, as if it were obvious. “That’s why I’m not drinking,” he explained. “I already took her home, she’s babysitting her little brother tomorrow morning. She couldn’t stay late.”
You scoffed wetly, “How responsible of her.” 
“Be nice.” he warned and you wanted to punch his perfect face. 
“I’m not nice.” you slurred, under your breath. 
“Bullshit,” he replied. “If someone hit you with their car you’d be the one to apologize.” 
“Not anymore.” 
“Don’t buy it.” he dismissed “Can you walk?” 
“M’fine.” you clipped, rising to your feet while trying to ignore the feeling of the ground swaying under your feet and the pit of nausea still living in your stomach. “Gonna walk home.” you decided, pushing past him to get out of the tiny restroom. 
He caught your forearm in the hallway, steadying your wobbly walk. “Yeah right. I’m taking you home. C’mon, I’m parked out front.” 
You tried to tear yourself out of his grip, blaming the fluttery feeling in your stomach on your overindulgence. 
“I don’t want your help. Okay?” you barked. 
He ran his free hand through his hair and sighed, discouraged. “Look, I know you must hate me right now and I understand…” he paused and his expression remorseful. For a second you caught a glimpse of the man you loved, the man you still love. “Three weeks doesn’t erase four years. Please, let me take you home.”
Your will to fight him dwindled fast and you had to actively restrain yourself from embracing him and burying your face in his chest. 
“Robin-” you started. “I can’t just leave her here.” 
“I know.” He smiled sadly, still in complete awe of the way you cared for those lucky enough to be loved by you. “Go wait by the door, I’ll make sure she has a way home.” 
“Thank you.” you mumbled. 
“Of course.” He said, the second half of the sentence dying on his tongue. Anything for you. 
You slowly made your way to the door and leaned against the wall, forcing air into your nose and out of your mouth in heavy puffs. You could feel your nerves buzzing beneath your skin at the prospect of being in a confined space with the person who dizzied you most in the world. 
When Steve returned your eyes had drifted shut and your hands rested on your temples. 
“Nancy and Jonathan are gonna give her a ride, they’re leaving in about an hour.” he informed. “You okay?” 
You nodded slowly in response, “Thanks again.” 
He hummed and opened the door for you, his hand instinctively finding its way to rest on your lower back and guide you out of the house. 
When you got to his car he opened the passenger door, helping you in and leaning across you before you had a chance to shut it to secure your seat belt into place. Your whole body tensed when his fingers brushed against your hip and he muttered an apology. 
He joined you in the car and switched on the radio before pulling away from the party in the direction of your house. Neither of you spoke as you exited the neighborhood so you laid your head against the window and watched the trees under the dim street lights as you passed by. 
He turned a corner and you pressed your fingers into the leather seat beneath you to fight the unrest in your stomach that arose from the car’s motion. 
“So, why’d you come back?” you asked, breaking the uncomfortable silence. “Y’know after you dropped her off.” 
Steve’s fingers tightened around the wheel and his eyes flicked to the side to see you looking at him timidly. 
“I said I’d help clean after.” he lied, swallowing the truth with a forced gulp. 
He couldn’t tell you the real reason behind his return, that he had been in agony imagining you at the party saddled up with some former jock, no one there to supervise your open drinks, or to ensure you had a safe way to get home. 
“And now you’re driving me home.” 
He realized leaving again before the party was over contradicted his lie and cleared his throat. 
“I just wanted to make sure you were okay.” 
You felt the sadness that had been lingering in you all night slowly turn to anger. 
“Of course I’m not.” you clipped, facing out the window again. 
“Sorry,” he said. “That was probably a stupid thing to say considering…” he trailed off, biting his lip so hard he wouldn’t be surprised if he were to draw blood. 
“Considering you dumped me and got a new girlfriend within a few weeks?” 
“She’s not my girlfriend.” His heart hurt at the idea that anyone but you could hold that title. 
He turned into your neighborhood and you had never been more thankful to see your house in the distance, that is until you realized all the lights were still on. Your parents were still up. Fuck. 
To anyone else this may not have been a big deal, you were legally an adult but that never seemed to matter to your parents who were as strict as nuns when it came to drinking. 
Steve seemed to notice the lights as well because his car came to a stop a few meters before your driveway. 
“Well shit.” he remarked
“I can’t go in.” you said. You knew you must’ve looked quite disheveled, most likely smelled of alcohol and while you felt much more sober since emptying your stomach you knew there would still be a sway in your walk and a slight slur to your voice. 
“You can stay at mine tonight,” he offered. 
You laughed in amusement and anger. “I don’t think so. I can go to Robin’s.” 
“She’s staying at Nancy and Jonathan’s and they won’t even be there for another 45 minutes at least. You can sleep in the guest room.” 
He put the car in drive again and started towards his place before you could argue anymore. 
The rest of the ride was spent in silence, nothing but the quiet hum of the radio and the drum of Steve’s fingers on the steering wheel. When he pulled into his garage you got out before he had the chance to do anything annoying and chivalrous like open your door or help you exit the vehicle. 
You stepped inside the house that may as well have been haunted, every nook and cranny linked to some fond memory you shared with your ex boyfriend. The kitchen where he had miserably failed at cooking you an anniversary dinner, the shower where he carded his fingers through your sud soaked hair, the bed where you had lost your virginity and he held you in his arms till the morning came. Every part of this house was woven into your love story and you felt suffocated within its walls. 
He threw his keys onto the kitchen table and kicked his shoes into the corner as you stood frozen in front of him taking in your surroundings as if for the last time. 
“You can shower if you want,” he offered. “There’s some towels in the guest bathroom.” 
“Okay.” you replied coolly. 
“Just stay there a sec, I’ll go grab you some clothes.” 
Your eyes were glued to a slightly faded polaroid of the two of you stuck to the fridge with a Hawkins High Basketball magnet. The fridge was barren otherwise, Steve’s parents not the type to decorate with school pictures or family memorabilia. The photo had been taken the night Steve told you he loved you and the night you returned the sentiment. In the picture your cheeks were pressed together, spread taut with matching smiles. You had been so happy that night, quite opposite to how you were feeling now. 
Steve startled you from your thoughts with a gentle hand on your shoulder, he followed your line of sight to the photo and spoke, “One of my favorites. You looked breathtak-”
“Steve,” you cut off coarsely. “Just stop it.” 
“Sorry, I just…it doesn’t matter. Here,” he said, handing you a stack of folded clothes that you recognized as your own. “I didn’t think you’d wanna wear anything of mine and I remembered I had these in the back of my dresser.” 
You accepted them with no word of thanks and tried to convince yourself that he was right, that you hadn’t wanted him to hand you a pair of boxers and one of his sweaters still lingering with his cologne. 
Once you reached the bathroom you stripped yourself of your uncomfortable party attire and turned on the hot water. You stood under the sweltering stream and welcomed the burn, letting all the rage you felt for Steve bubble up and swarm your head for the entire duration of your shower. 
