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#But I finally feel a little less hopeless
cur10uscr0w · 6 months
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Found out tonight that one of my friends stumbled on my mtg mpreg fic, missed my name and the tag, read it, and got angry at how good it was... Then found out I was the author and cursed me out (affectionate) for how compelling it was and asked to beta read... Alongside getting six hours of commission work done and some good games of leagueoflegends, tonight has been a good one :)
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yanderenightmare · 5 months
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TW: NSFW, yandere, f!reader, bondage, abuse, punishment, intense spanking/whipping-ish
gn reader
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“Please- plea- m’so- sorry-” You sob, voice cracking on its own blubbering. Chest full of panic – heaving for a fix but achieving little less than spurring even more hysteria.
“Haah…” He sighs. Casually fixing your bonds tighter around your wrists, hoisting them a little higher above your head until you were properly stretched up on your tippy-toes.
Shivering in just your undies in anxious wait of his anger.
Stroking your back while holding your belly in a steady hand, he thinks he’s never felt fear quite like it, but unfortunately, “Y’broke the rules, Sunshine… and now yer’ gettin’ punished.”
He unbuckles his belt. Your eardrums burn at the crisp sound, so much spiked blood rushing about, making you go dizzy. 
You think you might pass out.
“What did I say the rules were, hm? ‘You remember ‘em?” He mumbles in a steady tone, speaking awfully softly with his lips pressed against your temple. Waiting for your answer.
You give a sob and a pitiful nod, and he hums in return, rubbing calm circles into your shivering, goose-fleshed skin.
“Recite them for me.” He requests, nose rubbing your hairline as you shiver from his touch.
Voice unsteady, filtered through tears and a hopeless sense of terror – chin tipped up, needing to gasp for breaths. “N-no fighting, no- no arguing, no run- running-”
“Mh…” He hums, taking in the scent of your shampoo with a sniff of your crown, placing a kiss there as though in kudos – or as a small mercy before getting started. “And you managed to do all three in one night. ‘You feel proud, hm? ‘You feel accomplished? Hm? Was it worth it?”
You whimper under the interrogation, feeling smaller and smaller by the second – so exposed where you are, practically hanging from the ceiling like dead meat. Stripped of everything that might’ve protected you – or that would have at least cushioned the coming onslaught of pain you knew to dread.
“Nah… it’s written all over your body. Goosebumps and cold sweat, shaking from tits to toes. You regret it, don’t you?” He murmured, winding his belt around his fist once, then twice, leaving a looped tail. “Mh, maybe you’ll think twice about it next time... or maybe you’ll finally learn your place.”
He finished with a soft bite to the chub of your cheek, then grabbed your chin just as gently, holding your face up to look at him as he sidestepped to your front. Leaning his forehead against yours, he stroked your jaw with his thumb – lips hovering just short of yours.
“I'm gonna hurt you, Sweetie.” He purred, stroking your asscheek with the cool leather in his grip – in such gross contrast to what you knew he planned on using it for. “I promised I would, and now I will…”
He kissed your lips then – slowly, sweetly – suffocatingly so as you cried – tasting your tears and doing a terrible job at withholding his grin as you felt it pull giddily at the corner of his mouth.
He licked his lips once he pulled away, walking a circle around you like a shark.
“How many hits do you deserve?” He mused. “I guess one for each rule you broke is fair, but it seems a little scant…”
He stopped behind you, placing a chaste kiss on your arm before nuzzling around it.
“Should we say thirty?” He offered, and your eyes immediately widened.
Shaking your head furiously, prayers already coming out in splutters. “No- please-”
“No? Too many?” He pouted, not bothering to mask his glee now. “Okay, okay, calm down, baby. Breathe.” He soothed with no effort. “I think…”
There was a pause – a hum of thought as he wrapped his arms around your front and swayed you back against his chest in a hug.
“Ugh fuck, I'm no good makin’ rules on the fly…” He feigned - sinking his jaw into the grove of your armpit before cuddling the soft flesh with his chin-stubble.
He sucked his teeth in a further display of thought before releasing an exasperated sigh.
“I really didn’t think you’d break ‘em, y’know? I thought you’d be a good pet…”
You trembled, eyes looking down at the belt held between his big hands – whimpering at the sight of him simply playing with it – psyching you out like a true sadist.
“But you just had to disappoint me, didn’t you?”
You bit your lip to stop a sob.
“Had to be difficult… and now I gotta make difficult decisions…”
He slinked off you, leaving you to wobble – toes barely grazing the cold basement floor.
You try your best to prepare yourself for the next events, but the more you brace yourself the more tense you get and the harder you cry. “Please- I’ll be good- promise- m’real- really sorry-” 
“I know, baby. I know~ I am, too.” He coos, kissing your spine while rubbing circles into your sides – feeling your ribs rattle with sniffles, struggling for air through your panic. “I wanna make sure we never have to be sorry again.”
He wraps an arm around the front of your hips, steadying you while stroking the loop of his belt over your plump cheeks – tentatively teasing the soft flesh with what was soon to come.
He licked his lips at the promise – already imagining the flawless flesh blooming with his marks.
“I think thirty is fair.”
“No- no please- please, don’t-” You thrash – but do so little more than in place.
“Don’t squirm.” He interrupts, his hand curling into your hip with blunt nails denting the fine skin, keeping you still, pushing your side snugly against his front – holding you intimately while gruffing out eerie murmurs still much too softly for what he was saying. “Remember, it’s another ten hits if you fight me and another ten if you argue.”
At least he doesn’t make you count....
You wouldn’t have been able to even under threat – too busy wailing.
Each hit like the lash of a whip, smacking you fast, one on top of the other. It’s enough to make you throw up after half of it – though it's mostly just water and acid.
He takes pity enough to allow you a small break. Wringing off his wife-beater and wiping your mouth with it – also brushing some of the sweat off your brow before kissing your forehead. 
“Halfway there, Sweetie- you’re doing so good~”  He whispered soothingly, holding your cheeks to pick your face up from hanging – looking into the hopeless look of your opium-blown eyes – so lost he didn’t know if you could even hear him.
He acts as though he’s sorry after, but the boner he’s got nudged against you doesn’t lie – desperately dry-humping your thigh for some sort of relief.
His breaths are tight and hot, puffed against your arm where he now mouths wet kisses. “Good-” He swallows thickly, brows tight-knit, voice thick with lust. “Good pet.”
You hadn’t noticed he was done. And the relief doesn’t register either. There isn’t much comfort in it to grasp, not with the pain still so numbingly intense that you can’t feel anything but the raw sting. 
He drops the belt to the floor and struggles his fly open, shoving the trousers down along with his boxers, stepping out of the heap in a rush – all the while sucking sloppy kisses on your shoulder and nape, mumbling praise. “Y’were so good- so good fo’me- gonna reward yah- my good fuckin’ baby- gonna make yah feel so fuckin’ good now-”
The flesh of your ass burns with welts and split skin, ugly marks already lining the once-pretty color with horrid shades of bruise-dark. Your throat’s ripped raw from all the wailing – only weeping harder when he takes your hips and sways you back to meet his fat erection.
He shamelessly rubs himself between your cheeks – frenzied with his mouth gaping, releasing a filthy shuddering moan while leering at the beautiful sight of his handiwork – feeling so proud he was blushing just from sheer sadistic enjoyment – even letting slip a breathy laugh now.
He hung his tongue out and let his drool drip onto the shaft, then placed another kiss between your shoulder blades. Gliding his tip down and, with the help of a hand, pushed it between your cheeks until it caught your entrance. 
A rugged groan blew hotly down your spine, and another cry was ripped from your chest as he sunk inside without a single spare second to waste.
He laid his face to rest against your back, nudging up inside you slowly with both arms wrapping around you like before – holding you snugly before he began the intimate pace, fucking only the deepest coziest parts of you.
“I love you, Sunshine- you’re mine- only one I give two shits about- rest can just fuck off for all I care- as long as I have you- right here… forever.”
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BNHA – Bakugou, Kirishima, Dabi, Hawks, Overhaul, Aizawa, Todoroki
JJK – Toji, Nanami, Geto, Gojo, Sukuna, Naoya
HQ - Iwaizumi, Matsukawa, Sakusa, Suna, either Miya twin
BLLK - Isagi, Reo, Kunigami
DS - Doma
CSM - Aki
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charliemwrites · 5 months
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Good morning! This is just a warm up, not canon to the series.
Anyway — bark, woof, awoo
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It’s a cool fall day when you nearly die.
Johnny’s run off into the woods barking - not his scary bark but his excited bark. You’re worried that he’s gonna get his teeth in some poor local wildlife and go hurrying after him, boots unlaced.
Of course it’s hopeless to go chasing after a wolf-dog even running at half speed, but you can’t stand the thought of him coming home with a dead bunny or something. So off you go, clomping through the trees, calling for your big dumb fluffy butt to come home.
But it’s not your Johnny that comes trotting out of the trees. No, it’s an even bigger, wolfier looking dog. Creamy white fur, honey gold eyes, and odd black markings around the face like a skull. You instantly know he’s not like your goofball, a little less human-friendly, perhaps more feral. Looks at you like he’s trying to decide if you’d make a decent meal.
Is someone breeding them and just.., letting them out?? Some weird poorly thought out attempt to reintroduce wolves to the UK? The thought makes you frown, praying that you won’t come out here one day to find some poor pups struggling in the wilderness.
For now though, you’ve got yet another gorgeous animal in front of you.
“Well, hello,” you coo, softening and smoothing your voice. His ears tick forward. “Look at you, handsome thing. Have you seen my Johnny boy?”
The dog tilts his head - your first indication that he is familiar with humans, recognizes the tone of a question. You hum.
“Alright big guy, would you like to come with me to find him or are you doing your own thing?”
He doesn’t respond (of course) except to make a little “ruff” noise. You consider him for another moment, then decide he’s not being aggressive and it’s safe to continue your search.
You turn and continue on the path, calling for Johnny. Don’t get far before your new friend sweeps in front of you, blocking the way forward. You make a noise as you stop quick, nearly losing your balance to avoid stepping on his paws.
“Oh you big jerk,” you huff. He instantly starts pushing at you, big shoulders pressing against your stomach as he shoves a big, wet nose into your neck and face, focusing on your mouth. You roll your eyes and gently push his nose away.
“Knock it off,” you grumble, trying not to laugh. “You wolves are so rude. You don’t need to do that to smell me.”
He moves on to your clothes, all the way down to your crotch. You’re ready this time though, taking a big step back and guiding his face up by the chin.
“No.”
He snorts and shakes off, looking almost annoyed.
“Oh, yeah, how dare I not let you sniff my junk?” you scoff, rolling your eyes. “Grow up, you big baby.”
A deep, raspy grumble starts up in his chest. You ignore him, patting at the thick muscle of his shoulder.
“Yeah yeah, you’re a big scary boy,” you joke. “Ya gonna bite me? Show me your big pretty teeth?”
When you reach for his face he takes a step back, ears flicking. Looks almost shellshocked. You finally break, giggling as you croon baby noises at him.
“Oh, poor boy, did I spook you? I’m sorry, baby. No, no you’re very scary. Very intimidating.” You start scooting around him, amused how curves around you almost like he’s afraid you’re going to touch him. “It’s okay, buddy, I just need to find my boy. I’m not out to get you.”
As if on cue, Johnny comes bursting from the trees. He barks when he sees you, then almost comes up short when he realizes the other dog is there.
You become acutely aware that you’re not all too sure how Johnny will respond to another dog - especially one so close to you given his protectiveness. You instantly move between them, calling his attention.
“There you are, Bonnie Johnny! Where have you been?! Naughty boy, you better not have eaten anything fluffy.” His ears go back, a little whine starting up. He ducks his head to let you grab at his muzzle, inspecting him for anything gross. “I do not feel like wrangling you to brush your teeth.”
Luckily, he seems clean. Whatever had him so excited, he must not have caught.
Movement behind you catches your attention, the other dog loping closer. Your eyes bounce between them, watching body language for any aggression or hostility. To your relief, Johnny seems almost excited by this new friend - the other one… well, he seems a bit more subdued, but lets Johnny lick at his chin and bump into his side.
“Okay, ready to head home, baby boy?” you ask, giving Johnny’s collar a gentle tug. “I have to start making dinner.”
He whines, turning those big blue eyes on you and positioning himself behind the other dog. You groan.
“Johnny, really… I don’t know if I can handle two of you. I don’t even think he likes me very much.”
As if to spite you, the other dog sits and leans in, licking at your hand. And damn it, it’s cute.
“Alright, hold on, let’s just see if…”
This time, the other dog lets you touch, feels around his neck for a collar that unsurprisingly isn’t there. You feel around his shoulders too, hoping for that tiny bump that means he has a microchip, but nope.
“If I have a nickel for every time I found a wolf-dog in the woods…” you sigh, turning back for home. “It would be two nickels but it’s weird that it happened twice.”
When you notice both pups stalling, you whistle sharply.
“Come. It’s getting cold.”
Johnny instantly bounds ahead with excitement while your new companion is slightly slower, staying just a bit behind and to the side of you so that you can see him from the corner of your eye.
Back at home, Johnny leads the way inside. The strange dog looks around curiously, sniffs at a few spots. It’s then that you remember Johnny marking the house his first couple days and notice that Mystery Dog is also unaltered.
“Hey.” Both dogs turn to you. You point at the new one sternly. “If you pee on anything in here - anything - I’m dying you pink. By god I’ll do it, there are dog safe hair dyes.”
You get a sneeze for that and he walks away with disinterest, but at least he keeps his leg down. You’ll take it.
Dinner is interesting, no fussing or fighting over food from either of them. When they’re done, you retire to the couch, Johnny happy to follow up until he sees that his new friend isn’t coming as well.
He starts yipping, bouncing, bowing, trying to get the new one to follow. You’re amused up until Johnny nips and the bigger dog growls, showing teeth. You plant yourself instantly between them.
“Hey.” You look the new dog in the eye, get into his space and back him away from Johnny. “No the hell you’re not.”
The new dog stares, eyes locked on yours, ears swiveling. You don’t back down, watching and looking waiting, still bodily between him and Johnny. Until finally his ears go back and he sneezes, laying down.
“Good.” You soften your voice, sigh. “Good boy.”
You offer your hand. Get a sniff and a resigned lick, then scratch at your new boy’s ears.
“You be nice, big boy. Everyone in this house is mine. I take care of everyone.”
His eyes do a weird thing then. You’re not sure how to describe it, combined with the way his head tilts. But you just chalk it up to Weird Dog Things and finally return to the couch, an oddly subdued Johnny clambering up with you.
“You can join us, honey,” you call to the other dog. “You’re welcome up here if you behave.”
He doesn’t take you up on it for awhile. You and Johnny settle in for your usual nightly shows. And then, about an hour later, movement draws your eye. The Mystery Dog, standing at the edge of the couch with his tail down, ears neutral.
Earlier drama forgotten, you smile at him.
“Hi there,” you chirp, “you want up? C’mon, bud. Up.”
He hops up with surprisingly gentleness, picking his way around your limbs and Johnny’s. He ends up crawling over your dog and settling half on top of him, and half on top of you, his chin settled between Johnny’s stupid perky ears. Johnny seems thrilled so you laugh a bit.
“What good boys,” you coo, giving them each a scratch and receiving a kiss in return. “Alright, this isn’t so bad.”
You fall asleep there, already trying to come up with name for your new pup. Maybe Phantom.
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On David Tennant and Aging
So, I’ve seen a lot of posts in response to Tumblr users’ habit of affectionately calling their favorite middle aged dudes “old men”, David Tennant in particular, saying things like “clearly you’ve never met an actual old person”, “omg you talk about these guys like they’re 80”, “please be normal about people aging”, etc. And on one hand, all of these statements are objectively right and true! But as someone who’s always been really fascinated by and found a lot of beauty in getting older (which I’ve explored in some of my writing on A03 because nobody else is going to do it for me), I’d like to provide a bit more nuance on how I think this label applies to David in particular.
David, obviously, in literal terms, is not “old”, at least not to me- I don’t personally consider people old until they get past 60. 52 is middle aged, simple as that. And yet, when I see David stuck with the “old man” label, it still somehow feels weirdly right, for a number of reasons.
It annoys me so much when people say David “hasn’t aged a day since Doctor Who”, because, well…
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He clearly has. A lot. He’s got forehead creases, deep crows’ feet and eyebags, and I think that post-Fourteen we’re gonna see him rocking the grey temples a LOT more. He also has the voice of an older man now, his upper range is still there but the default is much more deep and rich, with a gravelly, rumbling quality that just goes straight through you. I personally think Broadchurch was when David finally started to embrace looking his age- Alec Hardy just wouldn’t have been served by Ten’s fresh-faced boyishness.
Obviously, these are the kinds of changes you’d expect any 52-year-old man to have, but something about David just makes it all seem a bit more… intense? The expressiveness of his face combined with his almost gaunt frame makes his wrinkles very prominent, and when he works his voice to its emotional extremes, his lower register can sound positively ancient, to devastating effect.
David, I think, is someone with an old soul- I don’t think he could be as good as he is at playing ancient characters like Crowley and The Doctor if he weren’t. He has lived so many lives, given so much of himself to so many characters, often incredibly tragic ones, and I think it wears on him. David also has five kids. FIVE. Do you know how exhausting it is to be one of the hardest working actors alive and be a present, loving father to even ONE child? But David somehow does it anyway! Nowadays I see him and my heart breaks because he looks so tired, so weary and fragile. But he’s all the more beautiful for it to me because I know that that is because he is kind. He’s a deeply empathetic person who feels and lives to the absolute fullest, and that story is written so clearly on his face, along with every other story he has ever been a part of.
There’s other things about David that make the label endearingly fitting- his utter hopelessness when it comes to technology, for instance. And he’s just got that warm, wise, grandpa energy too sometimes- look at that above Fourteen picture and tell me I’m wrong!
I once showed my friend who’d only seen David in Doctor Who and Harry Potter a picture of David from Around The World in 80 Days. It was a particularly emotional scene, and his face had just the most beautiful expression of compassion and sadness, every wrinkle on full display. And she said, in a less than complimentary fashion, “he looks so old!” Which, of course, offended me quite a bit at first. But to me, referring to David as old almost feels like a badge of honor, something he’s earned by living fully and selflessly, working hard and being wise and compassionate beyond his years. I think David himself is secretly more than a little insecure about the fact that he’s getting older. There’s sadness behind every jovially self-depreciating remark he’s made about his age in the past year, particularly in comparing himself to Ncuti Gatwa. I know how much David struggles with his impostor syndrome and how people perceive him, and I can clearly see in his eyes the fear of being discarded, the anxiety he feels about if he’ll still be as loved as he was back in 2007 now that he’s closer in age to King Lear than he is to Romeo. So I hope David knows it’s a privilege to watch him grow older, to watch his soul and talents deepen with the crinkles around his eyes. If I, in my silly goofy tumblr girl-ness, call David Tennant an old man, it’s because it’s a label that suits him beautifully- even if it isn’t TECHNICALLY an accurate one yet.
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hedgehog-moss · 11 months
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Welcome everyone, please join us on Baby Poldine’s First Hike! This is going to be a long post because lots of nothings happened :)
Our short-term goal was making it all the way to the torrent without Poldine getting so stressed about being away from her family that we had to turn back.
Our long-term goal: finally having a picnic-carrying llama to accompany us on hikes, which isn’t something I’ve been able to achieve with Pampe because she’s Pampe, nor with Mama Pampy because she’s the matriarch and dislikes leaving her herd behind. (Is there a collective noun? a misdemeanour of llamas? or is it just herd?)
Emotional support cats were recruited to make things less stressful for Poldine. I had to interrupt their afternoon nap on the couch and carry them to the pasture one after the other, and they just lay there looking a bit bewildered, like can we resume our nap or...? But once they saw us dragging Poldine away into the woods they all got curious and followed.
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The llamas were a bit suspicious of these shenanigans and started retreating when I carried the second cat outside, so I sent my friend to the greenhouse to get some strawberries, which immediately brought the llamas back.
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Although Poldine took one bite of her strawberry and then refused to eat any more of it, because she’s still a baby who only likes familiar foods. (Her grandma volunteered to eat the rest of the half-bitten strawberry.)
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One thing we discovered about Pampoldine as we started the hike is that she gets very worried about being a lone llama when we stand still, but she looks reassured as soon as we resume walking. I think us walking decidedly while holding her rope makes her feel like she has a confident leader, while seeing us stop for any reason makes her panic like oh my god, you have no idea what you’re doing and which way to go, do you?
She occasionally tried to rebel and go back in the direction of her pasture, and in these moments all we had to do was grab the nearest cat and toss it in front of her. She would immediately pounce, enchanted, to try and kiss it; the cat would dart away like no thanks!! and Poldine would follow, and off we went again.
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Another thing we discovered about Poldine is that she is a compulsive cheek-kisser when stressed. As long as there is someone to nuzzle, the situation can’t be completely hopeless. So we had to accept a lot of kisses.
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As you can see, we made it to the torrent! It took a bit of patient coaxing to get her to go in the water (I think she was wary of stepping on the round slippery pebbles) but once she went in she looked intrigued and delighted. She was stomping her little feet to make splashes, and wading about, we actually had trouble convincing her to leave!
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For some reason she was more reluctant to follow us on the way back. Maybe once all the excitement of splashing in the stream died down, she suddenly remembered that she was alone far from her pasture and family and got stressed again. We once again tried the method that consists in throwing cats in front of us every now and then, like leaving a trail of bread crumbs behind you except the opposite and with cats. (Note that the cats had the option to flee from this disgraceful treatment any time.) Merricat and Mascarille were talented bait, often leading the way of their own initiative, but Morille complicated things by being a big baby who’d stop dead and start screaming whenever she came across any amount of water. Then we had to carry her across so she wouldn’t get her paws wet.
Pictured below: me, a llama, two cats, then a rivulet (where the mossy rocks are) and Morille lagging behind and screaming pitifully, waiting for a kind soul to carry her.
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We made it to the pine area of the woods and Poldine started walking a lot more cheerfully, and sniffing the air with an eager little nose, which was strange because we were still quite far from her pasture so it wasn’t home or other llamas she could smell. We wondered if perhaps she enjoyed the smell of pine resin (it does smell wonderful on warm days!), but then we left the pine woods and entered the hazel woods and she was looking even happier and walking even faster, and then we realised. We were being followed and had been for a while.
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Look at her smug little face. (It turns out she escaped because I forgot to tell my friend one of the pasture gates has a latch with an anti-Pampe dual safety system.) Ah, well, it wouldn’t be a proper llama post without Pampérigouste showing up somewhere she’s not supposed to be. She was being so discreet stalking us from afar behind a curtain of trees, we wondered if she’d been following us from the beginning. I hope not, because this small torrent ends up in the Atlantic Ocean and nothing good can come from Pampe discovering how to reach other continents.
Pampe stayed with Poldine long enough to make it look like she’d escaped out of concern for her daughter and not to find out where running water is so she can one day sail to freedom, then she left to have more adventures by herself, completely indifferent to Poldine’s little “mummy, stay :( ” baby goat cries.
Morille and Mascarille also deserted us (it looked like Pampe had promised them a more exciting hike) but thankfully we hadn’t run out of cats, and were able to go home at a decent pace thanks to Merricat, professional llama bait.
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All things considered it was a very successful hike! I’m glad Poldine enjoyed the water—now I want to take her to the spots that have a series of little waterfalls, see what she’d make of them :) Or even to the deeper pool you can swim in, who knows, maybe she’ll dive in! Throwing a cat in the water to encourage her would help a lot but I probably won’t do that. They’re very helpful cats who didn’t complain about being tossed ahead like petanque balls to show Poldine the way, but I don’t want to push my luck.
(I regrettably don’t have a picture of this but sometimes when I stopped walking, Poldine would rest her head on my shoulder like “...well? are we lost?” with her little bunny ears tapping the side of my head inquisitively and it was really cute.)
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weird-is-life · 2 months
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Don't deny it
Pairing: Rockstar!Sirius Black x fem!reader
Summary: Rockstar!Sirius keeps denying your relationship and you finally have enough
Warnings: angst, fluff, use of pet names, use of y/n, swear words, mentions of head injury, happy ending ofc
Words: 2.4k
You thought, that you've been just imagining it, but as you hear Sirius getting interviewed now, you know, you haven't.
Sirius has been keeping your relationship secret. Like everytime he got interviewed in the last few months, he played it like he was single. No mentions of a girlfriend, meaning no mentions of you.
Like you get it, that the band is really famous and that mentioning your name would kind of make your life a bit more difficult. With less privacy and everything.
But he doesn't have to say your name, he could just admit having a girlfriend. No need to go into details.
And you think, you've finally had enough when you hear him reply to the reporter's question.
"So my last question is for all of the fangirls, is Sirius Black taken?" the reporter chuckles as she asks it.
You hear Sirius laugh too," taken? No, I'm definitely not taken. Still very single, sadly."
You hear him laugh some more, before you turn the interview off. You feel like the dumbest fool.
Obviously, Sirius is too embarrassed of you to even admit he's dating anybody, there can't be any other reason.
And you've definitely had enough of it. Everytime he denies your relationship, you feel like your heart is being ripped out of your chest and stumped on.
You can't go on like this. You don't want to hurt like this anymore. You can't keep hoping that one day, he's going to admit having a girlfriend. You just can't, it pains you too much.
So with that, you decide to ignore Sirius, hoping he'll understand, that you don't want to see him ever again. You know, he shouldn't be home for at least 2 weeks, so hopefully by the time he comes home, you'll move on (too optimistic).
You stop responding to his texts, answering his phone and eventually, you even turn off your phone. You don't give him any explanation, you don't think he deserves one.
Sirius on the other hand is going crazy with worries just after a few hours of radio silence from you. He even calls your best friend to find out if you're okay. Apparently, you are, but you friend refuses to tell him anything more and just hangs up on him.
That doesn't ease his worries at all. He rakes his mind for an answer to what's he done? But nothing comes to his mind.
He tries to contact you again and again, but still, no response. You don't respond even when James or Remus try. So Sirius starts to loose his mind over you.
But he can't leave to go to you, no matter how much he wants to. The band is in the middle of finishing the new album, so he can't just bail on them. He tried it and got yelled by the management pretty badly. Threatening of getting let go by their label if he just leaves.
Sirius becomes completely useless at the studio and the band rehearsals, messing up everything, because his mind is stuck on you.
"Please sweetheart, pick up, please" Sirius whispers brokenly as he once again tries to call you.
You don't pick up and the phone call ends. Sirius throws his phone across the room from the frustration. He slumps onto a sofa and puts his head into his hands in defeat.
He sits there with tears freely running down his cheeks. It's a heartbreaking sight, seeing him so hopeless.
James and Remus find him like that and immediately know, that they have to push him to go see you.
"Go, " James tells him.
"What?" Sirius looks up confused, eyes red.
"Go after her," Remus adds encouragingly.
"But the label....I can't....they'll cut us off-"
"Doesn't matter, we'll just find some other label, there's plenty of them, that want us," James says, maybe a little smugly at the fact, that are are many labels that would kill to have The Marauders.
Sirius looks at them unsurely, "are you guys sure?"
James and Remus groan in frustration, "fucking hell, will you just get out of here, please?" James tells him.
Both Sirius and Remus chuckle, and Sirius quickly gets up. He comes up to the boys and hugs them tightly, squeezing them almost death, until they are pushing him away.
Sirius basically sprints out of the studio. He just grabs all the essentials and runs to the airport. One of the benefits of being famous is the private plane, which he happily uses on his way to you. He gets home in a record time.
The walk through the halls towards your apartment is very nerve-wracking. Sirius doesn't know what to expect, but he certainly doesn't expect all of his stuff, that he's left at your apartment to be sitting outside waiting for him.
"Shit," he curses under his breath and runs a trembling hand through his hair. He can't believe this is happening. He hopes it isn't. He hopes, it's just a nightmare, that he'll soon wake up from. He can't just loose you, he won't survive it, he's sure of that.
Sirius checks under the rug for the spare key and as expected, it isn't there. So Sirius just knocks.
No answer.
He tries again, because he knows you're inside, he can hear the shuffling of things.
"Y/N, please it's me, please open. I-I....can we please talk?" Sirius begs and begs, but you're too stubborn for your own good, you've always been like that, so you don't open.
He knocks and begs, until the neighbours are threatening to call the police on him. Sirius, defeated, sits down with his back to your door.
"Please, love, c-can we just talk?" his tired voice still doesn't break you, but Sirius doesn't give up, " okay, it's okay. I'll wait 'till, you're ready."
And he means it. He makes himself as comfortable as he can on the floor, intending to stay there however long it takes.
You, on the other hand, put on your headphones to ignore Sirius pleads and knocking. You just can't see him right now or anytime soon, your heart is too broken for that.
Even if one part of you wishes to see him and hug him, your body craves the comfort of him. But the rational part of you knows, that'd be too bad for you.
Sirius keeps hiding you and you keep hurting, you can't go on like this, not anymore.
You go to sleep, full of raw emotions, and even if sleep doesn't come easily, eventually you drift off.
In the morning, you wake up just as tired as you were, when you went to bed. And when you open your fridge, you realise, you don't even have anything to eat for breakfast.
You groan internally, you don't feel like going out of your apartment, like at all, but you have to, you can't go on without food.
You put on your most incognito clothes, hoping that you won't meet anyone you know, especially Sirius.
And as you open your door, they suddenly slam wide open, because of some weight pushing against it front the outside.
Said weight, you realise, is Sirius. You yelp in shock, when you see him and look at him bewildered.
Sirius wakes up with a groan. He wasn't thinking of you opening the door, when he first leaned against it. Now he kind of regrets it, as his entire head hurts from hitting it on the floor.
"What the fuck, Sirius?" you whisper yell, you would yell loudly, if it wasn't so early in the morning.
Sirius, upon realising that he can finally see you, stands up quickly. That isn't the best idea though, because his head starts to spin.
"Sweetheart, i-"
"Don't sweetheart me, Sirius. What the hell are you doing here? Have you been here since yesterday?" you question, angrily. You notice, that Sirius looks just as bad as you. Huge eye bags under his eyes, hair dishevelled like crazy.
"Yeah, I told, I'd wait until you were ready to talk," he just replies, giving you a small, hesitant smile.
You don't know, what to say. Your head is full of emotions and you can't decide, which ones are right and which ones aren't.
While you are thinking of what to say to him and glaring at him at the same time, Sirius head starts to spin badly.
"I think, I'm going to pass out," Sirius quickly tells you as he almost tumbles on the ground.
You, without thinking, catch him by the arms.
"W-what's wrong?" you ask a little scared. You find Sirius at your door and suddenly, he's passing out?
"I hit my head..." he mumbles out and hisses as he touches the back of his head.
You sigh, "fuck, okay, c'mon." You help him to your couch and swiftly go to retrieve some ice pack for his head and some water.
You put the ice pack at the back of his head and Sirius winces some more. "Sorry," you whisper.
"It's okay-....I- thank you, sweetheart." Sirius calls you 'sweetheart' again and you want to slap yourself for feeling the butterflies.
You quickly go to the kitchen, so he doesn't see the redness at your cheeks. "Shit," you whisper to yourself, "what am I going to do?"
You've wanted to stay away from Sirius as far away as possible and now he is in your apartment? You don't know if you want to run away, punch him in the face or kiss him stupid.
