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#brain. i feel like crying all the time and i mostly just don't really feel anything
thethingything · 28 days
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I'm fatigued, my back hurts, I accidentally spent like 3 hours sat downstairs in a chair that made our back feel worse because our executive dysfunction prevented me getting up and going back upstairs even though I only went down there to get one thing, and now I really need to lay down but if I accidentally fall asleep again I feel like I'll wake up, realise I fell asleep and also that I feel like I wasted a big chunk of the day, and I'll end up feeling even worse again
#personal#thoughts#🍬 post#vent post#posts made on pain meds#I went downstairs to get food but ended up having to wait longer than anticipated which is whatever#but then that meant I ended up sitting down and once we sit down it's like our brain stops being able to process that we can leave#I'll sit there the whole time going ''I need to get up and go back upstairs. I don't want to be sat here'' and just can't get up#I hate that this happens because while I know our executive dysfunction isn't our fault#and it's the exact same issue that stops us eating or drinking or going to the toilet or whatever when we need to#I still feel like I should be able to just get up and do the thing and just leave if I'm in a situation that I don't want to be in#and it's so hard to get other people to understand that I can't ''just leave'' because my brain just won't let that happen#like I want to but my brain won't register it as an actual thing I can do and it feels more like a weird abstract concept#than a thing I could actually do. it's like my brain can't connect the concept of the action to the act of doing it#and then I get frustrated because why can't I just do the thing that I know I should be able to do#and then I've spent hours not doing anything I meant to and mostly just feel like shit because of it and it keeps happening#and now I need to lay down and I know what's likely to happen if I do that#but I do need to listen to my body especially after getting stuck in a situation that makes our pain and fatigue worse#also we had to take pain meds earlier and that's definitely not helping with us feeling shit emotionally about all this#I hate having to navigate our brain and body just not functioning properly#I feel like we've had so little energy lately and it's reminding me too much of this time last year when we had that blood infection#I'm terrified of that happening again because we almost didn't get treatment because we started to assume it was just our new baseline#hmm apparently within like 5 minutes we've gone from ''ugh I wasted 3 hours'' to almost crying over medical trauma#I probably need to try and do something to calm us down but also I'm too tired to really do anything#which brings me right back to the issue that triggered this whole rant and me getting upset in the first place
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edith-is-a-cat · 3 months
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Fuck.
I wish I could help.
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thetempleofhades · 6 months
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favorites pt2
this is mostly self indulgent. just fontaine being my favorite. this is an alternate version with imposter au creator! reader.
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Maybe it was childish in the eyes of others that you preferred Fontaine over every other nation. You had been ridiculed and branded as an imposter in Mondstadt, you had been nearly killed in Liyue, had been nearly killed again in Inazuma, you didn't neven want to talk about Sumeru.
You didn't want to even think about the Fatui or their reigning Archon, The Tsaritsa. Fontaine had been the first place that you ran to that didn't try to kill you or accuse you of a heinous crime. You had nearly broken down crying at the realization that the residents of Fontaine weren't going to hurt you.
You looked out at the rain, watching it fall with trembling hands as you sat at a table, having tea with Furina and Neuvillette.
"....Your Grace?" Neuvillette called your attention softly, staring at you with a concerned look as he took notice of your trembling hands. "Are you alright?"
It was overwhelming. This was the first time you'd been asked if you were okay since the moment you arrived in Teyvat. It was.... strange. In a horrible way, running and avoiding death was something you got used to. you used to hide in caves and amongst the hilichurls for a moments of respite and look at your scars.
Your shaken eyes stared down at your scarred hands, "Um... Yes... I'm fine." It sounded like a lie from your lips. You weren't fine. Fontaine had refused to hunt you down, and the moment you entered it's borders, Fontaine protected you. Furina, Clorinde, and Neuvillette protected you and comforted you. Why was Fontaine the first to protect you? Were people truly that cruel?
Furina's eyes noticed your shaken state and she exchanged a look with Neuvillette. "Your Grace, please try the cake! It's of highest quality, as is everything and everyone that graces my table." Smugness radiated from her as she pushed the piece of cake towards you, eager to get you to eat something, anything.
You looked up towards her as her presence calmed you down from your anxiety. Your shaky hand reached for the fork. "Is it really okay for me to be here, won't it cause problems with the other nations?"
"Forget about those guys! Those Archons have rotting brains and feeble bodies. They should have just turned to dust instead." Furina scoffed as she rolled her eyes. "I don't really care about them, Fontaine welcomes you and we'll protect our beloved creator." She smiled at her and you relaxed slowly as you looked down at your cake before taking a bite.
"...!" Your eyes widened as you stared down at the slice of cake. "....It's good." You commented quietly, not noticing the pleased look on both Neuvillette and Furina's face.
"Everyone here treasures you, Your Grace. You don't have to worry about anything and everyone who has hurt you will never be able to come here so easily. Rest easy and enjoy all the things we have to offer you." Neuvillette's voice was soothing as you found yourself nodding.
Yes.... you did like Fontaine.... You liked being in Fontaine...
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Okay, you liked slightly less now that you were in an actual prison.
"Why are going to a prison?" You asked Neuvillette, nervous as you shifted in the lift you were in. You tugged your jacket closer to your frame as you looked up at the man who had been by your side since you had arrived in Fontaine. "I'm... not being arrested, right?"
"No, of course not, Your Grace. You haven't done anything wrong in the slightest. This is the Fortress of Meropide. The administrator of this place, Wriothesley is a personal friend. I thought you should be introduced to him as well as you have decided to reside in Fontaine for now.
Before you could respond, the lift opened and you really weren't sure how to feel about this place.
You shyly waved to those who you past. They were all staring at you, it was a little unnerving but it didn't feel like they disliked you.
You currently found yourself in an office as said man, (Wriothesley was what Neuvillette called him) poured you tea. "It's chamomile tea, Your Grace. You seem a little nervous." The man smiled at you which only made a blush of embarrassment appear on your cheeks.
You wondered if anyone was ever disappointed when they learnt that you were the Creator of this world, you didn't fit the title of All Powerful. Your time being hunted had made you skittish and paranoid.
You looked to the side as Sigewinne, the Melusine that Neuvillette told you about entered and your hear jumped. You had always been fond of cute things and Sigewinne was cute, you had always been fond of children.
"Hello, Your Grace!" She smiled at you happily and you swore you could cry. She was so cute....
You quickly averted your eyes, to try and keep your composure, to not seem strange, "Um, hello to you too." You greeted her, the shyness leaving you as a soft smile curled at you lips.
You kept the steaming cup in hand, not yet drinking it.
"Their Grace has decided to reside in Fontaine for the moment as we sort out the issue with the other Archons." Neuvillette quietly informed Wriothesley while you were enamored with Sigewinne and talking to her quietly. "It will most likely be a drawn out affair. The other Archons will likely not admit their wrong doings." Neuvillette frowned, which was mimicked by Wriothesley.
You were oblivious to their conversation as you talked quietly to Sigewinne about the sights you had seen so far. "Neuvillette and Furina have been making sure my meals are good enough."
"I'll write out a detailed meal plan so you can recover quickly!" Sigewinne seemed happy to be able to do something for you and you couldn't refuse her after seeing her excitement.
Your eyes softened as you smiled. "I'll make sure to follow it fully."
Yeah... Fontaine was great.... You didn't mind staying her for a while...
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onestopfanficshop · 8 months
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parenthood hcs (141 + los vaqueros + könig x f!reader)
tbh i feel like this sucks but like... i've been working on it too long to scrap it lol 💀 i might come back and add more as my brain starts to solidify again so if you read it and come back to more stuff just pretend you don't see it. so uh... enjoy the hot mess under the cut i guess
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ghost/simon riley
during the pregnancy/delivery
—the reality of you being pregnant didn’t really sink in until after you started showing. that’s when he was like oh shit this is actually real this is actually happening
—if he was a light sleeper before (which i’m absolutely sure he was), he’s practically awake with his eyes closed at night now. very sensitive to every single movement you make, whether it’s you slightly shifting in your sleep or you getting up to use the bathroom. can’t really “fall asleep” until he’s absolutely sure that you are.
—has the most horrific nightmares of all the things that could go wrong with you and the baby, and he always feels so guilty afterwards, as if he was somehow willing those things to happen. he never told you about them until years later either
—likes to whisper to the baby when he thinks you’re asleep and can’t hear (except you can, and it nearly brings you to tears)
—was anxious to let you leave the house, insisting on getting all the groceries and whatever else you needed so you wouldn't have to go outside
—is paying attention to and remembers all of the important medical info that the doctor tells you two at your maternity appointments, especially when pregnancy brain is getting the best of you
—simon can't remember the last time he's cried in his adult life, but when he gets to hold your baby for the first time and they latch their tiny little fingers onto his larger one, he certainly does.
random parenting moments
—mans can hear the baby crying before the baby is even crying. being a light sleeper + having incredible hearing is a goated combo. he'll race into the nursery and try to take care of whatever the issue is to avoid waking you up at all costs
—absolute hell to fucking no to the hot diggity dog no when it comes to corporal punishment. no ands, ifs, or buts. (for the record, i don't think any of these men would do this, but simon especially, given his past). and it'll be a freezing cold day in hell before simon raises his voice at your kids; he simply doesn't see the need to
—gives his kids washable markers and lets them color in his tattoos
—shooting my girl dad blaster at this man because i can. (*pew pew*) he's the best tea party attendant in the history of tea party attendants. doesn't matter that he can barely even fit one thigh on the tiny chairs at his daughters' kiddie princess table–he'll make it work!
—i can definitely see him having sons too, which i know would be really bittersweet for him. he's determined to be a better father than the one that life afforded him. seeing that brotherly bond between his sons would be really therapeutic for him :(
—very surprised that his kids find funny, mostly because he's got that dry sarcastic deadpan humor, as opposed to the slapstick-type humor that most kids at that age gravitate towards. he's certainly not complaining, though; he loves making them laugh. he swears his kids' laughter is one of the best sounds in the world.