When you finished you hastily pulled on your clothes, your skin was now scorched and your anger hot and irrational. You stormed towards his room and swung the door open with not so much as a knock. There he sat in the dark, only the moon providing any illumination. His body stretched across his bed on top of the covers, head tilted to the ceiling with nothing but a pair of plaid pajama pants resting lowly on his hips. 
“I hope you know,” you started, startling him with a finger pointed lethally in his direction. “I’m not going to go around thinking you’re some great guy just because you took pity and helped me tonight.” 
Steve could only flick his eyes in your direction briefly, too emotionally exhausted from the night to even sit up. “That’s not why I did it.” 
“Oh, of course not.” your voice dripped with sarcasm.”King Steve is just such a gentleman he couldn’t have it any other way. Don’t act like tonight was motivated by anything other than guilt.” 
“Do you actually believe that?” 
“You brought that beautiful girl and you just carried on with her like I wasn’t even there. Then when it broke me you just had to come along and pick up the pieces.” 
“I’m tired.” he muttered, your name following the statement almost inaudibly. He was tired of fighting with you, tired of seeing the way your eyes burnt into him no longer with lust but something even stronger, hurt. 
“You don’t think I’m tired? You don’t think I wouldn’t give anything to close my eyes and not see her hands all over you?” 
“Fine, I regret it. I should’ve thrown away her number the second she gave it to me. I should’ve never brought her to the party. Is that what you want to hear?
“No!” you cried. “It’s you who shouldn’t have come to the party and you shouldn’t have come back after you left. You could’ve just let me have this one night, I needed it.” 
“I don’t regret that. I had to go to the party, you know that.” 
“I don’t see what that has to do with me.” 
His eyes softened, “It has everything to do with you.” 
Suddenly you saw the events of the night under a completely different lens.
- - - 
Then Steve saw you, your cheek mushed against the blonde douche’s shoulder, bottom lip wobbling as you suffocated in the unexpected eye contact. 
Donna leaned in and whispered something in his ear that made his jaw clench and he shooed her back gently with the wave of his hand. 
“Sorry, bud.” he said, eyes unmoving from yours. “Not interested.” 
“Looks like she moved on after all.” Donna had purred in his ear. 
He looked at you cozied up to someone new and saw nothing but red. He had to get out of there fast. 
 “Why would I do that? No, I’m- I’m here with Robin, she’s-” 
“She’s passed out downstairs,” he interrupted. “You need to go home.” 
He searched the party desperately, only able to catch his breath when he saw Robin laid across the couch, mouth hung open, Nancy and Jonathan not far by. He forced through the crowd till he reached her and felt his heart rate skyrocket when you were nowhere to be seen. He shook her shoulder till she roused enough to open her eyes a sliver. 
“Where is she?” he asked, voice urgent. “Where, Robin? Is she okay?” 
Robin grumbled and rolled over but not before muttering two words, “Sick. Upstairs.” 
“So, why’d you come back?” you asked, breaking the uncomfortable silence. “Y’know after you dropped her off.” 
“I said I’d help clean after.” he lied, swallowing the truth with a forced gulp. 
“And now you’re driving me home.” 
He had never once stayed after a party to clean, not even for his closest friends, and certainly not for some former football player he had interacted with maybe 4 times in his life who still found spitballs to be the height of comedy at the ripe age of 21. 
- - - 
“You were looking for me.” you realized. 
Steve met your eyes and exhaled heavily, “Aren’t I always?” 
You held eye contact and despite the dimness of the room he could see your chest heaving up and down with troubled breaths. You turned to leave and Steve fell back against his pillows, scrubbing his hand roughly against his face. 
Just as you were about to cross the threshold into the hallway you spun on your heel and faced him again. 
“Steve, I-I’m sorry okay? I don’t know why I can’t be civil with you. I feel like my whole life has been flipped upside down over the past few weeks. And I know I can’t blame you for falling out of love with me… I just can’t- I’m not ready to see you fully over us-” your voice cracked painfully in the back of your throat. 
“Baby…” he sighed sadly, sitting up in his bed. 
You felt tears spring to your eyes, bringing your hands to your face and then dropping them shakily. “I’m sorry.” 
He looked at you sorrowfully as your body finally gave out, succumbing to the tears. Before you could stop yourself your legs carried you towards his bed, falling forward on top of him and wrapping yourself around his body. 
“Please- I just, I need to-” 
You couldn’t bring yourself to finish the sentence but Steve always had a knack for reading your mind and he knew exactly what you meant. You needed to feel him, to hold him again, breathe in his scent, run your fingertips over his skin. He knew because the feeling was all too familiar, he felt it before he shut his eyes every night, before the sun rose through his curtains in the morning, and every moment in between. 
Wordlessly he closed his arms around you and your nose pressed into his bare collarbone. His hands traveled up, threading into your hair, cradling your head against him.
“Breathe,” he cooed. With his chin tucked into your neck you could feel the wet lick of his lips when he spoke. 
“I’m not fully over us,” he admitted. “Not even close.” He laughed, humorlessly, nudging his nose under your ear, “You’re honestly doing my head in.” 
You let your eyes fall shut, wanting to take in every bit of this moment, unsure if you would ever experience anything like it again. 
“I really miss you.” you whispered into the diminutive space between you. 
A pained noise slipped out from Steve at your confession. He wished you could see the bigger picture he had sketched up in his mind, how in a few years he would be a blip in your memory, a single dim star amongst the blinding constellation of your future accomplishments. 
Steve may have been considered slightly ditzy around town but he had never been stupid, he knew you were too good for him, he always knew. From that very first kiss in his BMW four years ago when the two of you were only 16 he knew that the way you felt for him would be temporary. The admiration in your eyes would fade and the curtain would fall. He wasn’t King Steve like he had been in high school, he was just Steve, plain unpromising Steve. 
You had always been gifted, you were going places, you had aspirations. The only aspirations Steve could ever remember having were in regards to you, taking care of you, loving you, putting a ring on your finger, making you his wife, and eventually building a family with you. A loving happy family, nothing like the kind he had grown up with.  
He wanted the best for you, and as much as it fucking devastated him he wasn’t sure that meant him anymore. 
But his resolve was growing thinner, wearing down with each exhale that passed your lips to tickle his skin.  
“I miss you too, honey. So much.”
“But, Donna-” 
“Isn’t looking for anything serious.” he finished for you. “She’s good company but she's not you. No one is.” 
“I don’t understand.” 
“I can’t explain it.” 
“Why not?” you pleaded against him. 
“It’s better this way. I promise, it will be.” 
You nuzzled further into him, “How?” Your lips ghosted his clavicles and he trembled. “How could it be better than this?” 
His leg slotted between your thighs, pressing you into him. You jumped at the feeling, a symphonic sigh exiting you against your will. 
“Shit- sorry.”
You panted and shook your head. “No, don’t be. It’s good.” 
He readjusted in an attempt to put some space between you, feeling himself getting sucked into your hazy arousal rapidly. You felt the familiar outline of his excitement against the side of your legs and he hissed. 