You stay as long as you can in the kitchen, basically just hiding away from Sirius and you complete forgot about your intention of going to the shop.
Sirius is unusually quiet, so after a longer while you gather all the courage you can to face him, only to find him fast asleep.
You sigh at the sight of his peaceful, asleep face, you quickly throw a blanket over him (before you can think it through) and head out to actually get something to eat, 'cause you're starving.
When you come back, Sirius wakes up at your arrival.
"H-hi, "he says with a groggy, sleepy voice. He smiles at you like nothing has happened, like everything is normal and it makes you suddenly so so angry.
You drop your grocery bags on the ground and quietly, but sternly ask, "you are embarrassed of me, that's why, right?"
Sirius is quickly woken up from his half asleep state by your mad voice and baffles," e-embarrassed? What? Of course, I'm not."
"Yes, you are," you say exasperatedly, you can feel, that your eyes are filling with tears, " you are!"
Sirius stands up slowly, but steadily and comes closer to you, not entirely close, he still wants to give you some space. "I could never be embarrassed of you, y/n, never."
"Then why?" you ask desperately as one tear rolls down your cheek, Sirius's hand itches to wipe it away.
"Why what? I don't understand," Sirius begs for explanation, while he rakes his mind for an answer to his question as well.
"Y-you keep pretending like I don't even exist, like you don't want me!" you try to suppress the little sob, that escapes your mouth. Sirius wants to fucking beat himself up for making you cry, even if he doesn't really know the reason why yet.
"What do you mean?" Sirius asks stupidly and you sob again.
"What? What? What? The fucking interviews Sirius, I mean them," you pretty much yell it to him, the frustration being too much for you.
Sirius finally understands and the realisation hits him like a crushing wave. He didn't know you were feeling this way about them," why didn't you say anything? I thought, you were okay with keeping our relationship private."
"Private yes, but not to the point you are literally chuckling and saying how incredibly single you are," you argue," that's just wrong. But if you want to be single so badly, i won't fight against it."
"No," Sirius blurts out instantly, " I don't want to be single."
"Then what do you want?" you sniffle.
"You. Just only you, nobody else," Sirius is trying to catch your gaze, but you refuse to look at him, "sweetheart, please look at me."
You hesitate, but eventually you look at him. You notice, that tears aren't only on your face.
"Have you been feeling like this for a long time?" Sirius questions and you nod, he curses under his breath.
"I'm so sorry, i didn't notice. Shit, I'm such an idiot, " he starts and without thinking he takes a few steps closer to you," I'm sorry, angel. If I knew, you were feeling this way, I would have never ever continued denying our relationship. Fuck, It was killing me to stay quiet about us, I wanted to tell them everything about you. Please believe me."
You stay quiet and your sobs slowly start to go away. Sirius waits for you to say something, anything really.
"N-not everything please," you whisper. You can't stay mad at your Sirius long, even if you'd really want to sometimes. It's just not possible to be angry with him, especially when he loves you so much.
"What was that?" Sirius doesn't catch it.
"Don't tell them everything about me please," you tell him as you, after a few days, smile. Truly smile.
Sirius takes it as a permission to finally touch you. He has you in his arms in a matter of seconds, squeezing you oh so tightly, while he laughs happily.
"Does this mean, t-that I am forgiven?" he asks you unsurely, as he reluctantly eases you out of his tight embrace.
"Maybe," you grin at him
"Maybe? What do I have to do to get a yes, huh lovely?" Sirius softly asks, he takes your cheeks into his hands and gently wipes the tears away.
"You could kiss me, you know," you say with a sheepish smile. You look too cute, cheeks red and puffy, for Sirius to say no to you. As if he would every deny you a kiss or anything else for that matter.
He instantly leans it and kisses you, it's soft and maybe a little desperate kiss, but it doesn't matter to you or him.
You let him kiss you as long as you manage without breathing, even if you know there're still things to talk about. You'll talk about it, just later, after you get enough kisses.
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punching-pentagrams · 2 months
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Love in a Hopeless Place
Chapter 11
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Chapter 1|Chapter 2|Chapter 3|Chapter 4|Chapter 5|Chapter 6|Chapter 7|Chapter 8|Chapter 9|Chapter 10|Chapter 11|Chapter 12 (FINAL CHAPTER)
Lucifer x prostitute fem!reader Word Count: 5.8k CW: Slowburn, Angst, Prostitution, Hurt/comfort, trauma, fluff, depression, anxiety, insecurity, sexual tension, kissing, light teasing smut
Lucifer laid up in his bed the room up in the apple shaped penthouse that was made just for him at the upper left side of the hotel. He had made this room thinking he was be here more often, and then he stopped coming. The last few weeks may had been more tolerable if he had been here... Oh well, too late for that. Now he laid there thinking of the things the hotel people had said about you and him. Could there really be a way of fixing this?
Lucifer sighed, he was really trying not to get his hopes up. He wanted to be able to get a chance to fix things with you, pick things back up with you, if you would let him, he was willing to do practically anything to make things right with you. He'd fight 100 Adams and Alastors at the same time just for the chance to hold you again. But all he could do was lay there, in his bed, wondering if Charlie and Angel were talking to you. Would you be mad? Would you give him a chance to talk to you again? Would the report back from this exchange be the last he ever hears about you?
After what felt like hours, he heard a knock on the door.
"Who is it?" Lucifer called out.
"Dad, it's me! Can I come in?" Charlie called from the other side of the door, Angel next to her and you a few steps back.
Your heart was racing, and hearing his voice on the other side of the door made it so much worse.
"Ya!" Lucifer yelled back, still staring at the ceiling. Charlie entered his room followed by Angel, you stayed outside of the door just out of view. "How did it go? Is she ok? Was she mad?" Lucifer asked Charlie and Angel, the pain laced in his voice was apparent. It broke your heart to hear it, but it made you feel less anxious to hear him prioritize concern for you. Care... as always.
"It went well, Dad, so well in fact... that we have someone here to see you," Charlie said, turning to the doorway.
Lucifer froze as he heard another pair of footsteps enter the room. He slowly sat up to meet your gaze, those beautiful (e/c) eyes, so full of their same gentleness and care, but also indescribable pain.
"(y/n)", he whispered, as if we was afraid that saying you name too loud might make you disappear.
You smiled, "Hi Lucifer," you said softly in return, his name sounded like music dripping from your lips. No malice, no anger, something... soft and beautiful, like you had been holding your breath for years and in saying his name you finally felt like you could exhale.
All you could do was stare at each other and take each other in. Charlie and Angel smiled at each other, then looked at you both as they started to back up.
"We'll just... give you too some space to talk," Charlie said, and then closed the door behind her and Angel. They pumped their fists with a quiet "Yes!" before running downstairs to tell the rest of the hotel crew what was going on.
You and Lucifer were now alone.
The air was tease and silent, neither of you knowing who should speak or make the first move.
At the moment you started to open your mouth, Lucifer moved to slip off the bed and onto his knees on the floor, hands on the ground in front of him and forehead pressed against his hands... bowing to you?!
"(y/n), darling... I... I'm sorry, I'm so... so sorry... Please... please believe when I say I don't remember what happened that night. I was drunk, I was nervous... I- I can't forgive myself for whatever I could hav-", Lucifer rambled as he started to shake as he kept his deep bow on the floor.
"Lucifer..." you say softly cutting him off, he jumped up a little, your voice suddenly being much closer than her expected. He looked up to see you on your knees in from of him, tears also starting to well in your eyes.
"You didn't hurt me that night," you said, tears starting to fall.
"I- I didn't?" he said through tears.
"No!" you cried, "I thought I had mad you mad and that's why you didn't call for me."
Lucifer's eyes went wide, "What?! No, of course not! I was so scared, I couldn't remember what happened that night and then I got a call from the Lounge that you were calling our appointments and I was banned from seeing you!"
"No! No, Lucifer I never banned you. You never hurt me, I- got scared, I was worried, you weren't acting like yourself, you were so drunk... you told me something... and I... I- I didn't know what to do... so I just ran! I ran and I disappeared for a little to figure things out. I came back and I waited, I waited and their was nothing! I thought you hated me and were done with me!"
"No! Never, never! Hells, Duckie, I've been a mess without you! I need you!" Lucifer cried. You and Lucifer were both a mess of hysterical tears at this point, and you collapsed into an embrace as you cried, reassuring each other through heavy sobs that you were not mad or upset at the other. It was a deep cry that you had both deeply needed in the arms of the other.
After several minutes, both of you started to calm down, tears still falling but now they were able to talk without heaving as hard through their sobs.
"So... what happened, exactly? Tell me your side of it all, please..." Lucifer finally choked out. You took a few more deep breaths before starting.
"You... you showed up at my apartment... you were drunk, stumbling, had a hard time teleporting. You were sweet but very touchy, you got more drunk and touchy as the night went on. I thought you were having a really bad day, then I thought you were nervous about may wanting to try being intimate again. But then... you told me something... something I didn't know how to respond to... I was scared about responding to it the wrong way, especially because you are the King and I am just a prostitute... I didn't know if you actually cared about me, even though it always felt like you really did, and the power dynamic was just so... confusing... so I pushed you away. I ran, I disappeared on a trip for a few days to think about things, to give us space in case... well, in case I had upset you... You were supposed to be told I was just on vacation for a few days... but it sounds like you were told something else... something to split us apart," you explained, looking down at Lucifer who was snuggled back into his old position in your lap. Lucifer nodded as he listened to your explanation. "I came back, and I waited for you to schedule... and you never did. I had no way to check in with you... and I didn't want to overstep in your life by expecting a real connection if I had just misread things, or going to the hotel to ask Charlie, especially because I wasn't supposed to tell anyone... I was just so confused."
Lucifer tightened his fists in his lap, what is it that he had told you that made you so scared? That would make you run but that had also apparently not hurt you. "I'm sorry I made you keep this a secret for so long, I didn't realize how much it was hurting you... both of us... I guess I just let my pride really get in the way, and that was stupid," Lucifer paused, "Whatever I told you that night... was it bad?" Lucifer asked looking up at you.
You took a deep breath, "It's ok, I understood why you wanted it to stay quiet, I never held that against you. And...no, not bad, but it did scare me. I didn't know what to think of it."
"Can... can you tell me what I said?" Lucifer asked with big worried eyes.
You thought for a moment, this was the part you were most scared of at this point. This is where everything could fall apart again. "Can you tell me your side of things first, before I do?"
Lucifer swallowed hard, not liking how you were dodging the question, but he nodded.
"Ok," Lucifer started, "I... was really nervous that day, for a while... I'd been wondering how much of your care was real versus an act. It hadn't felt like it had been fake for... well I mean it really had never felt fake. I remember... I wanted to ask you or tell you something related to that. I had talked to a friends about that earlier in the day..."
"Asmodeus?" you asked.
"Yes! Did I say something about him? About that conversation?" Lucifer asked.
"You said he started dating someone, but not to tell anyone. I never have," you replied.
'Wow, why was that the point I had brought up? I really was out of it,' he thought.
"Well, anyways, he encouraged me to talk to you, but I had a drink to calm myself down because I was so nervous, but one became two, became four became... way too many..." Lucifer continued sheepishly, "And then I couldn't remember the rest of the night, I woke up the next morning with a crazy hangover, trying to jog my memory, and then I got the call from the Lounge. They did tell me that you were on vacation... but then added that "the truth" was that you had put me on your ban list, that you had come back saying you "couldn't take this shit anymore" and that you were a good actor, that you were a heartbreaker, that you would "even break the King's heart if you had the chance".
You gasped and more tears welled up in your eyes, "Lucifer, it's not true! You have to believe me," you hugged Lucifer tightly in your lap, "That's not who I am, yes I can act, but I swear I haven't ever once lied to you!"
Lucifer held your face, "I know."
You stared down at him as tears rolled down your cheeks, "You do?"
He nodded, "I didn't in the moment, when the call happened, but the others did. Husk and Angel. The whole damn hotel sat me down to have an intervention to set me straight. I was still hesitant, but between your reaction now and them... I believe you. You do care about me, you always have."
"Yes, of course I care about you!" you say holding his face with one hand. Lucifer smiled and nuzzled his face into your hand.
"Lucifer, the person you talked to on the phone. Do you remember anything distinct about them? Their voice or the way they talked," you asked earnestly.
Lucifer thought, "I remember it was a feminine voice, very hissy ssssss sounds the entire time they talked."
You saw red, that was all the proof you needed.
"Cynthhhhia," you snarled. Lucifer's eyes widened, he had never seen you mad before.
"Who is Cynthia?" Lucifer asked, an edge in his voice.
"She is the biggest bitch at the Lounge, the girl I always talked about cutting down to size? That's her. She was on phone's that day as a punishment for hurting me the night I ran back to the Lounge," you seethed, "Larry must have stepped away and she must have a had enough time to slip you that lie..."
Lucifer sat up more in your lap, eyes turning red, "You think this Cynthhhhia bitch lied to get us apart? Why?"
"Yes... she always hated that I was getting paired with more "high rollers" as we would call them, well-off powerful people, she hated that I was more popular with customers than her... she must have taken the opportunity to sever our relationship to make me suffer..." you stopped as Lucifer got up from your lap stepping a few feet away from you breathing heavily with his hands balled into tight fists, "Lucifer?"
You watched as the air seemed to shake around him, his wings snapped out from his back and started to flap, his eyes burned with blind rage as this horns and tail erupted from his body, a flame appearing above his head, his claws growing large and sharp. Flame escaped from his mouth as with a demonic voice Lucifer bellowed, "HOW DARE THAT BITCH SEVER YOU FROM ME?! HER LIVE IS FOREFIT. I WILL GRIND HER BODY TO DUST. I WILL BEAT THE AFTERLIFE OUT OF HER. I WILL RIP HER APART WITH MY BARE HANDS AND FEED HER TO THE CANNIBALS. I FASHION HER FLESH INTO BOOTS. I WILL..."
You ran up and wrapped your arms around Lucifer's waist, the air stopped rumbling, his body started to relax, his flames dissipated, and he looked down at you with a softened eyes, still glowing.
"Lucifer please, I'm mad too... but please stay with me. She's not worth the energy! You can turn her into snake jerky boots tomorrow!" You say, clinging to him tightly, "I need you here now..."
Lucifer blinked back to his regular red eyes before letting himself drop back to the ground, wrapping his arms back around you, "I'm sorry, Duckie... I'm just so mad that one lie over a phone call caused so much pain for you and I..." he pulled away a little and cupped your face with one hand, "I just want to make her pay for what she has done to us."
"I do too," you say carding your fingers through his hair, "I'm sure the others would too, I'm looking at you readers, but... how about we ruin her day tomorrow. Ok? Let's not let her ruin this, she's not worth it."
Lucifer hummed into your touch and closed his eyes, allowing himself to revert back to his normal soft appearance, "Ok... on one condition," he said opening his eyes again to look into yours.
"What would that be?" you ask nervously.
"Tell me what it was that I told you. Please?" he asked with bright eyes.
You looked away briefly and then met his gaze again, you felt your face grow hot, "You sure? You're not going to get mad?"
Lucifer gave you a confused smile, "Why would I be mad at you for telling me something I said to you? Just... tell me." Lucifer still held you in a close embrace, looking into your eyes.
You breath deeply, and look down at Lucifer, "You... you told me that you loved me."
Both of your faces turned bright red as you starred at each other in tense silence.
'Are you shitting me? I told her I loved her while I was shit face plastered?! Fuck, ya... ok her reaction makes sense now' Lucifer thought.
"Oh... golly... haha... I can see why that might make you uncomfortable" Lucifer said looking away from you with a nervous laugh.
You look at Lucifer, noticing deep blush running across his pale cheeks, and smiled. You steeled yourself for the next question.
"Did you mean it?" you asked.
Lucifer looked up into your eyes, studying your face. This was the moment he had wanted so many weeks ago, this was how it was supposed to feel. Vulnerable, terrifying, but the only place he ever wanted to be. This was the moment that would change everything, but now, he knew she cared, this would not be the end of everything.
"Yes, (y/n), I love you. I've loved you for months."
You heart swelled with joy to hear him say it this time, and with him being sober and so nervous, all of your worries from the past didn't matter now. You couldn't keep your eyes from welling with tears of joy. You moved your hands up to Lucifer's face to hold his soft cheeks.
Lucifer sat in swirl of emotions as he watched you react to his statement, 'Does she... feel the same?'
"Well..." Lucifer got out, before freezing up, trying to figure out what to say.
You laughed, "I... I love you too, Lucifer."
Lucifer's eyes go wide, taking a moment to process your words, before he moves without thinking, pulling you in closer and pressing his lips against yours.
The kiss sent waves of electricity through both of your bodies. You had kissed a lot of people for work, but nothing had ever felt like this before. You felt gripped by a want to fuck Lucifer in a way you had never wanted to fuck someone before, you ached for him, you ached for only him. In that moment you were ruined for watching to touch another soul ever again. Your tongues explore each other's mouths, passionate and desperate, as if you both relied on the other to breath.
After a few minutes, you both break the kiss, pressing your foreheads together, breathing heavily.
"Fuck..." Lucifer heaved, "That was amazing... You are amazing."
You laugh, tracing a finger down Lucifer's chest, "Just wait til, I get me hands on the rest of you... If you want that... of course."
Lucifer's eye glazed over with pure lust as he looked you over, "Oh, Duckie... I have wanted nothing more than to rip your clothes off and take you to Heaven since the day I met you... but I don't want to be selfish and I feel like I would want to be. I want you to be mine, all mine, only mine," he purred into the skin of your neck. You tip your head back and let your eyes roll back with the pleasure of the sensory.
"Then you can, have me," you say. Lucifer gives you a look.
"I'm all yours, I'll quit the Lounge, move into the hotel like I wanted, and I will be only yours, if you'll have me," your eyes looked with Lucifer's.
He smiled, putting his forehead against yours, "I accept, you will be mine and I will be yours. Tomorrow, we will go down to Lounge, give them your 2 minute notice, and then... we make that little bitch Cynthhhhia rue the day she ever messed with us." Lucifer planted another long passionate kiss on your lips.
"But for now... I get the feeling that we may have some people downstairs that want to see the results of our conversation. What do you say?" Lucifer said, offering you his arm. You smile and take his arm, going out the door and making your way downstairs to the hoops and hollers of your hotel friends, especially when Lucifer kissed you again in front of all of them.
You spent the rest of the night partying and talking with the hotel crew until you grew tired. Then, Lucifer picked you up and took you up to his room in the hotel, where you and Lucifer fell asleep in either others arms again, the way you would every night from then on.
______________________________________________________________
The next morning, you wake up, tightly snuggled against Lucifer's chest, and you look up to see him unabashedly looking down with love filled eyed at you and running his fingers through your hair. He smiled warmly as your eyes met his.
"Good morning~" he cooed as he dipped his head down to kiss your lips. Your bodies moved closer to each other as you kissed, starting to get drunk off of the taste of the other. Your face and chest grew hot and red, until eventually Lucifer broke the kiss you hold your face, staring into each other's dilated eyes. Lucifer was pleased by the love drunk look on your face.
"You know, if I didn't know any better, I would take you as a pent up, untouched virgin instead of a seasoned sex worker with the way you're reacting to a simple kiss," Lucifer says smugly, taking in the deep red tone of your cheeks and the glazed look of your eyes.
"Well... I mean... I may have had plenty of physical intimacy... but it's always been for money, survival... this, however~" you says as you pull him in for another deep, desperate kiss, hand running down the side of his body before stopping on his thigh, releasing him from the kiss while keeping your lips as close to his as possible without touching. "This is something completely different entirely... unbridled desire like I've never felt in life or death... and I'm famished," you whisper.
Lucifer swallowed hard, blinking hard as his own face burned red and he felt himself get more dizzy and love drunk on your words. "Fuck... oh, Duckie... I want to do... so... many... sinful things to you. I have for months... but I do think we should prioritize taking care of your status at the Lounge... and that bitch... Because I don't know about you, but..." Lucifer rolls on top of you, pinning you to the bed, lowering his head to be next to your ear, "when I finally get to fuck you... I want you to be mine. Only... mine... Don't you agree, my Apple?" he planned a soft kiss on your neck.
You're breathing was ragged, your heart pounded in your chest, you had never been so turned on in your life. You couldn't even speak, all you could do was nod.
Lucifer looked down at you, committing the image of your body beneath him to memory before sighing, chuckling a little, giving you a kiss on both checks and then on the lips before getting off of your and getting up to start getting dressed.
You had to take a minute to let yourself breath for a minute before getting up. Lucifer smuggly looked at you over his shoulder as he buttoned up his vest, "You doing ok over their~?" he cooed.
"Shut up," you say playfully. 'Fuckkkkkk', you thought, how was this the same man that wanted to be dominated so desperately the first night you met? Should have known he was a bratty switch. He was really proving his status as the Sin of Pride with that smug ass attitude this morning, and goooooodddd was it hot.
Eventually you did get out of bed and got dressed for the day, Lucifer giving you a longing look as you did. Before long, it was time for you and Lucifer to head to the Lounge, together. Others from the hotel had learned about the reason for the miscommunication and lack of contact with you during the celebration the night before and many people wanted to come with to watch the confrontation unfold. So soon, you, Lucifer, Charlie, Angel, Cherri, Niffty, and even Alastor, much to Lucifer's dismay, were ready to make your way out to the Entertainment District. Husk and Vaggie also wanted to go, but someone needed to stay behind and man the hotel, so they just asked for a play by play of the events when everyone returned.
"Ready everyone?" Lucifer called out before tapping his cane on the ground, opening a portal right in front of the Lounge. Lucifer offered you his arm, which you took before stepping out of the portal onto the street in front of your place of work, followed by all of your friends. Immediately upon stepping out onto the street, onlookers started to look, whispers, point, and take pictures as they saw the King with you on his arm, followed by the Princess, a famous Porn Star, and the Radio Demon, with Niffty and Cherri tagging along.
Lucifer opened the door to the Lounge and walked in, striding up to the front counter with you on his arm. Larry turned around to greet the new customers just to find himself facing the King of Hell and company.
"Y-your highness, with (y/n), and the Princess, Angel, t-the Radio Demon, and... uhhh," Larry stopped looking down at Niffty.
"Hi! I'm Niffty!" Niffty gave a sharp smile while waving a knife in her hand. "And I'm Cherri Bomb," she added.
Larry blinked looking at Niffty before looking back up at Lucifer, "Right... uhh... Your Majesty," he bowed, realizing the should have done that the first time. "To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit? And with one of my girls," he said shooting you a quick 'What the hell is happening here?!' look.
"Haha, well! You must be Larry! Let me introduce myself to you my fine man. Hi," Lucifer says extending his hand to Larry, "I'm Lance", Lucifer said, darkening his eyes.
"Oh!" Larry said shaking his hand before the realization kicked in, "Oh..." he looked at you, then Lucifer, back to you, then back at Lucifer, "OOohhhhhhh...." Larry let go of Lucifer's hand, his body starting to shake a little.
Lucifer smirked and wrapped an arm around you, "We were wanting to talk to you able a... troubling customer service issue that miss (y/n) and I experienced a few weeks ago that interrupted my services with her... if you have the time that is..." Lucifer said with as smile in his face that did not reach his rage filled eyes.
Larry panicked, "Uh.. uhh yes! Of course! Uhhh... would you like to come back to my office or..."
"Oh, no, my good sir, out here is just fine," continuing his sharp smile, looking out at the sea of girls and customers watching the interaction with growing interest.
"O-Ok, ya sure," Larry clears his throat, "So, uhh... what seems to be the issue?"
"Well... you see... your associate here and I had not scheduled any appointments for the last few weeks due to a... concerning miscommunication issue. You see, while this one was out on her much deserved vacation, I was called and told that she was out for a few days... but then they corrected themself and told me I was banned from scheduling with her again... but that I was free to utilize the services of other girls," Lucifer said distain slowly slipping into his voice, his smile starting to strain.
Larry's expression changed from fear to frustration, "Oh... that is troubling, I can confirm that (y/n) did not express any desire to ban you, sir. I apologize... I had no idea that happened... You... wouldn't happen to know who it was that you talked to that day, would you?"
"I didn't catch a name, but it was someone with a feminine voice and elongated "S"s.... kinda... serpentine sounding. You... wouldn't happen to know of anyone on your staff that would fit that description... would you?" Lucifer said, his smile now fully flat with half opened, unenthused eyes.
Larry balled his hands into fits, "As a matter of fact, your highness... I do... I'll... be... right back..." Larry made his way to the back to find the girl that matched the description, the sea of people parting as he lumbered through.
Lucifer looked up at you and winked, "Showtime" he mouthed to you. You smiled back at him as you started to hear the familiar screams of Cynthhhhia as Larry dragged her up to the front lobby, tossing her on the floor in front of Lucifer and you.
"AAHHHHH!!! Larry what the fuck! I wasssss in the the middle of a sssssession! What's the big ide-" Cynthhhhia finally looked up to Lucifer and you standing in front of her, glaring down at her, with his arm around your waist at his side. "Ohhhhh! Y-your highness, itssssss and honor, w-wha-what is thisssss all about?" She tried to smile at him, here eyes darting to you and to the others watching around the room.
"Apparently, a few weeks ago, you had a little of a communication issue with Mr. Morningstar here, or should I say... Mr. Lance... Care to explain, Cynthhhhia?" Larry hissed through clenched teeth.
"Lance, wha-" Cynthhhhia finally remembered, she now looked at you, then Lucifer, back to you, then him. Then she looked back at Larry, then around the room, to Charlie and Angel, then back to Lucifer. In that moment, she didn't not understand how this happened, but she knew she was absolutely fucked.
"Well... I feel like you already know... but I'll just ssssay it. I lied, I lied to Lanc-Lucifer... about (y/n)'sssss vacation, I had no one around ssssso I told him he had been banned, he didn't ask any questionsssss and didn't try sssssscheduling another appointment... Ssssso I reported that I had called and that he would call back to ressssschedule... I thought I was in the clear..." Cynthhhhia said looking at the ground, then looked up again, "I guess there were sssssome factorsssss that I didn't not account for.."
"Ya! Like us!" Angel added.
"Like her developing friendships and bonds during her time with my dad that cared to ask why she was not around anymore, and we figured out that these two had two very different understandings of why they were not able to see the other," Charlie said with a triumphant smile, gesturing to her dad and you.
"Cynthhhhia, why would you do this?" Larry asked coldly.
Cynthhhhia hissed, "For the same reason as alwaysssss, I hated her sssssuccesssss! I saw a chanccccce and I took it. The real question issss, why did you all care sssssso much. She's is just a ssssstupid, ssssselfish, fake, whore!"
In an instant, Lucifer's demon form emerged, horns, wings, red eyes, tail and all, and he flicked his sharp tail to her neck, lifting her head to meet his gaze, "Because my dear, ssssssweet, idiot," he spat, "She is actually none of those things. She is the kindest, sweetest, warmest, most loving, and selfless woman I have ever met, and because of that... I fell in love with her."
The room gasped, including Cynthhhhia and Larry. "You're little stunt simply caused us to be apart before we could talk it out. Thanks to my daughter, we figured it out, we figured you out. So now... my question for both of you is... how do we rectify this.. little problem? This certainly caused myself and my love much grief over the last few weeks, and it sounds like this putrid snake was causing my dear problems long before that at this establishment... and I simply cannot let that stand," Lucifer said, starring daggers into Cynthhhhia's soul.
"Well uhhh... as far as I can control... Cynthhhhia is fired from my establishment and will be backlisted from every brothel and porn studio in the Pride Circle effect of immediately, she will be kicked out of housing with us, and I will turn a blind idea to anything that becomes of her outside of this establishment... Does that seem fair?" Larry asked. Cynthhhhia seethed on the ground.
Lucifer smiled, "A good start but not enough, there is more I will require, and I have a list of demands."
Larry shifted uncomfortably, "Of course your highness, what would those be?"
Lucifer looked at you and smiled, "I request the release of (y/n) from her work contract here, as well as her housing contract," Lucifer looked back at Larry, "She will not be needing to be here anymore now that she is with me."
Larry made a displeased face, and looked at you "Is this what you want Babydoll?"
You nodded, "It has nothing to do with you, Larry, you have been good to me..." you look to Lucifer and the others, "I just finally found where I belong... and I need to see where this goes."
Larry nodded, "Consider it done. I'll miss you, kid."
Lucifer nodded, "Well..." he clapped his hands, " I guess we are done here then! Duckie, I will have your stuff taken out of your old room and moved to the hotel. As for you," Lucifer said looking down at Cynthhhhia, who was on the floor trying to crawl away, but froze in place when addressed, "We are not quiet through with you." Lucifer wrapped his tail around her waist and pulled her along as he walk out the door, followed by the other hotel crew and some interested patrons and girls.
Cynthhhhia screamed as she was dragged and tossed out onto the street in front of Lucifer and the others.
Lucifer looked to you with a slight bow, gesturing towards Cynthhhhia, "My darling, would you like to do the honors?" he purred.
You shrugged, "I don't really wanna touch her, but I'll start her off," you say stretching your arms as you walked towards her.
Cynthhhhia cowered and pleaded with you, you wound up your arm and slugged Cynthhhhia in the face, sending her flying back several feet. You were met with a crowd of cheers and yelps, Lucifer nodded approvingly at your punch. Lucifer next rolled up his sleeves and pummeled her into the ground a few dozen times before getting up staying he had enough. Cynthhhhia was still conscious, but barely.
Lucifer then offered the chance up to the rest of the crew. Niffty ran up and gave her a few quick stabs, then to your surprise, Alastor stepped forward with a sinister grin on his face. You and Lucifer gave each other a confused look, then looked back at him.
"Now Cynthhhhia, darling, as much as I enjoyed seeing how much torment your little stunt caused, I do say I that I am not very fond of how it impacted the overall morale of the hotel, and I simply cannot have that," Alastor said as his horns and body started to grow larger and more sinister, his face turning more into the radio face you had seen it become before in battle. "I'm sorry, my dear, but I'm going to need to make an example out of you, to show everyone what happened when you mess with the Hazbin Hotel and it's residents. And besides! ...my radio broadcast has been in need of some new screams!" Alastor laughed maniacally before engulfing Cynthhhhia in his mystical black tentacles and carried her off to be ripped apart and have her screams added to his collect on his broadcast.
You and the other's starred off after Alastor in horror as he took of with Cynthhhhia. "Wow..." you said, "That uhhh... that was not the ending to her I expected. But I'll take it!" You smiled looking at Lucifer who smiled and rolled his eyes. He then grabbed your waist, pulling you into a dip and kissed you deeply for all of Hell to see.
"Come on," he said breaking from the kiss, "Lets get you home."
Home.
You liked the sound of that.