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soap/johnny mctavish
during the pregnancy/delivery
—honestly is surprised at himself for deciding to settle down (finally). he knew he wanted a family eventually but he wasn't expecting it to happen so soon. he certainly isn't complaining though, because he thinks you'd be an amazing mother
—is constantly talking to your belly, even before the obgyn said that your baby had formed their ears. very determined for your kid to have his accent so he’s talking to them 24/7 lmfao
—and he definitely believes that the baby can communicate back 😭
—"okay, if you're a boy, what'd you think of this name? kick twice for yes."
—gives the absolute best foot rubs. would literally put a trained masseuse to shame
—so ecstatic when he finally gets his kid in his arms. he finally gets to see the little human that he's been talking to for the past several months; literally a dream come true
random parenting moments
—does the thing where he falls asleep on his back with the baby lying on his stomach
—his kids' first words will probably be curse words, no thanks to johnny 💀
—i'm picturing three kids: two boys (possibly twins; idk he just seems like a twin dad. it makes sense in my head, okay?)
—very relaxed parenting style, with an emphasis on letting his kids "fail" on their own and learning from their mistakes. relaxed shouldn't be confused with permissive, though, because he will definitely put his foot down and be more assertive if need be
—always down to play video games with his kids
—finds it absolutely hilarious to kiss you in front of the kids because they all make the most exaggerated sounds of disgust
—teaches your kids how to swim, which eventually leads to them convincing him to put a pool in the house (it took a lot of convincing but johnny just can't say no to them)
—has his own designated "dad" chair in the living room and gets disgruntled if he sees someone else sitting there. but one time he came back to one of the kids curled up in his chair late at night, fast asleep. he couldn't bring himself to wake them up so he just covered them in a blanket
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gaz/kyle garrick
during the pregnancy/delivery
—lowkey has a stronger nesting instinct than you lol 💀 constantly is cleaning the house not only for you, but because it makes him feel calm
—always willing to hold your belly for a few minutes (or however long you need) to relieve you of the weight of carrying a whole human inside of you for a while
—also adores talking to the baby through your stomach, and loves putting headphones on your belly to play them music
—down to try your craving combos with you. sometimes he like “this is incredible" and other times he's like "what is this monstrosity" lol
—when you guys were putting together the nursery you discovered that ky has an impeccable eye for interior design. most of the unique pieces of furniture and paintings in the nursery were picked out by him
—has the biggest smile on his face once he gets to hold his kid for the first time. like his face hurts thats how hard he's smiling
random parenting moments
—literally doesn't want to put that baby down. like at all 💀 you practically have to beg him to give you your daughter so you can at least feed her
"just let me hold her for 5 more minutes!"
"kyle, your daughter is going to starve if you don't give her to me!"
—i'm thinking two kids for kyle is the perfect number to him; gender doesn't matter to him :)
—tries to keep up with pop culture so he won't be called old by his kids (and fails)
—always down to game with his kids
—has a really hard time saying no to them 😭 if you weren't there to keep him in check, your kids would be so spoiled
—LOVESSS halloween. taking his kids costume shopping and taking them trick-or-treating is one of the highlights of his year. and he's always down to customize a costume, too. anything from buying a bunch of different pieces to make one look or sanding down some plastic armor and painting it to look weathered—he's so unbelievably creative
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john price
during the pregnancy/delivery
—collects sooo many books for the baby. especially loves the soft cloth books that have all of the different crinkly textures
—absolutely cherishes that first trimester where you’re not really showing and he gets to keep the two of you to himself and away from the rest of the world
—"sternly" tells the baby to stop kicking their mum (aka you lol)
—always has a protective arm around you while you two are out and about. was absolutely shocked by how many strangers would try and reach out and touch your stomach unprovoked once you started to pop. most of them were women, so the most he’d do was give them a hard look. still hated it though 🙄
—helps you make a checklist for your hospital bag + packs everything for you with military-like efficiency
—so so gentle when he holds his baby for the first time. he was never sure if he would get the chance to even be a father so it's quite emotional for him
random parenting moments
—your babies will have the largest vocabularies ever thanks to john, who refuses to use baby speak with his kids. instead, he speaks normally, as if the baby can understand him perfectly, and the results are pretty amusing
"love, did you move the almond butter?" john calls to you from downstairs.
"i swear i didn't!" you call back from upstairs, busy with your morning routine.
"hmph." he plants his hands on his hips, turning around, only to be met by the blinking stare of your infant daughter.
"darling, did you see your mother move the jar of almond butter?" he asks her, arms crossing over his chest.
*cue unintelligible-to-others-but-perfectly-understandable-to-john infant noises from the baby*
"bloody knew it. love, our daughter is saying you moved it. and she doesn't know how to lie yet, so i have no reason not to believe her."
—this man is so girl dad coded it's insane. but i'd like to think he'd have one son; he'd possibly be the middle or youngest kid
—you and the kids love to play "hide the bucket hat" from dad. price puts on his grumpy old man act but he secretly loves it because it always ends up with him chasing you guys until you all collapse in a laughing heap on the carpet
—constantly dropping bad dad jokes like he's paid to do it 😭 kids are always looking at him with a mixture of pity, disappointment, and mild annoyance
"dad, i'm hungry."
"why hello, hungry. my name's dad."
"no, your name is john.
"...how do you know that 😐"
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alejandro vargas
during the pregnancy/delivery
—always showing you off to LITERALLY everyone, especially his family
—always finds a way to bring up the fact that your pregnant in every single conversation with a stranger lololol
—if you're the first one in ale's family to be pregnant (which you very well may be because i headcanon him as the oldest child in his family heehee) prepare to be spoiled by his siblings and the rest of his family. you have enough gifted clothes for your kid to wear an entirely different outfit every day for a year i'm not even kidding
—very protective, but not in a controlling concerning way. it’s more so seeing you visibly pregnant with a ring that he put on your finger that gets him all riled up
—was driving like an actual mad man to get you to the hospital when you woke him up in the middle of the night and told him your water broke (and by "driving like a mad man", i mean he forgot to use his blinkers and ran one singualr stop sign lmfao)
—first time he got to hold his baby it was absolutely love at first sight. gives you the most tender kiss on the forehead to say "thank you"
random parenting moments
—if you have all girls he is SUCH a girl dad. i think out of all the boys, he's the one that i can say would 100% have all daughters. he's playing princesses, doing hair for school, letting the girls experiment with makeup on him, all the works.
—and he absolutely doesn't let those "oh you're trapped in a house with all of those girls poor you!" comments slide. like at all.
—"not trapped, just lucky." he always says (before glaring at the person once they turn around)
—tries so hard not to curse in front of his girls but fails 💀 swear jar is always full
—the idea that your girls can do and be anything they want is drilled in from day one. naturally, this means that ale is the biggest sports dad EVER. he's at every recital, every game, every showcase, every scrimmage– you name it, he's there if he can make it. whenever he can't be there, he's always doing two mandatory facetimes; a pep talk before the game, and a debrief after
—one non-negotiable? self-defense. signed up each of his girls for self defense classes when they each started middle school
—not overprotective by any means. i mean, he can definitely be protective at times, but he knows his girls can handle themselves (you two raised them, after all).
—takes saving for their quinces as seriously as saving for their college funds (as he should)
—secretly a huge disney fan. he's watching all the disney princess movies, pretending like he's doing it for his daughters, but he's really doing it for himself hehe. still whisper-yells everytime he watches snow white eat the poison apple 💀
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roldofo “rudy” parra
during the pregnancy/delivery
—is literally the most gentle person with you ever and it’s so sweet :(( always willing to massage out any knots you have in your shoulders or neck
—does all your pregnancy exercises with you (even though he’s not the one delivering the baby lol) just so you won’t feel alone :)
—always down to cook whatever cravings you desire (or run out to the nearest grocery store or gas station to get them)
—he's already a pretty touchy person but it's amplified times 10 during your pregnancy. he can't keeps his hands off of you, especially your stomach
—his abuela is always on back, asking you if he's taking good care of you and scolding him if she's sees you so much as lifting a plate by yourself 💀
—when your baby was born, he was quite sensitive to the noises of the hospital, getting fussy and crying a bit whenever he heard doors closing and loud beeps and such. you noticed however, that when rudy was holding him whenever this happened, he never shushed him to keep him quiet. he would simply rock your son back and forth, whispering quietly to him about whatever was on his mind until the newborn would calm down. just witnessing this alone solidified the fact that you'd basically picked the perfect man to be the father of your children.
random parenting moments
—carries his kids everywhere when they're young, even when they can walk. he just loves holding them :(
—incredibly rational, even in the face of conflict. when your kids get to be teenagers and get into typical teenage trouble and whatnot, he sits down with you first to break down what happened and what an appropriate response would be. not a fan of reacting on emotion (which teenagers can make very tempting to do) , which is always appreciated by both you and the kids
—i think he'd have the biggest family out of all the boys; i'm thinking 4 at the very least, with more girls than boys
—takes birthday party planning seriously, even when they're little and won't remember it all
—lovesss cooking with his babies. he gets ‘em those little kiddie knives that are safe to use and teaches them the proper technique and everything
—very frantic whenever one of them gets sick. even if it’s the mildest headache or a slight upset stomach, he just hates seeing any of them in pain
—drop-off duty warrior. has a whole system in place to get all the kids into the car on time and he’s literally never been late. it’s honestly very impressive
—vicks vapor rub is the solution to everything. sore throat? vapor rub. headache? vapor rub. bad day? vapor rub. broken leg? vapor rub (jk) (not really)
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könig
during the pregnancy/delivery
—if you have mood swings, könig has to try his absolute hardest not to panic right along with you. he knows that your hormones are giving you a hard time right now, so he really wants to be your rock through all of it (however, if you start crying out of nowhere, he'll probably definitely start panicking)
—once you start showing, he likes talking to the baby in german to "give them a head start" (his words not mine)
—also good luck with that delivery babes because that's gonna be a 10 pounder at LEAST 😭 high probability you're getting a c-section
—if there's any complications, especially with a c-section, best believe any shred of social anxiety is disappearing and he's running on pure adrenaline when he yells at tells the medical staff in the room that he refuses to watch you and his child die here
—was so thankful you two were both okay that his hands were shaking a little when he cut the umbilical cord
—holds his kid like they're made of glass because he's so big that he fears hurting them :(
random parenting moments
—when the kids finally get to the toddler stage, he's pumped. they can run now, and he absolutely loves chasing them. also the kids love to treat their dad like a tree, climbing him and dangling off his arms like he's a human swing, which has given you a mild heart attack more than once 😭
—loves reading to them every night before bed
—i’m thinking two kids for him; either a boy and a girl or two girls
—big fan of doing doing arts and crafts with them (your house is constantly covered in scraps of construction paper)
—also loves taking the kids to a local fairground where they can go on a bunch of rides, pet some animals at the petting zoo, and play games. könig is usually too tall to ride the rides comfortably (rip), but he doesn't mind. as long as the kids are having fun, that's all that matters to him!