“This would be real fuckin’ selfish of me.” he struggled to say while you chased his lips, yours already pouted in anticipation. He caught your face and held it in place in front of his own, searching for any lingering signs of intoxication, “You’ll never forgive me tomorrow.” 
“I’m fine,” you said honestly. The shower and time passed had sobered you up fine. 
“Doesn’t matter. You’ll hate me for leading you on.” 
“Are you?” 
Steve pondered your question and tried not to let his face show how unsure he was of the answer. Could he really stay away from you? Would either of you ever be able to fully move on from your paramount love? 
You read him like a book and grazed his chest with the tips of your fingers, bringing him back to you. 
“Even if you are, I couldn’t hate you.” 
He swiped his thumb across your eyebrow and watched your eyelids flutter in response. “I hate myself for hurting you.” 
You leaned forward until your noses bumped and spoke into his mouth, “Then make up for it.” 
Finally, Steve closed the space between you with a hungry kiss. His lips were warm and chapped against yours, his teeth scraping against the suppleness of your bottom one to pull your mouth open and allow him to show you just how sorry he was. 
For the first time in weeks you felt your lungs fill with no resistance and strain against your ribcage with a welcome sort of discomfort, like an overfilled balloon you were seconds away from popping and Steve knew it. 
His hips rutted against yours and one of his hands slowly traveled down from the velvet of your cheek to palm roughly at your breast. The feeling made your breath catch in your throat, coaxing a high pitched squeak out of you and Steve smiled against your lips, his teeth knocking yours. 
“Feels good?” he asked. 
“Mhm.” you hummed as he turned his attention to your neck, nipping and kissing the dewy surface. “Always does. You always do.” 
His responsive whimper is slightly muffled by your skin but you bathe in it. 
“You too.” he reciprocated. “I won’t last long if you keep talking like that, you’ll knock my fucking lights out.” 
“Sorry,” you said sweetly, leaving him bewildered at how you could be so sensual and so adorable at the same time. 
You sat up, straddling him. Your hands traveled south to breach the barrier of his waistband and wrap your hand around him. 
He sucked in a pained breath and tugged the shirt barring his view over your head. “M’hurtin, honey. Lemme feel you.” he pleaded. 
You pulled the shorts you wore down your legs leaving you bare and Steve took in the sight as if for the first time. 
His hands caressed your stomach, sliding downwards until they rested firmly on your hips which twitched in anticipation. 
“Somehow I forgot how perfect you are.” he revealed, his words drenched in sincerity. “No one is this perfect,” he pinched your heated skin once and you whined. “You’re a fucking novelty.” 
You stared down at him and wondered if he had ever really looked at himself in the mirror. You scraped your nails lightly down his chest, “You are.” 
He coughed and denied it with the shake of his head, bringing one of your hands to his lips for a loving kiss. “I’m nothing compared to you, baby.” 
Desperate to get on with it you raised yourself above him hovering whilst lining him up to you. Steve watched your face as you nudged his tip against your clit, your eyebrows pulled together and mouth falling into a gaping “O” shape. 
You shimmied forward a little bit and slowly started to sink onto him, pausing as soon as the tip was in. You winced at the stretch and were reminded that it had been a while since you had taken him at all, let alone like this. 
“You okay?” he asked, holding you firmly in place to be sure you didn’t slip any further before you were ready. 
You nodded, but stayed still. “Hurts a lil s’all.” 
Steve kicked himself when he realized he had done nothing to get you ready for him. “I’m sorry, honey. I should’ve prepped you a bit. Hop off a sec.” 
“No,” you protested, letting yourself drop another inch or so. “I didn’t want you to. I jus’ want you inside.” you whined as you sunk all the way down, ignoring the burn in your stomach. 
Steve cursed to the ceiling as you fluttered around him and he forced himself not to lift his hips and grind even further into you. 
He clenched his teeth as he spoke, “Is it painful?” 
“It’s perfect.” you answered in more of a sigh than anything else. 
“Yeah?” he said, reaching forward to circle your clit with the gentle movement of his thumb. 
When you moaned and rolled your hips forward he praised you in a rambled jumble of words.
“Fuck. Holy fuck, baby. You're so good, so so good for me. Shit. Warm and fucking tight. God, am I making you feel good? C’mon talk to me, lemme hear that pretty voice.” 
You nodded, brain fading into a lust filled frenzy. “Feels unreal, Stevie.” 
You tried to raise yourself with shaky legs but he stopped you with a firm grasp. 
“Wha-” 
“You think I’m gonna let you do any of the work tonight? It’s not happening, baby. I’m making it up to you, remember? Lemme make you feel good, hm?” 
He lifted you with hardly any effort and then pulled you down again, the drag of him against your walls pulling a series of sweet moans from you. 
Repeatedly, he bounced you against him, encouraging you with candied praises every time your face pinched in pleasure or you clenched around him, dizzying his head. 
After a few blissful moments you felt a wave of pleasure rush to you like the tide to a shore and you panted out a warning. 
“Stevie- I’m gonna,” 
“You gonna cum for me, honey? C’mon give it to me. I’m right there with you, sweet girl.” 
You shook and cried out as your release drowned you, sweeping Steve into the current right alongside you. 
You collapsed forward in exhaustion and he held you against his sweat slick body, peppering gentle kisses across your forehead. 
“You here w’me?” he whispered. 
“Yes.” you replied, voice light. You pulled yourself off of him and tried not to think about the loss, tried not to think about what would happen now. 
Rolling over next to him you shivered at the cold air on your bare skin and he wordlessly tucked you under his arm and rubbed his hands up and down on your arm, sparking a friction fueled warmth. 
He watched you carefully unable to decipher the thoughts behind your head for what seemed like the first time ever. 
“What’re you thinking about?” 
You swallowed and tilted your head up to look at him. “What happens next.” you admitted. 
He nodded in understanding. “What do you want to happen?” 
“Steve.” you chided. “You know what I want.” 
“Honey…” 
“Do you love me?” 
“Of course I do.” he said shocked. 
“Then what’s exactly the issue with us being together?” 
“It’s complicated. It’s not about me not loving you or not wanting to be with you.” 
“Then what is it?” you demanded, sitting up and pulling your previously discarded shirt over your head. 
He ran his hands through his sweat damp hair in exasperation. “We don’t make sense anymore,” he admitted. 
You bit your lip to hide your hurt and spoke timidly, “Why not?” 
“Our lives are gonna go down really different paths and I don’t want to be the douchebag high school sweetheart that holds you back from everything you’re capable of. I’m gonna end up here, working some mundane job, having a few kids and accomplishing nothing special. And that’s fine, I’m content with that but that’s not you. 
You frowned at him. 
“You’re meant for something bigger. Everyone knows it. I won’t give you some simple life when you deserve a grand one.” 
You felt white hot anger seeping through your skin and pushed yourself off the bed bitterly. Without saying a word in response you started searching the room for your shorts, feet stomping with every step. 