______________________________________________________________
One last chapter I think! And IT.WILL.HAVE.SMUT. xoxo, dany As usual, leave a comment if you want added to the taglist so that you can get notifications when future chapters drop! xoxo, dany (OMG there are so many of you!😍 Please let me know if the tag isn't working for you) Taglist :(red names are not tagging for some reason 😢) @froggybich @wonderlandangelsposts @glowinthedarkbones1150 @marydragneell @crescent-z @superdinosaurnacho @jam0001 @kyo-kyo1 @so-get-this-sammy @lilzebeth @kelppsstuff @loquacious-libra @pinkhoneydrop @luleck @writer-girl99 @lavenz @stormz369 @littleladydemon @soujiswife @melday0105 @luluxx118 @sseleniaa @futureittomainn @cktkat @zaneyyyy @uravitsy @liecoris @starlitvenus @hannahrose130 @elleofdragons @butch-medusae @concentratedconcrete @erosamasan @stranger-chan @aquaamethyst96 @lxkeee @holyspacething @hulyenl @leximus98 @lu-ferri12 @mixplara @katnisspeetaprim @rebecca-hvnstn @roboticsuccubus83 @nekemewlita @femboyfatalle @thelethex @cryptidghostgirl @snowlotr @bangchansdirty-slut @glowymxxn @mcueveryday @hotvillianapologist @oneiric-rotaerc @wolfdaddyalphasworld @sleepypottersworld @wisterialagoon @theredviolets @theperfectmangovoid @lemonmoonmochi @sapphireravensworld @ezi0724 @undertalephanjackandmark-blog
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islandofsages · 4 months
Note
Hey ! I wanted to request a Ignihyde!Male!Reader that look like a little like Grim ? Like, they have the same ears and tail, the same fire (even if the reader controls his fire better than Grim) and people think they are from the same family/are connect ?
Just Grim and Reader looking at each other and asking to themselves if they have just meet their secret brother, and Ace, Deuce, Ortho, Idia and parental figure!Trein being confused to their friend (Grim for Adeuce, Reader for Ortho and Idia) having (a possible) brother.
(Ignore it if you don't want to write it)
Have a good day.
characters: ace, deuce, the shroud brothers and trein x male ignihyde reader
tags: platonic, fluff, imagines + scenario format; implication of yuu, mention of azul
warnings: nothing
author's notes: sorry this took a while! and that i strayed a bit again help. hope you like this <3
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You’re one of the only beastmen in Ignihyde - and you’re okay with that. It gets a little lonely at times but that’s nothing new for an Ignihyde student. People mind their own business, you mind yours. And the only friends you have, in this case the Shroud brothers, basically forget that you’re different from the others. Days are hardly interesting, despite the college’s many atrocities - or maybe because, and now you’re desensitized.
Until one day, you spot a creature, all feline-like and sitting on someone’s shoulder. Okay, not the weirdest thing you’ve seen at NRC so far, so you’re about to shrug it off. Then you see it; a tail and a pair of ears that are eerily similar to your own. What’s next, it can manipulate fire as freely as you do?
“Hey guys, I’ve got a new trick up my sleeve. Watch this!”
One thing you didn’t expect for it to have something in common with you is that it can talk. Though maybe you should be less surprised, considering even the paintings on the walls can talk in this place. But still. You forget that you should be expecting something from the words it just spouted and are caught off guard when it starts spewing fire next. This creature is way too talented at throwing out stuff from its mouth, you think as you jump out of the way just in time to avoid being burnt to a crisp.
“Grim, you can’t just spit fire whenever you want to! We’ve been over this!”
A redheaded student in front of you starts to scold the creature whose name is Grim apparently. He looks familiar but you can’t quite put your finger on it-
“You’re just jealous, Ace.”
Oh, you feel like Idia’s talked about this Ace person before. He described him as “crafty” and seemed to think of him as some sneaky extrovert but you’ve learnt to not put much faith in Idia’s descriptions of other people. No offense to your friend but at least he’s somewhat self-aware of how anxious he gets around others.
“I definitely am not??? This is the same thing that almost got us expelled, you know!”
You feel like you may also have heard of a group of first years almost getting expelled until they somehow got their hands on a magestone the headmage told them to get, as if you can just swing by a store and buy one. You know how hopeless Headmage Crowley and dumping a lot of work on a bunch of freshmen is in character but you can't help but feel disappointed anyway.
“I can’t believe I’m saying this but I agree. You really have to learn how to keep your pride in check…”
Another student, blue-haired and you assume is Ace’s friend, chimes in on the scolding. The student whose shoulder Grim has made himself at home only shook their head, most likely accustomed to his behavior. You watch them bicker as you ruminate on the resemblance of that strange creature to you.
After a few minutes of thinking (and walking so that you don't lose them), you decide that the fact that you were almost a victim of Grim’s flames is strong enough of an excuse to allow you to approach the friend group.
“Hey. You four.”
They turn around to notice you finally (though you can hardly blame them – save for Idia and his glow-in-the-dark-esque hair, Ignihyde students are not noticed as much). It takes them a second to realize that you're no ordinary student. When they do, their jaws fall open, letting out a wild “Huh?!”.
Grim himself jumps off the quiet student's shoulder and stands on his two feet. The day is getting crazier and crazier the longer you entertain this coincidence. He then points at you and begins his bullshit-spewing again.
“W-Who are you?! And why do you look like me?!”
You should be asking the same questions right now but the lack of answers for them makes any word on the tip of your tongue die before they can escape. Plus, the way he's saying his words sound more accusatory than you’d like to admit.
“Don’t look at me! I'm just like this!”
Grim doesn't seem satisfied by your answer and honestly, you can't blame him. You both are quite confused by what's happening at the moment. You two resort to unconsciously recreating the two-Spidermen-pointing-at-each-other meme. The other three students also seem to be at a loss from what they're witnessing.
Ace Trappola
He would laugh at Grim and point out how he's not special anymore but he's too stunned to even say anything (at least for now)
He looks you up and down again then pinches himself to make sure he’s not hallucinating
He feels like he should be less surprised and that the uncanny resemblance could just be passed off as a coincidence but he has to admit, seeing you two as not brothers may prove to be a little difficult for him
He gets used to you two over time and stops questioning it altogether. Sometimes he even forgets
At times, he’d poke fun at Grim and say how you two are way too different personality-wise to even be correlated in some way
But deep down, he’s happy for Grim he found someone similar to him 
He won’t say that aloud obviously.
Deuce Spade
His eyes dart from you to Grim then you again. This goes on for a minute
He almost asks you if you can also breathe fire so recklessly
He ends up interrogating you, like a parent doing a background check on the friend you just brought home
Sooner or later, he concludes that you two are “bros”, despite not having the same feline characteristics
He’s glad Grim found his long-lost brother (he gets a smack from Grim for this)
He would notice how Grim’s smiles oftentimes are wider when you’re around, probably feeling some kind of kinship with you
And he gets that - since you all are “bros” now, he’s more than willing to have your backs now
After sorting things out with the freshmen, you return to your cave like the nerd that you are, feeling more exhausted than usual. To your surprise, you also return to two nerds being in said cave. A Shroud brothers ambush is not something that happens too often.
“Hey (Y/N). We decided that your place needs trashing. Also Ortho wants to try out this new game he found but it needs at least three players.”
Sounds about right. The geeks are geeking out as usual, just at your place this time. But you need them to hear about how crazy today was. You open your mouth to say something-
“I tried to convince him to get Azul but you know how stubborn my brother is.”
Ortho cuts you off and you force a nervous chuckle as a response. You agree but you should really get this off your chest-
“Hm? Did you guys hear something~?”
Idia teases and it brings a genuine laugh out of you and Ortho. Then you take a deep breath and release it. Third time’s the charm, right? You try again.
“Listen, you two. You wouldn’t believe what happened today.”
They perk right up at the promise of gossip (specifically, gossip related to you). You jump a bit from the excitement, finally glad you got their attention. Your hands start to gesture while you tell today’s story.
“I found this… cat. His name is Grim? He has the exact same ears and tail that I do! And he can breathe fire too! Except he does it with no regards to his surroundings whatsoever. That’s kinda concerning.”
Idia Shroud
“You saw wittle Gwimmy??? Man, I’m so jealous… I’ve been in need of some cat therapy for a while now…”
By the sound of it, he already knows who he is. You gasp dramatically at this, feeling betrayed at the fact he never told you about him
He tells you to chill and simply excuse that he didn’t think it was that important or anything
Of course, at first he was shocked but then he pondered about the coincidence - concluded that weirder things have happened and can happen
You’re unamused by this but it is very Idia. You suppose if you have a curse where it burns blot in your body nothing can really be seen as weird
Still, he entertains the possibility of you having a non-human distant cousin
If he isn’t already so nerdy, it feels like he’s growing a second brain trying to theorize what your relation to Grim is…
Ortho Shroud
Also already knows who he is. This truly is a Shroud brothers ambush… of betrayal at that
Theatrics aside, you try to pry him for further information and maybe explain how you and Grim may be related
“Sorry (Y/N), I’d love to help but Grim has been avoiding both of us for a while now. Whether that’s intentional or not, I’m not sure, but I sure wish I was with you when you ran into him. I’m sure I could’ve gotten some valuable information from him!”
You have your doubts about that.
While you keep things to yourself, Ortho provides you with Grim’s surface level information - which is basically nothing
So you two vow to get closer to Grim; even with the ulterior motive, it doesn’t hurt to have more friends Idia would beg to differ
Grim-like traits aside, it’ll be eye-opening to him to see if you two are similar in any regard at all - whether it be from your healing presence to your dazzling smile.
The next morning, you walk to your first class of the day: History of Magic. A fairly interesting class regardless of your stance on the subject. Professor Trein goes on and on about something, you write things down in your notebook. Your eyes are on Lucius for half of the class too. Your mind is still stuck on the events of yesterday. You feel like you’d be reminded of Grim any time you lay your eyes on anything feline - including yourself.
At last, class is dismissed. As much as you enjoy the class and genuinely like Professor Trein, you can’t help but feel that classes are dragged out way too much in this college. You pack up your things and you leave around the same time the professor does. So when Grim comes running and tackles you to the hallway floor, he’s there to witness it all.
“Hey twin! Wanna have lunch with us later? You’ll be seating with us cool kids!”
As you try to regain your composure over being literally knocked over and the fact that Grim has already warmed up to you, Professor Trein attempts to comprehend the scene unfolding before him.
Mozus Trein
Yes, of course he needs to scold Grim over misbehaving for the umpteenth time that week, but he’s also in awe of how… similar you and Grim look.
If he’s seen either of you before, whether in vicinity of each other or not, he’s never noticed blame it on the old grandpa eyes
People (and creatures now too, accounting for Grim’s being here) of your traits and abilities are far and few between
As much as he’d like to inquire you two on your ancestries (and their possible connection), he does respect your privacy
He always liked having you in his class but now, he finds himself looking out for you more often, a way to put his energy from his curiosity about you into something else
He’d ask you about your day and jokingly ask how your relationship with your long-lost brother is doing as if he’s not acting like a dad himself
Needless to say, he’s definitely your favorite teacher now.
You accept Grim’s offer for whatever reason and have lunch with the “cool kids”. You feel a little out of place at first, hanging out with people who aren’t the Shrouds, but then you start having lunch with them every other day. Then you start visiting Ramshackle Dorm where Grim is staying and spend time with the others there. At some point, you brought the Shrouds along and they would bring their games.
Suddenly, you know a lot of people. You think to yourself how crazy friendships start. You go from not knowing their name to knowing what they named their pet rock when they were a child. And in Grim’s case, you went from pointing at each other confusingly to pointing at each other for stealing each other’s food.
For the record, he definitely stole your pudding first.
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mrswint3rs · 4 months
Note
I can't write well but just an idea that I find hot. Totally didn't imagen that.
After the end of RE5. He survived barely. Injured pretty badly but recovering.
Reader taking such good care of him. Since he can't properly do it himself.
Maybe reader could help him relax ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
~horny for Wesker anon
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In a Time of Need
a/n- im in love with this idea oml ty anon.
pairings- Albert Wesker x Gn! reader
NSFW WARNING:
contains- oral sex (m!receiving), handjob, edging, Wesker refers to himself as ‘master’ once, riding Wesker while he’s immobile (consensually), praise/degrading, and use of pet names as always 𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
In his weaker state, Wesker is now a shadow of his former self. He's a broken man who has lost everything. He relies on you to take care of him, to feed him, and to keep him comfortable. You're the one who keeps him alive and protects him. You're the one who has the power to make his life better or worse. You have him entirely in your hands.
It used to be the other way around.
He's been reduced to a mere specimen and can't even protest that. He's completely silent, with the only sound being the heavy pumping of his heart. There's a feeling of hopelessness and self-pity surrounding him.
He won’t admit it, but he’s grateful for your presence. Despite how rough he treated you before, and how often he belittled you. You stuck by his side. Even more so when he was as pathetic like this You never seemed to think any less of him.
No matter the failure or wrongdoings, you held Wesker in high regard. You looked up to him as a superior being.
Even now, as you have to be the one to nurse him. Constantly tending to his slow healing wounds and practically spoon feeding him.
Wesker was never one to accept weakness and having to rely on someone else for basic things like eating and sleeping is infuriating for him. He doesn't understand how this has happened and doesn't want to admit that he is weak and vulnerable. He still has his pride and isn't ready to accept the fact that he needs someone to take care of him. He struggles against it every chance he gets, but deep down he understands he has no other options but to comply.
Daily, you have to tend to his bandages and open cuts to prevent further problems like infection.
Cleaning Wesker's wounds is no easy task. They are deep and painful and he doesn't like you touching or inspecting them. He's in so much pain, it's hard for him to even breathe. He clenches his jaw and squeezes his eyes shut, but not enough to hide the pain he's in. He curses softly each time you touch him, his wounds raw and red, but slowly healing under the care and attention of your hands.
“Sorry…” You offer a timid apology as you carefully change the gauze, a slight tremble in your hands betraying your concern that you may inadvertently cause discomfort to him.
"It didn't hurt that much." Wesker peers down at you with a mixture of frustration and sadness in his eyes. "Just finish up quickly."
You finish cleaning the wound and apply a fresh bandage to it. Wesker stays silent and stoic as you work, but you know he's in pain and only tolerating this. He's still glaring at you and even if you're doing your best to avoid hurting him, your final touches are making him flinch a little.
"Are you finished?" he grumbles under his breath. You can tell he's trying not to make a fuss, but he clearly wants to be done with this.
You give a reassuring nod in response as you tape up the loose ends. “Are you hungry still?” you ask cautiously. “Need anything before bed?”
"No." he says firmly, not willing to show any neediness or rely on you for anything else.
Part of him did want to be alone, but being around you made him feel slightly better.
Maybe because of your constant need to dote on him. He may have changed but you didn’t. In a sense, you were still basically his lap dog. It fed into that unquenchable thirst for control that he had. You did everything in your power to please him without a second thought.
You could see clear as day how much he was suffering. More than just external wounds inflicted pain.
The poor man was cooped up in bed, unable to accomplish any of the ideals he had thoroughly planned and tried for. Of course you could tell he was stressed. Anyone would be. For Wesker, that stress was eating him alive. He could hardly face you, utterly embarrassed at the state he was forced into. It wasn’t supposed to turn out this way. He wasn’t supposed to sink so low.
But, you knew exactly what was needed to boost him back up, at least somewhat close to his norm.
As you finish cleaning up, you decide to let your hand roam. Avoiding the injured areas of skin, you delicately slide your hand between his leg. Your soft palm trails the inside of his thighs and his tired eyes flicker to you in surprise. “I don’t want another useless massage.” he cuts in.
“I was thinking of doing a little bit more than that for you today.” you counter in a question like statement. “I think certain areas may be feeling neglected lately.”
Wesker picks up on the innuendo, his mood shifting immediately as you state your suggestion.
“Oh?” his thin lips start to curve into that all knowing grin. “Well then, be my guest.”
He certainly wasn’t going to deny you. The man hadn’t been touched for way longer than he anticipated. He was far too busy for things like this.
He almost forgot how good it could feel.
As your hand glides over his hardening length through the tight fabric of his pants, he jerks on impulse, letting out a throaty groan. He was way more sensitive than you anticipated, but you weren’t complaining.
You slowly stroke him through the material and its enough to send him into shock. The heat pools between his legs at the contact of your hands, the discomfort of his injuries fade into nothing.
To your convenience, he lifts as best he can, letting you strip him of his coverings. His cock stands tall and proud, the vein leading from tip to base steadily twitching.
He watches your every move as you spit into the center of your hand.
His eyes snap shut as you then use it to pump your hand, caressing the whole length, soft and breathy moans pour from his lips at his sensitivity.
“Fuck…just like that. Don’t you dare stop.” he barks out an order, yet he can’t sound as stern with you as usual. Not when you ball your palm over the tip, twisting and squeezing your way around.
He can hardly sit still, as much as he tries.
When your mouth comes into play, kissing softly down his happy trail. Your lip’s envelop him into your warm welcoming hole, his hand entangles in your hair.
The way you flick your tongue as you go is enough to kill him.
His whole body tenses. You take him all the way into your throat without cause for concern, slobbering all sloppy all over the base of his cock as you hold it there.
Wesker feels himself about to cum already. But so do you. So you part ways as fast as you can as you feel that pulsing, leaving him unfinished.
Or so he thought that’s what you were doing until you began to pull your own pants down.
His hands remove themselves from your locks, resting at his side as he waits for whatever it is you were planning. His eyes, half slit, watch your every step, looking you up and down as you strip for him. He tried his best to be patient, but he needed that release. More than anything.
“Come here,” he commands firmly, the frustration evident in his tone. “Now.” You would never deny him, not that you planned on it.
You straddle him, careful not to do any harm.
Sitting now on his lap, you position his hardness between the plush of your thighs. Your hands start to stroke him again, but the rough grip of your wrist forces you to a halt. “Ride.” he orders, leaving no room for leniency. He wanted it. Now.
The look in his eyes was almost pleading, but he’d never been the type to beg. He would have his way no matter the cost.
You position so your thighs rest on either side of his. He was wet enough from the saliva of your mouth, slipping into your tight hole with ease. He grits his teeth, grunting slightly as you slowly sink down on him.
The head of his cock reaches your untouched depths, making you squeeze tighter against him. “Such a good little toy for me,” he groans, hands gripping your hips. “Please your master. Don’t make me tell you again. Ride.”
You press your hands to his midriff to steady your balance. Slowly you slide back up, almost pulling him out. You were sucking him in too tightly to let go, even if you tried.
Either way, Wesker forces you back down with what little strength he had. “Faster.” he shouts, and you don’t hesitate.
You bounce on his cock, walls suffocatingly massaging his length inside. His head lulls back as things pick up pace, hands tightening their hold on you.
His hips move along with yours, the best they can. He was desperately chasing his high. After you stopped him mid release prior, he was feeling extra needy. He refused to allow that to happen more than once.
He slams into you at an ungodly pace, you can hardly keep your eyes open. He splits you open on his cock with no regard for your pleasure, only focused on his own.
You were the one who offered to be used, after all.
“You’re going to take every drop of my precious seed. Do you understand?” he growls almost incoherent, lost in the pleasure.
You plead yes, that you understand.
“Say it aloud. Tell me what you are to me.”
You try to gather your thoughts. He didn’t cease his assault, shaking you with every rough thrust. “Y-your cum slut..” you mewl out, hoping your decided answer was satisfactory enough.
“hnng- yes,” he moans out deeply. “My good little slut. I’m going to fill you up and you’re just going to let me.”
He bullies into you rapidly, forcing out your cries as he milks himself in your insides.
He doesn’t slow as he cums in spurts, coating your walls with his white fluids. He continues to stuff it deeper into you as he goes, draining everything he has into you.
It pools out on top of him, leaking messily onto the bed.
Wesker relaxes his hold, no longer feeling so tense and worked up. He collapses back onto the bed, a sweaty panting mess, leaving you to sit and warm his cock.
“You’re going to give yourself to me everytime i request, from now on.”
Much to your surprise, Wesker pulls you down against him, chest to chest. He was never once affectionate towards you before. But now here he is, face burrowed in the crook of your neck.
His hands comfortingly play with your hair, lightly scratching at your scalp.
You melt into him, completely basking in the aftermath and enjoying his rare, gentle touch.
“You’re sleeping here tonight,” he states matter of factly. “You did quite well for me. I think you’re deserving of some extra attention.”
mlist
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tasteleeknow · 1 year
Text
HONEY
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PAIRING: minho + seungmin x fem!reader GENRE: smut. fluff. threesome/poly. CONTENT: 18+ minors dni. WORD COUNT: 3k
SUMMARY: You finally get to spend a lazy day in bed with your boyfriends. Playful bickering. Smut with feelings. The usual.
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do not repost to other sites, including translations.
You’re used to waking up alone, especially recently. You’re lucky to get any time together at all. Seungmin works nights, Minho during the day. Your schedule is all over the place. It’s why you’re a little confused when you wake strewn half across a warm body, your check pressed to bare skin. Minho usually crept out before you’d woken, making time for a gym session before he started his day. Seungmin would crawl into bed just as you were starting your day. So who were you sleeping on?
“Morning,” Seungmin says as you blink awake, answering your question for you. You don’t bother pondering how he’d sensed you were awake. “I finished early,” he says, answering your next question before you can ask it. You can’t remember the last time he’d finished early enough to crawl into bed before you woke. 
He takes a deep breath as you lay your head back down against his chest, the steady rise and fall liting you with it. 
When you wake again it's to the sound of a solid knock at the bedroom door. You wake a second before Seungmin, rolling off him just as he sucks in a deep breath as he’s startled from his dreams. Minho. He was either very late for work or he’d taken the day off. You’re just about to pull yourself up from the bed when an arm wraps around your waist, tugging you back down into the warmth of your nest.
“Where you going?” Seungmin mumbles, nuzzling into your hair like he can’t hear the now insistent pounding at the door. 
“Let me in!” Minho calls. 
“He won’t let me!” you call back. 
Minho falls silent, a small thud the only response. You imagine him dropping his forehead against the door. Perhaps grumbling under his breath for good measure. 
“Aren’t I enough for you?” Seungmin says, holding you tight to his bare chest. “Hm? Leave him. He had you last night.” 
You’re used to it, the playful bickering. They remind you of the pets you’d had as a child, your elderly cat who’d smack your dog on the nose (always with his claws retracted) and the dog who would shove the much smaller cat away with his snout. It was only at night, when both had worn themselves out fully, that they’d curl up around each other in the same bed, kicking each other occasionally as they dreamed. 
“Honey?” Minho calls again, tone sugary sweet. “Let me in, hm?” 
“I want to,” you whine, squirming in your boyfriend's hold. 
“Convince me,” Seungmin says, lips brushing behind your ear. You can hear the amusement in his voice, the joy in having you both in the palm of his hand. You twist, feeling him loosen his grip just enough that you manage to face him. He looks tired, not having slept enough to recover from his overnight shift. You soften a little at the thought of it, of him being playful despite his exhaustion. 
“You can have me first,” you whisper before brushing your lips against his, failing to suppress your small smile. “If you want,” you add. 
He smiles back, dropping one more gentle press of his lips to yours. Then you’re released. 
When you pull the door open Minho practically tumbles inside. He’s still wet from his post gym shower, his towel wrapped around his hips and long hair dripping onto his bare shoulders. He steadies you as he stumbles into you before lifting you slightly so he can make his way around you and towards his target. You’re hopeless to stop him as he collapses over Seungmin, pressing your less muscular boyfriend into the mattress. Seungmin could fight him off, maybe. But he doesn’t. Instead your exhausted boyfriend simply groans loudly and waits for it to end. 
“You have today off?” you ask, prompting Minho to roll over and make space for you between them. 
“Mm,” he confirms as you crawl up the mattress. You watch as he drops his wet hair onto the pillow. 
The thought of rolling over onto a damp pillow makes your skin crawl. You slap his arm, hardly enough to make an audible sound. Still, it's enough. Minho scrunches up his face, groaning dramatically as he rolls onto his side as if he’s suffered a mortal wound. 
“Don’t put your wet hair on the pillow,” you say, ignoring the dramatics. 
“It’s barely damp,” he replies as he positions himself up on his elbows. 
“It’s wet.” 
He says nothing, eyeing you down until Seungmin tugs you back into his arms. You’re positioned perfectly for Minho to maintain his pointed stare as he whips the towel from around his hips and lays it over the pillow before flopping back down. You don’t much like the idea of his damp towel on the pillow either. His side of the bed, you decide as Seungmin presses his body firmly into your back. 
“I’ll wash the sheets later,” Minho mumbles, like he can hear your thoughts. They both had a habit of doing that. 
It’s quiet after that, quiet enough for you to take in the soft, steady sounds of their breathing. It’d been so long since you’d shared the bed together, since you’d all had nowhere to be but here. It’s nice. Your eyes are just slipping shut when a soft kiss is pressed to your neck. You hum, wrapping your fingers around Seungmin’s wrist and pulling his hand up to your lips. 
“Me first,” he whispers, reminding you of your agreement. He liked to go first, on the rare occasion that you had them both together. He liked working you up. The build up was his favourite part. Almost. Minho lies on his back, breathing steady and seemingly asleep as Seungmin peppers kisses to your neck. “Have any dreams?” he whispers between pecks of his lips. 
“No good ones.” 
His fingers move to cup your jaw so he can gently turn your head. It allows him to place one of his soft kisses directly to your lips, a silent attempt to console you, to remind you he’s here—he’s got you. It's clear it’s going to be gentle this time, soft and lazy. Loving. It was much like the way he’d sensed you were awake. He was aware of you. He knew what you needed. 
His fingers slip from your jaw, tracing a path down your nightgown to your hip. It’s slow, fingers light against satin. Then he’s bunching the fabric up, tugging it up over your ass and gathering it just above the hem of your underwear. He sucks a little at your neck as his fingers fiddle with the elastic, snapping it against your skin a little. 
Minho makes a small sound in his sleep, almost a decipherable mumble. Seungmin’s' fingers halt their exploration. “How does he fall asleep so fast?” he whispers. “He’s dreaming.” 
He often made sounds in his sleep, indecipherable mumbles and moans. Minho had slept at least eight hours already, having escaped early this morning for a gym session. Seungmin was the one who should be passing out. His overnight shifts were nightmarish. 
Seungmin grabs your wrist as you attempt to reach out to stir your sleeping boyfriend. “Don’t wake him yet,” he whispers. “Not like this. It’ll be more fun… another way.” 
“Another way?” 
He hums, pressing his lips to your inner wrist before releasing your arm. “Another way,” he confirms. Minho makes another small sound, more like a whimper than a mumble this time. 
“I think he’s having a nightmare,” you whisper, watching the way your slumbering boyfriend’s lips twitch. 
Seungmin leans over your shoulder, quiet for a moment as he listens for Minho’s small whimpers. Then he sighs, “Can you both have nice dreams, hm? Please. Enough nightmares.” He finishes with a kiss to your shoulder. “Wake him,” he encourages. 
You don’t hesitate, reaching across to drape your arm across Minho’s chest. Your lips brush the still slightly damp skin behind his ear as you coax him awake. It doesn’t take much, a gentle call of his name and a squeeze of his bicep. Seungmin presses up behind you as Minho stirs. “Our girl was worried about you,” he says as Minho blinks awake. 
You elbow the man behind you. “We,” you correct. “We were worried. It looked like you were having a bad dream.” 
One corner of Minho’s mouth curves up before you're jostled by his stretching, arms above his head and all. Then you’re surrounded, face to face with your newly awake boyfriend. He smiles again. “You saved me,” he says simply. 
“Was it really bad?” 
Seungmin’s hand slips back down to your hip, resuming his fiddling with the elastic in your underwear as Minho blinks back at you. “Bad?” he says. “Nah. You woke me before it had a chance.” Then he’s looking over your shoulder. “You being greedy?” he accuses Seungmin, a hint of amusement still clear in the curve of his lips. 
“She said I could go first,” he mumbles in response, preoccupied with his exploration beneath your nightgown. 
Minho looks to you for confirmation. You smile innocently. He groans, rolling onto his back and folding his hands behind his head. Dramatics. 
“You shouldn’t have left her,” Seungmin says as his fingers finally breach the hem of your underwear, slipping down to gently brush over your centre. “Left her here all alone. She might’ve let you go first.” 
You’d had fun learning the differences between their approaches. While both were gentle, Minho liked holding you firm, self assured and without hesitation. Seungmin’s fingers were always delicate, almost ghosting over you until you were grinding into his hand in desperation. 
“You were in the shower,” Minho says, rolling onto his side again to watch your face as you resist the temptation to start moving your hips. “She wasn’t alone.” 
It’s not a small feat, keeping your hips still as his long fingers stroke through your folds far too softly. You know he likes it, the way your chest rises and falls with your increasingly shaky breathing. This was why he wanted to go first. “I feel you, baby,” he says as he presses a little harder, enough to massage some of your wetness up to your clit. “Feel how you want me.” 
Minho’s fingers on your chin come at exactly the right moment, just as you’re about to give in and take what you need. He lifts your eyes to his. “Are you comfortable?” he asks. “Warm?” 
There’s an answer at the tip of your tongue, it should be easy to respond. It isn’t. You’re too focused on the desperate need to roll your hips back into your boyfriend, the one with his fingers between your legs. Seungmin makes the decision for you, slipping his hand away long enough to practically lift you onto Minho’s torso. Your head drops into his shoulder, the satin of your bunched up nightgown the only separation between your chests. 
“Good?” Minho asks, his steady breaths lifting you slightly with each inhale. 
You manage a small hum in return just before Seungmin situates himself behind you. You have an outlet this time, a firm grasp in Minho’s hair as the teasing resumes. You know how long he can make this stretch on, how long he can occupy himself with toying with you. His warm breath ghosts over you occasionally after he readjusts himself on the mattress, making himself comfortable between your legs. 
“Enough,” you eventually gasp with a tug to Minho’s hair. 
“I agree,” the man under you says, wrapping his fingers around your wrist in an attempt to detach you. “Enough.” 
You can hear Seungmin’s smirk when he speaks next, “Enough? You wanna start the day? Have a shower? I can make breakfast.” 
You groan a little into Minho’s neck, wordlessly begging him to deal with the man refusing to fuck you. His arm wraps around your waist, pressing you a little more into his chest. “Seungmin,” he says, a clear threat in his tone. 
The man behind you chuckles. “Mm, I got it.” Then the bed dips, giving you a moment to prepare as he adjusts himself behind you. Minho’s fingers dig into your waist as you’re filled, as if he can feel it too: the stretch. Full, full, full. You’re tugged down a little as Seungmin takes hold of your hips, giving him the leverage he needs to take you slow and deep. The warmth of Minho’s torso seeps through the satin as it slides beneath you. You’re glad for it, the way it offers you a frictionless barrier between skin as one boyfriend fucks you into the other. 
You’re faintly aware of someone playing with your hair at some point. It’s hard to be sure. You’re consumed. 
“Baby?” Seungmin questions after a while, a little breathless. “Okay?” His fingers press into your hips as he stills. 
Minho drops a kiss to the top of your head. 
“Okay,” you breathe. It’s all you can manage. In reality ‘okay’ barely covered it. You’d tuck this memory away, treasure the rare opportunity to have them both like this. 
Minho starts speaking as Seungmin begins moving again, lazily shoving you up and down against the man beneath you. “Can you feel me?” he says, lifting his hips slightly off the bed. His cock brushes your inner thigh each time Seungmin pulls you down. “Should I fuck you just like this?” he continues. “Do you need a break… or can I fill you as soon as he’s done, hm?” 
You bite into his shoulder. It seems enough of a response. Minho hisses, squeezing you against his torso and preventing Seungmin from pulling you down onto his cock. You know what you’ve started before Seungmin opens his mouth. “Let her go,” he grumbles. 
“She bit me,” Minho responds. 
“Let her go,” Seungmin repeats, voice strained.
Minho is silent, his arms remaining tight around you. You imagine them staring each other down, unable to hold back your muffled giggle at the image. “Let her go or I will bite you,” Seungmin threatens. 
“No you won’t.”