—yearly trips to visit his mom and grandma in austria are an absolute must
—kids are always clinging to him during the colder months because he just radiates heat
—his homemade remedy: soup! the kids absolutely love the different soups that he makes and it always seems to make them feel better whenever they're under the weather :)
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lysil7777 · 4 months
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Yan! Dom! Fem! Reader x Sub! Boy
"P-please just.. just leave me alone!" James whimpered, tears welling up in his brown eyes, cheeks and ears flushing
"Aww what's wrong Jamie? Are you gonna cry? Did I hurt your feelings? Do you need your Mommy? You lean in to bite his ear and then whisper "I could be your mommy~"
Jamie hated himself for being unable to stop the moan that came out when you nipped at his ear and hated himself even more for letting you bully and harass him everyday.
When Jamie started college he swore things would be different from high school, he'd be more social, more motivated, and less shy. But 3 months later and the only person he talked to on a daily basis was you.
The first time you two met was in class, he'd braved up the courage to ask you for a pencil, he didn't really need one but he was trying to get out of his comfort zone.
You obliged but only after teasing him a bit asking what he'd give you in return, he got all embarrassed not knowing how to properly return your banter, and offered to pay you which you found very amusing. After a few more interactions you started to grow very fond of the nerd who sat behind you in Calc and before you knew it he was always on your mind.
The way he'd get embarrassed and look away from you when he didn't know what to say, the nervous habits he had when he was out by himself, how kind he was without anyone noticing, he was your adorable little specimen, for you only. And of course the best part was how naughty he could be, oh he was so innocent at the same time tho. You'd lost count of the number of times you'd watched him through his window, jerking it to soft domme porn, pet play, degradation, and dumbification, he was a pervy little nerd but the shame he felt afterward made you want to climb through his window and show him how much more depraved you were.
"What are you talking about y/n, I'm older than you that doesn't even make sense" he rambled looking anywhere but your eyes that were boring into his skull. God why did you have to be so close, why did you have to smell so good and be so pretty and-
His thoughts were cut off when you grabbed his chin and made him look at you directly
"I just think you're the kind of guy who needs direction, someone to help make those difficult decisions a sweet pet like you can't really decide for themselves, and why should you, that pretty little head of yours shouldn't have to worry about a single thing" you cooed squishing his cheeks together and making his lips push out
"I'm eighteen y/n, I can make my own decisions" Jamie argued or tried to through squished lips
At 5'3" you stood an entire nine inches under Jamie, but that didn't make him feel any less small in your presence
Letting go of his face you took a step back pretending to think for a moment "Alright then, I'll let you choose. Give me your number or get wedgied."
Jamie stood there dumb for a second, pants growing tighter and his skin warmer
"W-what?" He laughed nervously
Pulling his face closer to yours by the collar of his shirt you repeated your earlier statement to him in a slow demeaning manner, as if he was brain dead
"Give me your number or you get boo boo, oh no!" Your lips turned down in faux sadness
Jamie wasn't sure what to make of the situation, you usually weren't this physical with him, he was a little scared but mostly turned on. He didn't want to admit it but he had the teeniest tiniest crush on you and he blamed the stupid porn he'd been watching but he only looked into it because of you!
"I-I don't.." he paused
On one hand, he wanted to give you his number but on the other hand he'd never thought getting wedgied sounded so appealing
"You don't hmm~? Well, that just won't do. What happened to my big tough guy? Who was so strong and independent? Do you know darling? Ah, of course you don't. You're just as clueless as a little puppy dog and as cute as one too <3"
The new nickname shocked Jamie and caused him to audibly gasp, his hard-on fully visible now
"You can't j-just-aghhh"
You gripped him by his hair to cut him off
"Oh is puppy trying to give the orders now? What a silly little mutt you are, you really don't know how this works do you? The tent in your pants suggests otherwise but here you are telling me what I can and can't do with my property"
"I-I'm not yours y/n! A-and I'm not a pervert!!"
That first statement made your blood boil and you didn't even realize that you'd pushed Jamie down to his knees
"A good dog doesn't speak, a good dog gets treats and rewards but you're not being a good dog, Jamie. I know your tiny brain might not have comprehended it yet but you are mine, you're only mine. Who else is gonna talk to such a pervert hm? You were made for me, nobody else should ever see you like this, in fact, nobody ever sees you the way I do."
Before he could get a word out you pinned him to his position by placing your shoe on his clothed dick and reached over him to grab his boxers. Putting pressure on both simultaneously had him squirming and letting out the most sinful moans that made you wanna take him right then and there.
"Y-nnnnnnn" he whined, grinding up to help release some of the tension but each movement made the fabric between his ass more uncomfortable
"Shhh puppy, this is the punishment you've been given, I wouldn't be a very good owner if I didn't discipline my pet, you just gotta learn how to be good for me mkay? Don't you wanna learn how to be good and get rewards and pets and walkies~?"
All the new sensations made Jamie's head spin, his body felt like it was burning up from the inside out, his head was fuzzy, his dick was so much more sensitive than it had ever been while he was touching it and he couldn't place why the slight uncomfortableness of the wedgie made his parts throb even more, the whole situation was so intense poor boy couldn't fully wrap his doggy brain around it.
"I-I'm so close y/nnn, oh godd please, give me more! 'M so closeee" he panted not caring how pathetic he looked
"Already? Such a greedy pup for me hehe~ Have you learned your lesson, Jamie? Do you even deserve to cum against the bottom of my shoe?" You sang in a taunting manner pressing down even harder with your shoe
"I-, aghhhhh ohh yess fuck, YES! I'm yours y/n only yours! Promise! I'll-uggghh I'll be-hah hah- good! Just for you!"
"Atta boy! That wasn't so hard was it pup?" Finally letting go of his underwear you continued to let Jamie grind against your foot until he got to the edge
"M- boutta...cum!!" At this point, Jamie had grabbed your leg, chin resting on your thick thigh, eyes teary and glazed over staring up at you as if you were a goddess
Softly cupping his face you lifted it off your leg and removed any contact from his dick causing him to let out strings of breathy and high-pitched whines
You sat down and pulled him into your lap, gently wiping away the fresh fallen tears off his face
"W-*hiccup*why y/n, was so close...so close"
His protest died down with a stern look from you
"You'll be alright puppy, I promise. I'm gonna take care of you from now on, you are mine after all"
The rest of the evening was spent holding your new puppy, rubbing his tummy and flustering him with all the soft attention you gave him
He couldn't believe he got so lucky as to experience you, and as long as he considers being owned and expected to heed your everyword, he was lucky!
End <3
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laurzzz · 22 days
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Robo-Boyfriends AU (My Sona Version) - Effort
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Woe word-less comic be upon ye! I think it's very fitting with my sona being mouthless LMAO. I haven't worked on RBAU in a short while so take this thingy before I continue to work on MO again :thumbsup::thumbsup:
Explanation/vent under the cut (it's VERY long, so know you've been warned)
I'm tired. I'm tired of pretending it doesn't affect me at all. I'm tired of not wanting to express genuine frustration on my blog. I've been trying my best to keep my blog and every other platform I have as a place of escape for myself. I want it to only be filled with mostly good and optimistic things. I already get enough crap and more in my private life, I don't want to see reminders of them in places where I want to escape. Which is why I've been pretending to not see the numbers, that I don't feel under appreciated, that I don't vent as much when I want to or when I do I'm quick to delete them.
I know that many artists online go through this and have expressed their frustration on this experience-- where they put in so much effort and time on their works and they barely get any feedback or interactions or when they do get feedback it's often on the works they don't even put that much effort in. I love RBAU and Cloud Nine.. they're my AUs that basically gained the most traction here but the time and effort I gave to making those comics and random pieces of gradient-themed drawings don't even compare to the rendered pieces or the animated works I've made for them.
As much as I appreciate the reblogs and comments on the posts that reached so many people, I often wonder why it's always the works that I didn't put my all into. It makes me feel discouraged... not in continuing to draw or make creative work, but to actually put in more effort. But if I'd do that--stop putting in more effort-- then I would only make myself even more miserable as I don't like stagnation. I hate stagnation. I hate getting bored of the things that mean so much to me. Sharing my art and improving on it means too much to me.
But it's weird because I tend to observe the interactions with other blogs. They look to put in so much effort and make such beautiful rendered pieces that I adore and yet they are appreciated as deserved. While there are artists who make "shitposts" (their words) who also gain so much traction and appreciation. This observation makes the voices in my brain start correlating the quality of my work to the interactions. If I'm being completely transparent, I get these thoughts a lot. But I also don't believe them. I don't want to believe them.
Before anyone starts saying "ohhh you shouldn't attach your appreciation of your work from external factors" etc etc-- I KNOW. I am FULLY aware. I'm completely aware and have rationalized this situation over and over. That this is just how the internet goes. That these are factors I don't have control over. That my work is gold and it doesn't have to be determined as such by numbers. That someday the people who appreciate my works will find me. I. Know.
Still, knowing these things doesn't make the feelings disappear. It's like I want to be mad, and cry at the same time but also understand that I just can't really do anything about this but let it be. It's as if the more I care about a project, the less likely people will. I don't want to pretend like I don't care about a project just for it to be appreciated. But I also don't want to feel as if I'm not getting as much appreciation or attention that I think my work deserves.