“What are you doing?” he asked, anxiety clear in his voice. 
“I’m leaving.” you said. 
“It’s the middle of the night.” 
“I don’t care.” you hissed. “You really think you’re helping me by making decisions for me? Do I not get any say in what I want?” 
“Of course you do, that’s what this is about. One day you’re gonna want more than I can offer you. I'm just trying to make it easier for you.” 
“Wow,” you breathed. “You really have no idea what I want then.” 
“So tell me.” 
“Steve.” you said, shimmying your shorts back up your legs. “I want you. No ifs ands or buts. Have I not made that crystal clear the entire time we’ve been together?” 
“You have but-” 
“No, I’m not done. You’re right, I don’t want a simple life. I want to settle down here, in the town we fell in love. I want to marry you and have kids with you. I want to make dinner with you every night and after we eat I want to wash the dishes while you dry. I want to take your clothes out of the dryer and fold them while they’re still warm. I want to kiss you every night before I go to bed and roll over next to you every morning. I want us. A life where we end up together couldn’t be simple because it’s us together, and I love you so much more than any other possible outcome.” 
He stared at you bewildered. “You do?” 
“Yes! I’ve been in absolute hell these last few weeks over this?” 
You approached him and took his hands in yours. 
“Look,” you sighed. “I’m so sorry that people in your life have made you believe that you aren’t the talented, smart, capable and loving man that I know you are but none of them matter when it comes to our relationship. That’s just us, me and you. And I know,” you pressed a hand to your heart. “There’s no one in the world who could give me a better life, or love me better than you. I love you, Steve.” 
He looked up at you, half sorrowfully half hopefully, “Does this mean we’re back together?” 
“Do you want to be?” 
“Of course I do. I’ve been miserable without you.” he replied. 
“And who’s fault is that?” you laughed, the mood in the room beginning to mellow out into the typically comforting setting you were accustomed to when you were with Steve. 
“I’m sorry I ended us and that I tried to make your choices for you.” he said. “I promise I won’t do it again. Oh, and I love you, like more than anything else in the world and I’m fucking devastated that I made you think I didn’t.” 
“I love you too.” you echoed, melting into his arms once again not planning on letting go anytime soon. 
He pressed his nose into your hair and smiled, lopsided. “I’ve got a lot of making up to do, y’know.” 
“Good thing you have the rest of our lives.” 
He tugged you onto the bed making you break into a fit of giggles as he pressed sloppy kisses over your entire face. 
“I think I’ll start right now.” 
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w8lkers · 7 months
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★ | carl grimes headcanons
“what’s wrong? you’re doing that face again..”
“that’s just my face?”
carl is not a very expressive person. that’s not to say people were unable to read him, he actually becomes easier to read the more time you spend with him. when he’s upset, he looks more spaced out and he avoids eye contact. when he’s angry, it’s an easy spot. if there’s one thing carl was good at, it was giving people the stink eye. he couldn’t help it sometimes. most of the time, you have to coax his emotions out of him - he’s a hard nut to crack. talking about feelings with carl tends to feel more like an interrogation.
“i got you this flower..”
“aww.. thank you, this is my favourite flower.”
“no it’s not. your favourite flowers are daisies.”
carl loves gifting you small things that he finds. one time he gave you an acorn he picked up whilst on a supply run. when you point out the heart carved into it, he gets embarrassed and insists that it was there before he found it. he lied.
he also remembers almost everything you say to him. he’ll forget your eye colour, but he will remember the time you told him a story about your second grade teacher who accidentally broke a chair. carl prefers listening over talking generally, which makes him a very good listener. that doesn’t mean he remembers everything.
“are you a photographer? because i picture us together.”
“um…wouldn’t you be the photographer then?”
bad pickup lines. he found one of those joke books one time and boy did he read it. he even uses some highlighters to pick out and sort through ones that would make you laugh, ones that he thinks would actually work and ones that he found funny. when he first started using them, he was a bit awkward about it. sometimes he’d mess up the lines, or his delivery would be slightly awkward. practice makes perfect though and he gains more confidence eventually.
“do you think we’ll ever have kids..?”
“i think we’re both too tired for that question, carl...”
carl thinks about having a family all the time. he has his fears about pregnancy and childbirth after what he went through with his mom, but he can’t help but daydream about it. when he’s sleepy, he’s a big rambler. it’s the one time of the day where carl is the one who is talking the most and you hold it dear to your heart. sometimes he talks about what he did that day, but sometimes he talks about what’s been on his mind lately and he’ll take advice, or comfort from you. bedtime is usually the only time he’ll open up with ease. something about being relaxed in bed just before going to sleep with you there next to him is a perfect mix. on the odd occasion, carl gets into a mood if he’s sleepy enough, where he just wants to bombard you with affection and compliments. he’s a sweetiepie.
“no one’s even looking, c’mon just a small kiss..”
“carl, daryl is right there! are you crazy?”
carl. pda. Yep. he doesn’t care who is around. he wants to be as close as he can get to you at all times. i don’t mean that he’s trying to make out with you in front of everyone in the world, but he’ll always have an arm around you, or hold your hand and his favourite, around your waist. he likes being near you, it makes him feel safe. he feels safe knowing that you’re safe and close to him. of course with pda comes the occasional tease from michonne and daryl. it always embarrasses him, but not enough to stop him.
“you know, i used to be judith’s favourite.”
“see what happens when you skip out on too many tea parties?”
carl loves LOVES spending time with you and judith. it’s no secret to anyone that carl loves his baby sister. seeing you play pretend with judith makes him feel happy, like everything he’s been through was worth it, because now he gets to see this.
“carl, samantha doesn’t have a boy voice!”
“i’m not doing a girl voice.”
“carl.. do the girl voice please :( ...”
getting carl to join you and judith while you play with dolls together is an almost impossible task. except it’s not, you know he secretly wants to play. it’s a joint effort between you and judith, but you manage to convince him to join in every time.
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Always Been You (Dick Grayson x Reader) - Chapter 3
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Always Been You (Dick Grayson x Reader)Reader Insert: she/her pronouns Word Count: 2627 Warnings: death, violence, fighting, bloody wounds, angst, infuriatingly oblivious love interest, slowburn Spoilers: Young Justice Seasons 1-3 plot partially, but it ended in 2022 so catch up.
Y/N Prince - miracle daughter of Wonder Woman and Steve Trevor - and Dick Grayson - first adoptive son of the Batman himself - have been best friends since day one. They went to school together, trained together, kept each other's alter ego secret from everyone else, and they founded the Young Justice alongside their friends together. 
But as time progressed, Y/N and Dick grew up and Y/N found herself wanting more than friendship with Dick. But he never seemed to indicate that he reciprocated her feelings. And when Wally died and Dick abandoned the team, Y/N realised he never would. So she heads to the one place she knows will help her become a stronger warrior so that one day she can take her mother's place: Themyscira.
Two years after his leave, Dick reaches out to his old friends to help him with a mission. But when he finds out Y/N left too, he chases after her in the hopes to bring her back.