Seungmin falls over you, his breath tickling the skin behind your ear. “Tell him to let go,” he instructs with a kiss to your neck. When he retreats you lift your head so you can cradle Minho’s cheeks in your hands. They had a way of making you obedient. It was unlike you. You were only this way with them. Seungmin took advantage of it the most. 
“Min,” you start. “Don’t you want your turn?” He blinks. “The longer you play around the longer it’ll be before I can feel you. I wanna feel you so badly, please let go.” 
He smacks his lips together, glances over your shoulder, and then drops his arms from around you. Easy. You’re quick to press little kisses to the spot you’d bitten, a silent apology as Seungmin takes his place behind you. “Good girl,” he says as he traces your entrance with the tip of his cock. It’s hard not to bite into Minho’s shoulder again when Seungmin finally presses inside again, settling for nuzzling into his neck instead. 
It feels right, being between them like this. They so often kept their distance from each other, both a little awkward about physical affection. You liked to think of yourself as a thick layer of honey, sticking them together and sweetening them up. Seungmin had found the idea particularly funny. Minho had said nothing, simply taking up the habit of referring to you as honey when he was attempting to soften you up. Unfortunately, it worked. 
You sense the moment Seungmin decides to give in, to chase his high. A low groan and then he’s scooping you up, lifting you off Minho and fucking you in his lap. He can hold you properly like this, arms around you as he pants into your neck. Minho never takes his eyes off you, his hand moving down to stroke himself slowly as he watches the man he shares you with grind up into you.
You struggle deciding where to look, his deep brown eyes or his leaking cock. 
Seungmin grasps one of your breasts as he lets out a desperate whine. His other hand holds your hip, tugging you down as he stutters up into you—finally releasing. They both sound pretty when they finish, whether its a low grown or a high whimper. 
You fall forward when he releases you, catching yourself with one hand on each side of Minho—pressed into the mattress below. One, two, three deep breaths and then he’s wrapped around you, tugging you down into him so he can fuck up into you like he promised. They were a good pair. Seungmin liked working you up, and Minho loved fucking the other man’s cum into you. He moved his hips a little quicker than Seungmin. He likes the messy sounds. 
Seungmin drops to the bed beside you, propping himself onto his arm so he can watch. 
“You full enough?” Minho grunts out as he tugs you up and down his cock. 
You know what he wants to hear. He pauses as you lift yourself a little, manoeuvring yourself so you can brush your lips against his. “No,” you whisper. “I need more.”
His chest rises and falls, heavy and deep. “More what?” he prompts. 
Seungmin reaches over to trace patterns along your back as you hesitate. Then, “Cum,” you whisper. “I need more.” 
“Mm?” Minho hums, sweet and gentle. “Okay, honey.” 
His arms tighten around you, the firm grip contrasting with the delicate patterns Seungmin continues tracing over the bare skin by your shoulders. Then his hips are off the bed, thick thighs offering all the leverage he needs to fuck up into you as he pants into your mouth. 
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maryangelex · 1 month
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Please, please, please.
I am requesting an Ex!husband John price/ Fem!reader, where they divorce and he’s absolutely devastated by it, grovels and upset that he lost the love of his life, and then years later by circumstances are in force proximity with each other and have to deal with communicating all their grievances and then bam heated smut and pent up frustrations at each other, and then get back together.
Thank you so much and I really appreciate you! But it’s also okay if you skip my request :)
a/n: anon how could i possibly leave this delectable prompt unanswered!!?!?!?! i have literally been saving this one for almost last because i need to use 110% of my prune brain its so amazing. one thing about me is...im a whore for ex-husband!price *clutches pearls* im sorry for making ya wait, i hope you love it!!!
this is gonna be a long one!
c/w: ex-husband!price, make-up sex, forced proximity, quickie, against a wall, p in v, creampie, john price yearns for his pretty wife
It hadn't been easy, no divorce is easy, really. Much less when it was something you didn't really want to do, but more so saw yourself as needing to do. The nights without John had gotten too lonely, his side of the bed had gotten too cold. You thought the times he was back would make up for the times he wasn't. When John came back from deployment it felt like a coin toss: sometimes it was your honeymoon all over again, but other times he was cold and distant.
You had two kids in tow; two kids that needed their father. You were a wife that needed her husband just as much. You don't blame him for not being there of course. After all, you owed it all to him; all you ever wanted he got for you, he provided you a house to raise your children in, to grow old in. He gave you nothing but unconditional love. That's what made everything harder when you decided you couldn't do this anymore. You couldn't keep hoping he'd come home to be his normal self every time just to be met with the shell of the man you fell in love with.
You knew it wasn't his fault, you knew his line of work. But having to be alone the majority of the year plus having to still be alone when he was around had gotten to you, it had become too much. And John knew this. When you told him through sobs and wails that you couldn't do this anymore, that you felt hopeless and alone and like this was the only remedy, he understood. He had packed his things and left without a fuss, leaving you the house and renting an apartment barely a drive away. He tried to make it as simple as possible, arranging to stay with the kids every weekend and more if you needed time for yourself. His silence and compliance to separate felt like more of a dagger in your chest than the reason to separate to begin with. You wished he had fought for you, that he had yelled at you and argued with you to stay and fix this.
Little did you know that when he found himself in the empty single-bedroom apartment he rented himself he did nothing but cry like a neglected child for hours until his eyes stung and couldn't physically push out any more tears. John Price was a man made of stone and yet he found himself clutching his chest as he sobbed for his wife nearly every night and every lonesome morning. He kicked himself for not fighting for you, as well. He blamed himself for having to come to this in the first place, for leaving you alone and not knowing how to cope well enough to be the very best of himself when he came back from grueling missions. For not being able to look you in the eyes after losing a man, for not being able to open up to you and cry like this in front of you when he needed to let it out of his chest, for not making love to you like a tending husband should at his wife's every whim.
He felt like the consequences of choosing his career had finally caught up to him, and losing you was his penance.
The two of you finalized your divorce quietly and without struggle, feeling like it only drove the knife deeper into your chest. You settled on the kids seeing John every other weekend and he'd be more than welcome back home to be present as their father. Because that was the thing about John: he may have not seen himself as a good man (not good enough for you, for sure) but you both knew he was the best father your kids (and you) could ever ask for.
It's been a year since your divorce; John had been living in his separate flat whilst you and the kids stayed home. He'd come every week, and take the kids every other weekend. Now your oldest's birthday was a few days away and who were you to deprive him of coming? After he had been doing such a good job at not crossing your boundaries, at being a loving father and giving you every bit of warmth and kindness and love that he gave you when you were still together...the more you listed these things the more your heart ached and you doubted yourself. The more you realized you still loved him.
On the day of your kid's birthday, he made sure to get there extra early to help you set up the place. He bought the necessary supplies, picked up the cake from the bakery, and set up the chairs and balloons. Hell, you barely lifted a finger. And of course, he was more than happy to do everything and anything for you with that cheek-pulling smile of his. As the party went on and the house filled with guests and wild kids running about, you scrambled around the house to make sure no one needed anything. That's when John intervened.
"Everythin' alright, hon? Been runnin' round the house like mad," his voice was sweet like honey as he entered the garage, where you were taking out can after can of soda from the spare fridge and into the cooler with ice you brought with you. You didn't turn to look at him as you sighed in exasperation, but you could feel John just a few steps behind you.
"Just making sure everyone's got something to drink...the sodas've run out in the cooler outside and--"
"Everyone's havin' a good time, love," John cut off your rambling with a light chuckle, the rumbling of his voice making the hair on the back of your neck stand up. He interjected by taking the cooler from your hands "Let me get that for you," he said, lifting the heavy plastic for you. You sighed again and brought the back of your hand to rub your forehead. You finally looked up to meet his eyes, which were gazing at you with so much adoration it made your stomach twist.
"John..." you started, and he responded with a furrow of his brows and a silent question. "Please don't look at me like that."
"Like what?" he asked.
"Like you still love me," you blurted, and the beat your heart skipped let you know you physically regretted saying that, instantly.
John's lips pressed into a thin line as he paused for a moment in silence.
"I do still love you," he confessed. You shook your head in disbelief and scoffed.
"John, please, it's our kid's birthday," you dismissed as you turned on your heel and made your way to the door except-
Right, you now remembered why it was a rule in your house this past year to not close the garage door: the lock was busted. You gripped the knob firmly and gave it one, two, three harsh tugs, hoping to somehow force the door open. You banged the door with your fist in frustration, hoping maybe someone heard it on the other side but all you heard was the music playing on the other side.
"Let me have a go," John said, placing the cooler down and tugging just as harshly, even slamming his shoulder against it to see if it would budge, but nothing. You and John were trapped in your garage. You let out a groan and a quiet curse as you pinched the bridge of your nose with a hand on your hip.
John placed a hand on your bicep. They were cold from the ice but the squeeze and rubbing of his thumb on your skin was filled with warmth.
"S'alright, take a breather, hon," he said tenderly, "they'll miss us soon enough to come lookin' in here."
You nodded as you stepped away from his touch. You never stopped John from still using terms of endearment for you, it never felt like a big deal. You were frustrated from the party, the perfectionist in you wanting nothing but to give your kids the best party, and now you were locked up in the garage. To make matters worse, you were locked up in here with your ex-husband who just said he still loves you.
"I meant what I said, love," his voice was barely a whisper but it still brought you out of your thoughts.
"John..." you warned.
"No, I mean it," his tone rose, firmer this time, "I still fuckin' love you, baby."
"Well, it's too late for that now, isn't it? You're gonna make an effort now, John, a year later?"
John was silent, pleading blue eyes gazing at you, the muscles in his jaw tensing.
"You didn't fight for us, John. You didn't fight for me." your finger pointed to your chest firmly as you looked back at him with tear-filled eyes.
"I know, baby, I know," his voice shook in his throat, "I should've fought for us... I should've been a better husband to you, better dad for the kids I-- I should've just been there."
You were quiet as you choked on a quiet sob, the tears escaping down your cheeks.
"I haven't stopped loving you for a second, my only regret in life is not having fought harder for you, having let go of you so easily - fuck," you watched the tears prick his eyes as he stepped closer to you. His palm came to cup your cheek and his thumb wiped away the tear staining your cheeks.
"I failed you. I just...please, baby, I just want one more chance to be a better man for you... I just want my girl back." His tone was soft as if he was reciting a prayer kneeling at a pew. His other hand came to the other side of your face, tucking your hair behind your ear before it cupped your other cheek alike.
You sobbed and brought your hands up to his wrists, shaking your head lightly, knowing all you really wanted was to forgive him despite your denial.
His forehead pressed against you as he whispered once more, "Please, baby..."
"John..." you tried
The tip of his nose rubbed against yours, "Please," he repeated, "be my pretty wife again...be mine again, yeah?" His lips brushed against yours and his hands were firm on your cheeks. You sobbed one more time before his lips pressed against yours, slotting together like two pieces of a puzzle. And fuck, you melted as your lips met.
His lips against yours just felt so right; they were your husband's lips, after all. They were made for yours and yours were made for his, that's why you knew you were so perfect for each other. The way he kissed you made your chest break into a million pieces because you just missed him so much.
The hold on his wrists became limp and you didn't resist - you couldn't resist his kiss because you wanted it so desperately, you've wanted it for this entire past year.
Your mouth moved with his, lips clashing and caressing against each other, teeth clicking together with the force of your desperate kisses, your tongues hungrily pressing their way into each others' mouths. John's hand slid to the back of your head, fingers snaking into your hair and raking through your scalp. You hummed into his mouth at the feeling.
Your hands slid up his back, balling into fists over his shoulder blades and gripping the fabric of his shirt as if you'd lose him again if you didn't hold him firm enough. You held him impossibly close to you as he did the same, your bodies familiarly molded to each other.
You felt John step forward as he still kissed you, backing you up into the nearest wall and it made the heat in your core ignite like a bonfire. When you felt the cold wall against your body, you pried your mouth away from his to gasp a breath but it wasn't half a second later before he captured your lips again. His hands slid down the frame of your body, pawing at your chest and curves before eagerly bunching up the skirt of your dress around your hips. You scrambled to his belt, clumsily and hurriedly doing your best to unbuckle it and undo his pants.
He scoured under your dress to tug your underwear down your thighs with messy urgency. His lips sloppily and wetly trailed up and down your chest and neck before finding their way back to your mouth.
Your hand palmed his hardened length through his boxers and he groaned into your mouth. One of his hands took hold of yours and stuffed it in his boxers to stroke his aching cock as you both panted between kisses.
"All yours, darling," he groaned as he guided your hand stroking his cock, "forever fuckin' will be yours."
And you whined at his words, or maybe at the way his other hand snaked between your legs, fingers wetting themselves with the slick pooled between your folds before pressing into your hole. He pumped his fingers in and out, making you reminisce on how those thick digits have made you feel so good in the past.
You moaned his name like a prayer, pleading for him to fuck you because you needed him. You've needed him for a fucking year and couldn't wait a second longer.
John would give you anything and everything, he always has. So he wasted no time in removing his fingers from your pussy, coating his cock in the slick they collected, and using his other hand to hike your leg up around his waist.
You braced yourself against the wall and with your hands against his shoulders as he practically lifted you off your feet and insert his girthy, swollen cock inside of you. You moaned unabashedly at the way he split you open as he bottomed out.
"So perfect...my perfect wife," he breathed, "made just for me, baby." His fingers dug into the flesh of your thigh and you were sure it would bruise the same way your nails clawing through his shirt were sure to leave crescents on his skin.
John pumped his cock in and out of you slowly but firmly for a few strokes before picking up the pace. His rhythm was relentless as he fucked up into you, pistoning his hips and making your skin clap against each other.
You threw your head back as you whined and moaned at the feeling of the head of his cock bullying against your cervix. Thank god for the music outside.
John hiked up your other leg, wrapping both around his waist as he fucked you against the wall hard and needy. His eyes looked deep into your teary ones, not breaking away to not miss the gorgeous sight of his pretty wife getting fucked by him after so long. He moaned at just the look on your face, at the way your walls gripped him like a vice.
"Look at you... never lettin' go of somethin' so beautiful," he practically slurred, his rhythm becoming sloppy and desperate as he chased his high, and he knew you were close too.
You wrapped your arms around his neck and took his mouth into another starved kiss. Your hands tugged at the hair on the back of his head and you let him fuck you with the same longing and desire as the first time.
You chanted his name between breathy moans as you climbed up to your climax. John was a mumbling mess of endearments and sweet nothings as he kept thrusting hard and sloppy into your squelching pussy.
"I love you, John," you choked out through tears, not knowing if it was from the pleasure he was giving you or from the overwhelming emotion being with your husband again was making you feel.
"I fuckin' love you more, dove," he accentuated his words with thrusts until he felt your walls clamp around his length and watched as you wailed and sobbed out more moans, sending him into his own climax with just a few more pumps shortly after. You were sure you'd bear him a third child with the way his cum seeped out of you.
He rested his sweat-coated forehead against yours as you both panted. You were a flushed mess against the wall, limbs liquefied and throat raw. John slowly let you down with the utmost care in the world, gently holding you up on your feet like you were a delicate porcelain doll.
You held each other close as he peppered soft kisses on your face, the same way he'd always done after sex when you were married. John Price, always the gentleman.
You basked in the afterglow as you gazed at each other, love filling John's wide dark pupils. It was hard for you to hide the smile that tugged at your lips and it made John chuckle, thumb rubbing your cheek lovingly.
Then, you heard the rattling of the door and you quickly stood up straight and collected yourself up on your feet the best you could. Kyle, or Uncle Gaz as your kids coined him, and the other two men had burst through the lodged garage door.
"Oi, how long you two been locked here?" he questioned.
"Aye, we been callin' youse for half 'n hour," the Scott quipped behind him.
John scolded them for not acting quicker if they were so worried, and scowled at the way the younger two had shit-eating grins plastered on their faces. He dismissed them as he picked up the cooler, which was now more full of water than ice, and shot you a look.
You chided at his smirk with your bright red cheeks.
"This mean I can move back in?" he teased.
"We'll see, John" you fought back a smile.
369 notes · View notes
sidekick-hero · 3 months
Text
Love from the other side
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(steddie | rated: M | wc: 6.2k | tags: Vampire Eddie Munson, Nurse Steve Harrington, Mild Gore, Blood Drinking | AO3)
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"Steve, we've got a major crash on the Interstate. Multiple vehicles involved. You're on triage duty. Patients will be arriving in five minutes,” Robin, the head nurse in the ER, tells him in a calm voice. She's Steve's best friend, but even he's sometimes surprised at how calm Robin can be in critical situations. He's seen her fret over the prospect of asking out a girl she likes, and her freak-out before her first date with Nancy is now something of a legend between them.
But ask her to handle a crisis and she's cool as a cucumber.
Steve sighs and nods. That means it's going to be a long night. He's already been on for ten hours, two more and he could have gone home to his cat and his warm, soft bed. But they're understaffed as it is, and with so many new patients in unknown condition coming in, he'll be here for at least another five hours. Maybe more.
He makes his way to the triage area of the ER and braces himself for what's to come.
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When he finally makes it home, the sun has already risen and he's dead on his feet.
He stumbles through the front door of his apartment and is greeted by Garfield, his tabby cat, who continues to weave through his legs as he takes off his shoes, almost tripping him. He meows pitifully at Steve.
"Yeah, yeah, you poor thing. You'r treated worse here than in a shelter. Warm and cozy and dry with a human to open your tins and feed you."
Garfield meows again, this time more demanding, emphasizing the urgency with which he wants food.
Throwing up his arms, Steve relents. "Fine. Heaven forbid I get to change into something comfortable first."
As soon as he places Garfield's bowl in front of him, Steve is all but forgotten as the cat digs in. "You're welcome," he says to his beloved little freeloader, not expecting a response. He's talking to a cat, after all, but it still helps make the apartment feel less empty.
And there's no one to judge him for it. Not since Robin moved in with Nancy and he had to find a one-bedroom apartment that he could actually afford on his own.
It's not that he begrudges them their happiness, far from it. But coming home to an empty apartment and talking to his cat instead of another human being got old pretty quickly. Worse than that.
It has become lonely.
"Pull yourself together, Steve, and stop whining," he chides himself, still talking out loud.
Steve sighs. He can see himself ending up a hermit with twenty cats who never leaves the house. Deciding it's best to just go to sleep before his thoughts turn any more self-pitying, he bends down to scratch Garfield's head and tells him, "I'm going to bed."
Garfield continues to ignore him as he sips the milk Steve has placed in front of him.
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Steve is off for the next two days and spends the time mostly sleeping, doing laundry, and stocking up on food after realizing he didn't even have a slice of toast for breakfast.
He also goes over to Robin and Nance's for dinner, since he's not a hopeless hermit yet. Between the three of them, they go through three bottles of wine and end up swapping stories and inside jokes until his stomach hurts from laughing so hard.
It doesn't make coming back to an empty apartment any easier.
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His next shift is another night shift, and it's surprisingly quiet for a Friday night. So far, the worst he has had to deal with is a nasty cut on a drunk frat boy's forehead after the guy fell through a glass door. Steve's still surprised he didn't hurt himself worse. Head wounds bleed like crazy, though, so he looked like he had been attacked by a serial killer when his equally drunk buddies carried him to the emergency room. Seeing that only one deep cut needed stitches, while the other, shallower cuts on his arms and face would be fine on their own, had put Steve in a surprisingly good mood.
So good, in fact, that he carelessly remarked to Carol, the other nurse on duty with him, "Looks like a quiet night for once."
You could have heard a needle drop in the silence that followed his statement, and Carol looked ready to murder him. He had just violated the most important rule in any hospital.
Never, under any circumstances, say the "Q" word.
"Fuck. Oh God, I didn't mean..."
"Too fucking late, Harrington." Carol huffed before stalking off, probably to complain about him to her boyfriend, who was also the hospital director's son.
Less than twenty minutes later, all hell broke loose.
A dance floor at a local club had collapsed, resulting in several dozen serious casualties, all arriving on stretchers, crowding the triage area as Steve worked on autopilot. Assess, prioritize, assist.
In the midst of the chaos, another ambulance arrives and he goes over to talk to the paramedics about taking the patient to St. John's instead because they are at capacity, which really means they were past capacity an hour ago.
One look at the patient tells him there is no time for that,
The man on the gurney was only a few years older than Steve and had a gaping wound on his neck. He was white as a sheet and there was too little blood around a wound that looks like it hit a major artery.
"What the fuck?" He can't help but ask and the paramedic shrugs with a puzzled look on his face.
"I don't know, man. Found him like this and whoever called it in left before we got there."
Rolling their new patient in with hurried steps, Steve wonders if there was anything they could do. The wound needed surgery, and they needed to get blood and other fluids into the man as quickly as possible. Judging by the slow and shallow breathing and the sluggish pulse, his system has already started to shut down.
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They lost him before they even got to the operating room. Steve doesn't even hear about it until hours later, when everyone who had been on the dance floor has finally been taken care of and a bone-deep exhaustion replaces the adrenaline-fueled energy in his body. He's not proud of it, but he's too tired to spare the news more than a brief burst of sadness.
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Over the next weeks, seven more patients with gaping neck wounds come into the ER while Steve’s on shift, all drained of too much blood to make it past the first ten minutes under their care.
Whispers about a killer roaming the streets of Hawkins have started circulating as the number of victims rises steadily and Steve has started to sleep with a baseball bat under his bed. Just in case.
It’s early Tuesday night, four hours into his twelve hours shift, when another one comes in, this time a young girl around Steve’s age with long strawberry blonde hair and a pretty face. On her neck Steve can make out a gaping wound, just like the others had shown.
But this one is bleeding, profusely.
And the girl is awake, looking up at Steve with wide, terrified eyes.
“Hey, you’re safe, it’s gonna be okay, we’re going to take care of you,” he reassures her over and over as they make their way inside, ushering her to get surgery immediately. When he gives her his warmest reassuring smile she even tries her best to smile back.
Steve hopes she makes it.
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She does. Against all odds, considering that the last two dozen victims with similar injuries have all died, she makes it.
Her name is Chrissy Cunningham, and when Steve reads the name on her file, he remembers her. She was a year behind him, a cheerleader. They never really talked much, but he remembers that she was kind and talked to him after everyone else on the team and the cheerleading squad had stopped doing so.
He's glad that she survived, and he promises himself that he will check in on her as soon as his shift is over.
If it hadn't been Chrissy, if it hadn't been someone he knew, he probably never would have met Eddie.
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At the end of one of those weird in-between shifts at four in the morning, Steve changes into a pair of sweatpants and his favorite hoodie before heading over to the observatory area where they had to put Chrissy for now because a whole wing of the building is under construction due to some asbestos in the walls. She's already in stable condition, only needing fluids and antibiotics because they have no idea what bit her, so they're letting her sleep it off for now and hopefully find a room to put her in the next day.
The halls of the hospital are quiet at this time of night, especially outside the ER, and it's almost eerie. It feels like no one is here but Steve and the thought makes him shiver. All this serial killer talk is really getting to him, he thinks.
Reaching the area separated only by screens, he sees a figure standing by her bed. He can't make out much, but it appears to be a man, judging by his height, and he's leaning over the bed, talking softly to Chrissy. The man, if it is one, but the deep timber of his voice makes Steve think it is, is not wearing scrubs, but jeans and a hoodie, and Steve is pretty sure he's not hospital staff.
Suddenly, he remembers that something - or someone - must have inflicted the injury on Chrissy's neck.
"Hey, who are you, and what are you doing here?" he shouts as he runs over to the bed, and the figure turns to face him.
It is a man, with wide, dark eyes in a pale face framed by equally dark, messy curls.
"Shit, shit, shit," the man curses and bolts, moving faster than should be humanly possible. One moment he's staring at Steve like a deer in the headlights with his big bambi eyes, the next his shoulder slams into Steve, knocking him to the ground as the mysterious figure disappears from view.
He pushes himself upright and rises from the ground with a determined effort, because even though the guy doesn't look like it, it feels like he's been hit by a brick wall. When he regains his footing, he shakes off the impact and makes his way over to Chrissy to check on her.
She's awake, but too weak to sit up, though she tries.
"Shh, hey, don't strain yourself Chrissy, it's all right, he's gone. You're safe," he reassures her, a hand on her shoulder to keep her from moving too much and aggravating her wound.
"No," she says, her voice barely above a whisper, shaking her head slightly. Just when he wants to reiterate that yes, he's really gone, she continues. "He's safe. He saved me."
"What?" Steve asks, taken aback by her statement. He can tell that even the few words she has spoken have taken a toll on her, draining what little strength she has regained, but he can't help it, he needs to know what she means.
"He...saved me. Pulled him...off. Off me. Would have...killed..." she trails off, her eyelids fluttering shut and Steve lets her be.
Pulling up a chair, he sits down next to her to keep watch, just in case her savior decides to come back.
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The next day Chrissy is more lucid. She's also in her own room and has already given a statement to the police when Steve comes in for his shift.
It doesn't matter though, he still has to ask her what happened, needs to know who the strange man was who continued to haunt Steve's dreams after he came home sometime in the early morning.
"I don't know who he is, Steve. He just showed up while Jason...while he," she is visibly shaken by having to remember the events of last night and Steve thinks he should tell her that it's okay, she doesn't have to tell him. But he doesn't. It feels like she needs to say it as much as he needs to hear it.
Steeling herself and taking a deep breath, Chrissy continues, "While Jason was biting me. Mauled me, really. I think he would have torn my throat out if this man had not shown up. He slammed into Jason, ripped him off of me, and they both went down. There was a struggle, I could hear it, but everything hurt so much I couldn't move my head. It went on for a while, I don't know how long. Time was really weird. And then the guy was looking down at me, telling me to stay still, that he was going to call an ambulance, and that I just had to hang in there. He pressed something against my neck and it hurt so much, but the pain kept me there, y'know? So I wouldn't float away and never come back. He told me to stay with him and I did. Until we heard the ambulance. Then he told me he was sorry, but he had to go. And then he was gone and the paramedics took me away."
Chrissy looks very pale after telling her story, the dark rings under her eyes more pronounced than when he first entered the room. But before he can let her rest, he has one more question.
"What was he doing here?"
To Steve's surprise, the question makes Chrissy smile. "An apology, because this is no way for a lady to be left in the lurch."
Steve has no idea what to do with this information, so he just takes Chrissy's hand and squeezes it gently.
"You'll be out of here in no time, Chrissy. We will take good care of you, I promise."
"I know. Thanks, Steve."
He turns and walks away, leaving her to get back to sleep, knowing that it will be a long time before he will be able to do the same.
What the fuck is going on?
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They find Jason Carver, or what is left of him, the next day. It's all over the news. No one knows why he attacked his girlfriend or who killed him. The reports leave out a lot of the gruesome details, just saying that he was torn to pieces when they found him.
Steve, of course, can't let that be all. He has to know what happened, so after his shift he sneaks down to the morgue to take a look at what is left of Jason, a guy he only knew in passing, since Steve had already left the school when Jason became captain of the basketball team, taking Steve's old position.
What he finds is a body that is badly mangled, just like the news said. There are deep wounds, chunks of flesh missing, his right arm torn from his shoulder. Though it's hard to swallow, it's not the first time Steve has seen a body destroyed almost beyond recognition. What makes him recoil from the dead man in front of him is the fact that Jason Carver's body is already decomposing as if he'd been dead for several days, maybe weeks, instead of not even 48 hours.
Steve leaves the morgue even more confused - and frightened - and heads home with the image of Jason's tattered, rotting body burned into his eyelids.
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Over the next three weeks Steve sees four more victims with the same torn throats and bloodless bodies. None of them can be saved like they saved Chrissy.
He doesn’t see the mysterious man again.
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It's late June when Steve's life changes forever.
The sun has only set an hour ago and the air is still warm as he walks home from his shift. Robin and Nance's car broke down the day before, and they live on the outskirts of town, so Steve gave them his car until theirs is fixed in a few days. The weather is nice and he doesn't mind walking the three miles to his apartment.
He's almost home, maybe ten minutes away, when he hears someone whistle.
There's a man standing at the entrance to an alley a few feet ahead of him, and since he's the only one around, Steve assumes it must be him whistling at Steve. The guy is hot, there is no way around it, about Steve's height with an athletic build and a haircut that reminds him of the 80's, his blond hair styled into a mullet.
"What's a pretty guy like you doing out here all alone?" The man asks as he gives Steve a slow look. It's supposed to be seductive, Steve thinks, but it just comes off as sleazy. Which is a shame, because the guy has a pretty face, long lashes, full lips, delicate features. Steve's also going through a bit of a dry spell lately, but he's not desperate enough to hook up with a slimy sleazeball like that.
"None of your business, really," he replies, walking a little faster than before. Something doesn't feel right, he thinks, feeling the hairs stand up on the back of his neck.
"Aww, don't be like that, sweet thing. I just wanna talk, I swear." Steve is almost past the guy when their eyes meet and he feels himself freeze. "Why don't you come closer so I can smell you better?"
Even as he thinks, "What the hell is wrong with this guy?" he feels his body turn toward him and his feet propel him forward. He feels himself panic, but it's a distant thing, like an itch under his skin that he can't reach no matter how hard he scratches.
When he's in front of the stranger, so close that their chests almost touch, the man leans in and sniffs Steve's neck like a dog at a slab of meat. He hums deep in his chest and Steve feels the wet touch of his tongue against his skin. It's enough of a shock that he can get his body to react, to fight back, but it's no use. The moment he moves, the man growls menacingly at him.
With his feet still rooted to the ground, Steve feels like he's underwater, his senses dulled and his limbs heavy, weighed down by the tons of water around him. He fights it with all his strength and it takes all he's got to put his hands on the man's chest and push him away.
It's not even close to a hard push, but the man clearly didn't expect Steve to fight back at all, so he stumbles back a bit anyway. Unfortunately for Steve, it only makes him angrier.
"Looks like you got some fight in you after all. Too bad I don't like my food to fight back," he snarls, and before Steve knows what's happening he feels his back slam into the wall behind him, darkness surrounding them on all sides.
He struggles against the hands holding him down, but it's no use, their grip steely and unyielding.
The once pretty face has turned into something twisted and ugly, a grotesque imitation of a human face, and when the thing in front of him opens its mouth, all Steve sees are teeth. Long, sharp teeth.
Steve screams, but not a sound comes out of its mouth.
As those teeth sink into his neck, the face of the man who saved Chrissy's life pops unbidden into his mind. Steve has seen it in his dreams more than once, and it's strangely comforting to think of it now, in what Steve is sure will be his last minutes alive. As if this is all a fucked up dream and Chrissy's mysterious savior will come for him, too.
White hot pain races through his body from where the thing that looked like a man sunk its teeth into him and it's only that pain that makes him believe what he sees next.
One moment he's in mind-numbing agony, almost wishing for death to come and end his suffering, and the next the oppressive weight of that thing is gone, its teeth no longer in Steve. With nothing holding him up, he crumples to the ground, his head dazed and his body shaking like a leaf.
To his right he hears the sounds of a viscous battle. Growls and snarls, flesh hitting flesh, flesh hitting brick, the sound of bones snapping. He's too weak to even turn his head, and part of him is glad for that.
The fight seems to go on forever and Steve feels himself slipping in and out of consciousness. His heart has stopped pounding and his pulse has slowed to about 60 beats per minute, which is good. Not too slow, his system is still going strong. It was cardiac arrest after immense blood loss that had killed the other victims, but so far that doesn't seem to be Steve's fate.