I've been experimenting with my works and how I post them here on Tumblr and on YT since last year. The ones that are shitposts are seriously what gets more attention AHAHAHA I am laughing with frustration. Look, I love making memes and poking fun with characters as much as the next viewer and artist but by god. I can't just keep churning out funny haha low substance stuff in exchange for interactions. That's not the kind of artist that I am. I like making things that has lore; that has depth to them. Like how I tend to make lore heavy AUs right after getting my silly, lighthearted works blow up just to remind myself that the relationship I have with my works will not grow if I keep chasing after the interactions, the numbers by prioritizing quantity over quality.
Or maybe people just don't like my ideas? I guess that's a possibility too. Maybe my ideas just don't resonate with people enough. It's not "consumable" enough. Or maybe they don't like my art/writing/animation style. Yet more factors that's out of my control. But I also get told that people like my art, my writings, my animations. And they mean so, so much to me. But it just doesn't add up sometimes, y'know? If people like my work and stick around because they like my art no matter the fandom then why don't I see it? Thoughts like these make me feel so ungrateful actually.
I'm sure there are many people who look up to me as an artist and think how "popular" I am. I've been told this so many times. And yet, I don't feel either of those as strongly. Hell, even as I type this long vent out, I feel like people will not even care. Or worse. Perhaps they may think I'm focusing on the wrong things or think I'm being insecure and jealous of other people's well-deserved appreciation from others.
For the record, I am not. I think every single (actual, not AI) artists put in so much effort and love to their own works most of the time and if they get appreciation for it then I'm sure as hell that they've been seeking for it too and now that they're getting it and it's there then they should bask in it and rejoice. They really should.
Sigh. This is getting far too long. I'll stop here. I hope my words and my thoughts came out clearly. I'm writing this out late at night. Don't worry, I'll still be putting in the effort I've been putting in lately. I'm still going to work on MO, and give my best to make Assassin Eclipse's design to be as on par with Assassins Sun and Moon. I'm still going to write and continue the lore in the fic. I'm still going to animate the lore-heavy Welcome Home animation I've been working on slowly day by day. I just wanted to let this all out. Venting it to my friends just seem to not be enough. I gotta express it where people can see it. I think this is just my last straw too. I've been holding out for so long and 2024 really hasn't been that kind to me lately that I just can't anymore.
Anyway, the next post will be much lighter, I promise.
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spacebarbarianweird · 4 months
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I wish I could do this as an ask from @astarionsbeloved but Tumblr is bein Tumblr.
I'd like to ask for a head canon! Astarion with an autistic partner? As an adult autistic afab who was very late diagnosed and is constantly struggling to balance things (including skill regression which I seriously wish they'd talk about more), I'd love to read someone else's personal head canon for this.
Ok, this one was difficult! Thanks @rachelle-on-the-run for tips!
Astarion x Autistic Tav
Masterlist
Headcanons
You have always been aware something is off with you.
It's not like you are sick or deranged, but you have had difficulties communicating with other people or understanding what this world wants from you.
You can't read social cues, often don't get the context, and are absolutely oblivious about flirting.
Your family has always blamed it on you - just take a grip! What do you mean, you can't go outside without a weird black cape that was given to you ages ago?
What do you mean you can't hold your tears? Are you a toddler?
Grow up!
The kidnapping and getting the tadpole in your brains really take a toll on you.
You can't sleep in the tent. You've lost your black cape.
There are too many people around you. You have to sleep in different places every night. You have to eat what you manage to find, not your comfort food.
You see it as a chance to get this grip. You can. You are an adult. You can make your brain work!
For a while, you manage to do so. But you can't understand why Astarion pays so much attention to you.
Until Gale tells you that it's flirting.
You are embarrassed. With little to no sexual experience, you just thought Astarion was friendly!
And you absolutely can't read the room which ends up with Gale being offended by your comments about his personal life, and Shadowheart almost puts some sort of a curse on you just because you blurted something insensitive.
And yep, you've crossed Astarion's boundaries a few times. Because you just couldn't understand why certain things hurt him.
And then, something horrible happens.
There is a battle. Not the bloodiest, not the most difficult.
But you have a meltdown.
It's just too much. Too many sounds, too many people, too much, too much.
You cry and scream, throwing objects into the wall.
The whole party is embarrassed.
But not Astarion.
He gently takes you to the camp where he tugs you in the blanket while speaking something soft in Elven.
And then he leaves you alone making sure no one from the camp disturbs you.
When you feel better you crawl outside to notice him sitting with a book.
"I am sorry", you sniff.
"Don't. It's not your fault. Besides, I should admit, you've done your best all this time."
You are shocked. There is understanding in his voice.
"It's just how your brain works, Tav. You are overwhelmed easily, it's ok."
He helps you to re-create your routine making it workable at the camp.
He even gets you a comfort cape - not like the one you used to have, but a very similar one.
Astarion also looks for food you can eat as a picky eater and scolds anyone at camp who tries to ostracize you
At the sametime , he doesn't allow anyone to infantilize you.
You are a grown adult so is he. You can make decisions and deal with consequences.
For him it's a nice change as well - he has to be very clear with you saying what he wants and why.
You have to deal with a stigma - people who know you often call Astarion a predator because he sleeps with a person who is "mentally ill."
He doesn't take any of this bs. You aren't ill. You know what you do.
Mostly.
With time, he learns how to deal with your meltdowns and even predict them. He professionally takes you away from the possible triggers and makes sure you are okay.
You shower him with your affection - sometimes unpredictable, sometimes crossing his boundaries.
You accidentally help him deal with his back scars. You just didn't realize you weren't supposed to touch them.
You started rubbing his back with your gentle fingers and before Astarion managed to get away from you, he suddenly realized it felt nice.
It is still a lot of work for you two.
But you glad to share this journey with each other.
--
Tag list
@tugoslovenka @marcynomercy @wintersire @vixstarria@not-so-lost-after-all @ashiro20 @theearthsfinalconfession @herstxrgirl @starlight-ipomoea @micropoe10 @astarion-imagine-archive @veillsar @elora-the-slutty-songstress @fayeriess @lumienyx@astarion-beloved @tallymonster @caitlincat-95@tragedybunny @valeprati @lynnlovesthestars
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lastwordsofadyingstar · 10 months
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71 :)
You can send it into DMs if you prefer.
Caffeine.
71) Start typing out your dirtiest fantasy you can think of and don’t stop til you get so embarrassed you can’t go on any longer. Just make sure it’s actually something you’re into!
Okay I've been thinking about this fantasy for around a week now but I've been too busy to fully entertain the thought. It started with the post you sent me (I think I reblogged it if anyone's curious) about someone recording while they're fucking my ass so that they can replay it later for me to watch. The idea of someone doing this then blackmailing me with the video in order to get me to do increasingly humiliating and degrading things just turns me on so much.
So I'm thinking that this is the first time anyone has ever fucked me, I'm a complete and utter virgin but instead of paying attention to my pussy they decide my ass is a way better hole for them to start with, it's tighter, they can go deeper and the best part is that it'll hurt me more. They're being all loving and attentive, kissing me gently, telling me how beautiful I'll look with my hole stretched out around them. Just doing all the right things to make me feel comfortable and at ease. Everything goes well, it hurts at first to have something so thick and hard stretching my virgin asshole, but I eventually relax into it. I'm mostly on all fours or on my stomach so I don't really notice them recording till the very next day.
I'm woken up the next day with them fucking my ass again, it's so sore from the previous night and I put up a bit of a fight, they're relentless pressing my down with their entire body weight as they wreck my hole. The only lube they're using is their cum they plugged into me from the previous night. My attempts at resisting seem futile as they're so much bigger and stronger than me, I eventually give up crying bitterly which only makes them fuck me even harder.
They eventually cum in me, once more my ass is a gaping mess full of their cum, my cheeks are tear soaked and yet I'm so wet there's a puddle that formed underneath me, which they tease me about relentlessly. Only a slut would get this wet from being fucked this roughly. I try telling them that I don't want to do this again and that's when she show me the videos they took, the one from the night before is tame but in this one I'm crying and begging for them to stop all while my pussy drips down my thighs and I make a desperate attempt to grind myself against the bed. I tell them to delete it, this soon turns to begging when they threaten to post it online if I don't do exactly what they want.
I have to option but to agree and their requests start out tame, I have to record myself putting increasingly large buttplugs I'm my ass every day. I'm to remain plugged constantly and throughout the day they'll randomly demand that I go into a restroom stall and take a photo to show them how obedient I'm being. This slowly devolves into bigger and bigger toys, till my ass is constantly ready to be used by them. I'm also made into their personal free use toy, merely a fleshlight they use to jerk off in.
Then their requests start to elevate, they start putting in household appliances into my ass, pens, markers at first to try and see how many will fit in me, then bigger things like the TV remote. Soon it turns into anything they can get their hands on, one day I'm cooking in the kitchen and they bend me over the counter take out my daily buttplug and shove an entire cucumber up my ass. Its incredibly humiliating but also makes me so embarrassingly wet. They record almost all of this so the material they use to blackmail me increases everytime. What's more embarrassing is how much I enjoy this torture, my brain gets fuzzy and my knees get weak everytime they use me.
Maybe it's Stockholm syndrome of some kind but this whole dynamic starts to feel comforting to me, then one day they blindfold me and tell me they have a surprise for me. I don't know what to expect but all I feel is my hands being tied behind me and a cool breeze passing over my bare skin, I'm bent over expecting the usual sadistic torture. What I don't expect are unfamiliar cocks stretching out my holes. It was established from the very beginning my pussy was a no go zone, only used to lube up cocks to fuck my ass. So now I'm bent over with two cocks in my ass and one in my mouth and from the sounds of it they're even more people in line waiting to use me. (Okay this is where I'm going to stop 😭)
I'm so incredibly horny right now so thanks for the ask and I hope you enjoy reading this <3
This isn't proofread btw so escuse any grammatical errors
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gurugirl · 8 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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streets-in-paradise · 8 months
Text
Third Fate - Achilles x Fiancee!Reader
Tumblr media
Requested by Anon
" Hey, I found your tumblr and I'm loving what you do here, mostly troy. I don't know if you're getting requests, but if you are, you can make one for Achilles based on that scene where he's told he can go and win glory in battle and have his name spoken for centuries or he can stay and be loved, have children, wife? I would love to see Achilles receive more love, with a wife and children. Feel free to make any changes you want, thank you very much in advance."