However, when the two finally reunite, it isn't as warm as he hopes. Not to mention Themyscira becomes under siege as they go to war against Echidna, the Mother of Monsters in Greek Mythology, and her army of monstrous children.
Will Dick and Y/N be able to put their past behind them and save the Amazons' homeland? Or will they fall, unable to tell one another their true feelings?
~~~
'You are five miles from the estimated target, Master Dick,' Alfred said over the intercom of the Bat Wing.
Immediately upon entering Wayne Manor, Dick had rushed to his childhood room - the one he still used on the occasion he worked with Bruce as the Dynamic Duo, or he needed some space from his duties as Bludhaven's hero - and packed a small duffle of clothes and weapons and ran straight for the Bat Cave. As promised, Alfred had the Bat Wing waiting, ready for take off, and Dick barely greeted the old man before leaving Gotham far behind.
Dick had been flying for almost twelve hours and hadn't slept a wink. Sitting at the control panel with only a wide window of open sea to look at, Dick rubbed his tired eyes as the shadows of sleep flickered in the corners of his vision. He had to stay awake, just a little bit longer at least.
And then... Well, he'd cross that bridge when he got to it.
'Is there anything else you need from me, Master Dick?' Alfred asked.
Dick shook his head initially, then remembered Alfred couldn't see him. 'No, thank you, Alfred,' Dick replied, sitting up straighter in his seat. 'I should be fine from here on out.'
It was quiet for a moment, and Dick thought Alfred had signed off accidentally. But then he spoke. 'Are you sure there is something out here? I know you and your friends' findings seem well-supported, but there is only open ocean. There isn't even an under water volcano or ancient mountain range recorded there.'
'Which makes it an even more suspicious place,' Dick countered. 'Trust me Alfred, there is something out here.'
'Let's just hope Miss Y/N is too, or you'll have wasted Master Bruce's fuel. And I will tell you now, he will not be pleased about that.'
The mention of her name caused Dick's heart rate to increase with anxiety. But he quickly recovered as he scoffed. 'I don't know why he's complaining,' Dick said nonchalantly. 'He's the billionaire of the family, after all.'
'Have you seen the price of fuel these days?'
That caused Dick to chuckle slightly, just imagining the singular raised eyebrow Alfred used to ask the silent question of Are you serious? In that moment, he was once again grateful for Alfred. He barely asked any questions as to why Dick needed the Bat Wing, he just trusted Dick that it was for a good reason. Unlike Bruce, where trust needed to be hard earned, Alfred had always given his trust and love unconditionally.
The Bat Wing suddenly jerked as it seemed to hit something. Or, maybe, something hit it.
'Master Dick, what was that?" Alfred asked, worry lacing his words.
Suddenly alert, Dick brought up the different cameras hidden in the ship to try and find what had cause the sudden shift, but sound nothing.
'I'm not sure, Alfred,' Dick answered, running diagnostics over the ship in case of damage. 'There seems to be no damage to the Bat Wing, and there is nothing on the radar indicating another ship or flying creature of sorts.'
The ship rocked again, and Dick gripped tighter to the control handles as he took the ship off autopilot. 'What in the world!'
'Master Di-,' Alfred said, but his words were glitchy and some parts were coming through slowly. 'A-re yo- all rig-' Alfred was cut off before he could finish.
'Alfred? Alfred,' Dick called, but he got no reply. He slammed the control handles in frustration. 'Damnit.' He was on his own now.
However, his annoyance dissipated at the site he'd only ever seen in books he'd borrowed from Y/N when they were children.
To say Themyscira stood atop a mountain would be an inaccurate description. It was more like Themyscira was the mountain, with a long staircase weaving and winding up the entire mountain from the ivory beach and cerulean waters at the base of it. There were small stone huts with woven roofs closer to the beach, but quickly evolved into larger houses and buildings of impressive white columns and marble. As Dick flew closer to the island, he spotted a large coliseum used for sports and physical trials like the ruins in Greece, and a small amphitheatre next door that no doubt was used for the arts.
Atop Themyscira's mountain could only be the royal palace, held up by intricately carved statues of women and marble columns, decorated in plates of gold and held together by green grape vines that covered the palace walls, the statues, the columns.
The bed time stories he'd heard from Wonder Woman when he and Y/N would have sleepovers was more than his imagination could ever conceptualise, and the few descriptions and drawings of the island in the books he'd read were amateur attempts that held no candle to the real deal.
It was, in a word, paradise.
I must've hit the invisible barrier before, Dick deduced as he took in the sight of it all. That's why communications were knocked. That's why he'd felt so anxious and tired the closer he got. Now that he'd passed through, he felt ten times better.
A beeping pulled Dick out his trance, drawing his attention to the radar. Something was coming at him. Fast.
Dick looked up in time to see a large fire ball flying at him and barely dodged it. It was so hot Dick felt its heat through the window as it scraped by.
'Woah!' Dick cried, angling the Bat Wing so Dick could see where the fireball had come from. And, more importantly, who had thrown it. Down on the ivory beach was a line of catapults set up Dick hadn't spotted before, and he could just make out an army milling about around each catapult as they reloaded the catapults.
Before he knew it, he was swerving as another fireball flew at him, this time catching part of the left wing and melting it. Sirens blared, indicating the damage, but Dick didn't have time to worry about that. The Amazons thought he was a threat. He needed to change that, or he'd be a goner.
Crazy an idea as it was, Dick manoeuvred through the line of fireballs the Amazons catapulted at him towards the beach. Once he was close enough, he turned on the speaker so the outside world could hear him. 'Please, Amazons of Themyscira, I mean you no harm,' Dick announced to them, hoping he sounded genuine. 'I am going to land my aircraft on your shore. I just want to ta-'
He didn't have time as a small boulder connected with the left wing, sending the Bat Wing into a spin that Dick couldn't control. Sirens blared in the cockpit, reds light flashed and his front window lit up with the message SYSTEM FAILURE in bright red letters. The steering was shot, his vision was impaired, so Dick just closed his eyes and braced for impact.
The Bat Wing hit the beach hard, knocking the wind out of Dick for a moment. Once he'd regained his breath and the world had stopped spinning, Dick checked his immediate surroundings. He was in one piece still, and the Bat Wing hadn't exploded. Good start.
Before he could unplug himself, a spearhead stabbed through the glass of the front window, shattering it completely as the Amazon wielding it pulled it out. Dick was temporarily blinded by the sudden invasion of sunlight to his senses, but he still put his hands up in surrender in case they still thought him a threat.
'Please,' he begged through laboured breaths. 'Please, I don't mean you any harm. I just need to talk with someone you might know. Please.'
'Síko órthios, pareísaktes,' a strong voice hissed above him, her words whipping out like a delicate snake. She yanked him from his seat, breaking the seatbelt as she did, and threw him onto white, hot sand.