At least not if the wound on his neck that is still slowly bleeding is taken care of soon.
He doesn't dare press his undoubtedly dirty palm against it yet. Hell, he's not even sure if he can lift his hand that far. But something has to be done about the bleeding, sooner rather than later.
As if his savior had heard his thoughts, there is a final, stomach-churning sound of flesh and bone ripping, followed by silence, the fight finally over.
And then there he is, as if his mind had conjured him, the man who saved Chrissy. The man with the big brown doe eyes and the pale skin and the messy curls. There's blood on his face now, and... other things Steve doesn't want to think about.
Steve is safe now, he feels it deep in his soul. He doesn't know how he can know that, how he can trust a complete stranger to keep him safe, but he does. His eyelids flutter shut, the tension finally draining from him completely.
A cool hand on his cheek and a warm, deep voice, tinged with what sounds like fear, pull him back.
"Hey, no, no, no. Steve, you need to stay here with me, okay? Stay with me, sweetheart."
"You know my name," Steve mumbles, fighting the heavy rocks that weigh down his eyelids as he looks at the pretty face in front of him. His eyes dip lower and there's more blood on the man, his clothes torn and his skin exposed. "You're hurt."
"You're very observant, Stevie. Come on, we gotta get you to the hospital. You'll be as good as new in no time." He smiles at Steve and Steve is helpless not to smile back. There's the tease of a dimple forming in his cheek and Steve lifts his hand with Herculean effort to touch it. When the man notices the gesture, the dimple forms fully, deep and alluring. A cold hand catches his before it reaches its target and Steve whines in protest.
The man chuckles fondly. "Here, lemme help you," he says, bringing Steve's hand to his face, the dimple still waiting for Steve to touch it. The skin is soft under his hands and cold too, like it's a winter night and not the end of June.
"I'm gonna pick you up now, Stevie. It's faster than waiting for an ambulance. Just close your eyes and we'll be there before you know it."
Steve feels himself lifted from the ground into strong arms and instinctively turns his head into the man's chest, enjoying the vibration of his soft laughter at the gesture against his cheek.
Then they're moving, and fast. One second he wonders how someone covered in blood and other unspeakable things can smell so good, and the next the lights of the hospital burn bright and painful in his blurry eyes.
"He needs help, now," he hears the man say to someone, his voice firm and demanding. It makes Steve shiver in his arms. And then he's placed on a gurney and his savior leaves with the whisper of cold lips on Steve's forehead.
It's only much later, when he's recovered enough to form coherent thoughts, that Steve realizes two things.
He doesn't even know the name of the man who saved him.
He never heard a heartbeat as his head was pressed against the man's chest.
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Steve is released two days later and Robin insists that he stay with her and Nancy for a while. There's really no arguing with his best friend when she's got something on her mind, so he doesn't even try. He's too tired anyway.
His sleep is shit, plagued by nightmares of sharp teeth and blood and bodies being torn to pieces.
He also dreams of the mysterious man, and while these dreams aren't nightmares, they're still confusing, even unsettling, because they leave him feeling hollow. Like he has lost something. Which is ridiculous, the man was never his, he doesn't even know his name.
As he spends the next week at Robin and Nancy's, being pampered and doted on, he has no idea how close he is to learning the name of his savior. That and much more.
After finally convincing his best friend that he can manage on his own, that he needs to go home, that Garfield misses him even with Robin or Nancy stopping by to feed him, it is both daunting and a relief to see Robin's car drive away from where he stands in front of his apartment building.
The nightmares haven't stopped, and he admits that the prospect of being alone in his apartment scares him, but he can't live on his best friend's couch forever. Besides, even there, the nightmares would wake him up shaking and panting, waking Robin and Nancy more than once in the middle of the night. Alone in his apartment, he won't wake anyone with his whimpering and screaming.
Garfield is already waiting for him when he comes through the door, weaving through his legs and meowing at him. Surprised at how much he missed the tabby menace, Steve leans down and takes him in his arms, burying his face in the soft fur.
"Hey baby, sorry for leaving you alone for so long. But Aunt Robbie told me that she and Nancy took good care of you, playing with you and petting you. Probably spoiled you rotten, huh?"
Garfield meows again and pushes his head under Steve's chin, rubbing against him and purring like crazy. Steve smiles into his fur, thinking that he's glad to be home, even if it's still empty except for the purring cat in his arms.
He puts Garfield back down and makes him something to eat before heading to his bathroom to take a long, hot shower and change into something more comfortable. When he pushes open the door and steps inside, he is too stunned by the sight that greets him for any real reaction other than a sharp intake of breath.
On the floor is the man who has taken over most of Steve's dreams and many of his waking thoughts as well.
The man lies still and Steve can see dark stains on his clothes and he just knows it's blood. It could be someone else's, but somehow Steve is sure it's the man's own. Within seconds, he's on his knees next to the unconscious (please just be unconscious) figure, his knees smarting from the way he just fell onto them on the hard and cold tiles.
The man is on his stomach, his face turned to the side, away from Steve, so he moves to turn the man over. He's surprisingly heavy, a dead weight under his hands (no, no, no, not dead, just unconscious, his mind chants), but Steve is nothing if not persistent, and he finally manages to turn the man onto his back.
"Oh God," Steve groans as he can finally assess the damage. There are wounds all over his body, deep gashes on his thighs, his torso, his arms, even his face. "What happened to you?"
"Ten against one. Not...fair," the man replies, his voice barely audible and his eyes still closed. Steve has to lean in to make out the words, but him talking also means the man is still alive, though Steve isn't sure how much longer.
Taking the man's wrist, Steve looks for a pulse to see how far his system has already shut down, but... there is no pulse to be found.
He remembers not hearing a heartbeat when his cheek was pressed against the man's chest, so he presses his ear to where the man's heart is, waiting for the sound of its faint beat.
Nothing.
Steve leans back and searches the man's eyes, half-open now and clearly alive.
"How... you can't be alive. You don't have a pulse, your heart isn't beating." He is stammering, but it's a lot to take in. It shouldn't be possible. It's not like he wants the guy to be dead, but for all intents and purposes, he should be.
Bloodied lips pull back into a faint smile. "Sweetheart, not even the most beautiful sight like you could make my heart beat again. Although it really tries for you."
Despite everything, the way this guy flirts with him while he lies in his own blood brings a crooked smile to Steve's face.
"There, that smile? If it could, my heart would be beating out of my chest right now." Steve can tell the man is trying for levity, but he's fading and fast.
"As charming as you are, you're also bleeding all over my bathroom floor. With no pulse or heartbeat. And I don't even know your friggin' name! So forgive me for asking, but what the fuck?"
"Sorry for the blood on your floor, I tried to patch myself up, but I must have passed out. Embarrassing, really. Didn't think you'd be back so soon. I'd get out of your hair, but... well, you know. I don't think I can move." The words start to slur halfway through, and those beautiful brown eyes keep disappearing behind heavy eyelids. Steve has to do something, quickly, before his savior dies.
"Eddie," the man croaks, his voice barely audible. Steve wouldn't have heard it if it weren't for the intent way he stares at him.
"What?"
"My name. Eddie."
"Eddie. Okay." Steve nods his head, the hand still wrapped around Eddie's wrist grabbing his hand instead, squeezing it gently. "Eddie, we need to get you to the hospital now."
It looks like Eddie tries to shake his head, but gives up halfway, exhausted. "No. They can't help me."
"But they can! Someone needs to sew up your wounds, and you've lost too much blood, you need a blood transfusion and fluids and - why are you laughing?"
"You're right, I need blood, but not the way you think."
The image of sharp teeth flickers behind his eyelids, a gnarled face snarling at him. The feeling of those teeth buried in his neck, white-hot pain shooting through his veins.
"What... Eddie, I don't..."
Eddie's face turns toward him, his nostrils flaring as he takes a deep breath, as if smelling the air.
"Come closer so I can smell you better."
Two different voices growling and snarling, not just one.
Strong arms lifting him off the ground as if he weighed nothing, carrying him nearly three miles. "It's faster than waiting for an ambulance."
"You're not human." Steve whispers. It's not a question.
Eddie answers it anyway. "No, I'm not."
"You're... You're a..." He can't say it, can't even think it.
"A vampire, yes." Eddie says it for him and everything falls into place. The neck wounds, the drained victims, the sharp teeth and the inhuman strength and speed.
"You want my blood." Steve has no idea why he's stating the obvious instead of running as fast as he can, but something tells him he's still safe with Eddie.
"So observant." Eddie chuckles, but it sounds wet and weak. "Yeah. But I won't take it, don't worry, Stevie."
In his mind Steve goes over the things he knows.
Eddie is a vampire. A vampire who killed another vampire to save Steve’s life. To save Chrissy’s life.
Eddie is dying. He may already be dead, but it looks like vampires can die again. Permanently.
Eddie wants his blood.
"Would it help you? My blood, I mean." That's the only thing he's not sure about. The most important thing, at least.
It looks like an inhuman - invampire, Steve thinks - effort, but Eddie manages to shake his head firmly.
"Steve, no."
"Would. It. Help?" Steve insists.
Eddie, the stubborn asshole, presses his lips together and refuses to look at him. That's answer enough for him.
Still holding Eddie's hand in his, he lifts his other hand to Eddie's mouth and presses the inside of his wrist against the closed mouth.
"Come on, Eddie. Drink." Another shake of the man's head only strengthens Steve's resolve. "Eddie, please. You saved my life. Let me do the same."
The stubborn ass continues to refuse, so Steve does the only logical thing. He stands, grabs his razor, and slides the blade across his wrist, just deep enough to draw blood from the otherwise shallow wound.
He presses the wrist back against Eddie's lips and this time he feels the man tremble.
"Please drink. I want you to. Let me help you." Moving his wrist and smearing his blood over Eddie's full lips, Steve pleads again, his voice breaking. "Please, Eddie."
It's the last please that does it, and the next thing Steve feels is the white-hot pain of teeth sinking into his wrist. Still smiling through the pain, he squeezes Eddie's hand. "That's it, you're doing so good. Take what you need."
And Eddie does. He drinks and drinks and drinks until the world goes fuzzy and black spots start dancing in front of Steve's eyes.
"Eddie," Steve slurs before everything goes dark.
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When Steve comes to, he's in his bed.
His wrist is wrapped tightly in a pristine-looking white bandage, and he's wearing his pajamas. He has no idea how he got here or what happened, everything is kind of blurry. Steve tries to sit up, but almost immediately the world starts spinning and he groans in protest.
That's when the door to his bedroom opens and his mysterious savior walks into the room with a bowl in his hand.
Eddie, his mind supplies. His name is Eddie and he was dying the last time Steve saw him.
"Are you okay?" Steve asks him, his voice full of worry and he gets a sad smile in return.
"Stevie, I'm the one who should be asking you that." Eddie sits down next to him on the bed but doesn't touch him. He looks tense and Steve wonders why. Though most of what happened is a blur, he remembers holding Eddie's hand and Eddie calling him beautiful.
"I'm fine. A little dizzy, but fine. You were the one bleeding all over my bathroom floor. What happened, how are you even standing, how long was I out?"
Eddie reaches out and takes Steve's cheek in his hand. "You saved my life, Stevie. That's what happened. And you almost got yourself killed, you self-sacrificing idiot. So even though it saved my life, I have to ask you, beg you if I have to, to never do anything so stupid again."
Steve puts his own hand on top of Eddie's hand on his face and looks him in the eye as he tells him, "You saved my life first and risked your own as well. So I guess the pot is calling the kettle black here."
He's rewarded with a dimpled smile. "Fair point. Now that we're even, can you promise me you'll never do anything like this again?"
"I dunno. Can you promise not to try to save me again if I'm in danger?" He knows it's a low blow, but if it helps him get his point across, he's not above playing dirty. Besides, part of him really wants to know. The needy part, the scared part.
"You know the answer to that," Eddie says, brushing his thumb across Steve's cheekbone.
"Isn't that a little unfair?"
"Yeah," Eddie whispers, and Steve realizes he's so much closer than before. "But I don't care if it keeps you safe."
Steve feels his heart thunder in his chest, his eyes darting from Eddie's to the other man's lips and back again. Licking his own lips, Steve asks, "And why is that?"
Eddie's lips are only a breath away from his own, and he tastes his answer as much as he hears it.
"You know that answer as well."
Before Steve can say anything else, Eddie's cool, smooth lips seal over his and every thought in his mind is forgotten. There's only Eddie.
Later he'll ask about the other vampires. About all the dead people in the emergency room. He'll ask who Eddie is, why he's running around town saving people, and who hurt him so badly.
But all that can wait, at least until Steve is done drinking down the delicious sounds falling from Eddie's mouth.
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This is a little birthday gift for my dear friend @yournowheregirl. Alice, I know you love vampires so I tried my best to give you some. Time ran out on me but I still hope you like it 💜
I hope you had the best birthday ever because you deserve nothing but happiness.
Edit: I forgot while posting to say that this is heavily inspired by a wonderful podcast I highly recommend, Not quite dead. Give it a listen folks!
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gurugirl · 9 months
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A Good Boy | 5. When In Greece
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Summary: A family vacation to Greece is meant to be peaceful and relaxing but when Y/n is forced to confront Harry about her feelings everything is turned upside down.
Note: This is stepmon!reader x stepson!harry - both are adults in this story but don't read if you don't like it.
Word Count: 17,236
Warning: 18+ only, NSFW, smut, inappropriate & forbidden relationship, age gap, cheating, lying, angst
A Good Boy Masterlist
Y/n stumbled bleary-eyed to her car as she tried to catch her breath. She felt like she was in a cloud of red, full of stinging bees trudging through a telescoped tunnel of hopelessness. She’d never experienced that particular feeling before but she forced her brain to stop its thoughts and found a safe spot to release her tears and sobs into her leather steering wheel which was at the campus café parking lot just a half mile from Harry’s dorm. Not ideal but she was unable to hold her despair in for another moment when she pulled into an open space and shut the engine off.
When she finally hiccupped through her tears and numbness began to take over she dialed Marla.
“Where are you?” Marla knew the call was coming. And being the best friend anyone could ever ask for, anticipated needing to keep her day free for her friend.
“I’m at the campus café,” Y/n gasped and closed her eyes. A ridiculous woman. From the beginning of the affair to the end. A terrible, vile, and evil person.  There was no redemption for her.
“Stay where you are. I’m coming to get you–“
“No. I’ll come over. I can–“
“No, you cannot. I will not let you drive while you’re crying and upset. We can get your car later. I don’t want you getting into an accident. Stay put. I’m already on my way.”
And for Harry? The moment he slammed the door shut behind her he fell to the floor on his hands and knees and let his salty tears pool under him onto the stupid cheap rug he bought to make his room look more “homey”. He wanted to rip the rug to shreds but he couldn’t manage to stand up and pull himself together, much less begin to shred woven cotton and polyester into bits out of anger.
He couldn’t begin to make sense of his emotions. The sadness and rage. He wouldn’t be getting over her for a long time. He knew it. He was devastated and the worst part was that she really did like him but she was trying to protect them both from further hurt. He would have learned to deal with it. He would have adapted to the rules. He just needed time. Just a little more time. He was still trying to get used to it.
It was hopeless. He knew all along that it couldn’t last. He just didn’t think it would be over so fast. He’d barely gotten over the thrill of having her for it to all suddenly be ripped away.
He didn’t hate her. Not even close. He was mad, yes, but he could never hate her. Everything that led up to her breaking up with him wasn’t her fault.
He blamed his father.
He blamed the arrangement, which he knew was his dad’s idea. He hated that it was Y/n that Leo wound up picking. She deserved love and affection and she needed it.
He swallowed the bile that rose up in his throat. His hangover was not helping matters. His muscles were stiff as he tried to sit back onto his shins. He was shaking from how he’d tensed his body and from the heartbreak and the tears and the grief.
When his phone chimed with a message his heart leaped and he crawled across the floor to snatch up his phone from his table quickly. But then when he saw it wasn’t Y/n, but rather Tyler letting him know he’d forgotten his wallet, he felt a sharp dejected anguish he knew he was going to have to get used to.
.           .           .
Y/n was in charge of selecting their ocean villa. It was a detached, private villa with a pool overlooking Agni Bay. They would be staying in Corfuand near where they could book private charters to islands and to surrounding beaches. She had booked some excursions and day trips for them but mostly they’d be lounging by the pool on the huge outdoor terrace.
She learned a few days prior that Harry was joining them and bringing Tyler. Leo had told her. It stung a bit that Harry hadn’t told her himself. But then again, it made sense. After breaking it off with him she hadn’t heard from him at all. She missed the daily texts and nightly calls. Missed his voice.
Two weeks without hearing from him at all had been difficult but she immersed herself in tennis club, booked extra sessions, found a nice murder mystery book series to read, and kept herself busy with the girls.
Marla was supportive and helpful. Cyndee and Gina still didn’t know anything but Cyndee did bring Harry up on their last Friday outing. Y/n wanted to strangle Cyndee for bringing it up at all because she was barely hanging on that evening as it was. But of course, Cyndee didn’t know better. She wasn’t in on the secret. Y/n wanted so badly to text Harry and just send him a quick I miss you message. But that wouldn’t help anything.
Leo went out of town for a couple of days for a conference upstate and so Y/n did her best to keep busy. Booking the vacation trip was actually fun. Cathartic even. She’d had the villa reserved far in advance but tacking on the little details felt really nice. Though she was nervous about the idea of Harry being there with them. Maybe it would be okay. Maybe it wouldn’t be a problem with him there. Perhaps things could go back to how they had been before everything happened.
She doubted it but hoped. Plus Tyler would be there to distract Harry. She would do her best to enjoy every minute of her vacation.
And as booked and busy as Y/n made herself during the day, the nights were not kind. When she was finally alone in her room in the dark with her thoughts she cried. She’d let her emotions pour out and soak her pillow. She’d cry in the shower and sit under the water for far longer than she should, being that water was such a scarce resource.
The worst part was that Leo had initiated sex the night after she broke up with Harry. It was awful. She told him she wasn’t feeling well so he backed off. But the following night he wanted her in his bed.
So she went to his bed and tried to perform. She tried to focus on the man she was with but it felt like betrayal. It felt bitter and nauseating. She couldn’t stay wet and she couldn’t finish. But of course, Leo did and once that was done she went back to her room and scrubbed her body until her skin was raw and her eyes were red with tears and her sinuses were clogged in that annoying way that you can’t even manage to clear them.
It had never happened to her before. Her feelings for Harry were much deeper than she allowed herself to realize. But on top of her own feelings for him was the worry that he was also hurting the way she was. She didn’t want to hurt him. She didn’t want him to feel this way.
But he did. He felt the same stabbing pain in his chest every time he thought of Y/n. He cried any time he was alone and he composed message after message to her but never sent them. He couldn’t get the lump out of his throat. He couldn’t eat much. He forced himself to have lunch midday with his friends during the week but it was torture pretending he was fine.
Tyler was worried about him. He checked on Harry every evening before quiet time in the dorm.
“Let’s go out this Friday. We’ll invite a bunch of friends. Let loose. No pressure for anything. Just some fun.”
Harry was indifferent. He didn’t care if he went out or stayed in. It was all the same. He was numb anytime he was with people so he knew he wouldn’t enjoy himself and if he stayed in by himself he’d just write a letter to her and cry and also wouldn’t enjoy himself. Nothing mattered.
The only thing that had him moving forward was his anger about the situation. He told his dad he was going to Greece with them, which he immediately regretted but then knew he couldn’t take back because Tyler was going and plans had been made. But part of him looked forward to going and seeing Y/n. Maybe… just maybe she’d change her mind. Maybe she’d want him again if she just saw him. Maybe he could convince her…
And the third week that had gone by since they’d seen each other was another blur for both of them. Harry was just going through the motions. Studying, school, forcing a smile, crying, sleeping… And for Y/n she was barely paying attention to anything that was happening during her busy days, never letting her mind wander too far from her current activity whatever that may have been. But her nights were clear and painful. She allowed herself to think of him and to cry and to feel.
Her girl’s night out was something she usually looked forward to but this time she was dreading it when Marla told her they’d be going to a new place. Leo hadn’t been home all day and Linda finished cleaning the house early and so Y/n was left alone for a big part of the day. It had been a mistake to assume she was going to relax and lay by the pool and read. She couldn’t focus. So instead she let herself think of Harry and wonder about him. The lounge chair she was on was the one that she and Harry had come to after their pool escapade.
Putting her hands on the fabric of the cushion she imagined that day so vividly. Then the girls came over and later that night they’d had sex in his room but Marla had overheard. She winced from the memory.
Everything reminded her of him. So she was feeling more like drinking a bottle of wine and smoking a joint and passing out rather than dancing the night away in a busy bar.
But, just like every other girl’s night out, Marla arrived in the Uber to pull Y/n out of her slump.
She hadn’t even bothered to wear makeup. She did put on a dress but it wasn’t anything that would draw attention. Her flat sandals were more cute than sexy. She hadn’t showered that day.
“Not to be rude, my love, but you do not look like you’re ready for a night out. We’re going to that new spot in Malibu. Remember?”
Y/n nodded, “Yeah. I remember. Maybe I shouldn’t go. I’m okay just to stay home,” she shrugged.
“Absolutely not. You’re coming with us. You need to get out of this big empty mansion and have some fun. Stop thinking about him. Just… come out and enjoy yourself the best you can. It’s better than wallowing here alone.” Marla was right of course.
The club in Malibu was a very popular spot. They’d never been because Malibu was a bit of a hike but they figured a change of scenery could be good (Marla suggested it).
Cyndee had gotten them in at a spot with a VIP table and bottle service. The table was in the middle of all the action. The room was dark with flashing lights and loud music and the ceiling opened up to the night sky. It was actually quite posh.
Lots of young pretty things were dancing and grinding together. The dance floor was packed. Y/n felt out of place. She normally dolled up but tonight, she looked more like an 8th grade math teacher.
“Please smile. You’re making me sad,” Marla whispered into her ear as they took their spot in the circular booth. Cyndee was dancing already and Gina was sitting at the table with a man who she knew from some social club she frequented. He just happened to be there at the club that night.
Gina introduced him, “This is Elias,” he stretched his hand out to shake Marla’s and then Y/n’s.
Elias was attractive and friendly. He was also really funny, which Y/n found refreshing. A good laugh. That’s what she’d needed.
She wasn’t in the mood to dance at all but Marla kept trying to convince her to let loose, “Come on! You’re gonna regret not dancing the night away. I think it’ll do you good!”
“Yeah! Come out and dance! I’ll go up with you too.” Elias smiled down at her and raised a brow.
She shook her head and sighed before slipping out of the booth and ambling to the dance floor.
And both Marla and Elias had been right. It was fun. It made her feel better. She almost forgot about Harry for a solid five-minute stretch.
She hadn’t had much to drink. She knew that the more alcohol she consumed the sadder she’d get and there would be a chance she’d wind up drunk texting Harry. She didn’t want to do anything to mess up any progress of moving on.
Elias was a terrible dancer so he fit right in with the girls. The DJ was playing some interesting music choices, some not so good to dance to but Y/n tried to ignore when the next song came on. In fact, it was so hard to transition from dancing and the beat at the end of the previous song to the next she gave up, “I’m going to grab a drink,” she spoke to Marla.
She needed a breath, despite the fact that the club was packed, getting off the dance floor cleared her mind up a bit.
The setup at the bar was very different from how it was at Murphy’s. It was in the shape of a large circle in the center of the room with neon lights that lit all the colorful bottles underneath.
Leaning her hip to the bar wall she tried to catch the eye of one of the bartenders. People all around were dancing slowly to the beat, couples smushed together enjoying the new pace of the song. The lyrics weren’t clear but Y/n knew it was something that had couples grinding together.
When she finally caught the eye of one of the bartenders she smiled and watched as they made their way toward her. But then suddenly her space was crowded by someone far taller and then she heard his voice, “Having fun?”
She thought she must be dreaming. Must be mistaken. Perhaps she’d had more alcohol than she realized. She rotated herself to look up and saw the light green eyes and soft strawberry lips of the man she’d been missing for nearly three weeks.
“Not really,” she replied honestly.
“What will you have?” The bartender interrupted their moment.
“Just a water for me, please,” Y/n nodded and smiled politely before Harry asked for a tequila. Neat.
Harry kept his eyes on Y/n. He could see she hadn’t worn makeup and hadn’t done anything with her hair at all. It made him feel the tiniest bit better to know she wasn’t trying to look sexy for anyone. Especially since she wasn’t with him.
“Who’s he?” He’d had enough tequila that he didn’t care if he sounded jealous. He was jealous. He didn’t like that she was out and dancing with some guy.
“I just met him tonight. A friend of Gina’s,” she shrugged and took in his appearance. Dark circles and stress lines between his eyes. Unshaven face. She felt like his appearance reflected her own sadness. “How are you doing, Harry?”
He scoffed and peeled his eyes from hers to look across the bar, “Just great.”
She nodded quietly and let her eyes drift off into a corner as she felt the weight of everything on her. The way this wasn’t fair. The way they were both hurt but there was nothing they could do about it.
When the bartender came back with their drinks Harry finally looked back down at her, “So you’re not drinking?” He took a quick sip from his own glass as he kept his eyes pinned to hers.
“I had a couple but I’m not trying to get drunk. It’s not wise probably.”
Harry tilted his head, “And why’s that?”
“Because alcohol kind of exasperates sad emotions. I don’t need to feel any sadder.” She spoke honestly. She didn’t need to tell him that. She could have just kept that to herself but he was being a bit cold with her, a bit standoffish and she didn’t like it. Her hope was that the confession would resonate and he’d lower his walls a bit. She wanted his warmth. Missed it.
He nodded and smirked as he looked over her head and lifted his glass upward gesturing to someone before looking back down at her, “Don’t be sad. You got exactly what you wanted.”
Suddenly he waved over at the bartender to get her attention again and Y/n figured it was best if she left. He was not budging with the attitude and she was beginning to feel her face heat up from frustration and grief, which soon would turn to her nose getting filled and tears breaking from her eyes. So she pushed herself off the bar and began to make her way through the packed floor back to her friends.
But she felt his hand wrap around the back of her arm before she could get too far and she felt the melancholy rise of undeserved hope sneak up her skin and to the back of her neck as she turned, “You did get what you wanted didn’t you? Tell me you got what you wanted.” He spoke into her ear as the song changed to something more up-tempo.
Shaking her head she scanned his face, “No. I didn’t get what I wanted. I got what I deserved.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means I didn’t deserve what I wanted, Harry.” She swallowed as he stared down at her, his face close to hers so he could hear.
“What did you want, Y/n?”
“That’s not fair. We can’t talk about this here.” She looked to her peripheral and back to him.
Harry’s eyes roamed her face as the bartender called out to him to pick up the second drink he ordered. He looked over his shoulder and then turned back to her, “I want to talk to you. Where can I find you?”
Y/n turned and jutted her chin toward the round booth her group was at, “Just there at that booth.”
She floated across the floor in a daze toward the table. She almost couldn’t believe it. What kind of luck was this? Los Angeles was massive. Knowing that Harry was at the same bar as she was, in Malibu of all places, seemed impossible. Highly highly unlikely. She settled into the booth opposite Cyndee and Gina and looked around the bar in search of Harry. She wasn’t sure where he’d gone off to or who he was with so she didn’t know where to look.
But after a few minutes, she saw him cut through the crowd toward her and behind him, not following, a young woman, Y/n recognized as Leslie. He was in the club with Leslie. She wondered if he’d perhaps been seeing her. That would be a good thing in regard to their situation. She didn’t like the idea but it would be good for him.
“That’s Harry!” Cyndee spoke loudly across the table, looking from Y/n to Harry as he neared the table.
Everything appeared to her in slow motion as he smiled and greeted the two ladies and then looked at Y/n as he leaned in to speak close, “Will you come with me? So we can talk?”
The hallway toward the bathrooms had tiny square mirrors all over the ceiling, walls, and floor. The music was still evident from the main room of the club but things were quieter once they’d passed the threshold into the hallway.
Y/n leaned into the cool wall behind her and crossed her arms as she looked up at Harry who stood in front of her, “Who’s the guy?”
“I told you, Harry. A friend of Gina’s. First time meeting him tonight.”
He nodded, “Seemed to be getting pretty friendly with him out there.”
“We were just dancing. Plus Marla was with us. Doesn’t matter anyway. What about Leslie? You’re here with her?”
“Here with a bunch of friends. And I asked Leslie to come. Yeah. Doubt you really care.”
His words were cold and very unlike how she’d been used to him behaving around her. But it was probably better this way. She shrugged, “I just want you to be happy. If you like her that’s good.”
Harry sighed, “So you gonna tell me what it is you wanted that you didn’t deserve?”
“I don’t think it’s a good idea to talk about that. I mean…” she dropped her arms to her sides and bunched the material of her dress nervously, “I think you know. You know how I feel, Harry.”
“See that’s what I’m confused about. The more I think about it the harder it is for me to wrap my mind around it. You said you broke up with me to spare me but I feel like the real reason is because it’s too hard. I think if you really liked me enough you’d have tried harder. You didn’t even give me a chance before you dropped me.”
“No. I saw how much it was affecting you. I can’t stand to hurt you so I needed to do it. Yes, part of it was because it’s hard. The situation was –“
“You hurt me the most by breaking it off,” he put a palm on the wall next to her head as he spoke, “Now I’m just angry. It didn’t make things better. And now what was the fucking point? You said you didn’t even get what you wanted. So why do it? Tell me what you really wanted. I just need to hear you say it, Y/n.”
She blinked her eyes as she looked into Harry’s. She was suddenly glad she hadn’t worn makeup because she was already feeling the beginning of the sting of tears behind her eyes, “You. But you know that.”
His features softened immediately. His berry lips parted as he wet them with his tongue and he brought his other palm up to the wall to narrow the space between them, “If you wanted me, you had me. You have me.”
She shook her head, “I don’t deserve you, though. That’s why this–“
“Fuck off with your bullshit. Like you’re some kind of martyr. You took everything from me. I just wanted to be with you. I wanted to be yours,” he kept his voice low but he spoke with heat and emotion, “I would have learned to be okay with it but you dropped me so fast I didn’t even have time to get used to it,” Harry pushed himself back and ran a hand through his hair.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t know what to do. I still don’t. I have no idea what I’m doing at all. I feel evil. I feel like your feelings are far more important than mine,” she felt the first tear make a warm trail down her cheek and then as she blinked a second and third. “I’m sorry.”
Harry watched as she tried to hold back her emotion but he saw the tears on her face and he felt bad for his outburst but he was still so raw and angry from everything. “Please, don’t…” he softly brushed the back of his hand upward over her cheek to wipe her tears, “don’t cry. You’re gonna make me cry.”
She put her hand over his and closed her eyes, “I don’t want you to cry. You deserve to be happy, Harry.”
He shook his head and reached up to cup the other side of her face with his hand, “You don’t want me to cry? It’s all I’ve been doing. Every night for the past 19 days. I miss you, Y/n.”
She looked up at him, “I miss you too but you know we can’t… you deserve to be with someone you can have a real relationship with.”
Harry stepped in close and rested his forehead against hers, “Don’t want anyone but you.”
The world stopped and the only sound she could hear was her heart pumping in her chest. Having him so close to her was comforting and overwhelming all at the same time. It hurt but it felt good. She was confused. Maybe it had been a mistake to break up with him. Maybe that was the mistake.