Hi, anon! I got this way sooner than what i expected because I was really in the mood to write it. The bittersweet mix of angst and fluff was exactly what I wanted to get into this week. Hope you will enjoy it :)
For a lenght concern i kept it in a pre war, pre marriage discussion of the prophecy. If once you read it you happen to like what i wrote here let me know and I can post a continuation showing what happens next ( i originally planned to do so, but it became too long so i prefer to save that for a second part)
Word Count 3.200
Warnings: Standard Achilles sexyness ( no smut, but if you watched the film you understand what I mean with this.) Some aspects of both, the canon of the film and the source material it is based on, were changed to fit the request in my envision of the story.
Summary: Terrible news disrupt the eve of your engagement to Achilles. He is called to fight in Troy and the spectacular war that the gossip foretells seems to be the destiny of greatness he had always dreamed with, but the price he has to pay for it is his happiness with you. The three days ultimatum Odysseus gave him is his moment to decide, but he won't do it without you.
Note: Inspired by two prompts by @creativepromptsforwriting
Prompt 1014 - " Well, the prophecy was a bit unclear about this part."
Prompt 1010 - " Let's not worry about the future. Let's just take this one kiss at a time."
"I like how that sounds."
Tags: @mysticaldeanvoidhorse @helie-brain
There was no easy way for him to explain to you what he had just found out. After Odysseus arrived bringing the news of the war in Asia you were already sad thinking of the distance that would keep your fiancé far away from you for an uncertain amount of time, but the real hardships surpassed your expectations. The whispers of fame claimed the conflict escalated enough to become the greatest war your world had ever seen, but you still imagined it as one war like many others he fought before. No matter the challenges found in battle, Achilles would always return to you. 
Except that he wouldn’t,not from Troy. His mother told him of an old prophecy announced before his birth assuring that war would be the peak of his consecration as a hero, but the price for this glorification was his death. From this fact fate allowed him only two options of choice. He could either stay in Greece and be loved during his lifetime knowing history would forget him, or go to Troy to make his name immortal facing his doom. 
To the end of his tale all you could do was cry, convinced that you were losing him forever. All your plans faded in just one instant, the life you dreamed together was gone. 
“ I’m not dead yet, look at me.” He sweetly mocked you. “ How can you be so sure already that I’m here to tell you I’m abandoning you to get myself killed?” 
You could tell he was trying, but that wasn’t making it any better. 
“ If you don’t go, you will regret it. “ Was your dry comeback. “I know you, Achilles. You live to fight, staying away from the battlefield feels to you like a punishment. I can never keep you for long, not even when war calls you to fight other greeks. Why would it be different this time? You were born for this war, not to labrate the fields and raise goats. If Troy is the fate of greatness that you deserve, I can’t ask you to abandon this life purpose for the sake of our wedding.” 
Despite how much he loved to see people worshiping as a hero, he was very aware to be a man in your eyes. Your approach was realistic and showed how well you knew him, much better than some of the men bleeding with him in war. If you fell for him, you did it knowing what to expect. Begging him to change his nature to fit the requirements of peaceful domesticity was never in your plans and you wouldn’t try it even if you were desperate. 
That didn’t mean he wouldn’t be able to surprise you on occasions, exactly as he did when he proposed to you freshly arrived from the victory against King Triopas and his giant Boagrius. 
“ Do you think I wouldn’t give it all away for you? Then I guess you don’t know me as well as you claim. “ He teased you with insistence. “ I can do well raising horses, I have some magnificent ones already. Do you know that horses are one of the most remarkable exportations of the trojans? If their city gets sacked by greeks and I manage to buy a few of theirs to mix with mine we would get an excellent rare breed. “ 
You cleaned your face and warned him against the mockery. 
“ Don’t play with me! With the memories of your proposal still fresh, fate demands me to let you go. Being your wife is my dream, but I can’t have you knowing I would be destroying everything you worked so hard for. The immortality of your name is a cause bigger than me, the happy marriage we could have had or the children I could have given you. It can’t be a coincidence that this war gets unleashed precisely now, just as we are taking the first step to formalize our union.” 
“ They are pressuring me to choose, it’s true, but the load of this decision lies in the fact that I want both more than anything.” 
Achilles interrupted himself to take your hand, inviting you to abandon the distance you were forcing ever since he began to explain the situation. 
“ I need you by my side, it’s the only vulnerability I have ever allowed myself. A glorifying death doesn’t scare me, but surviving far enough without you would be torture.” 
Your lips parted in sincere amazement for that confession, so unusual of him. 
“ A slow agony. If the war doesn’t kill me first, lovesickness will.” He continued. “ The comfort of lonely men fighting in foreign lands is dreaming with their distant wives at night, the hope of returning to them makes life bearable. I would not have this, from the moment I would board my ship I will be aware you are lost to me. All I would have is the wound of my pierced heart still bleeding love for you and plenty of time to wonder how wonderful it would have been to make you mine… Sooner or later I would lose my mind. Knowing glorious death would be the only comfort already promised to me, I would roam the battlefield searching for it. It’s most likely I would perform incredible acts worthy of being remembered, but I would do it as the insane man who is desperately looking for the warrior meant to kill him. The poets would write for centuries about the madness of Achilles.” 
“ Aren’t they singing that already? Many people have described you as a madman.” You teased him, unsure of how to comfort him. “ Not that I mind, but that is a fact.” 
“ They have no idea, unfulfilled passion would consume me in such an incredible way that Paris would feel a reasonable man hearing about me.” 
He dragged you even closer so he could hold you in his arms and you fell for his touch chuckling sweetly. 
“ Would you be competing against both princes at once while fighting the trojans?” 
“ The warrior prince and the lover boy wish they could compare to me, I win in each one of their expertise areas. “ He followed your provocation, then whispered at you. “ I fight as fiercely as I love. “ 
You bit your bottom lip to avoid an audible response, but your flustered face was speaking for you. For an instant you felt as if nothing had changed between you and you have never heard the terrible omens. 
“... Maybe that’s why no woman is meant to have you, the great goddesses would be jealous. “ You theorized out loud while caressing his cheek. “ It’s too much, like Icharus flying too close to the sun… Although I would be lying if I deny I would gladly burn and fall for you.” 
Achilles stopped the flow of words taking your breath away with kisses that numb your senses, but not your mind. He had the habit of expressing important things in short, ambiguous phrases or not saying anything at all. When the hungry kissing began to escalate and you felt his hands roaming the sides of your body you understood that was his answer. If he would be saying goodbye, he would at least try to keep himself distant to make it easier for both of you. Given that his involvement on the war would ruin your chances to formalize, he would be encouraging you to find someone else. 
 He was pulling up your skirt slowly, evidently searching for the heat underneath. The opposite of what you would need from him if he would be about to leave you, so you stopped him right away because you realized what that meant. 
" This isn't the time to act impulsively. I know you love me as strongly as i love you, but you have to choose what truly matters the most to you. If you decide to stay, others will be making history and maybe the pleasures of the thalamus will not be enough to cure the resentment for what you will be missing. Think carefully, hearts can change and the future wife you adore now can one day become the load that brought you down. " 
Although a sensical objection, that didn't seem to preoccupy him much. 
" Never, you were made for me. The omens were very clear, staying grants me a blissful life with you for the price of letting my name fade. I have only two options: be loved and forgotten or waste my life following the fool's orders until death will reward me with immortal glory. Between spending the rest of my life with you or with Agamemnon, I think it's clear where I would rather be. "
The sacrifice was too great, ultimate proof of his love for you. Behind that relaxed phrasing Achilles attempted to de-dramatize giving up his biggest personal dream for the one you shared, what you still considered wasn’t fair. 
Responding with an equal offer was not only what your heart began to crave, but an alternative solution neither of you had considered. 
“ There has to be another way, your mother never said what I must do in all of this.” 
He wasn’t sure of where you wanted to point, but began to suspect it. 
“ Well, the prophecy was a bit unclear about this part.” 
The mischievous happiness renewed in your eyes let him know you had just found hope in the most insane of places. 
“ Don’t give me that look, this is what happens for leaving you a while alone with Odysseus! Now you think you can outsmart destiny and find me a third end.” 
You smirked with pride before presenting your idea. 
“ I can’t interfere with yours, only my own. If no part is clearly stated for me in this sacred command sent to you, then nothing stops me from choosing one. Instead of having you abandon your dream to stay with me, I’ll follow it with you.” 
His eyes were wide open staring at you, disbelief making him feel you were then playing with him. 
“ Are you telling me we could just get married and board the ship to Troy the morning after our wedding night? What kind of honorable nuptials would that be? When all the wives of the country would be giving their farewell to their husbands, would you follow me like slaves are meant to? War holds no virtuous position for a woman to occupy, it would be a stain to your reputation your parents would curse me for. “ 
“ If your baby cousin can go, so can I.” You justified yourself.” To stop me you will have to stop Patroclus and we know that is not going to happen.” 
The exactitude of your threat made him feel frustrated. Not because he wouldn’t love having you with him, but since he was refusing to publicly humiliate you like that. All Greece would know you were going to be the only wife following her husband to Troy for unexplainable reasons and they could judge your morals. Decent wives were meant to wait for their husbands and take care of their homes, not let passion distract them from their social duties. War camps were masculine places meant to be despised by the women, since their only female presence was typically in a state of degradation. Besides, Helen had already caused a moral breach shaming the greek concept of marriage and that was the reason pushing the fight. People would be judgemental of your relationship, they would question you for immorality and him for lacking authority to make you stay like a normal wife should. 
He wasn’t thinking about him anymore, of protecting his name and the weight of his masculine prestige. He was extremely worried about you and the consequences it could bring when he wouldn’t be there to protect you. 