Vision coming back ever so slowly, Dick saw more figures approaching where he laid on the beach, spears and swords and shields in hand. All women, and all wearing brown leather skirts, sandals, and breast plates and bronze helmets of the ancient greeks. A small crowd formed around him, leaving no room for escape.
Realising this, Dick hauled himself to his feet and spun around to survey the group with his hands raised. The women ranged from youthful to mature, but all of them looked capable of killing him should he dare run. Capable, and willing.
'Poios eísai esý?' a woman with long brunette hair asked. She looked slightly older than him, perhaps mid to late 20s. But knowing how old Wonder Woman had lived for already, Dick was almost sure all of the women surrounding him were much older than they appeared.
I really regret not taking those Greek classes with Y/N now, he thought to himself, not having a clue what the woman had asked him. When he didn't reply though, she repeated her question but with more annoyance and aggression, pointing her spear towards his chest.
'I am Dick Grayson,' he said, not sure if they could understand him or not. 'I mean you no harm. Please, I must talk with someone you know... Do you understand me?'
The blank faces he received in return were answer enough. The brunette turned to two other women beside her, whispering to one another. It only lasted a moment, for then the brunette raised her spear higher towards Dick's throat. The rest of the women also raised their weapons, all pointed at him.
'Ánthropos apó to exoterikó,' she announced for all to hear, her delivery final and true, 'edó tha petháneis!'
Just as she raised her spear, Dick threw his hands up again and cried, 'Y/N!'
He waited for pain, for the sensation of falling and then nothing, but it never came. The brunette paused, spear still raised above her, and looked at him curiously.
'Pós gnorízeis tin prinkípissá mas?' she asked, and to Dick's surprise, he recognised one word. Prinkipissá. Princess.
'Yes,' he said, seizing potentially his only chance at surviving. 'She would be your princess. Sorry, your prinkipissá. Daughter of your champion, Diana.'
At the mention of the mighty Wonder Women, the brunette lowered her weapon entirely and turned to the other women as quiet murmurs broke out amongst the group. Dick wasn't sure what he'd started, but he knew they knew of who he spoke of, and what power her name held. Not just anybody could wield her name.
'I came here to speak with Prinkipissá Y/N,' Dick continued, and then he put his hands together as if he were about to pray. 'Please, can you lead me to her? Is she even here?'
The brunette and her two friends looked him up and down for a moment before consulting one another one last time. After what felt like an eternity, the brunette stepped forward and looked him dead in the eyes.
'Piáste ton!' she cried, and two women grabbed both his arms, ensuring he couldn't escape. 'Tha ton páme stin prinkípissá mas.'
She then turned away, and Dick was lead by the arms after her and the rest of the crowd. He managed look over his shoulder to see the wreckage of the Bat Wing. The left wing was one metal sheet away from tearing off completely, and the shattered glass and the many dents in the side of the ship just added to Dick's dismay. Oh yeah, Bruce is going to be pissed.
If the Amazons let him live and he ever got off the island, Bruce would definitely make sure Dick suffered long and hard.
Dick was lead up hundreds and hundreds of steps, walking through the bustling city of women and young girls all going about their daily lives. For some reason, it was off putting to Dick to see women and children doing the washing or playing games in the open street. He wasn't sure why, but he envisioned the whole island as warrior women who all fought and died for each other and their home.
They could probably still whoop my ass, he thought as he was marched by some children who were previously playing a game with some dice and a ceramic cup before he came along and stole their attention. It came to Dick's mind that these young girls probably had never seen a male before, and so he smiled at them as kindly as he could. Some of the children smiled back, others had their mothers nearby collect them and take them inside. Dick couldn't blame them for it. Wouldn't he do the same for his child if the roles were reversed.
Why the hell am I thinking about children right now? he asked himself, but he didn't have time to ponder the question as they quickly walked up a final set of stairs into an open field of green covered in warrior women training. When the whole group stopped, Dick was brought to such a startling halt that he thought his arms were going to pop out of their sockets. Thank God for that, he thought, feeling his legs ache with all the climbing. Or is it Zeus I should thank? Maybe Hera? Athena?
The brunette raised her spear, and those not holding Dick prisoner did the same. 'Prinkipissá,' she called out above the din of all the sparring and training. 'Échoume kápoion gia esás.'
Dick wasn't sure who the brunette was talking to at first, but then his gaze settled on a group of women just ahead of them. It seemed it was a six-versus-one situation, as six women surrounded one young woman with familiar H/C hair. The six women ran at the young woman in the middle, all taking swings with their fists and swords, aiming for her head and legs and mid section. While the young woman took a few punches, she didn't flinch with pain. She would just grab her attacker's wrist and flip her over and slam her into the ground.
The fight only lasted a minute, and ended with the H/C haired pointing a sword at her final opponent's throat as she pressed her to the ground with her foot.
When she flipped her hair as she turned to face their group, only then did Dick fully realise who it was.
'Y/N!' he cried out, the brightest smile spreading across his face. Two years since he'd last seen her, his best friend. After the not-so-very-warm welcome, he was beyond relieved to see a familiar face.
But instead of reciprocating his smile with the one he'd always admired since they were children, Y/N paled as if she had seen a ghost. Her whole body seemed to freeze up as her eyes connected with Dick's, and for a moment Dick feared he had mistaken some poor girl for his best friend.
But her shock melted away, and Dick was met with angry eyes and a stony face. Oh, yeah. That's Y/N. He couldn't recall the amount of times he'd seen that expression before, but there was no mistaking it.
His fear turned towards himself as she suddenly, with sword still in hand, stormed towards him, ignoring the other women around her still training.
'Y/N, it's me Dick,' he said, just in case she hadn't recognised him, but still she came at him, raising the sword to her side. 'Wait, what are you doing?
As she stood a step from him, she changed her grip on the sword's hilt and swung the butt of it at his head.
'Hey! Don't-'
The last thing he saw were Y/N's angry eyes of E/C before pain exploded from his right temple and darkness overcame him.
~~~
Síko órthios, pareísaktes = On your feet, outsider
Poios eísai esý? = Who are you?
Ánthropos apó to exoterikó, edó tha petháneis! = Man from the outside, you will die here!
Pós gnorízeis tin prinkípissá mas? = How do you know our princess?
Piáste ton! = Grab him!
Tha ton páme stin prinkípissá mas = We shall take him to our princess
Échoume kápoion gia esás = We have someone for you
---------------
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calmcoldevening · 3 months
Note
Hello, I was wondering if you could write something for Thomas Hewitt. I mean if you don't want that's fine and things. You don't have too. But if you do I was thinking about something like the reader is like a baker and like maybe they worked near him when the slaughterhouse was actually open and up for business. If you do this thank you. Also have a nice day!
Of course, kitten. Thank you for your request! Have a nice day, drink water qnd and eat well, remember about your health please ♡⁠
Thomas Hewitt x baker!reader
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• You've always enjoyed cooking for as long as you can remember. At first it was something simple, but these dishes were already very tasty. Over time, you realized that you wanted to do only buns and various cakes.