“Harry?”
The pair separated quickly when they heard Leslie’s voice. Y/n’s face began to burn with embarrassment. She’d let it go too far. She hadn’t been in her right mind. Harry’s words and his eyes had her spinning and in a daze.
Leslie said something that Y/n couldn’t hear as her ears began to ring and regret blanketed her skin. She should never have allowed it to get that far. To let him touch her and stand so close… she knew better.
She looked between Harry and Leslie when Harry turned to whisper in her ear, “Will you come find me when you leave? I want to see you.”
Leslie’s face told Y/n everything she needed to know. Leslie was curious about what was going on. Suspicious. Leslie clearly liked Harry. And Harry could like Leslie too if it hadn’t been for Y/n.
Looking back at Harry she shook her head, “Harry… this can’t. No. We can’t.”
His hand wrapped around her wrist, “Yes, we can. Please don’t do this. Please, Y/n.”
“Leslie is right there, Harry. Go have fun with your friends. Pretend I’m not here.”
Harry stepped back and let go of her. He shook his head in disappointment, his eyes piercing into hers, “Fine.”
The way Leslie kept her eyes on Y/n until Harry pulled at her arm had Y/n feeling her guilt and shame bloom and swell.
She closed her eyes as Harry led Leslie out of the hallway and back into the main room of the club. It hurt too much to watch. She felt like she was back to day one when she broke up with him. She hoped that he’d begun to move on but he hadn’t. And neither had she.
“So what was that about?” Cyndee asked as Y/n slid back into the booth.
“He just had a question about our family vacation,” Y/n lied. She was glad the club was dark and the lights that illuminated could hide that she’d been crying. It was ridiculous. She was ridiculous.
Harry had effectively ruined her girl’s night out. Of course, it wasn’t totally his fault. He was in the same boat she was. And she tried not to let her eyes rove the features of the people dancing or standing at the periphery to perchance spot him again, but she couldn’t help it. She wanted to see him. Just another peek.
But Harry had moved so that she wouldn’t be able to lay her eyes on him, though he knew where she was and he continued to look toward the booth where she was sitting.
“Why do you keep looking over at your stepmom?” Leslie pulled him down so she could speak into his ear. He’d assured her that what she saw was just them talking and that it was loud so they had to stand that close. He said that Y/n had been upset about something. But Leslie wasn’t quite so sure. She’d seen his forehead pressed to hers. Had seen how he was cradling her face in his palms and how tense the moment was.
“Oh, didn’t realize I was. Just worried about her.”
And that was kind of the truth. He was worried about her. But not for reasons he could explain. Not to Leslie.
More alcohol. Shots, beer, martinis, dancing. A full hour had gone by. Y/n was on the dance floor again and trying to let the alcohol cover up her sadness but even in her state she couldn’t stop thinking about Harry. Especially when she’d finally caught sight of him on the dance floor. Especially when he was dancing with Leslie. Kissing Leslie. Hands on Leslie. Hips pressed to hers.
She swallowed down the jealousy the best she could. It was better to have Harry with someone his age. Someone who wasn’t his stepmom.
Marla danced with Y/n and kept asking if she was okay.
“I’m just trying to not think about it,” Y/n spoke into her friend’s ear as she watched Leslie’s hand sneak up the back of Harry’s shirt.
And it wasn’t that Harry wasn’t enjoying Leslie touching him and grinding against him. He thought Leslie was cute. He liked her. And in another world where he hadn’t gotten involved with Y/n, he’d be over the moon about where the night was leading. He’d already invited Leslie back to his dorm room, to which she enthusiastically said yes.
He was going to forget about Y/n the best he could. Do normal 21-year-old college guy shit and have sex with someone after a night out. He could see himself dating Leslie. Enjoying her company. And maybe he’d get over Y/n after enough time.
But it didn’t help that he couldn’t stop stealing glances at her. She was dancing near the other man. Not in a way that should have Harry feeling jealous but he couldn’t help that part. He was jealous. He didn’t think anyone should be near her. If he couldn’t have her then no one else should either.
“I’m right here, Harry,” Leslie put her arms up over his shoulders to pull his attention back to her. He didn’t know what he was doing. He was really trying to enjoy the girl he was dancing with and ignore the one he was not but it was almost impossible. He’d do almost anything to have the girl in his arms be Y/n rather than Leslie. To have Y/n’s hips glued to his, her eyes on him, her warm skin stuck against his…
When he looked at Y/n again and caught her gaze he caved. Maybe it was all the alcohol, or it was his jealousy, or his heart thinking for him rather than his brain but he put his hands over Leslie’s arms and moved her off of him, “I need to um...” he didn’t finish saying what he needed to do. But he knew it was a need. He had to convince Y/n of what he was already sure of himself.
Harry trudged through the sweaty bodies with his eyes on her and she watched him approach. His eyes were dark and his face set with a menacingly chilly expression.
He stood in front of her and pulled her in by her waist and she gasped, “What are you–“
“Dancing with my stepmom.” Harry began to sway and Y/n grasped onto his sturdy biceps, “Harry we can’t. Someone will see–“
“I don’t fucking care, Y/n,” He leaned in and spoke lowly into her ear, “Just listen. I want you. I don’t care if I’m just the side piece or whatever shit you want to call it. I fucking don’t care. Let it be messy. We’ll be together when my dad’s not around. I can give you what he can’t. Don’t punish yourself because you don’t think you deserve that. You do. We both do.”
She darted her eyes to Marla who was next to Harry before turning her head to respond to her stepson, “It doesn’t matter what we want. We can’t have that, Harry.”
His grip on her waist tightened, “We can and you know it. Unless you tell me you don’t want me. Tell me right now that you hated being with me and that you don’t miss me and I’ll leave you alone. Tell me all those things you told me about how you felt were just lies and I’ll never bother you again.”
She couldn’t help the way her body trembled as he spoke and the breath she let out bloomed over his neck. He knew she couldn’t deny it. He knew she wouldn’t take back what she said. And that was enough for him to feel like it wasn’t over.
“Harry…” she breathed his name as his thumbs dug into the material of her dress at her waist.
Suddenly it felt as if there was no one in the club except for them. She could feel his cheek against her temple, the whiskery bits scratching her skin. Their bodies moved together slowly as the next song came on.
When she felt his mouth move as he spoke she had been unable to stop the way her chest rose and fell deeply, pants leaving her mouth.
“You can’t because you need me just as much as I need you, Y/n. Fuck everyone else. I don’t care. Fuck my dad. Come home with me.”
And despite the pair forgetting about everyone around them, all their friends watched on as Y/n and Harry danced close, Harry's lips moving next to her ear, Y/n’s breaths deepening, her hands on his arms, his on her waist.
“Y/n,” Marla tapped her arm, and the sudden shock of being brought out of Harry’s spell was clear on her face when she looked from Harry to Marla. “We should get going. Okay?”
And that was it. He’d lost her again. She shook her head at Harry as she slipped out of his arms and pulled herself away from him and out of the club.
.           .           .
She had been thankful that Marla had come when she did. She was just about to give in. Just about to let the alcohol and Harry’s convincing words do all the thinking for her. She wanted to go with him. Wanted to just forget about it all. She wanted him. She could admit that. And part of her did need him. That was what was so hard. Because, yes, the sex was fun and she really loved it with Harry. But it had gone beyond sex. Their connection was deeper than just sex.
Waking up the next morning in her bed with Marla asleep next to her she felt crushed. Felt suffocated. She didn’t know how she was going to handle going on a vacation with him. Seeing him every day. She didn’t know if she was strong enough to stay away from him. Strong enough to keep denying herself or him.
She was in too deep and she knew that. She knew her feelings weren’t just physical. She knew it wasn’t just a phase. She knew that, to her, Harry was more than just a man she’d gotten involved with that she had begun to have some kind of attachment to.
It was more than that. And she knew it. But she just wasn’t ready to admit it to herself yet. Not aloud. Nor in her mind would she connect her thoughts and her feelings and recognize that one unmistakable emotion.
When they got back to Y/n’s house after that disaster of a girl’s night, Marla had given her a stern talking to. The truth. The reality.
“That was dumb, Y/n. Everyone watched you and Harry practically make out on the dance floor.”
“We didn’t kiss, Marla.”
“I know, but that was… very intimate. You might as well have had his tongue down your throat. He was talking with his lips on your ear and holding your body against his. It was obvious that it wasn’t just a friendly chat. And that girl he was with? Well, she saw it too and you should have seen the look on her face. Poor thing.”
Y/n knew that was what she deserved to hear. It was the truth and she had a moment of weakness. But Harry made her weak.
“I know. I’m just having a hard time not… I’m fucking so confused. I hate this.”
“You’ll feel better in the morning. Want me to stay the night? I’ll keep your phone away so you’re not drunk dialing him or something.”
And so that’s what happened. Marla was trying to help. She was a good friend. Y/n was thankful. But she also hated that she wasn’t waking up in Harry’s bed. Hated that she didn’t give in and that they couldn’t just be together. She wasn’t sure she’d ever get over him.
Harry’s stunt with Y/n had been the nail in the coffin with Leslie. She was planning on going back to his place. But after seeing the way he was behaving with Y/n, twice in one night was all she needed to see to know that there was something going on.
So he woke up in his bed alone thinking about Y/n. Thinking about how she didn’t deny the way she felt. But she still left him standing there like an idiot. He’d gone out on a limb and fucked up the sure thing he had with Leslie that night and wound up not getting any at all. His hope had soared and then crashed once again as he saw her look over her shoulder before stepping deeper into the crowd of people and out of sight.
.           .           .
The private villa Y/n selected was five bedrooms. Looking online at the photos of the property she hummed to herself as she imagined being dragged into Harry’s room and fucked against the door. He’d be angry with her for making them wait so long. He’d growl into her ear quietly about how she was his and how she needed him as he held his palm over her mouth to keep her quiet.
She swallowed and tried to push those dirty thoughts away. Leo was in his office as she was in her room imagining doing filthy things to his son. She couldn’t help it. Even though they hadn’t spoken since that night at the club she knew that they’d be seeing one another again soon. And that the private villa was spacious and there would be plenty of opportunity for them to have privacy.
For better or worse she couldn’t stop thinking about it and hoping they’d get the chance. She knew she shouldn’t think that way. But it was hard to stop those thoughts from taking over. Because she knew how he felt about her. She figured he’d try and convince her again and if it was just the two of them in a room with the door locked she wouldn’t say no. She wouldn’t be able to.
.           .           .
The airline lounge was quiet. There weren’t that many people to be seen at 5 am. Y/n sipped a latte and tried to distract herself by looking at her phone but she knew that Harry would show up soon with Tyler. She’d been unable to get much sleep the night before. Which was a shame because the flight with a layover was nearly a full day of travel.
They had a layover in Dublin and from there they’d fly into Corfu where they had ground transportation waiting to take them to their private villa on the ocean. She couldn’t wait to get to their destination.
“Harry texted. They just got through security,” Leo spoke suddenly.
Y/n nodded and looked back down at her phone, trying to act less affected than she was.
When Tyler and Harry arrived at the lounge they sat in a different area closer to the breakfast bar. Harry wore a baseball cap that covered his brown curls and he had his eyes closed until it was time to board their flight.
Y/n was glad that Harry and Tyler were not sitting near her and Leo on either flight. Traveling for nearly an entire day was already stressful enough. She didn’t need the extra tension of seeing Harry the entire time. She’d be getting enough of that in Greece.
.           .           .
The villa was even more gorgeous in person. The terrace was massive with lovely little lights attached to the outdoor canopies and was set on a hill that overlooked the ocean bay. The pool was huge and the property was totally private, surrounded by olive trees and plenty of land for them to explore if they chose. The interior of the villa was rustic but chic. The stone walls and floors with arched doorways and high ceilings with wooden beams were stunning. Every bedroom in the place had a view of the bay. It was literally quite breathtaking.
Leo and Y/n’s room was massive with a large window and terrace and hammocks swaying in the wind. Plants gave them some privacy but Y/n shuddered when she thought about that. She didn’t know how this vacation would go down. If Leo would want sex. He probably would. He was already relaxed and in quite high spirits she could tell.
Y/n was already in a cute bikini by the time Harry and Tyler had come outside to enjoy the terrace and pool and the view. She had her eyes closed, lying flat on her back on one of the lounge chairs.
But Harry wasn’t going to give her anything. He was going to act like he couldn’t care less about her presence or her body or what they’d gone through. If she could act so nonchalant about it so could he.
When Y/n heard the guys jump into the pool she sat up and glanced at Harry’s strong chest before turning her gaze away to watch the gorgeous view of the sea. It was difficult, though, to not let her eyes drag over his pecs and to his tattoos. His arms and his shoulders.
He looked happy. He was laughing with Tyler and seemed relaxed. And that was a good thing. Yes, it was better that he was happy rather than upset about the way things had ended.
Leo jumped into the pool with Harry and Tyler suddenly, the three of them laughing and enjoying the first official day of their vacation.
And Harry could tell that ignoring her was already working. He didn’t look at her but he could feel her eyes on him. He could tell she was trying not to look but failing.
“Thinking about going out tomorrow night. There’s a really nice bar in town. You’d be okay with that if just me and Tyler went?” Harry spoke to Leo but loud enough for Y/n to hear.
Y/n looked down into her lap and tried not to frown. Tried not to let her emotions take over her face. She didn’t know if this was payback or if Harry was actually trying to just move on. Or… perhaps it was just a ploy to make her needy of his usual attention.
“Of course! The driver can take you wherever you need to go and bring you back too. I expected that you and Tyler would want to go out and meet some girls or something.” Leo laughed.
Y/n pouted before blinking her eyes shut and trying to ignore the conversation. She didn’t want to even think about Harry meeting anyone. But what a selfish thing to consider. Her fantasies of Harry begging her to be with him or dragging her to his room slowly began to fade with the reality of the situation. She needed to let it go.
Bedtime came early. Everyone was exhausted from the long trip. Harry had still barely spared her a glance, though he did politely offer her the bottle of wine to refill her glass. But that was it. It was quite the blow to her ego. She figured that was what she deserved, though.
Tyler knocked at Harry’s cracked open door before stepping into his room, “You doing all that on purpose?” He gestured toward the door behind him.
“What do you mean?” Harry’s smirk gave away that he knew just what Tyler was talking about.
His friend cocked his head at Harry and rolled his eyes as he walked deeper into the room and sat on the edge of Harry’s bed, “What do you think I mean?”
Harry shrugged, “Just want to have some fun while I’m here on vacation. Trying not to think about Y/n or anything.”
“Dude you’re so full of shit. You had the chance to do that when we went out to the club but instead, you scared Leslie off for good trying to get with your stepmom in front of everyone.”
Harry shook his head, “Today’s a new day. She doesn’t want me so I’m just gonna have some fun.”
.           .           .
Y/n woke up before anyone else and made coffee. The place was beautiful. She couldn’t get over how bright and paradisiac the place was.
But even with how lovely the villa was… she tried not to pay much mind to the little voice in her head that told her Harry was doing it on purpose. That he was trying to make her jealous. Make her miss him. Make her eat her words about him finding someone his age to be with.
She’d gotten lucky that Leo was so tired the night before. He did kiss her goodnight, though. She rarely got that from him. But she knew he’d want something. He was in way too good of a mood the night before. She could tell he was going to want a roll in the sack soon.
She thought that with Harry and Tyler out that evening it would be a good time. It would be much easier to go along with it if Harry wasn’t nearby. She could pretend to be into it. Maybe he’d go down on her and she could pretend–“
“Up so early.” His raspy, deep morning voice was maybe her favorite sound. Ever. Her cheeks immediately warmed up at his voice coming from behind her, cutting her off from her thoughts.
She turned and watched as he walked around the large stone table to pour himself a cup of coffee.
“Yeah. I got to sleep right away and slept hard. Woke up and felt like I’d had enough rest.” She sipped her coffee as she watched Harry turn around with a mug, take three long-legged strides toward the table and sit down right next to her.
Without looking away from her he took a drink from his cup and Y/n continued to speak to fill in the awkward silence, “So, anyway. And you’re up early. Did you get enough rest?”
Harry smiled thoughtfully as he placed his mug down, “Sure. Slept pretty well. Fell asleep pretty quickly.”
He didn���t miss it when she mentioned that she got to sleep right away. To him, that meant that nothing happened between her and his dad the night before. Which of course he felt relieved by. He tried not to wonder when the last time they slept together was.
Y/n nodded, “Good. I think it’s so peaceful here too. Maybe that’s why we slept so well.” Her smile was genuine and her eyes told Harry she was taking all of him in. Soaking up his presence. Want. Longing.
Good.
“Well, I mean I’ve slept better before. Can think of a couple of times in particular. Ya know?” Harry raised his brows knowingly and licked his lips.
She softly nodded her head and the smallest smile broke out on her lips, “Yeah.” Memories of just how well they could sleep after the kind of intense sex they always seemed to have filled her thoughts.
Neither of them budged from their spot as they kept their eyes agaze on the other.
It was quiet and soft. She could stare into his eyes all day if she were allowed. She wanted to reach across the space to him and pull his shirt collar to bring him down for a kiss but she wouldn’t He wished she would.
Their moment was interrupted when they heard footsteps, quickly both taking their mugs in hand and sipping the hot liquid.
“Morning, early risers,” Leo yawned and stretched his arms overhead.
Tyler didn’t wake up until nearly noon. Y/n stayed most of the morning in a hammock by the pool reading while Harry sauntered around in only athletic shorts, baring his chest and abs. She was glad to have a book to read to distract her from the expanse of his skin littered with inky sketchings. The last thing she needed was to have Leo see her ogling his son.
After Harry and Tyler had left the big villa felt odd. It wasn’t that she hadn’t been used to being in such a large dwelling. Leonardo’s home was nearly as big. It was that the sudden weight of what she knew was coming felt paralyzing. She wasn’t going to be able to get out of this one she knew. Sure she could just say she didn’t want to have sex but that’s what she’d been doing far too frequently lately.
And just like she knew would happen, Leo was pulling her into his chest and trying to talk dirty to her. Two months ago it would have been welcomed.
“They’re gone for the night. What do you say we have a little fun?”
Y/n plastered a fake smile on her lips and drew her hands up over his shoulders, “What did you have in mind?”
“Haven’t felt you in a while. Missed you.” Leo pushed his mouth over hers and she closed her eyes and tried to shift her thoughts from the moment. Tried imagining she was doing anything else. Playing tennis with her trainer Margaret, swimming in the pool, shopping for new shoes…
But by the time they’d gotten into their bed, it was getting difficult to imagine that anything else was happening. So she switched tactics. It was Harry kissing her neck and pulling her clothes down and exposing her breaths. It was Harry whispering to her how pretty she was and what he wanted to do to her.
When he’d slid her panties off and he was bare between her legs she pushed herself up by her elbows and looked at his cock and gulped hard, but not out of lust or want. This wasn’t Harry and it was obvious. It was hard to trick herself that she was kissing Harry and touching his naked body when it wasn’t him. She didn’t want Leo. Not anymore. Not at all.
She blinked her eyes at him and grinned as she placed her palm over his dick before he could put on a condom, “Let me suck you off. Haven’t done that in a long time. And then you can come on my tits or something.” She figured a blow job didn’t feel as dirty as sex. Though choking on a cock was not fun when she wasn’t into it, it felt better than having sex with him, though.
And it wasn’t fun. Leo was well endowed and she had to work for him to come. He kept trying to pull her off so he could fuck her but she insisted that she wanted to get him off with her mouth.
She half regretted the route she’d taken. It probably would have been much faster if she’d just let him fuck her. He would have nutted in under ten minutes and she could fake an orgasm easily and that would be that. But instead, it took nearly double that for him to begin shaking with his release bursting down her throat before she pulled off of him and stroked him over her tits and tummy.
It was also no surprise to her that he didn’t even try to offer her anything once he was done. Which she was thankful for. This was one of those times she was relieved that he was a selfish lover.
.           .           .
Y/n startled awake when she heard Harry and Tyler stumble toward their rooms, with attempts to keep their voices down but failing quite miserably. It was just after 1 am. But when she heard the giggle of a female voice she sat up and strained her ears to listen closer.
Had they brought girls back with them?
She heard stomping and laughing then shushing before one door closed and then seconds later another. She considered going to stand outside of Harry’s door and pressing her ear to the wood to listen. But that was insane. He deserved privacy if he did bring a girl back. And that would be a good thing if he had (this seemed to be her mantra lately). A good thing for him to have some fun. With someone that wasn’t Y/n. That’s what she told herself anyway. In reality, it made her want to vomit.
She laid her head back onto the pillow and sighed. She closed her eyes and tried to let her mind think of anything but what might be happening in Harry’s room. She didn’t want to think about him joking around with another girl in that flirty confident way he does, taking her dress off, kissing the exposed parts of her skin as he lowered the fabric down over her hips. She couldn’t let herself imagine him with his soft raspberry lips doing things to some other girl that he’d done to her. And certainly, she refused to picture him having sex and coming on her tummy when they realized they forgot the condom because they were too caught up and horny.
She hated it. Hated the idea of any of that. Hated being jealous. Hated that she wasn’t being snuck into his room to do all of those things with him.
But the silence was a gift. She could hear nothing from their room and so she eventually convinced herself that she’d only imagined hearing a female’s voice, that there hadn’t been girls with them. And that thought was the only thing that helped her ease back into sleep.
.           .           .
When she finally woke up the following morning she had a feeling of dread and sadness in her tummy. Leo was already up as his side of the bed was empty.
She didn’t want to get up and walk into the kitchen and find two pretty girls sitting with coffee while Tyler sat next to one and Harry the other. Then it would be real. Because she had convinced herself that she’d only imagined hearing things the night before. But she knew what she heard. The distinct voice of a female, maybe two. She hoped she was wrong.
Freshening up her sleepy appearance first she put her messy hair into a ponytail and splashed her face with water. Her pajamas were cute. Little silky shorts and a tank top. It was her regular sleepwear. She had no idea what she was about to encounter but at least if she was going to see the young woman that got a taste of Harry the night before she could look somewhat cute.
But then she heard Leo’s voice. The window in the bathroom faced the balcony of their bedroom. She hadn’t seen him out on the balcony when she went into the bathroom so he must have been standing at the far corner away from where he could be spotted.
“I miss you, honey. I know…” his voice was quiet and soft. He never spoke to Y/n that way. He seemed so gentle with her. Sounded so malleable. So tender.
He chuckled breathily and spoke, “12 more days, Parker. Wish it was you here with me…”
She looked at herself in the mirror and shook her head. What had she gotten herself into? The man she was married to was clearly in love or falling in love with another woman. Y/n wasn’t upset that Leo was finding love with someone else. Y/n didn’t love Leo. But everything felt so fleeting suddenly. So finite. Things weren’t always as they seemed and now she was hyper-aware that the kind of agreement she had might be coming to an end.
She took a deep breath as she walked out of the bathroom, not needing to hear anything else from Leo to understand what was happening, and braced herself for what she might encounter in the kitchen.
But what she found when she got there was not quite what she’d imagined. There was indeed a young woman. Harry was seated at the table with his head drooped down and a mug of coffee in his hands while on the opposite side was Tyler sitting next to a sleepy girl. It was clear that the girl was with Tyler. Though, that didn’t mean there wasn’t another girl somewhere. Perhaps even still lying in Harry’s bed.
Harry appeared to be painfully hungover.
“Morning,” Y/n spoke as she eyed Tyler and the girl.
Everyone’s eyes were suddenly on Y/n.
Tyler cleared his throat, “This is Alex. We’re just waiting on the car to get here so she can go home.”
“So soon? You can stay for breakfast if you like,” Y/n smiled at the girl as she poured coffee for herself.
“Oh that is so kind of you but I have to be at work soon.”
Y/n glanced at Harry who couldn’t even force a smile onto his face. She wanted to ask if there was another girl in the house somewhere but based on Harry’s appearance she thought she knew the answer to that question.
Once Alex left Y/n tasked herself with making a big breakfast for everyone. Cooking made her happy and she figured if the guys were both hungover they’d want something to eat to soak up all the alcohol from the previous night. And also just the knowledge that Harry hadn’t brought a girl home, made everything in her own tummy settle and she was feeling quite peckish as well.
Y/n learned that Harry had gotten on a table and danced the macarena after housing some girl's martini. The girl was apparently into Harry but then he’d gotten quite trashed and that’s when Tyler suggested they head home. With Alex in tow of course.
“Shut up, dude,” Harry grumbled his words.
“Totally blew your shot with her man! And the funniest part of it was that she was so pissed that you drank her drink in one go. Like you just yanked it from her hand, gulped the whole thing down, and then climbed on the table and–“
Harry punched Tyler’s shoulder, “Shut. Up.”
After breakfast, Harry lay by the pool fully clothed. In fact, Y/n was quite sure he was wearing the same clothes as he had been the night before.
Y/n hated that this news made her happy. Hated that she felt smug that he’d gotten too drunk to bring a girl home. Hated that that idea improved her mood at all. But it did.
She was cleaning up the dishes and putting the leftovers away when Leo walked into the kitchen and clapped his hands together, “Today is a beach day. The boys can nurse their hangovers by the sea.”
Most of the morning had been wasted at the villa with Harry trying to recover and get his shit together before they could finally head to the bay.
The water was deep blue and the sky above was bright and clear. The beach had chairs with sun umbrellas all along the shore. They found a few chairs together and draped towels over them.
Harry seemed to be feeling better. Especially when two girls came up to greet him. It was clear they both were interested in Harry. Tyler was an attractive guy too, but Harry was… well he was Harry.  
The girls were from Italy and spoke English perfectly. They were pretty with pretty hair, pretty skin, pretty lips, and pretty accents.
Watching Harry flirt sucked. She didn’t know any other way to feel about it. She tried to pretend she didn’t notice. But it was impossible being that they were only a few chairs away. She could hear everything too. The girls were giggling and Harry was being cheeky and cute, trying to say something to them in Italian and they ate it up, correcting his words and making him repeat but it seemed to only endear them to him even more.
Harry wore a pair of short green swim trunks that did little to hide his tight ass and strong thighs. Tattoos on full show, lean and well-muscled torso flaunted. Harry knew he was attractive. It shouldn’t have come as a surprise that the girls introduced themselves to Harry and Tyler.
Y/n let her sun hat slip over her eyes as she laid back and tried to focus on the sound of the waves in the ocean and not the flirtatious laughter coming from Harry’s direction.
“Will you rub sunscreen on my back, Y/n? Feel like I didn’t get enough toward the shoulders,” Leo put his hand on Y/n’s arm to get her attention.
She scooted in behind Leo on his beach chair to reapply sunscreen to his back but with the angle she was at she had a better view of the boys.
Harry was draped casually on his chair. His smile drew deep dimples into his cheeks and the tiger tattoo on his thigh was being traced by the girl sitting next to him on his chair. They were no longer laughing but speaking quietly to one another.
She watched as the young woman pointed to his butterfly tattoo and Harry took her hand and urged her to put the pad of her finger along the lines of the ink.
Harry could tell Y/n was watching. He did feel a little bad. Just a little, though. Because he wasn’t interested in the pretty Italian girl with her hands on his skin, which was a bit rude of him. And he was reveling in the fact that Y/n might be getting jealous. Also rude of him.  
But when he did finally allow his sight to take his stepmom in he noticed that his dad was rubbing lotion on her back and shoulders. He watched fingers graze along the side of her boobs and noted how his dad was grinning and whispering into Y/n’s ear.
Y/n was holding her hair to the side so it didn’t get sunscreen all over it and her other arm was out in front, palm flat on the chair between her legs so she was slightly bent at the waist. Her cleavage nearly spilled out of her yellow bikini top.
He didn’t like the way Leo was touching her or how Y/n was grinning at whatever was being said.
Harry took the girl's wrist and pulled her hand higher, now pressing her palm over the sparrow on his right pec.
“You work out a lot,” the girl spoke as she looked at Harry with her big brown eyes. She wanted more he could tell.
Harry turned his attention back to the girl fully and shook his head, “Just a few times a week. You obviously work out too.”
Y/n could pull the girl’s hair out. Her hands were on his pecs, feeling the firm muscle that Y/n enjoyed kissing and touching herself. But the worst was the way Harry was looking at the girl. His eyes dragged down her body as he spoke quietly to her. And when he pinched her thigh and she laughed loudly, hopping up from the chair, Harry followed after her and they ran playfully toward the water.
“Want a drink? I was thinking about bringing back some wine or something. There’s a shop just over there.” Leo spoke as Y/n stood up and moved back into her own chair.
“Yeah. Maybe some wine would be good.”
.           .           .
Leo had had a bit too much to drink. And Y/n hated, hated to think it, but it meant he’d pass out and would be unlikely to try anything with her. She could avoid sex with him. At least that evening.
It also meant, much to her devious delight, that Harry and Tyler had to bid adieu to the lovely young ladies, but not before getting some contact information so they could meet up later. Y/n needed their help to get Leo back to the villa in one piece.
Tyler was already setting up plans for that night to see Gia by the time they helped Leo to bed.
“Dude they’re both gonna be there tonight. Gia and Bambi.”
Yeah. The girl that Harry had been flirting with was named Bambi. Of course, that was her name. She was adorable with long legs and big brown eyes. She could pass for a Bambi.  
“I don’t know, man. We just went out last night. I got so wasted and sick. Not sure I’m into it.”
“Really? Bambi was all over you. She wants to see you. You don’t have to drink, H. You know that right?” Tyler laughed.
Y/n was not purposely listening. She just happened to be in the kitchen wiping the countertops as the guys were in the sunroom connected to the kitchen. The fact that she could hear was totally a coincidence. Totally.
“Nah. You go. It’s fine.”
There was a pause for a beat and Y/n strained to hear if they were speaking. Whispering perhaps?
When Tyler responded his voice was much quieter so Y/n wiped her way toward the stone island in the center and perked her ears.
“It’s because of Y/n. Isn’t it? I know you’re still hung up on her but you gotta move on.”
“Tyler, I just don’t feel like going.”
“You’re not gonna be mad if I do then?”
Smiling to herself she moved away from the island and tossed the rag into the sink. Harry wasn’t going out to meet up with Bambi. She shouldn’t have been pleased with that but she was.
Tyler left after the sun had already gone down. Y/n hadn’t heard a single peep from Leo when she settled onto the terrace with a book and the yellow bikini she’d been wearing at the beach. Even at night, the weather in Corfu was warm.
Harry had been in the kitchen for a bit on his phone and then he disappeared for a while. She wished that things could be easy between them. Go back to how they were before.
But when he strutted out to the terrace and walked in front of her before splashing into the pool she was a little surprised that he’d come out with her at all. She thought perhaps he’d keep his distance. But of course, she knew better. She knew he wouldn’t.
And like they had been doing, mostly effectively since arriving in Greece, they ignored one another. Harry swam laps and Y/n read her mystery book and the stars twinkled down on their little paradise by the beach.
Y/n connected her cellphone to the speaker and put on music she had in her saved favorites. A random mix really.
Harry watched her walk across the stones to the outdoor mini fridge and pull out a bottle of beer before turning to Harry with a brow raised, “Want a beer?”
He nodded as he pulled himself out of the water and began to walk toward her. Droplets trickled down his skin and dripped from his trunks that were hung low on his hips.
She did well not to stare at his wet body as she handed him the cold bottle.
“Surprised you didn’t go out with Tyler. Seemed like you would have enjoyed seeing that girl tonight.” Y/n spoke as she sat down on the chair next to her book.