“ Do you sincerely want to go to Troy and watch me die?” 
“ It’s still better than watching you sail knowing you will never come back.” You terminated in response . “ I have heard the city is built to withstand a ten year siege, enough time for us to have a life together before destiny will reclaim you.” 
Arguing with you was hard, even if the idea was insane you would find ways to make it sound logical. 
“ A camp on the trojan beach is no place to start a family. “ He replicated softly, just letting you know he was trying to make you understand you couldn’t ask that. “ What are we going to do when the children come? Because they will, eventually. If you become my wife no omen of death is going to stop me from making love to you.” 
You smirked innocently, ready to deliver a justification. 
“ I'm not naive, Achilles! Do you think I don’t know what happens in those camps? Captives get pregnant all the time, so it's not impossible to go through it there. It may not be ideal, but I can make it. If you would leave me here and break our relationship to protect me from your fate, you could still put a baby inside your finest war trophy girl.” 
“ And who said I’m leaving?” He questioned you. “ I’m not doing it and I am not breaking up with you. Now stop with this nonsense, my wife can’t be giving birth surrounded by death.” 
“ But trojan women can? Because births aren’t going to stop there. “ You insisted, sitting near and acting as if you were two civil parts on a trial. “ Hector has a baby boy, if he can be a father in this mess so can you.” 
The provocation made him hold a groan, but he turned back and kicked the nearest surface as a frustration release outlet. 
“ It’s different for him, his wife is a princess and they have a city to defend. “ He tried to articulate in fast speaking, doing all he could to not show signs of anger growing because of your stubbornness. “ I don’t want you to have the life of a war captive, to denigrate yourself for me.” 
It was very sweet, you were feeling his pain but he had to understand yours too. 
“ As long as you are still breathing I will not accept a life without you. When the time comes I will embrace grief, but I’ll cry for you as your widow. In the meantime I don't want no one else, I’ll have the ground of your tent as thalamus and I’ll have your children.” 
He gave a few steps towards you, presenting one more solid concern. 
“ What will be of all of you when I'm gone?” 
That should have been a strong preoccupation making you desist, but it didn’t. 
“ We will be alright. They will inherit your share of the sacking, we know your death is linked to the fall of Troy so I can assume we will win something. Given that the House of Aeacus would possess fresh new heirs to renew the bloodline, I may even be able to bargain with Agamemnon the throne of Phthia for one of them. He hates you, but he would not be politically capable to refuse if you become the maximum fallen hero of the war he just won.” 
At that point he felt true powerlessness because he just couldn’t convince you out of it for your own good. 
“ They can’t grow in a warzone, think of the ruthless people they will become.  Those kids would not know any better until it would be too late for them. I don’t want a soulless soldier as heir, people saying Achilles’ son has surpassed the brutality of the father.” 
“ Let our little monsters run free through the camp, they will turn out fine if we guide them right. “ You imagined out loud, not scared at all by the dark warning. “ I can’t wait to see them messing around, you will be in tears the first time one of them will grab a wooden sword trying to copy their father.” 
Illusion was starting to make his negative stance harder to maintain, he loved what you were saying. It sounded so wonderful that he couldn’t help find some sensical feeling in it. There was only one detail you haven’t solved for his resistance to fall completely. 
“ How would I fight the enemy worried for you? You will be the only married woman around thousands of men and although I'm terrifying to most of them, I can’t keep control at all times. Some of those men will not be myrmidons, they will not know who you are.” 
“ That’s the best part: I’ll keep Patroclus bussy.” You announced with excitement, knowing well he wouldn’t resist it. “ I know you don’t trust him in an open battleground yet, but he would not accept being left behind so you have to take him or he would never forgive you. With me on board you have a safe mission to give him that would keep him away from combat but still make him feel a hero. By the time you will judge him ready to charge into battle my presence will be naturalized and his vigilant eye won’t be needed anymore.” 
Hope was truly hitting him because he started to feel as if the crazy plan could work if you all would make it work out. Most of the persons he loved the most could be with him for the rest of his lifetime, making the surviving gap before the consecration worth living. His little cousin, his best friend and his wife along with his future children all gathered like some warrior family. 
A taste of happiness before the end, walk the two roads simultaneously into a third fate. 
“ Blessed be your stubbornness, you wonderful woman! “ He praised you, surprise making his attitude switch as he rushed towards you. “ How can you be in every detail? You are insane, but I love you. I don’t deserve you, I can’t believe this.” 
He made you smile and by that point you knew you were about to win. 
“What exactly? My incredible ingeniousness, my gorgeous looks?” 
“ That you love me so much, '' He admitted, then picked you up bridal style. “ That you will be my wife and I will brag about having you to both greeks and trojans. I will not rest until you will be the most honored person in that camp alongside me, your sacrifice will be part of my legend and maybe that will be my start to repay you. “ 
His immense gratitude was making you chuckle due to the unusual intensity, but he wouldn’t stop. 
“ I’ll love you to my last breath, I promise you that.” 
You were all smiles while caressing the strands of hair falling at the sides of his face. 
“That’s all I want. No other payment you can offer matters to me because my will for sacrifice comes from love, just like yours.” You purred blissfully. “ Let’s not worry about the future, let’s just take this one kiss at a time.” 
Mesmerized as he was, he replied against your lips. 
“ I like how that sounds.” 
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thosewildcharms · 16 days
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Any personal headcanons on Rick and Michonne as a couple? Like their favorite things about the other, what they argue about, love languages ect. lol they’ve set up camp in my brain and I just want more of them 🙇🏻‍♀️
this is so funny because i've been thinking about their love languages ever since danai did that interview with YNB after 1x04! yvette said rick's is words of affirmation and michonne's is acts of services, and I definitely agree but I also think they display pretty much all of them, and quite a bit? rick is obviously into giving gifts and loves quality time (family fun day, begging her to spend just a few more days on the road in 7x12) and to say they both love physical touch is an understatement. this gorgeous gifset highlights it all beautifully.
anyway, some headcanons~
I really don't think they argue about much? they are very in sync most of the time. historically their big arguments are about how to handle major threats (negan, the crm, rick's PTSD) and since nothing bad is ever happening to them ever again because I said so there's no need to fight about those things anymore
michonne's favorite things about rick are how affectionate he is with his family, his strength, his accent, and his hair
rick's favorite thing about michonne is everything
i actually think they talk about books a lot. they're both nerdy as hell in different ways and love that about each other
michonne likes to cook and is very experimental while rick likes to bake (mostly secret family pie recipes) and they love feeding each other and their kids
michonne absentmindedly sings and does little dances when she's doing things around the house and rick stops whatever he's doing to lean against the wall and watch her and smile
that scene we saw in 9x01 where they cuddle up in bed and unpack their day was a ritual they started way back at the prison, even though back then it was obviously platonic (we do actually see them talking when everyone else is asleep several times throughout twd). they would linger and chat before heading to their respective cells at night. in the six years michonne spent without rick, she continued the tradition herself, talking to him out loud alone in their bedroom
rick DEFINITELY teases michonne about being oblivious to his feelings for her before The Couch
michonne hits back by teasing him about Whatever the Fuck He Was Doing With Jessie 💀
you didn't ask for grimes family headcanons but:
after they got home, michonne has a moment like that scene at the end of kill bill vol 2 and has a near silent hysterical laugh-cry of relief by herself in the bathroom before calmly walking back out to join her family. only rick notices
rick on the other hand is afraid to let any of them out of his sight. he spends the first six months he's back home being a total insomniac watching the three of them sleep because he's afraid if he closes his eyes he'll wake up alone back at the CRM
antony azor who plays rj is apparently very shy and reserved but opened up unexpectedly with andrew lincoln and so obviously this is also exactly what happened with rick and rj. father and son bonded INSTANTLY
his first night back, judith asks rick to finish reading the wizard of oz to her because he never got a chance to. it takes a good five minutes for him to compose himself but she does finally get the full story from her dad
rick and michonne do have an actual wedding ceremony, but it's just for them, judith and rj.
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frenziedslashers · 1 year
Text
I Love You, And I Don't Say It Enough:
Pt. 2; Baby, It's Okay
Pairing: Daryl Dixon (The Walking Dead) x Reader
Warnings: she/her pronouns used, possible ooc Daryl idk, PinV sex, unprotected sex (wrap that shit 👹), rough to soft sex, canon typical violence, mentions of character death. Not proofread.
About: This is set after Season 7 (meaning if you do not know who died Season 7 Episode 1, please do not read if you do not want spoilers.) This is a little fic about Daryl returning to Alexandria after escaping from Negan. I may have gotten some of the details wrong, but this was mostly for my own enjoyment. If you have a request you want to send in for him or another character, feel free. I will be making a master list for TWD and include the characters I write for here in the next few days!
REQUESTING INFO || TWD MASTERLIST
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The past few weeks had been some of the toughest of your life. Not only did you witness two of your good friends die, but you knew that more blood would be shed along the way after theirs. You just didn't think it would be Daryl. He wasn't dead, not from what you knew, at least. They just took him from you. A man who's helped you survive since the beginning. A man who you grew very fond of, and he grew just as fond of you in return. You thought Alexandria brought hope to the future the both of you could share. You were wrong. At least in this moment you were so very wrong.
You screamed for them not to take him from you. It only made them laugh. Negan made a comment about wanting to take you, too. Make you his wife and Daryl have to watch him treat you like his. "I'll be back for ya, don't cry," was the last thing Daryl had said to you. It didn't stop your tears, if anything it only made them worse. What if that was the last time he would ever speak with you? The last time you'd ever see his face. What if he ended up like Glenn and Abraham... Or worse?
It felt like months had passed without him, but in reality. It was only about three, maybe four days. Living without him was lonely. Sure as hell a lot colder at night than having his furnace of a body cooped up next to you. When you saw him get off the truck, you nearly collapsed. His eyes looked tired, but they still searched for you. They still widened and looked at you with the same love and adoration as before. Negan was quick to stop the interaction when Daryl blurted your name and the both of you attempted to run for one another.