• You lived in a small town in Texas where rumors spread very quickly and everyone knew each other. Your baking became popular very quickly, dozens of people came to you every day and small children came running in the hope of eating something new and delicious.
• You knew about the Hewitt family, and they even visited your bakery a couple of times. He was usually a tall, muscular guy with long hair, as you found out later, Thomas. Despite his rough appearance, he was always quite timid and shy when he placed an order at your bakery. The guy couldn't talk, so usually his mom would write him a note. Over time, you yourself began to understand what he needed to buy. Thomas seemed like a very nice and caring guy to you. From time to time, he would come to your bakery no longer for bread or anything else, but just to see you, and bring with him a slightly careless bouquet of wildflowers. It was so sweet. And even though you saw how other residents of the city looked at him, you didn't care. You even gave Thomas various buns and cakes 'just for his beautiful eyes'. It was very confusing for the guy.
• Thomas stood at the counter with his head down, long dark hair covering his face, hiding his bright maroon cheeks. The guy's eyes ran wildly across the floor, feeling his own heart beating loudly in his chest, and his hands nervously fingered the edge of his shirt. You always made him blush, he doesn't know why.
• Before, Thomas, most of the time, didn't care about his appearance, after all, he just went to work. But now, every time Luda sent him to your bakery, Thomas tried to look neat and tidy, he began to take care of his clothes and other things. Now he could be seen with his long hair tied in a low ponytail.
• The guy really liked your baking. When you got closer, you even let him into your kitchen. The man was sitting good on a chair, just watching your gentle movements and enthusiasm for cooking. He was delighted when you gave him a taste of cream or dough. Thomas was also happy to help you if you needed it.
• The man has always been surprised by your passion for cooking. And he also didn't understand how you could cook so beautifully, he had never eaten anything so delicious in his life. If Thomas was the epitome of cruelty and brute force, then you looked like a gentle fairy godmother who always gives warmth and care around.
• When the city eventually emptied, you surprisingly did not want to leave this place. And you've become attached to Thomas. It all happened so fast that you didn't even have time to figure out how it happened. And so, you were already at the Hewitt house, standing in the kitchen, once again cooking some sweet masterpiece, and Thomas was standing behind, gently hugging your waist. He loved your pastries and sweets. But his favorite sweet was you. And although you didn't like their lifestyle, you were happy to brighten up their cruel lives with your sweets. You even sold them in Mrs. Hewitt's shop, which she was very happy about, because they bought your cakes very well.
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loveandmurders · 6 months
Text
You belong to Ambrose III (Poly!Sinclairs x f!reader)
Hey everyone!! I'm very happy you still are enjoying this little series. In the end, it should be four parts!
If you have missed the first chapter, it's here, and the second one is here.
Hope you'll enjoy and keep commenting because it's really helping me writing again <3
Warnings : no proof reading, mentions of killing, of sexual activities (nothing explicit), of toxic love, morally grey reader, angst.
You refused to open the door for the rest of the day. 
You knew where the key was hidden so it had been easy for you to lock it up. And even if Bo could have shot the door open, the brothers agreed it was a terrible idea because you were already pretty mad at them. 
The situation was killing them. But it was better than your absence, and if they had to choose between this or you being gone forever, they would rather keep you here, no matter how upset you would be. 
You were home.
On the other hand, even if they didn’t say it, they all believe they knew you well enough to seduce you back in their embrace. After all, it wasn’t the first argument you had with them, and you always came back to them. You came back because they always showed you they were eager to make things better for you. You were the only person Bo ever apologised to, for instance, because they would do anything for you. 
They wanted to believe that things were going to be back to what it was supposed to be. The good thing was that you didn’t seem afraid of them anymore. They were pretty certain they could fix the situation from there. They just needed to not do anything that would make you feel threatened. 
They also hoped you remembered how they loved you, how they could only love you. You should know how insane and obsessive their love was. You should be able to understand why they needed to kill your friends. And it wasn’t truly to punish you, it was mostly because they couldn’t stand you around other people. You were supposed to love them, and only them. You were theirs, forever.
Bo thought he might need to also kill your mother because he noticed she kept calling on your phone. She was worried for you, because it had been a while she hadn’t heard from you. She had a bad feeling about all of this, so she kept calling. In the end, he answered it. She didn’t recognise his voice as he explained to her, doing his best to conceal his southern accent, that you were currently under the shower but that you would call her back soon. It appeased her, even though she seemed a little bit suspicious. She asked several times if you were okay. 
Meanwhile, Vincent and Lester got rid of the bodies. It was better to pretend you never went with your friends anyways. Vincent was a little bit sad to let go of such perfect people, but he was ready to sacrifice his art to you. Lester was happy those friends of yours were dead but he thought they might have been too quick at killing them. Maybe they should have convinced you it was better that way, before doing it. He was aware they had been too impulsive; the brothers had never been too good at staying calm when it was about you.
As Lester went back to his truck, he sent a little look at your room window. He prayed to the Devil for you to open the door and agree to talk to them.
You were getting crazy inside your room. You couldn’t rest and everything around you reminded you of your childhood with the Sinclairs. You rolled your eyes when you noticed the boys kept your clothes, even the very old ones. It seemed like they couldn’t get rid of anything that used to belong to you, even broken toys. 
Your heart tightened in your ribcage when you took a closer look at the drawings littering the walls. More memories flooded through your mind. You used to be all happy together. The first drawings you found were very childish, but slowly they got better. There were a lot of portraits of the whole family, including you. You remembered the day you were doing the portrait of Trudy was the day you first kissed Vincent. The weather was so hot and no one was around, so you told Vincent to remove his mask. He agreed, because it was you. You made him feel so normal, so handsome even. You didn’t really know what happened, but you ended up on his lap, kissing him as if your life was depending on it. His hands had held you with such strength, almost leaving bruises on you. He knew he was your first kiss, and it made him feel good about himself. He grew addicted to your touch and kisses then, and you used to love being his little goddess.
You also found gifts the boys got you. You found quite a few rocks and you remembered Lester offered them to you during your first date with him. The twins were barely leaving the two of you alone, so you both decided to sneak away. You went together in the woods, knowing no one would find you there. You let him guide you, trusting him. He was a little bit shy, so you had been the one who took his hand in yours. You could see him again, watching you with heart eyes and letting escape how beautiful, smart and amazing you were. He couldn’t stop babbling and when he finally calmed down, he kissed the back of your hand, his eyes lit with adoration. He promised you to only belong to you that day, and he never broke his word.
You also found a photo album of your teenagehood and early adulthood. You shivered when you noticed how the boys were always looking at you with so much love, tenderness and desire, in literally every picture of the four of you. Bo often had his arm wrapped around your waist. Vincent was holding your hand. Lester was hugging you from behind. There were photos of you all partying too. And at the end of the album, photos of you kissing the boys. Bo was passionate. Vincent was possessive. Lester was hungry.