She immediately regretted asking. It made her look desperate, jealous. But perhaps she was.
Harry took the lounge next to hers and put his feet up as he took a swig from the bottle.
“Yeah. I would have enjoyed seeing her. She was really nice.”
“So why didn’t you? This is your vacation, Harry. You should enjoy it.”
Harry leaned his head back into the chair and turned to look at Y/n, “I am enjoying it. Maybe another night I’ll go out. Last night was too much for me.”
They sat silently for a bit as Y/n picked her book back up and tried to concentrate on the words on the page but her mind was racing.
When the next song came on, it had changed the mood entirely. A slow song and the lyrics were maybe somewhat ironic given their circumstance.
Harry stood from his chair and stretched his arms overhead before taking down the last of his beer.
“You done with yours?” He gestured toward her bottle.
“Oh. Yeah. Thanks, Harry.” She was about to pick up the bottle to hand to him but he reached across her and picked it up. Their faces coming within just inches. He’d done it on purpose. But she didn’t say anything as he straightened himself and took the bottles to the trash.
She looked back down at her book but the lyrics of the song and Harry’s fit body were far more interesting to her.
“You’re staring,” Harry spoke with a smile.
Y/n scoffed and rolled her eyes, “No. No, I’m not.” But she didn’t remove her eyes from his frame as she grinned.
Harry kept his gaze set on hers as he adjusted his swim trunks, plucking at the fabric near his crotch where the lining was irritating his skin. He’d done that on purpose too. A reminder to her of what she was missing out on.
She tried not to imagine him without the shorts. She knew what he looked like underneath.
Blinking her eyes she looked down at her lap and took a breath.
“So, Tyler’s having fun. He brought that girl back yesterday and now he’s out with another tonight. Quite the ladies' man,” Y/n tried changing the subject or at least the trajectory of where her mind was beginning to wander.
“Yeah, I guess so,” Harry shrugged as he plopped back down onto the chair and stretched his arms behind his head. “Kind of funny…” Harry chuckled, not finishing his thought.
Y/n turned to look at him, “What’s funny?”
Harry’s bright eyes binged on her exposed skin, “Cause I should be out with him. Bambi was cute. Coulda had fun. Yet here I am.”
Nodding she turned to face him, putting her feet onto the stone below the chair, “You should have gone. It would have been good. You can still go you know.” “Would it be? Is that what you want?” Harry mimicked her stance, turning himself and putting his feet onto the stone, their knees facing one another.
“What I want? What do you mean?”
Harry’s pink lips opened and then closed as he considered his words, “Want me to go out and have fun with someone else? Someone who’s not you?”
Y/n shook her head and looked away from his deep gaze. Of course, she didn’t want that. What she wanted wasn’t fair. Wasn’t right.
She stood up so she could pace. To put some distance between her and Harry because even though he was a couple of feet from her it was too close. But she didn’t get far when she felt his hand on her hip and he was standing over her, “That’s what you want?”
It wasn’t fair. Her feelings weren’t fair. The way he felt for her wasn’t fair. Nothing about their situation was fair.
She looked up at him and the slow riff of the new song made their proximity feel even more intense. It just wasn’t fair.
“Stop, Harry. You already know the answer.”
When his other hand landed on her hip and pulled her in so she couldn’t back away from him he nodded his head, “I do know the answer. That’s why I’m here. With you. Because we want the same thing. Don’t we?”
She dropped her eyes toward his chest, just about where his heart would be. The heart she longed to keep for herself. The most tender heart she’d ever known.
She nodded her answer but did not look up at him. Because it wasn’t fair. Her answer wasn’t fair. His feelings weren’t fair.
“See? You’re just torturing yourself, Y/n. Torturing me. I need you in a way I’ve never needed anything, and I know it’s the same for you. Please look at me.”
Harry didn’t know he could be so relentless about something. He was generally very easygoing and didn’t bother to push anyone in the way he did with Y/n. But it was different. Because he knew they had something special. Something rare.
Slowly she gave in and looked up at him again, bringing her hands up to his chest, palms flat. He looked down at her hands and then back up to her eyes, “Can you feel my heart?”
She nodded as Harry took one of his hands and pressed it over the back of hers to hold her palm in place. The unmistakable frenzied thudding of his muscular organ below vibrated against her skin, “It doesn’t do that with anyone else. Not like this.”
She didn’t want to cry. Didn’t want to let her feelings overwhelm her like they had been since she broke it off. Wanted to keep strong. Didn’t want to give in. Didn’t want to not give in.
“I know you feel the same way. Why are you doing this?”
She let out a shaky breath and blinked her eyes, “Because we can’t.”
“Y/n… I’m…” he shook his head and took a deep breath, “I need you to be honest. Because I can’t keep doing this to myself. I’m going crazy. Tell me you don’t want me.”
“That’s not fair.” Her words were a whisper.
“If you can’t tell me you don’t want me I’m never gonna be able to move on from you, Y/n.”
Harry brought his hands up to her face, not allowing her the chance to look away from him.
“I can’t.”
“Y/n… there’s not a single part of me that doesn’t want every single part of you. It’s only going to get worse. Tell me now you don’t want me. Before I kiss you.” His nose was pressed into her cheekbone as he closed his eyes. He could tell her breath was deepening. Her fingers softly stroked the skin and hair of his chest.
“Harry… please… don’t…” she couldn’t ever tell him she didn’t want him. She should tell him so that they could put an end to all of it. Tell him she never wanted him. Tell him it never meant anything to her. But how could she when that was the furthest thing from the truth? Her heart couldn’t let her speak those things aloud to him. Couldn’t utter those lies.
“Say it and I’ll stop. Say it, Y/n. Put me out of misery. Let me move on if you don’t want me. Say it and I’ll leave you alone for good.”
“It’s not that simple.”
Harry’s lips found the edge of Y/n’s mouth and his muttered words sent a shock through her soul, “Y/n, I love you.”
She gasped and pushed at him, her eyes wide as she shook her head, “No you don’t. Don’t say that!”
Pulling herself from his hold she turned and quickly walked back inside to get away. She needed to break down and cry and scream into a pillow and stomp her feet… anything to stop her veins from overflowing with him. Anything from stopping herself from responding to him in kind.
“Y/n!” Harry walked after her and followed her into the stairwell as she ascended as quickly as her legs would carry her. But Harry’s legs were longer and he was not letting her get away.
“Don’t run away from me, please!”
She pushed her way into a spare room and tried shoving the door closed but Harry’s strong body blocked the door as he forced his way in and closed it behind himself. The dark room was illuminated by the moon and the twinkle lights strung up over the terrace.
“Harry stop. You don’t mean it. You’re… you’re confused… it’s–“
His hands found her waist in the dark and he pulled her into his arms. He pressed his face into her hair, lips close to her ear, “I’m not confused. I’m in love with you.”
She had given in to her tears already. It was too much. Having his arms around her and his skin against hers, his voice, his words. I love you.
She melted into his arms and pressed her wet cheek against his chest as she cried.
Harry was gentle. His hands caressed her back as he allowed her to cry in his arms. He knew he was being bold by telling her how he really felt but he needed her to know. He wanted her to admit her feelings to him. She couldn’t say she didn’t want him because she did want him and he was sure she felt the exact same way for him that he did for her.
“Please, Y/n. If you can’t tell me you don’t want me I’m never gonna stop. I don’t care about the consequences. I don’t care if we get caught or if we keep it a secret forever. I just… I love you. I need you.”
Harry’s shorts were mostly dry by that point. Y/n felt the fabric against her hips as he tightened around her the slightest, his warm breath over her ear, “I love you.”
What was she supposed to do? How was she supposed to just push him away and ignore it all? It was already impossible, but now with his confession, she couldn’t do anything but let her heart crack open wide and allow him in. His warmth and kind heart smothered her resolve. Drowned it until it was gone.
“Goddamnit, Harry.” She spoke with her mouth smashed over his skin.
He put his hands on her face and turned her head up to look at him in the shadowy room, “I’m gonna kiss you. Tell me right now if you don’t want me to but I can’t go one more minute without it,” he whispered his words as he dipped down slowly.
Her silence was his answer and when his lips smoothed over hers their moans of acceptance meshed together with mouths moving in synch.
She had missed his kiss. His breath. His tongue.
When he felt her fingers glide into his curls he thought he might pass out. He didn’t know if this was only for the night or if it meant forever, or maybe just something in between. But it was clear she was his in that moment.
She could feel him under his shorts, thickening up quickly. And that flipped a switch in her right away. She’d been denying him of everything. He might have flirted with some girls during their break but he hadn’t been with anyone. He was hers. Every part of him belonged to her and how could she ever refuse him again? To deprive him of what he wanted, needed felt abusive. She never wanted to hurt him.
“I’m sorry, Harry…” she spoke against his lips as she pushed him toward the bed. Her legs were about to give out from the adrenaline rushing through her veins. She needed to be in his lap or lying next to him so they could be closer. She needed him closer. “I was wrong to break up with you.”
Harry gasped at her words and when he felt her pushing him toward the mattress he stepped back and pulled her with him, their lips never parting.
He hoisted her up over his body as he sat on the bed and slid himself into the center and up to the headboard keeping her with him as he went.
Y/n settled her thighs over his and kept her mouth on his, “I want you. I’ve always wanted you, Harry. I’m so sorry…”
His hands were shaky as he hugged her tight. He hoped this meant for good. He hoped she wouldn’t regret this again. He had never regretted it.
“You mean it?” Harry kissed her softly before parting from the kiss and putting his hands on her hips.
Y/n nodded and scratched his scalp gently, “I mean it. I’m not done with you. I could never be. I was wrong when I thought it would be better to be apart.”
“Promise me? You’re not gonna leave me again?”
Leaning forward she nudged her nose into his and brought her hands down to cup his face, “I promise you. Never again. It was stupid. I need you, Harry.”
The whine that left his throat when she rocked her hips down over him had blood rushing to her limbs and she pulled at him to move his back away from the headboard before pushing him flat to lie down, “You need me too, don’t you, baby? Need me to take care of you?” She rolled her hips over his bulge and he nodded and breathed out the word yes.
“Poor thing. I’ve been so bad to you. I’m gonna spend so much time making it up to you. I promise, Harry.”
“Please, Y/n.”
“Missed you, Harry. Missed this…” she pecked his lips and then kissed her way down his jaw, neck, his pecs, and sternum. Her mouth left small wet spots as she moved and whispered over his skin, “I’m sorry for all of it, baby.”
Harry arched his back when she licked her tongue along the ridges of his abs and he whimpered, “I need you. I need you now.”
She smiled and looked up at him. They both had tears in their eyes but things had shifted quickly. Instead of uncertainty and grief their hearts were reacting with love and devotion. Y/n would show him her devotion the best she could.
She put her palms on his pecs and sat up to look him over, “So pretty. So perfect for me, Harry. I was dumb to think I could suppress my feelings for you.”
Harry brought his hands up to her low back and smoothed his palms downward over her bottom. Her little bikini was flimsy and so it was easy for Harry’s thumbs to slip under the fabric so he could keep hold of her.
She needed the moment to take him in. There was just enough light to see his face and torso, to see his lips parted and his chest rising and falling.
“You know that I’m yours too, right? You’re the only one who has my heart, Harry.”
Harry let out a quivering breath as he squeezed her bottom and in a strained voice spoke barely above a whisper, “Say it again.”
Settling herself over his hips and leaning down to put her lips close to his ear and her palm over his heart she spoke, “I’m yours. I love you, Harry.”
The moment she whispered those words into his ears, Harry felt like his heart would give out, like his nervous system was going to shut down… his ears became muffled as blood rushed to his head and his heart pumped viciously in his chest. His breath caught in his throat and he began to melt and sink down into the mattress and through the floor into the cement foundation of the room below and then into the earth. But as long as he had her in his arms he was alive and in love. He was safe with her heart and her words.
She felt his grip tighten on her bottom but he said nothing as the moment had him spinning and sinking and soaring.
She kissed his soft lips and he suddenly jolted back into his body with a moan as he opened his mouth wide against hers. It was as if her lips were a defibrillator to his heart.
He bent his knees slightly and bucked up toward her, keeping his hands on her to hold her down. He wasn’t going to let her go.
She rocked her hips over him slowly as they kissed and licked wetly.
Harry’s dick was in an uncomfortable position in his trunks and the lining was scraping the skin as Y/n pressed her crotch over him. And as if she’d somehow read his mind, she pushed against his hands that were holding her bum and reached between them to push his shorts down and free his length from its confines.
When he sighed she cooed at him, “Feels better like that, doesn’t it? You’re too big to be smushed in there like that.”
Harry wanted to just thrust into her and fuck her from his spot on the mattress, holding her down and make her take him. He was desperate to feel her but he knew she was in charge. She was going to make it worth the wait. But he was shaky and leaking, “Y/n, please…” He didn’t even know exactly what he was asking for but he wanted anything.
“Yes, Harry. I know… Tell me what you need, baby. I just want to make you happy. Want you to feel so good.”
Harry pulled at the fabric of her bikini bottom and the hint was loud enough that she understood just what he wanted.
“Want these off? Yeah?” She kissed his mouth and gently brushed the crotch of her bikini bottoms over his cock.
Harry nodded and groaned, “Yes. Off…”
Y/n pushed herself up but Harry’s big hands wouldn’t let go of her bottom so she put her palms over the top of his hands and pried them off, “Need to let me go so I can get these off for you, baby. Will you let go?”
Harry whined but he did as she said.
Y/n got to her knees between his legs and first removed her top and then slowly slid her bottoms down her legs as Harry sat up and pushed his trunks the rest of the way off his body, but the moment she was completely bare he pulled her back into his chest, not wanting to have any space in between their bodies for a moment longer.
She giggled at the abrupt force of him pulling at her but then her mouth was covered by his, rendering her silent as he slowly moved his lips, savoring her taste and her skin on his.
The feel of her body draped over him, her hips and her bottom under his palms, her thighs spreading for him to have access to anything he wanted… Euphoria.
He reached down further, letting his digits glide down her bottom to the back of her thighs and then in toward her pussy that was pressed to his shaft. He let the pads of his fingers feel her soft skin over his hard erection, the tiny swivel of her hips to keep them connected was seductive.
She felt his fingers reaching behind her gently stroking her crease so she moved herself the slightest to feel the tip of his finger dip inside. The motion caused their lips to part and Harry let out a low moan.
Putting her hands on his chest she pushed herself up and sat over his finger making it reach deeper inside, “I want another Harry,” she panted as she rolled her hips onto his hand.
Harry groaned as he pulled his finger out and then thrust two inside of her. She was doing most of the work. He hardly had to move his fingers or hand at all with the way she was writhing over him.
“Missed your hands and your fingers so much, Harry.”
“I missed you, Y/n.”
She continued rocking into his hand, wetting his palm and making his fingers sticky with herself. Her clit was pressed to Harry’s frenulum giving him that decadent sensation of her pussy gliding over him gently that he missed so much.
Y/n reached around and pulled at his hand to bring his fingers out of her and she lifted his wrist toward his mouth, pushing his fingers onto his tongue, “That’s yours, baby.”
Harry closed his eyes at the taste as he felt her move down his body before wrapping her hand around his shaft.
She licked his tip and kissed the thick vein on the underside. Harry gasped and groaned and pushed himself up to reach for her, pulling her face upward so she would look at him, “Please, Y/n. I need to be inside of you so bad.”
Y/n grinned, grasping his wrist as she turned her face to kiss his palm, “Need to feel my pussy around you?”
Harry nodded as she climbed back over his body and smoothed her soaked cunt over his length, “Anything you want, baby.”
When she angled her hips over him and pushed down over his thick crown Harry let out a loud and guttural moan. Too loud.
And while Leo was probably still passed out, Y/n didn’t need to have this moment interrupted by anyone. She continued to sink over him as she put her palm over his mouth, “Shhh… this is just for you and me. Okay? Be a good boy and keep quiet so I can fuck you without anyone else hearing.”
It was nirvana to be connected with him again. To feel his thick tip being pushed inside her body, splitting her down the center in smooth strokes, nudging and gliding into her g-spot with each roll of her hips. And even with Y/n’s palm covering his mouth the sound of what was going on in the room was quite blatant. She was filthy wet over his cock, slick and sticky as she fucked herself down on him, pushing him into her guts. The bed started off with the smallest rattle from the metal frame and turned into a repetitive clunking thud on the floors as she rocked her hips over his harder. Even with their silence, the atmosphere in the room was sex and elation. They were finally together again and their bodies were celebrating the joy their hearts felt.
She was already chasing her own orgasm after only a handful of minutes of having him inside of her but she wanted to drag it out. Make it last. They had all night. And she didn’t care if Leo did wake and wonder where she was. Let him find them. Let him hear the squeak of the mattress and the wet sound of her pussy being fucked by his son. She was Harry’s. Only Harry’s.
Pulling her hand from his mouth she leaned over him, pressing her soft tits to his chest, and kissed him slowly as she fucked him. They were breathing in through their noses sharply to fill their lungs so they didn’t have to part their mouths.
Harry’s hands found her round bum again, squeezing and pressing her down while her hands wound through his curls.
Harry was leaking quite desperately and doing everything he could to hold back from filling her with his warm come. He wanted to feel her around him for as long as possible, “M’gonna come, hold on…” his breathy words were pinched as he spoke quickly.
Y/n paused and sat up, bringing his hands from her bottom to her tits, urging him to squeeze them, “S’okay, baby. It’s okay to come.”
Harry’s chest heaved as he shook his head and pressed his thumbs over her nipples, “Want it to last. Need to be here with you forever.”
Licking her lips and keening at the way he pinched her left nipple she nodded, “Me too. Want to feel like this with you forever. We’ll take our time and go slow. But if you come it’s okay. There’s so much time for us. I know you needed me,” she ran her fingers over his pecks and up to his neck gently as she felt him throb inside of her. He had been dangerously close to coming.
“Tell me again, Y/n. Want to make sure it was real.”
Letting her fingers travel up to his chin and to the side of his face she whispered his new favorite phrase to him, “I love you, Harry.”
He whimpered and she felt his cock twitch. That had nearly been his end again. Just her words and the moment they were in was almost too much for him.
“Fuck. Nearly came right then, Y/n.” He panted and tried to calm his cock as he closed his eyes with a big smile on his face.
“You deserve to come, baby. You’ve been so good.”
She began to slowly rock over him again, her clit pasted over his pelvis with the head of his thick cock pushed into her tummy, dragging against her cervix. He filled her up so perfectly, made her wobble and ache from the fullness his sizable cock gave her.
Her pussylips gripped him lavishly, slipping up and down and stimulating him from base to tip, coating him in her cream and wetting his lap. His fingers sunk into her soft skin with a pinch as she inched down and up in steady motions.
“Do you hear that?” She sheathed him with her cunt and lifted gently so the sound of their bodies connecting and slipping together could be heard, “It’s because I belong to you, Harry. No one gets me so wet and so achy.”
Harry choked out a quiet moan and listened to the noise of his cock being fucked by her wet pussy. He could barely respond with any coherent words except to whisper her name and whine when she seated herself fully onto him and clenched.
“And I can tell you’re mine too baby. You’re cock gets so hard for me. Can’t help it can you? Need my love and my attention. All of my affection. My cunt. We need each other, Harry.”
Quiet gasps and moist bodies meeting and parting slowly began to get louder, faster.
Y/n was going to come and she didn’t know if she could stop it from happening this time. She wanted to go all night but she was going to explode if she didn’t come.
“Baby… look at me…” she spoke quietly as Harry opened his eyes to take her in. Soft tits jiggling and, her mouth parted, “I’m gonna come. I want you to come with me. Okay?”
He nodded, “Fuck yes. Come on me, Y/n…” Harry gritted his teeth when he felt her begin to fuck down over him harder.
Harry bent his knees and began to plunge himself into her, meeting her thrusts with harsh smacks and splatting noises.
She could no longer hold in her ecstasy or her cries of bliss.
“I love you, Harry! Fuck! I’m coming!”
Harry coughed out a loud groan and gasped as her walls clamped and spasmed over him. His balls thudded into her, knocking her upward when he felt the relief of his come pouring out of his cock and spurting into her cunt.
As they writhed and came together they heard a thud from in the hallway.
They both heard the noise but they were in the throes of their orgasms, whining and moaning together in bliss with pounding hearts as they kept their eyes on one another.
It didn’t matter to either of them who it was or what the noise was. They’d deal with that when they were ready. At that moment they were alone in a room together, bodies interlinked, adjoined, shaking, panting, bursting. Nothing else mattered. No one else could come between them.
Collapsing onto his chest she ran her nails over his scalp and felt his hair between her fingers as she kissed his neck and sighed. Harry was still trembling with the smallest smile on his pink lips, breathing hard, his chest rising and falling with Y/n moving up and down with his breaths.
“I love you so much, Harry.”
He turned to his face to push his nose against hers, “I love you so fucking much it hurts. I still can’t believe this is real. Is it?” His arm moved around her waist as he held her tight.
“Yeah. I’m not going anywhere. I don’t know what I’m going to tell Leo but you and I will think of something. I don’t want you and your father to have a bad falling out.”
Harry kissed her soft lips and grinned, “You’re gonna leave him?”
“Yeah. I don’t want anyone but you. And it’ll make things easier for him and Parker anyway,” she chuckled quietly. It was true. She was convinced that Leo was not just fucking the girl, he was very much into her, if not in love. Based on what she’d overheard of their conversation she was confident that leaving him wouldn’t be difficult. It was the reason she was leaving him that would make things complicated.
Harry nuzzled his face into Y/n’s cheek and kissed her jaw, “I can’t believe you want to be with me. It feels like a dream.”
“It does.”
When they heard another thud and the sound of someone moving around down the hall they looked at one another, “Think it’s your dad?”
Harry shrugged and shook his head, “Maybe Tyler? He could be back by now. Don’t know.”
Y/n put her cheek over Harry’s chest and wrapped her arms around him as they both laid back down, “I don’t want to go out there. Not tonight. I just want to be here with you. Just you and me. We can think about what we want to do in the morning.”
Harry smiled and rubbed her naked back with his warm palm, “I don’t care if he knows tonight or tomorrow. I’ll wait until the time is right if you want. Maybe telling him while we’re on vacation is a bad idea.”
Y/n nodded and closed her eyes. She didn’t care anymore either. Now that she had him back again she wasn’t going to be letting go. Sure things would probably be difficult. She’d need to actually put her degree to use and get a job. She’d have to give up all the luxuries that being married to Leo afforded her. And she’d need to face the possibility that Harry would have a falling out with his father and that people wouldn’t be so kind toward her given the situation.
But she couldn’t imagine it not being worth it. Harry was worth all of it. There was no way she’d deny herself of him any longer. He was suffering and so was she. And why keep lying? She was in love. She was in deep. Harry had gotten ahold of her heart early on. There was nothing to be done but to yield to it.
Much to Harry’s chagrin, Y/n urged him to get up so they could clean up. They were sticky and gooey all over. It was absolutely necessary.
But of course, cleaning up was made slightly more difficult with a playful Harry. And of course, he was playful. He’d just learned that Y/n loved him just as much as he loved her. He realized that they had been on the same page the whole time. That she had missed him and how bad it hurt her. They were feeling the same things but now? She realized what he’d known all along. That they would be better together. No matter what.
Harry’s low, quiet baritone rang in Y/n’s ear as she giggled, “And how about this?” He dragged the rag over her clit as she pushed at his arm but he wasn’t budging.
“Harry! You’re just supposed to clean it,” she whisper-shouted as he watched where he was dragging the damp rag through her messy labia.
“I like it dirty, though, Y/n,” he laughed his words quietly as Y/n grasped the cloth and yanked it from him.
“You’re something else,” she grinned at him as she wiped herself up.
Harry had her perched on the bathroom counter and he was stood between her legs when they heard a knock at the bedroom door.
The bathroom they were in was connected to the bedroom and they’d kept the door open.
“Did you lock the bedroom door?”
Harry shook his head. Neither moved an inch when they heard the second knock.
“No matter what, are you with me?” Harry held onto the bottoms of her thighs to keep her in place.
“Yes, Harry. I’m with you, baby.” She nodded as they heard the bedroom door open.
Both Y/n and Harry were naked and only half wiped up after having sex. Staring at one another they listened as the footsteps drew closer to them.
And the scene was just as anyone could imagine. A pair of lovers pressed together, watching the door as the intruder cast eyes on the infidelity. A bare woman sat on a countertop with her thighs held up by a man in between her legs.
Harry held up a protective arm to shield her from the eyes that peered in.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” Tyler laughed his words as he stepped forward enough that Harry and Y/n could see who it was.
Harry let out a breath and Y/n covered her face in embarrassment.
“Get the fuck out of here, dude!” Harry spoke quietly.
“I just came in here because Leo is awake and I’m pretty sure he heard you. I’ll be in my room if you need me.”
Y/n and Harry looked back at one another silently. Tyler said that he was pretty sure Leo had heard. But they wouldn’t know for sure until they faced him.
“Fuck.” Harry whispered, “I was hoping we could push this off until after vacation. What do we do?”
Y/n didn’t really know the answer. Ideally, they would have confronted Leo about this later on. Definitely not at the beginning of a two-week family vacation in Greece.
“We don’t know if he even heard anything. We can go out there now and get it out of the way. Or feel it out. See if he heard,” Y/n put her hands up to his chest.
Harry nodded and took a deep breath, “What if we just lock that door and get in bed together and wait until the morning?”
“We can do that too if you want. Maybe he has no idea and we can control when we tell him.”
The lovers smiled at one another in agreement before both leaning in to kiss. No matter what they were both on the same page now. There was no turning back.
“But if not. If he did hear we’ll figure it out. He doesn’t deserve you anyway, Y/n.”
Smiling up at him she realized that she was crazy but she was in love. And if anyone did deserve her it was Harry. The one who loved her. The one who was gentle with her. The one she loved.
“Yeah. We’ll figure it out together.”
This is the final part of this short series! Thank you for being here and reading!
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niningtori · 1 month
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see me | chapter four: together (final)
pairing: choi beomgyu x you
summary: after another failed relationship, you're ready to accept your fate as hopeless. choi beomgyu has other plans, though. or, beomgyu s your best friend's little brother and he's tired of you treating him like a kid.
genre: romance, angst, angst with a happy ending, best friend's brother au
word count: 3.4k (whoa)
notes: hi friends! happy easter to all who celebrate!! sorry this took me a bit to get out. i just love this story and this beomgyu so much i didn't want to rush it. i hope you're all satisfied with how this ends. see end of work for more notes :)
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you're so out of it jia can't fucking take it anymore. 
"hello? come back to earth, please," she says, waving her hand in front of your face. "are you ever gonna tell me what the fuck happened with doyoon?"
it's been a few days since your return from the beach. suffice it to say, one painfully awkward drive was spent with you trying not to openly stare at beomgyu and him focusing intently on the scenery outside. 
you're actually a little surprised by her question. you genuinely haven't thought about your conversation with doyoon since you had it — you've simply been too preoccupied by the revelation that beomgyu has feelings for you.
"nothing much, really. he apologized to me and asked to get a drink sometime."
"what the fuck?! what did you say?!" 
"i said no," you reply simply. she's quiet for a moment before her face contorts into a deep frown.
"why do i get the feeling that that's not what's bothering you so much?" 
"because it's not," you admit with a sigh.
"then what is it? you've been weird ever since we got back."
you're torn for a while. how do you explain to your best friend that her kid brother is in love with you? or says he is, at least. 
"... it's about beomgyu. he—"
"oh, so he finally told you, huh?" she interrupts with a knowing look and you're absolutely flabbergasted.
"t-told me what?" you try feigning ignorance. maybe she's got it wrong?
"that he's been in love with you ever since he first saw you."
"how the fuck did you know that?!" you ask incredulously.
"you're my best friend and he's my brother. i know you two too well," she shrugs.
"so you knew this whole time and didn't tell me?" 
"well, to be honest, it was painfully obvious, but i didn't wanna embarrass either of you and it's, frankly, none of my business."
"i... wasn't he just drunk? i don't believe it…” you trail off.
"what do you mean?"
"i mean, he can't really mean it. he doesn't know what he wants. he's just a kid and—" 
"i'm going to stop you right there," she says sternly. "you may be oblivious, but don't you dare dismiss his feelings to make yourself feel comfortable. his feelings are real and he doesn't deserve to have you completely disregard them just because you can't face them." you flinch at her harshness.
"b-but he's never even hinted at it!" 
"never even hinted at it, my ass. that boy was all over you," she snorts. "did you really not notice anything this past week?" your eyebrows knit in confusion as you think back to all of the times the boy (man?) had interacted with you. suddenly, the unassuming touches and glances beomgyu shared with you hit you at a mile a minute. oh god, he was flirting? he was, wasn't he? and you just ruffled his hair and called him cute. 
but you're not done denying, denying, denying.
"i just don't understand. how could he like me when he's always with somebody new?"
"has it ever occurred to you that that's because he wants you to see him as a man and not the child you're so convinced he is?" you fall silent at this. no, it has never occurred to you, but now that she's said it, the puzzle pieces are starting to fit together in the most gut wrenching way.
"so he's been fucking around for years because he wants to prove something to me?"
"more or less, yeah." your head is spinning at this. so his feelings are sincere? 
"i... i don't know what to say."
"i figured you wouldn't," she hums.
"what do i do?" you ask with a newfound sense of panic. this is real. beomgyu actually love, loves you. 
"well, what do you want to do? it all depends on how you feel about him." 
"to be honest, i've never seen him as anything other than a brother," you sigh.
"and what about now?"
"i... i don't know. i'm just confused," you whine, digging your face into your hands and slightly tugging on your hair. when you think of the kiss you two shared, your heart skips a beat and butterflies arise in your stomach. well, that's new.
"honestly, i'll consider that progress. it's better than being brother-zoned." 
"jia!" you exclaim exasperatedly. "you're not helping. the boy i've thought of as a literal brother is in love with me and i've unknowingly treated him like shit for years." 
"yes, but i know and he knows that you didn’t mean it. look, even if you don't like him at all, don't you think he deserves a proper rejection at the very least?"
"you're right," you relent. "you’re always right.”
“well, i know,” she muses. “but before you decide anything, i want you to think about who’s been by your side all these years. when you didn’t have anyone else, who could you count on?”
“i —” you begin. 
“don’t answer yet. just think about it.” and think about it, you do.
-
the more time you’re left to think about what happened with him, the more confused you feel. beomgyu isn’t a child anymore, that much is clear, but does that mean you can undo the near decade of thinking of him as one? he’s handsome, sure, and that kiss nearly knocked you off of your feet, but can you really see him as a partner? as a man?
you’re not really sure. plus, what would happen if it didn’t work out? the choi’s are like family to you. they’re more of a family than your actual family ever was or ever will be. is it really worth gambling such an important piece of your heart for something that could easily end in heartbreak? but then, it’s broken, either way. can you really face the choi family again when you know beomgyu is in love with you and has been for such a long time? no, you can’t. not in good conscience. you’ve, intentionally or not, ignored beomgyu’s feelings for years now and you can’t ask him to bottle them back up for your own comfort.
you decide it's best to just talk to him. 