"Well," his smile, god. You'd give nothing more than to shoot it off his face. "Isn't this just adorable? Don't you think, Lucille?" He chuckled, walking up to you with a curious gaze. "We've got little miss Jane over here, and her man of a Tarzan over there." He spoke with a sigh. "Gross." He snickered, looking back at Daryl while circling around you. Placing his hands on your hips. Watching you flinch and Daryl fight with the people holding him back. "Don't touch 'er!" "Hey now, what did I say? None of that, or else I'll shut," He held his bat up close to your face. "That shit down." He spoke, voice getting lower and more stern with each word. Daryl understood, even if he didn't want to. Looking at you with a gaze that told you everything was going to be all right.
Negan chuckled again, leaning in close to press his nose against the side of your hair. Inhaling deeply, and then sighing. "Damn! Does your woman smell nice. Bet she tastes just as good, if yunno what I mean." He told Daryl with a sly grin. "Don't talk about 'er-" "Do you wanna see her brains on the pavement? Because I sure as hell don't! I've seen too many super hot wives die. No use wasting such a pretty face when she could maybe be yours again." Daryl glared, Negan looking back at you with a sigh and pursed lips. "You should really tame your dog. He's gonna bite someone someday."
After that, you had a sliver of hope. That maybe since they were letting him go on runs with them. That maybe Daryl could figure something out and get away. Maybe you'd wake up one night to Daryl climbing into bed with you. Pulling you close to one another and not saying a word. Just holding each other in silence.
Each passing day grew harder and harder. Each day without him felt like shit. Like it was a reminder that you would be alone. You came into this apocalypse alone. Everyone you ever knew and loved, dead. Then you would die alone. Everyone that you ever knew and loved being just as dead.
But then, it happened.
Everyone else saw him before you had. Hugging and reuniting with their friend. Their family. He didn't linger with anyone too long, though. His main priority was you. It was always you, and would always be. He had to make sure that you were safe. That he knew you were safe. "She's in the house. Up in your room. I think she's reading." Tara told him, and he nodded. Giving a soft thanks before racing off in order to find you. To hold you and never let go.
He crept up the stairs. His body trembling along with his breath. Doing his best to not be too fast and startle you, but the closer he got. The more he couldn't help himself. Finally reaching the door to your guys' room. Reaching out to touch the handle but to his surprise. It turned for him. Watching with cautious and wide eyes as the door opened and he was met with you. His girl. His woman. His wife. Though the two of you weren't official, nor did either of you talk about marriage. He considered you to be his spouse. May as well be since his eyes were only ever on you since they first saw you.
"Daryl," You didn't have time to say anything else. Cut off by Daryl pulling you in for a desperate kiss. He was never good with words, anyways.
The hunter was quick to get his point across too. About how much he missed you. How he wasn't about to let you go anytime soon, either. It didn't take long for him to push you onto the bed once the door was shut, and to have your clothes on the floor along with his own.
"Daryl," you called his name out, over and over like a soft prayer. Hands roaming one another's bodies with desperation. Pulling each other as close as you both could. Hungry mouths worked at either kissing anywhere they could reach or muttering soft nothings to one another.
Daryl was fairly rough with everything at first too. Like he was trying to tell you both that this was real. That he was here and so were you. His hips were fast. Each thrust within you deep and desperate. trying to chase what you both wanted. It was rough and fast, until it wasn't.
A slight worry set within you when his thrusts slowed, finally coming to a hault. His face buried in the crook of your neck. You were about to ask if you did something wrong until you heard the rigid and quiet sob that came from your lover. Frowning while your arms reached out to hold him. One hand on the back of his head, while the other rested on his back. Rubbing with soft motions while shushing him. Peppering the side of his head with kisses.
"Dar', honey, look at me. I'm here, you're back. Please, don't cry," you lulled, your eyes watering at the sound of his cries in your ear. You hated to hear or even see him cry, but you were glad that he did every so often. He was so good at bottling everything up. It scared you a lot of the time.
"Dar', sweetheart, please, look at me. Let me see you," He listened this time. Pulling away from your neck to look down at you. His blue eyes bloodshot. He had a black eye and a busted lip, which only made you frown more. Fingers tracing his face with your eyes. "Oh baby, what'd they do to you." He grunted, turning his face to get you to stop. "I thought I lost you," he muttered, a tear rolling down both of your faces this time. Your own lip quivering at his words. Everything finally setting in with both of you. "I thought I lost you too, Dixon." He closed his eyes, resting his forehead against your own.
"Did they touch you?" You shook your head, hands still holding the sides of his face. "No, think ya scared them too much," Daryl chuckled lightly at that. Opening his eyes to look at you again. "Yeah, maybe."
It was silent again. The both of you holding onto one another while staring back at each other. "I love you," you couldn't help but smile at his words. Running your fingers through his hair. Watching his eyes flutter shut and reluctantly open once more. You could easily put him to sleep by just playing with his hair. "I know you do, you have a way of telling me with your actions, always have. I love you too, mountain man." He rolled his eyes at the nickname and you chuckled. "I don't tell ya it enough, I love you. Really do. That's all I thought 'bout, too. That I don't tell ya it enough." He muttered, and you sighed. Resting your hands on his shoulders, rubbing them slightly. "Daryl, I told you. You say it without saying it. I know you do." He sighed with a nod, smiling faintly as you leant up to kiss the side of his mouth. Wanting to continue what the both of you started moments prior, but he wasn't done with his tangent. You wouldn't stop him though, you'd let him open up anytime he wanted to.
"All I could think about in there was you. If I'd see ya again. Hear ya," he spoke. "I was scared he'd.." He paused, breathing a bit heavily for a second as he thought. "Scared he'd take ya from me." "Dar', I'd go out fighting before I let him do anything to me." He chuckled, reaching up to brush some hair from your forehead. "That's what I was worried 'bout. If I lost you," "but you didn't, and I'm here. You're here. We're safe." "For now." You didn't say anything more after that. Only wrapping an arm around the back of his neck while staring up at him.
"I love you," he muttered again, and you nodded, leaning up to brush your lips against his. "I love you too, Daryl." He closed the gap between the both of you rather quick. Humming lowly into the kiss while rolling his hips against yours. Still nestled inside you.
It wasn't long before he was rolling his hips. Rolls turning into thrusts. He didn't move fast and rough like before, though. He took his time. Letting you know how much he loved and cared about you with his actions, again. His hand coming between the both of you to run his fingers between your folds. Your soft noises you released into his mouth were enough for him to continue. Lips traveling down to your neck. Leaving soft kisses and then love marks and bites. All while his fingers rubbed over your clit. Smirking softly as your hips bucked and rolled in order to chase your high, but Daryl didn't let you. No, not at first. He was dragging this out as long as he could.
"Wanna cum with ya," he muttered, kissing your collar bone with a groan. "Then do it," a growl left his throat at your words. Hips finally picking up to the speed the both of you were wanting. His finger rubbing a bit rougher on your bud. Not too harsh, but just enough it had your back arching off the bed. Hands grasping at him to ground yourself. One hand Tangling in his hair while the other clawed at his back. His lips came crashing on yours. Muffling the noises the both of you made as your bodies met their high.
You were the first to go, Daryl following right after. He came inside of you, but you didn't care. Not right now, at least. That was a problem to deal with later. Right now it was all about you and him. Holding each other after your highs became lows and you were both back on earth.
He pulled out, slowly. Doing his best not to hurt you, or himself in the overstimulated discomfort you were both in. "Wow," he looked at you with a brow raised as he used a Kleenex to wipe you both up. "I don't think we've fucked that hard in a while," you chuckled, and he chuckled back. Tossing the napkin into the bin before crawling back over you. A hand cupping the side of your face with a hum. "Ya tellin' me I only fuck good when one's of us nearly dies?" He asked, pressing a kiss to your lips. You shook your head, rubbing at his chest. "No, 'course not, we've just been..." "Busy?" You nodded, kissing him again. "Yeah," he sighed.
He finally laid next to you after tugging his shirt back on. Letting you pull your own and your underwear back on as well. Daryl kept the shirt on so no one would see his scars beside you. You were mostly dressed so if anything happened no one would see you nude. A precaution to keep both your and Daryl's minds easy.
Daryl pulled your body close to his own. Strong arms wrapped safely around your waist. "How 'bout we blame it on Rick." he muttered, and your brows furrowed, an amused smile on your lips. "What? Our sad sex life before today?" He chuckled, pressing another kiss to your lips. "Yeah. He's always got us doin' stuff. No time for me to fuck ya." You snorted, rolling your eyes while swatting at his chest. "Shut up and go to sleep, Dixon." He smiled, pulling your closer while resting his chin atop your head. "Love you," you smiled, kissing his throat with a tired sigh. "I love you, too. I'm glad you're safe and home." "Me too, darlin'."
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writing-for-life · 8 months
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Nuance in (The Sandman) Fandom
Send me asks about everything Sandman-related!
I thought a lot over the past few days, partly prompted by discourse on here, partly due to a couple of “interesting” asks and messages I received (the type you don’t answer). I *think* they might have been prompted by engaging in discourse on topics like anti-blackness/racism, misogyny/sexism, TERF characters etc in The Sandman.
Fandoms are always getting super sensitive if someone shines a critical lens on their favourite works, authors and characters. So to make this clear (in case it isn’t already obvious from my brain-rot blog):
I love The Sandman. I love Neil Gaiman. I have an extremely soft spot for Dream (and Desire btw, who deserves a lot more character analysis than just being summed up as “villainous, sexy bitch”. One day, perhaps ;)).
I can read The Sandman and just get lost in the story, even after decades and many rereads. 
But I can also view it through a critical lens—these things aren’t mutually exclusive.
Not critical enough or too critical?
As fans, we can get trapped in certain thinking patterns, like:
“My blorbo can do no wrong”-syndrome 
“Characters with flaws are inherently problematic and imply authorial endorsement of those actions” 
“Characterisation and problematic subtext are one and the same” (aka overanalysing and looking for problems where there are none is the death of every story, but failing to see problematic patterns where they are clearly visible is a problem, too).