One photo caught your attention. It was a summer night, you were wearing a cute little dress and Bo took a picture of you. You remembered that that night, the boys were relentless around you. You were the prettiest thing in their lives and they wanted you. You remembered you laughed so much that night, teasing them. The truth was you were burning for them too. At the end of the night, Bo brought you to a hotel room away from Ambrose and he made love to you for the first time. You both desired each other so badly. He had been so gentle to you, eager to make you feel good before his own pleasure. Despite the rumours, Bo was as virgin as you then. He had waited for you because he only wanted you. He learnt how to play with you, patient and attentive, and then he taught his brothers. You had a very fond memory of that night.
You had very fond memories of the boys.
You didn’t want to admit it but you missed those happy times. It upsetted you a lot, even more than you already were. For the moment, things seemed to be all shattered to pieces, litke the plate you threw at the wall earlier that day. How could things go back to what it used to be, now they killed your friends, now you spent years away from them?
And yet, a little voice inside your head was begging you. She asked you to forgive them. Did you really care about your friends? Could you care when you were finally home? When you could finally have their hands on your body, after all those sleepless nights, dreaming about the feeling of their skin against yours? You never forgot how they made love to you. And whenever you were with someone else, you wished it would be them instead. 
Maybe you shouldn’t have left Ambrose, but it was too late. Maybe you shouldn’t have done this road trip, but it was too late as well. You were stuck, and you didn’t know what to do anymore. You thought you should want to escape, but your heart was breaking even more at the idea of leaving once again. You tried to tell yourself that you were simply afraid of what the Sinclairs would do to you if you tried to get away. But you knew you were lying to yourself. You weren’t afraid.
It was the middle of the night when you heard something scratching at your door. You were trying to sleep, but you needed a shower, and some food, and you started to feel lonely, locked up in there, so you couldn't rest. The noise was also preventing you now. You got irritated so you finally opened the door to meet a cute dog at the entrance. You didn’t know Jonesy but you could tell she was the family dog and she was well taken care of. You sat on the floor and started to pet her. You had to admit that she brought you some comfort, because she was very soft and affectionate. You quietly talked to her as she greeted your caresses with kisses of her own. 
The twins were chatting in the kitchen, planning about what to do about you, when they heard you opening your door. However, they got confused when you didn’t seem to come downstairs or to walk to the bathroom, so they looked for you.
They quite enjoyed seeing you cooing at Jonesy, and it felt to them that fate was speaking once again because their dog never liked strangers. And yet, she seemed to be all over you already. You felt you were watched so you looked up and met their gazes. Your attention quickly went back on Jonesy. You weren’t sure what to do, and it was annoying you.
“Ya hungry?” Bo asked in the softest way he could manage, hoping to coax you, but you simply shrugged. “Ah com’on, baby girl” he hummed. 
The twins carefully moved closer to you and sat on the floor as well. Jonesy loved to have her humans at her level for once so she happily barked and greeted the boys who petted her. 
You stayed silent for a little while. You all were very tense, which was strange because you used to be so at ease around each other. The twins couldn’t wait for you to relax. And you couldn’t wait to forgive them or to get out of here.
“I’m sorry for your friends. We all really are.” Vincent finally signed to you. The only source of light was coming from your room but you were seeing enough of his hands to read them.
“No you’re not, or you wouldn’t have done this” you snapped
“They were in the way. They would have never agreed to leave you here and they would have called the police on us. We couldn’t take the risk when we finally had the opportunity to bring you where you belong. We didn’t have any other choice” Vincent continued
“Whatever you say” you replied
“Lester is really sad you seemed so upset at him earlier and we really want to fix the situation with you.” Vincent tried again
“I’m not sure we can fix anything” you whispered. You felt sad, but not only because of your friends.
“Ya’re one of us, ya always had been.” Bo said as he reached for your hand and brought it to his lips to kiss. You tried to not react to the kiss. And then he didn’t allow you to remove your hand from his grasp, actually trying to bring you closer to him. “I didn’t mean what I said earlier, love, I’m sorry. Ya know I say stupid things when I’m angry” he finally apologised. “We’re blessed ya’d fallen in love with the three of us or we’d’ve killed each other to be your favourite lover” he hummed and you knew he was only half joking about it. 
“And yet my mother said you wanted to marry me” you replied as you leaned against the frame of the door. Jonesy put her head on your lap.
“Still want it…” Bo hummed. Vincent sent him a little look. “And speakin’ of your mother, she keeps callin’. Told her ya’d call her back soon” Bo told you before handing your phone back to you.
“Could call the cops on you” you replied as you took your phone. Bo shrugged.
“Ya won’t. Ya still love us too.” Bo replied with a cheeky grin and you arched an eyebrow at him.
“You seem very confident about it, Bo” you commented
“Ya’re angry at us for the moment, and it’s normal, ‘cause we kill your “friends”. But ya’ll forget about them soon enough” he replied
“How do you know that?” you groaned
“Ya’re actin’ like ya used to. Ya ain’t afraid of us, ya call us out, ya got mad at us when we ain’t doin’ what ya wanna. Ya called this room, yours. Ya’re sittin’ on the floor like if ya’re ownin’ the place. Which ya do, by the way. Ya always did” Bo enumerated the reasons that made him think you were still in love with them “And it’s been years ya should’ve called the cops on us. Ya knew what we were doin’ here and ya knew our plans. And yet, ya never called them.” he continued and you looked away. You couldn’t argue with that.
“I wanted another life, that’s why I left Ambrose. Of course I kept thinking about you guys a lot, but I didn’t want this mess.” you told them
“And yet you came camping close by Ambrose”. Vincent noted “Like if you were trying your luck”
“Yes. I was tempting the devil I guess, and he didn’t miss me” you sighed, wondering what you were going to do now. 
“Tell us what we can do to make things better” Vincent asked
“I don’t…”
You jumped when your phone rang. You answered when you saw it was your mother, with the only desire to reassure her so you could peacefully think of the mess you were in without having to worry about her calling the cops. You half realised that you indeed really didn’t want anything bad to happen to the three men you used to live with.
“Hey, mom” you said
“Hey, darling, where are you? I couldn’t join you easily today.”
“I’m sorry about that, my phone died and we had to find a hotel for the night” you lied with so much ease. You learnt it from the twins.
“When did you say you would come back home?”
“I’m not sure, mom. We’re… getting behind the plan because we faced some car issues. Nothing serious, don’t worry.”
“Is everything okay? You sound strange”
“Of course everything is alright, I’m just tired. I call you tomorrow, mom, have a good night, love you.” you said before hanging up. 
You closed your eyes and took your head in your hands. You could have told her about the kidnapping and the murders, but you didn’t. You didn’t want to finish breaking everything with the Sinclairs. Bo might be right; you might be still badly in love with them, even though it was a mistake that already cost you your friends. 
You felt the twins gently stroking your hands and then arms. They had missed touching you. They moved closer to you again, surrounding you like they used to.
“Let us show ya life can be worth it here. We ain’t deservin’ ya, but ya know we’re good at takin’ care of you” Bo whispered to you and you really wanted to believe it.
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PART IV
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