-
beomgyu doesn’t think that this is a good idea at all, actually. but his friends told him that rotting in his bed and crying like he has been for the past few days is even worse. when they put it like that, it didn't seem right to refuse their suggestion to have a double date with yeonjun. even still, he told them he wasn't ready to see someone new, but they said he was never seeing you in the first place. that sure shut him up. either way, it would be casual and yeonjun just needs a friend for his date's friend.
his "date" is nice enough, but she seems to have not gotten the memo that he's here as a wingman and not much else. she's trying to draw his attention by not-so-discreetly placing her hand on his thigh. gross. he genuinely thought about pretending to have a stomachache to cut the date short, but yeonjun had the bright idea of inviting the girls over after dinner. so now, as he sits on the couch of his and yeonjun’s shared apartment, he prays for god to intervene and end his suffering. 
a knock on the door pulls him out of his thoughts. please, god, let it be the maintenance man telling them they have to evacuate because of a gas leak. he almost jumps out of his seat to get to the door first, but yeonjun is closer and he says he’ll get it. fuck. before he can catch a glimpse of the mystery person at the door, his date speaks again.
“gyu?” the girl asks tentatively.
“mmm?” he says, turning back around to face her.
“do you like me?” she says while, once again, putting her hand on his thigh. alright. enough is enough. usually, he would tell her to beat it and leave it at that, but ever since you told him he doesn’t treat girls the nicest, he’s decided he’ll try to be better. he takes her hand from his lap into his and opts to just be truthful. 
“to be honest, i —” 
“beomie?”
oh, he’d recognize that voice anywhere, even in his sleep. his head whips around almost comically fast and he unintentionally yanks his hand from his date's as he stands straight up.
“w-what are you doing here?” he asks, incredibly flustered.
you should say something, but your eyes can’t help but linger where his hand was joined with the hand of the very lovely girl sitting beside him, even after he’s pulled away. oh my god. you’re interrupting, aren’t you? he’s moved on, but you’re standing there like an idiot. you need to say something. 
“i-i’m sorry, i didn’t mean to intrude,” you choke out. you don’t know why, but you feel like you’re about to cry. you feel so embarrassed. why did you even for a second think that this would play out any differently? 
“everybody out,” beomgyu says firmly. 
“what?” his date asks, genuinely in shock.
“i said, everybody else needs to get out of here. right now. besides you,” he says while gesturing to your pitiful frame.
“gyu, i live here,” yeonjun argues.
“out,” beomgyu repeats. yeonjun lifts his hands in surrender and leads the bewildered girls out of the apartment. 
now it's just you and beomgyu.
after the door shuts, the silence is as unbearable as it is palpable. beomgyu is staring at you with the same intensity as he was the night he confessed to you. you feel so vulnerable — so seen — you honestly kind of wish you had just snuck out with everyone else. 
“beomie, i’m so, so sorry. i didn’t mean to ruin your date. i can go, i just —” 
“do you know what i've noticed about you?” he quietly interrupts. you’re so taken aback, you’re stunned into silence. he sighs before he continues. “the way you say things are okay when someone fucks you over. it’s okay to be mad at me, you know?” 
“beomie, i’m not mad!” you insist. “you’re single, after all. i’m the one who —”
“i’m single, but i still told you i loved you a few days ago. why wouldn’t you be hurt?” once again, you’re left speechless at his maturity. when did he become more mature than you? or was he always this way, and you just never noticed?
“or is it that you just don’t care enough about me to be upset?” he's the one who looks small now and you worry you have the power to break him. he deserves an honest answer, so you think about how you felt when you saw his hand intertwined with that girl’s and your heart feels a nasty pang. 
“i… i am upset,” you pause and process that ugly feeling. “really upset, actually. but not angry.”
“i’m sorry,” he says, not without conviction. “yeonjun needed a date for his date’s friend, and i planned on rejecting her, but i’m really sorry i hurt you.” 
“... it’s alright,” you say carefully. “i understand. and i still think you don’t owe me anything, beomie.”
“but i want to owe you,” he says quietly.
“what do you mean?” you can’t help but ask. 
“i want to owe you. i want to make it up to you, and i want you to make it up to me.” you think you understand what he means. he wants you to make it up to him for not seeing him as he truly is all these years, but you just can’t understand his thinking.
“why?” you ask softly.
“why would you ask when you already know why?” he answers quietly with a sad smile. because he loves you.
“but why? why do you like me? you could have anyone. i’m wishy washy, i’m insecure. i’m just a mess, beomie. and i don’t want you to waste your time with me.” you hate the way your voice shakes. you wish, for once in your life, that you could be brave enough to say what you need to say without hesitating. you feel as small as a child, and in front of beomgyu of all people. but the dynamic you’ve always thought you had is becoming more and more twisted as you realize you’ve been very, very wrong about him, and maybe about yourself, too. beomgyu is not some kid. his feelings are not so easily written off, and that becomes even clearer when he says his next words in a haste. 
“don’t talk about yourself like that,” he says sharply, and his seriousness immediately derails your train of thought. “i’m not looking for anybody else. i… i don’t want anybody else. and i would never, ever feel like my time is wasted with you. every moment i spend with you is important to me.” you don’t mean for your eyes to get hot. truly, you don’t, but the boy’s words are so kind you’re unable to control yourself. 
“you really love me?” you ask at the risk of seeming annoying. you just have to be sure. 
“i do,” he says patiently. “i always have.” he isn’t sure what to make of you asking this. he has no hope now, but if it makes you feel better to hear him say he loves you a million times over, so be it. you’ve been hurt enough all your life, from your parents to your partners, if he’s able to comfort you even just a little bit, even if it’s never reciprocated, it’s enough for him. so he continues. 
“i’m… i’ve always thought about how to say this, so i’m sorry if it’s just too much for you. if it is, then just stop me, okay?” you can’t help but nod. “i just have to say that, to me, you are the most beautiful person in the world. i’ve wanted to tell you that since i was 14. i know you’re sad and i know you’ve been hurt before, and i wish i could take it all away. i’ve always wished i could take it all away. i know you think you deserve everything that’s happened to you so far, but i want you to know that that's not true, and it kills me that you’ve ever felt that way. i love everything you say you hate about yourself, because you’re you. i know you want to change, and i want you to know that i see how hard you’re trying. those flaws that make you a mess, or however you put it, only make me love you more because i can see how hard you’ve worked to get where you are. and if you don’t love me, even if you never do, that’s… it's okay. i just want you to be happy. and if i can be selfish, i want to be the one who helps you get there.” 
you don’t try to stifle your tears anymore. they are now flowing freely and your breath is heavy in your throat. he understands you. he sees you for everything that you are and were, and everything that you’re trying to be. has anyone ever made you feel this safe before? has anyone ever made you feel this loved and understood? 
you think back to what jia asked. when you didn’t have anyone else, who could you count on? if you didn’t trust any man in the world, you could trust beomgyu. that’s just how it is. you realize, even from the first night you met him, you’ve always been relying on him, in a way. why else would you feel so comfortable telling him about your anxieties mere hours after you spoke to him for the first time? 
things were one way then, but they could be different now. beomgyu loves you in a way that previously seemed inconceivable to you. what did you do to deserve this boy — this man? not a fucking thing, in your opinion, but now that you know how he really feels, is it possible to accept anything less than the love he is now presenting to you? maybe he’ll wake up one day and regret everything he’s said up until now, but you’re far too selfish to give up the heart he’s begging for you to take as your own.
you don’t know why, but you fling yourself into his arms, reminiscent of how you did all those years ago when he was just a teenage boy and you were just a heartbroken girl. he holds you like he did before, with an overwhelming sense of patience and security. he traces his hands lovingly up and down your back. 
“okay. okay, i want to try. i can’t promise that i’ll be perfect, i can’t even promise to be good, but i’ll try, okay? you’re so, so good, beomie. and i'm sorry for not realizing it sooner.”
he pulls away from your embrace and your cheeks feel hot when you catch his heated gaze. he looks down at you and if his look wasn’t enough, his next words certainly are:
“can i kiss you?”
“yes, beomie,” you whisper. 
"call me gyu," he says hoarsely. you gulp and pray he doesn't hear it.
he softly, reverently, pushes your stray hairs behind your ears and you realize he’s done so many times before. mainly when you were sad, but this time is… different. when his lips lock with yours, you're stunned into oblivion. there's so much fire behind it, but still, there’s a gentleness you’ve never known. as if he’s afraid of breaking you, he holds you like you’re a precious gem. usually, kisses are take take take from you, but he gives you so much love and care you feel like you’re floating. is this what love is supposed to feel like? so safe and so, so warm? 
he parts from you far too soon for your liking. his breath is labored and his cheeks are flushed. you look at him in confusion.
“i-i’m sorry, i just can't. if we keep going, i won't be able to control myself. i'm gonna —” 
“it's okay, gyu,” you whisper. “we can keep going.” he understands what you mean without you having to say anything more.
“are you sure?” he asks, just to be safe.
“i'm sure,” you answer without missing a beat. his lips curl up and he leads you to his bedroom, hand holding yours so tightly, it’s almost like he’s afraid to lose you.
-
the night is spent with beomgyu praising you like he’s never seen anything quite like you before. you feel his devotion with every passing moment and you can’t believe this is what you’ve been missing all these years. you’ve never felt so good, so cared for, in all your life. when you’re finished, and he’s cradling you in his arms, you’re both struggling to catch your breath. he looks at you like you hung the moon, but what you don’t know is that you’re starting look at him like that, too.
-
you’re so anxious. as you pull up to the choi’s family home in the passenger’s seat of beomgyu’s car, you can’t help but wring your hands together. this could be very good, or very, very bad. you can’t help but feel like you’re… betraying? the choi family by dating beomgyu. they’ve taken you in as family, but you’ve taken beomgyu as your own. do you regret that decision? well, you can’t say you do when beomgyu grabs your restless hands and comfortingly squeezes them before telling you “hey, it’s alright. don’t be nervous. i love you. they love you. everyone here loves you. just be yourself and i’ll take care of the rest, okay?” 
“okay,” you say shyly. you and beomgyu have been working on your self esteem. it was pretty slow going at first, but you’ve been pushing through. now, after three months, you’re a lot better, but there’s still room for improvement. beomgyu is nothing if not patient, though. after all, he’s been waiting for 8 years. how could he not be? and so he patiently coaxes you out of the car and into the house.
you two find your way inside and are greeted by his parents, jia, and yijun. nobody bats an eye at you two walking in together — they just greet and hug you as per usual, but their smiles drop and their faces turn serious when beomgyu announces he has something to tell everyone.
“guys, uh, we have something to tell you all,” he says, lacing his fingers with yours, “we’re together now.” you could hear a pin drop with how quiet the room is. mrs. choi is the first to break the silence.
“h-how long? how long has this been going on?” 
“three months,” he says cautiously. again, the room is silent.
“... only three? damn it!” mr. choi exclaims.
“i told you guys it hasn’t been very long,” jia sneers. “now pay up.” beomgyu’s parents grimace while pulling out their wallets and stuffing cash in jia’s hands.  
“pleasure doing business with you,” she teases with a shit-eating grin.
“um, guys? what’s going on? i’m kind of pouring my heart out over here,” beomgyu says irritatedly. 
“oh, honey. we know. we’ve known you liked her since she first stepped foot into our home. she was the only one who didn’t,” mrs. choi replies with a wave of her hand and your cheeks can’t help but heat up to an impossible degree. beomgyu finally pieces everything together while you’re still scrambling to understand what’s going on.
“oh my god, did you all make a bet to see how long it’d take for us to get together?!” beomgyu exclaims.
“more or less,” mr. choi says nonchalantly. realistically speaking, you and beomgyu should be angry, but all you two can do when you lock eyes with each other is laugh. 
“so you’re okay with it?” you ask meekly.
“of course we are!” mrs. choi says. “we couldn’t ask for a better match for our boy. we were just waiting for you to see that, too.” you can’t help but feel your eyes go sour. you hug his parents and they rub your hair. why would you think they’d do anything other than accept you? they always have.
that night, after all the board games and movies and laughter, you go out for some fresh air. you aren’t surprised in the slightest to see beomgyu sitting on the back porch steps, almost as if he’s been waiting for you. 
“there you are,” beomgyu says with a grin blooming on his face. you sit next to him, so close your thighs are touching. you lean your head against his shoulder and you sigh in contentment.
“that wasn’t so bad, was it?” he asks.
“not at all,” you smile, “but did everyone in the world know about us besides me?”
“pretty much, yeah,” he giggles and you playfully smack his chest. after your laughter dies down, beomgyu senses some hesitation from you. it feels like you want to say something to him.
“what is it?” he asks. you pull away from him and stare into his eyes. they look especially starry tonight.
“i have to tell you something,” you say, voice trembling slightly.
“mhm?” he nods.
“i think… actually, i know i love you, gyu. and i’m sorry it took me so long to get here, but i really do.” your eyes water when you see beomgyu’s doing the same. he looks so relieved, as if your words in particular are the ones he’s been waiting for all his life. and they are.
“i love you, too, if you haven’t guessed that already,” he says softly. “and i’d do everything all over again if it meant i’d get to be with you like this.” his eyes close and he leans in. you meet him halfway and press your lips together in a chaste kiss.
notes pt. 2: and that's it for them! i actually wrote a bit of smut for this, but i don't think it'll ever see the light of day i fear. as always, feedback is appreciated! i'd love to know what you all think :)
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mournings-stars · 2 months
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nothing changes
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final and part 3 of the prelude to my orpheus and eurydice angst fic "doubt comes in" parts two and three (if you would like to read chronologically these come first) part five/finale (a semi-alt ending)
includes: heaven lucifer ofc, a little lore, some blending of greek mythology, still a little, if not more ambiguous than before, luci is still a hopeless romantic but a little unreliable in the narration aspect, the fluff is basically over I gave yall a warning on the last part but here's my formal apology... especially since lucifer calls you humility
tags: @lxkeee @viannasthings @majonla @sapphirecaelis
Suddenly, Lucifer was holding the world in his arms. 
A Virtue, asleep in his bed, held to his chest. The very same Virtue he’d admired for so long, sleeping soundly in his embrace as if it were the greatest comfort. 
The night of the Celebration, you left after a single dance, going to his home for dinner, where he had the bouquet you gave him on display in his dining room. It was a fight to leave, Lucifer suggesting you stay as he reluctantly walked you toward the door, eventually relenting and letting you kiss him goodbye when you said you’d see him the next day. 
And the next, and the next, and so on and so forth, nearly every day being spent together now that you both knew how you felt. You never ran out of things to talk about, and getting to see him was the highlight of your day. Especially when he came to Earth to help you work. 
The more time he spent with you, the more he wanted to move with haste and plan an immortal future together; marriage, children, living together, but he had to stop himself, remind himself that you had all the time in the world to move as slowly as you wanted, and a single kiss wasn’t grounds to take off from. For all he knew, you kissed him because you were drunk and only cared for him as a friend. 
Which was enough. He’d take whatever care you were willing to give — and this, a night together, was more than enough. 
But his loud thoughts woke you up, feeling that he was awake and mumbling, “sleep, Luci.” 
He smiled at the way you sleepily said his name, forgetting half of it. He leaned down and kissed the top of your head, your wings stretching before wrapping around him and gently draping over him as you pressed a gentle kiss to his chest, right above his heart. 
How soon was too soon in deciding you’d fallen in love?
He’d asked Sera, who’d lifted his ban from the seasons changing the moment he came to the meeting room to announce that he would tell you depending on her answer… one day. “I’ll wait a hundred years.” To beings like you, that was nothing but a blink of an eye, making her laugh. 
“You may want to tread carefully,” Sera warned. “You know how Virtues are; sometimes, they abandon you.” Everyone knew the stories of Chastity, Kindness, Charity, or Patience, leaving someone broken-hearted. “They can’t love one thing more than another — and they’ll never love a soul more than they love the Earth. It’s what they were made for.”
“I don’t think that’s true,” he said, shaking his head. “We have free will. Virtues, even if they're born for a purpose, have it, too.”
“Yes, but that free will will never come before their duty,” she said simply. “I’m not telling you that you shouldn’t love Humility — Do it. Love and be loved.” He nodded, warm mood returning to him with Sera’s heartfelt blessing. “But don’t put all of yourself into that love, Lu. You could end up with nothing, while Humility takes it and moves on.” At his silence, she continued, “Have you ever seen the way nature itself fights for a Virtue’s attention?” He thought back, the way animals came to you despite a predator or prey being near. Plants blossomed brighter as you walked by. Winds sang, and the sun beamed while rivers rushed and dived to a fall, a pool of water at your feet. “You have it now, but Humility loves it all equally. You will be loved just the same. Not more or less, but equal; equal to that flower you wear, to a hare she finds needing her help, to the grass and dirt that hare walks across… You can’t expect more.”
“I don’t,” he said quickly, easily. 
“And you can never hurt Humility — I’m warning you to respect a Virtue’s duty, to not expect what one can’t give you—“ Lucifer could argue with that, but he held his tongue. “—and I’m also giving my blessing.”
He smiled. “Thank you.”
Perhaps, he never should’ve headed her warning. 
He swore to himself that he wouldn’t, but a warning like that could only do one thing; doubt comes in, planting a small seed in his mind that he couldn’t shake, thinking of Sera’s warning every time he was with you and wondering how you truly felt about him. It was to the point that even you noticed. 
You’d asked him to come down to Earth with you, taking him to a large pond at the base of a waterfall where a pair of ducks circled. He had been happy to see them, realizing you’d taken notice of a golden duck he had on display despite him never showing you. 
“Is everything alright, Luci?” You’d made it a habit of calling him that, first doing it as a joke after he teased you about it, but the joke seemed to stick. 
He smiled, huffing a laugh. “You're perceptive.” You shrugged. “Can I ask you something?” You nodded, waiting for him to continue, but there was a beat of silence. You placed a gentle hand on his, but he took it away. Then he quickly took your hand again, making you chuckle. 
“You don’t have to hold my hand if you don’t want to.”
“I know.” He gave a reassuring smile, then sighed. “Is it true? Virtues love every living thing equally?”
“Ah,” you laughed, “you spoke to Sera.” He nodded. “The other Virtues didn’t leave the angels they loved because we love everything equally — it’s because they expected something they couldn’t give.” You pursed your lips, unsure of whether this would soothe him or push him away. “Yes, it’s in our nature to love all living things equally, but we don’t love them the same. I could never love a soul the same way I love a river,” you said like it was ridiculous to think so. “Or an animal the way I love another angel. It may, theoretically, be equal, but is an angel equal to the wind?” He shook his head, threading his fingers through yours. “So, I may be sinful in saying this,” you joked, “but that would mean I love you more.”
He took it as an explanation rather than a confession of your feelings, a relieved smile coming to his face before he brought the back of your hand to his lips to kiss gently. 
When it came time to transition spring into summer, you let Lucifer help, singing the melody together and flying over Earth as you watched it change. Flowers blossomed and gave you ripe fruits to taste, greenery grew bigger and fuller, and animals basked in the sun as you sang. 
All of Heaven could hear your harmony, reveling in how beautiful it was, and how as you sang it, they could feel your warmth — your love. 
A love so bright and warm it could burn for eons. A song, so beautiful, that when you sang it the world came into tune. 
The song of love.
That was what they began calling it. Hundreds of summers, hundreds of winters. Autumns and springs. For hundreds of years, the two of you sang the song in harmony and Sera’s warning began to mean less and less to Lucifer. 
But doubt comes in. 
Hundreds of years, and your relationship stayed the same. Hundreds of years, and you never told him you loved him. Hundreds of years, and at the back of his mind he knew why. 
Hundreds, and hundreds, and hundreds of years, and humans were brought to the Earth. 
The Earth began to change. Your song was hardly needed, and you frequented less and less. Your animals were hunted and your plants were cut down. You could feel every death, every life leaving the Earth. Your power weakened, and your will to do anything about it weakened with it. 
“It’s how the world must be,” Sera told you when your grief caused rain on Earth at times where it should’ve been calm. “It’s a part of life, Humility.”
“I understand that, just…” You couldn’t articulate your feelings, giving her the perfect opportunity to tell you,
“As a Virtue, you should love and feel for these humans as much as you do for the life you create and care for.”
“You’re right…” All the other Virtues understand, so why couldn’t you? 
Lucifer said it was because Earth was more than just your job. You cared for the mortal world like no other angel did, and that was what he loved about you. It’s why you were so good at what you did. 
And as he told you this, he took you to a garden in Heaven. Plants you’d created and cared for lived endlessly, and most importantly, the animals you felt leave the mortal world were immortalized there. They recognized you, coming to you like they had on Earth and making you happier than he’d seen you since things began changing. 
Lucifer watched the sullen mood you’d been in wash away, and slowly, you began to spend all of your time in this garden.
And doubt comes in. 
To him, you didn’t seem to care whether or not he was with you in the garden, so he left you alone. Day and night, you spent it alone in the garden and he spent it alone in your shared home, falling asleep and waking up without you. 
He busied himself with unnatural creations, spending time in his office, working the days away like he used to. You’d come throughout the day, hoping to see him. You’d make lunch and call out to him, but he never seemed to notice. You spent the days alone, opting to go to the garden he showed you and wishing he were there with you. 
He started to think, to doubt; It wasn’t that the other Virtues couldn’t give the angels they loved enough, it was that they had all the time in the world to do so, to have them wait while they provided and cared for the Earth. They may have loved them more, but that love could be stretched endlessly.  
Before, time was endless on Earth. It was why the seasons needed you, why you never feared the loss of your creations, and why you could say you would love him more. Now, there was a cycle, an order of things, and a hierarchy. All living things you cared for would one day manifest with you in Heaven, where time was once again endless — His immortal life was endless, and he’d always be there for you. You could stretch your love for him as long as he’d let you, while you tended to the garden he showed you. 
So no, he wasn’t equal to the wind, but now he was equal to, if not less to you than, a manifested soul. 
You could never love him more. How could he expect you to?
And Lucifer went down to Earth, in hopes to feel what you felt, to understand how you could feel plants and animals dying. To see how much it changed. 
But he came across someone — a woman. Sera told him she was named Lilith after the beautiful flowers you made bloom, in hopes to lift your resentment of what she and the other elders created. 
He left before she could see him, taking a lily with him. 
He made his way to the garden, finding you there and tending to the plants. 
He cleared his throat to get your attention, making you turn. The smile you gave him made his heart race and wings flutter, you looked so undeniably happy that he was there. He should’ve just come to you like he usually did, he thought regretfully. He had no reason to doubt you when you looked at him that way.
“I brought you something.” He held the flower out to you, watching you take it with so much care. “I went down to Earth today… It hasn’t changed as much as you thought.”
“Really?” You asked hopefully. 
“New life comes every spring,” he told you. “It feels more alive than ever… Though it could use your touch.” He watched your smile grow as you looked down at the flower, twirling it in your fingers. 
“Maybe we can go down together next time.”
“I’d like that.”
How could he have convinced himself to doubt you so heavily? Why would he, so easily, trust the doubt in his mind more than you?
“I was hoping you’d come here,” you told him after a moment. “I — well — I was hoping I’d get to thank you for showing it to me. I know you’ve been busy with work, but I wanted to tell you: this place helped me feel connected to nature again.” There was a moment of pause before you joked, “I can’t say I’m not glad you didn’t see how weak I was, though…” He’d never heard you speak so quiet and unconfidently, masking it with a flat joke as you refused to look him in the eye, but he heard every word, feeling even worse for what his mind began to tell him. “I understand why you left after you showed me this place… If you want to be alone after the way I reacted—“
He cut you off, quickly bringing you into his embrace. His wings wrapped around you and his head tucked into your shoulder. “I’ve missed you so much.” You sighed, hugging him back and dropping the flower to the ground. “I thought you wanted to be alone.”
You laughed, shaking your head. “I’d rather be alone with you.” 
You spent the night together in your home, preparing dinner and enjoying the night like you used to, and the next morning he went with you to the garden. Only to find that an animal had eaten part of the lily you dropped on the garden floor. It looked weak, too sick to even move. 
“They’re poisonous?” You asked him, in shock that you didn’t know the changes that happened to your own flowers. You went to the animal to try to use your abilities to heal it, hoping those hadn’t changed, too. 
“I didn’t know…” He tried to say, but you didn’t respond. “I can help—“ he reached for the animal and you turned away, wings flaring to put distance between you. He took a shocked step back, scrambling to explain himself, “I didn’t mean to bring… poison into your garden, Humility—”
“I know,” you said weakly, doubting. 
“It’ll be okay,” he told you. It was already dead, he couldn’t remind you.
Again, “I know.” You knew, and that was why it was so upsetting. Not even in death could a soul escape suffering. How was that fair?
“Let me help. Please.” But he was met with silence, not even a response of you shaking your head. 
Instead, a gentle breeze began to blow, a song flowing through the garden. The same song you’d sung for hundreds of years. As it continued, the winds got stronger, flowers bloomed brighter, plants got taller, and the little animal in front of you perked up and scurried away. 
There it was again. 
He wondered if Sera was right, if he truly did distract you. If you’d done nothing but tend to the garden and your power had recovered more than he ever could’ve helped you to do, there was no doubt. 
“Why are they changing everything I create?” But he didn’t hear your frustrated question. “Can everything I care for now be hurt?” He didn’t hear your voice break as you begged for an answer, hoping that he, as a Seraph, would know and tell you if he did. 
But he didn’t hear anything over his own doubtful thoughts. All he saw was you get up and walk away from him, wings wrapped around yourself to bring yourself comfort as if he’d purposely brought poison into your garden. 
He took what was left of the flower and left the garden, once again going to earth. He’d find you something else, he decided. He’d make sure you knew he didn’t bring you a poisonous flower on purpose. He’d make sure you didn’t resent him, like you resented the humans and the way the Earth changed. 
He’d make sure he knew every change that was made and make sure it couldn’t upset you. He’d make sure you never pushed him away like that again—
“What a beautiful flower.” He paused, looking ahead of him to see that same woman once again. “It’s poisonous, you know?” Lucifer looked down at it. He knew now. “It can be hard to tell, but I can show you the ones that aren’t — though, I thought angels would know.”
“A lot has changed,” he muttered, surprised she was speaking to him. 
And perhaps that was where it started, where he began to learn about this new Earth through her, under the guise of relaying the information to you.
But he never did. 
Instead, he kept coming back. He didn’t retrieve anything for you, but he spoke to her every time. He listened to her cry and comforted her if he could. 
He found a friend in this woman; in Lilith… And then he found something more. 
He showed her his creations, something he’d never shown you, and he beamed at the way she appreciated them, eyes full of wonder. He spent the night with her in The Garden and showed her the warmth of the moss covered cave, where they sat and talked just as you’d done. Only she lied next to him where you sat so far away. 
And then she told him she loved him. 
Something you never said. 
But you didn’t have to. You showed it;
in the way you stayed up and waited, waited to apologize for pushing him away, for walking away and getting so upset. In the way you fell asleep in an armchair in the living room and woke up when he came home in the morning, not even noticing you and going up to his study. In the way you greeted him warmly when he came down, though he didn’t give you time to apologize. In the way you held him like he was what you treasured most, like he was something you didn’t want to lose. In the way you asked to see what he was working on. In the way you let him leave. 
In the way you let him tell you he was in love with someone else. 
“I didn’t realize it until now — all I wanted was to get more knowledge of the Earth, to bring to you; to show you I cared,” he gave explanation after explanation as you stood in the garden he showed you, and you thought you should’ve questioned why you were spending the evening together. 
But he suddenly stopped, shutting his mouth and pausing to look over you. 
He’d never seen you cry. Not once. He’d seen you upset, he’d seen you overjoyed, he’d seen you devastated just months ago, but he’d never seen you cry — and to think, the first time he did, it was because he was making you cry. Because he hurt you. 
He tried to reach out, and this time you didn’t push him away. It was worse. Your arms hugged your shoulders and your wings wrapped around yourself as you stared at the ground, taking a cowering step away from him. He wished you’d turn your back on him, spare him from seeing what he’d done, but you didn’t. 
There was a long silence as you urged yourself to calm down, breathing slowly. 
Finally, you said, “I don’t fault you for falling in love.” His throat tightened as you finally turned away from him. He was wrong. That wasn’t what he wanted at all. Not like this. “I want you to be happy. If this is what makes you happy then… Then, I’m happy for you.” 
“But I did give you a chance to leave,” you wanted to remind him, but he spoke before you could, “Don’t lie to me,” he said, begging and sounding completely defeated. You’d never lied to him before, but he knew you were now. “I know you—”
Instead you reminded him, “Then you know that I love you. I always have… I should’ve said it more than I did, I know, but I never thought you’d doubt me.”
And he could hear it over and over; your reassurance, and your confession. You told him long before he ever told you. 
“But,” you mocked his silence, resentment he knew you would eventually feel for him seeping into your voice as you said, “you know how Virtues are.”
Sometimes, they abandon you.
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agi-ppangx · 3 months
Text
ice cream (lee minho x seo changbin x gn!reader)
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hurt/comfort, no warnings, minbin are coming to the rescue with cuddles and ice cream
an: mother has requested and i shall deliver🫡 i hope this will satisfy you and make you a little bit better🫶🏽
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“ynnie?” you heard changbin’s faint voice as he opened the door to your bedroom. you were curled up in minho’s embrace, a fluffy blanket tucked under your chin. “hi, baby, i bought you some ice cream,” changbin said with a gentle smile, sitting next to you on the bed. you reached out and took the bag from his hand, taking out some lemon and chocolate ice cream and you opened the box. changbin came prepared and handed you a spoon, which you took with a faint smile and a quiet thank you.
“i feel awful,” you started, trying to scoop some ice cream. minho tucked some of your hair strands behind your ear and patted your head as if you were his cat. “i just- i thought it was good, y’know?” you said with a full mouth. they both nodded at your words, waiting for you to continue. “and he just straight up told me it was lacking, can you believe it?” you raised your voice.
“asshole,” minho mumbled, hugging you tighter as changbin laid down next to you, throwing his leg over your body. all of you created this little pile and you were happy about it - their warmth and proximity was like a bandaid for your bruised heart.
the boys grew concerned as you suddenly fell quiet, silently munching on your ice cream. you buried your head under the blanket and finally, after the whole day filled with frustration, you broke down, letting the tears fall down your face.
“yn?” minho asked, alarmed by your sniffles. he took the hem of the blanket, bringing it up to see your puffy face all red and wet from the tears. he cooed at your state, uncovering you and both him and changbin trapped you in a tight embrace, cradling your trembling body and treating it with utmost care.
“am i not trying hard enough?” they heard you mutter and it immediately made their hearts break.
“baby, no, don’t say that… you’ve worked so hard and i’m sure your professor wants the best for you,” changbin stated, kissing your forehead. “i know it’s not easy to hear the negative feedback, but you’re so talented and smart and i’m more than sure you can still pass it with the highest score because it’s you.”
“but if he doesn't change the way he talks to you i’m gonna beat his ass,” minho added, earning a chuckle from you, and it made his heart grow as he watched your face lighten up.
“thanks, i guess i’m just- i’m really tired and now i have to rewrite the whole thing and it just makes me feel so hopeless…” you said, scooping some more ice cream and sniffing a few more times. changbin wiped your face with his hand and smiled at you reassuringly.
“we can help you rewrite it if it makes you feel less hopeless?” he suggested but you shook your head.
“it’s okay, binnie, i’ve got this,” you responded. “your presence is enough to make me feel better. but i gotta need you to buy me more ice cream. y’know, for motivation,” you smirked, swinging the spoon in their faces. they laughed at that, squeezing your body once again.
“more ice cream it is!”
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