Don't say anything bad about my favourite character
I think this doesn’t need much further exploration. It’s not my personal way of looking at stories through permanently rose-tinted glasses (I always feel it stalls my experience, but my experience is not everyone else's). Some people prefer that type of escapism, and I’m good with that (although the downside is of course that by not willing to engage with issues, we can unwillingly perpetuate them). Live and let live, ship and let sail. But please, for the love of god: Don’t insult people via their inboxes or messages just because their opinions and preferences don’t align with yours. I’m not going to sugarcoat it or phrase it “nicely”: It’s infantile (and a form of bullying btw), end of.
How can you even like a character who's so horrible? And that author must be equally horrible, too
We have to separate flawed characters, even those who are written to be really problematic, from real-life endorsement of these actions. 
Author, narrator and character are three fundamentally different things, and don’t overlap as much as some people seem to think. 
We can write vile, despicable characters to make a point (for me, Thessaly was always a prime example for this, and I explained why here). We probably hate them as we write them. I don’t know what else to say, but this facet of writing seems to get more and more lost on people, and it’s a worry. Crying for sanitised characterisation is one step away from censorship. We explore what is problematic about people and humanity through story. That’s how we process and learn. It’s nothing new, but it becomes impossible if we can’t write flawed and even disgusting characters. 
Face value…
Since I’m mostly in The Sandman fandom, I often read that its ending is hopeless, and that’s supposedly the entire message. 
It is agonisingly sad, yes. But is it truly hopeless? I personally see it as quite the opposite, but of course that’s my opinion, coloured by my life experiences.
I also get that show-only fans often haven’t read the comics, or at least not the whole arc. And as such, their outlook from what they’ve seen so far (and choose to focus on) has to be different by default. I also understand that many people are quite new to the comics, even if they have read them in their entirety. I’ve sat with them for 30 years, and I still find new things on every reread (and I read it more times than anyone should 🙈), and I still don’t feel like I’ve understood it all. Perhaps because I still haven’t fully understood myself (and it’s unlikely I ever will). If there’s one thing The Sandman isn’t, it’s one-dimensional and easy to grasp in its whole depth.
I just wrote a ginormous meta on it, if you’re interested, it’s here:
Subtext, (not so) glorious subtext
This is where it gets complicated:
We shouldn’t mix up characterisation and story subtext. Overanalysing every line to death will always make us find something that’s “problematic”, when it really isn’t in the wider context of the story.
Zooming in is NOT always a good thing. Sometimes, we actually need to zoom out. 
But subtext *can be* (accidentally) problematic. Even in stories we love. And none of this negates what I previously wrote.
Stories have real-life implications of sorts, and we need to be able to talk about it. That’s where those slightly flabbergasting, hostile inbox messages come in, and I want to expand on that "topic of contention" a bit:
Neil himself confirmed that the Endless basically warp reality, and that this is why, after Dream’s failed relationship with Nada, many black women in his vicinity suffer terrible fates (Ruby and Carla in particular). And that this spell is only broken when he dies, and that it is the reason why Gwen doesn’t suffer the same fate. And said Gwen then gets used as a plot device to basically absolve Hob (who canonically really is a problematic character, whether show-only fans like it or not) from his slaver past. Once again, very clearly: No one is making this up. Neil confirmed it (for the comics, and that was over 20 years ago. It remains to be seen if his stance has changed as we move into that arc in the TV show).
I don't think it is correct to imply that Dream as a character is racist (I've read that, too) because he logically can’t be. He holds *all* the collective unconscious. He is also, strictly speaking, not white. He is everything and nothing, and he shows up in many different ethnicities throughout the whole arc, depending on who looks at him. But Neil played with a subtext here (reality warping due to a bad relationship which then affects everyone with similar physical traits) that will read very differently to a black person than it reads to a white person, and we have to understand why that is an *extremely* slippery slope.
Plus, we are supposed to see Hob, who *was* a racist at some point (you can’t not be if you’re a slave-trader—it’s impossible by default) as redeemed. And yes, he *does* regret deeply, good for him (and if I were saying this aloud, you would hear the sarcasm in my voice, because it is indeed all about him. We are to sympathise/empathise with him and his character growth while there isn’t much mention of the people he maltreated). But also: it was a black woman who basically forgave him (with dialogue that personally makes me cringe). And that black woman who offers forgiveness is not truly a black woman—she is a character written by a white man. And as much as author and character are not the same (see above), there is an inherent sensitivity in that power imbalance that we can't brush under the carpet.
I don’t think Neil is racist. Probably quite the opposite, and I can even see that his intentions were good from a storytelling point of view. BUT intention and impact are two fundamentally different things, and telling the story this way (comic version) betrays blindspots only white people have. Just like women have blindspots when they tell stories about men, and men have blindspots when they tell stories about women (and there are a few of those in The Sandman, too). And and and…
As storytellers, we can’t always speak from lived experience. It’s impossible. And that also means we occasionally make mistakes that look bad in hindsight, even if our intentions were good.
I guess the proof is in the pudding: What do we do when people who *have* that lived experience tell us it looks bad? If they inform us why it is hurtful, plays into old stereotypes etc?
Are we willing to listen and yield (both are the foundations of allyship btw), or are we insisting that our viewpoint as someone *without* lived experience is right? That lived experience extends to all lived experiences (sex/gender, sexual orientation, age...), and from all we’ve heard from Neil so far, it seems important to him to rewrite what he sees differently today. Whether they’ll always get it right for the show—we’ll see. At the moment, it looks a lot better than in the comics, and certain issues are already being handled with a lot more sensitivity, but a few problems remain.
Pushing back on criticism that comes from people with lived experience is problematic—I’d encourage us to think about what it looks like if a white majority in the fandom is basically saying that the opinions of POC are essentially “overreactions” (and yes, that happened).
It’s complicated. The Sandman was written in a different time, and I think we have to distinguish between things that weren’t really problematic at the time but have aged poorly (again, Thessaly springs to mind, and I have lived experience as a queer person during that time, so I can see it in context while at the same time acknowledging that I would make changes to bring it to the present day), and things that were always a problem due to blindspots. They were a problem in 1990, and if they don’t get changed, they are still a problem today.
This fandom is generally so much more open and nicer than others I know. But that doesn’t mean it’s infallible, because it’s full of humans. 
Nuance is sorely needed, in both story interpretation and interaction between said humans.
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captain-mj · 1 year
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Imagine if Graves started to call Price absolutely ridiculous pet names(Pookie bear, Snuggles, Doodlebug, etc.) To get on his nerves, but Price secretly starts to like it. Then Graves just randomly stops and Price corners him asking him why he stopped.
Time to push my Cajun Graves onto everyone.
“Can you pass me that, dumpling?”
Price almost died. Right then and there. In front of everyone.
The entire 141 finally made quiet.
“I’m sorry?”
“I said can you pass me that?” Graves looked mildly annoyed. Farah and Ghost were exchanging looks to make sure they both heard it.
Price chalked it up to mishearing until the item, a mug, was in Graves’s hand.
“Thank you, dumpling.”
The reaction was immediate. Soap coughed so hard his face turned red. Gaz stared at them. Ghost had his face on the table but it wasn’t clear if he was laughing or crying.
Graves poured the coffee into the mug and made the escape before anyone could manage to get words.
Price just stared at where Graves was.
Dumpling??
-
For a while, it seemed to have stopped. No big deal. Probably just Graves in a silly mood.
Price was talking about how Brandy was made after Graves asked. He had a feeling he was just humoring his interests, but Price knew Graves didn't like talking that much, so they both got something out of it.
"Stud muffin, I really don't get how you remember all this stuff." Graves's accent thickened when he said that.
Price paused, just staring at him for a minute. Like before, it mostly caught him off guard, not made him upset.
"What did you call me?"
"Stud muffin. American phrase." Graves smiled at him. "So about the distilling."
"What does it mean?"
"It's just a nickname, John. What else were you going to say?"
Price couldn't remember, feeling more flustered than usual. He ended up picking a random spot and guessing by the way Graves smirked, it was the wrong one.
While Graves was away, he looked it up.
stud·muf·fin
/ˈstədˌməf(ə)n/
a man perceived as sexually attractive, typically one with well-developed muscles.
Price felt his face heat up even more. He had learned from Alex that dumpling was just a term of endearment, but stud muffin seemed substantially more flirty.
And in public!
While they were getting in the car, Graves leaned into him. "Thanks for the night out, Doodlebug."
Price's internal monologue was just screaming. "Any... Any um..." He took a deep breath. "Anytime."
Graves laughed a little.
-
The next one. The next one Price already knew.
"Ain't you a Casanova." Every time. Every time Graves used one of these godforsaken nicknames, his accent dripped in his voice like honey and Price wanted to drown in it. Normally, Graves kept it carefully tamped down, trying to sound professional and neutral. Price would be a liar if he ever said he didn't absolutely love his voice.
Price found himself just staring again.
Graves stared back at him for a minute, still smiling but there was a bit of tension to his shoulders.
"Yes." Price said slowly and Graves laughed hard.
"I love you so much, beau." This nickname, Price was more than familiar with. It meant handsome in French and Graves used it pretty often.
"I love you too, honey?" Price said the nickname like a question and Graves's lips pursed slightly.
-
The next time, they were in bed. More precisely, Price was in Graves. It was slow, lazy sex, more kissing than thrusting between them.
"Oh, Lover boy, don't know how I managed without you." Graves mumbled above him, moving to straddle him.
Once again, sirens in Price's brain. He felt so flustered suddenly and at a loss for words. Graves didn't seem to notice, continuing to move.
Once they were done, Price hugged him to his chest.
Lover boy might be his favorite yet. Though, that may just be because of how Graves says it. Or what Graves said it with. Or anything.
Price held Graves tight so he wouldn't look up and see how red he was.
-
He stopped. Two weeks and no one new nicknames. No reappearance of any of the old ones either. Price was back to strictly being sweetheart and if it was special occasion, beau.
"I can't fucking live like this." He groaned into his pillows. Just the thought of Graves's voice, calling him those nicknames, made him melt. They were all so damn cute and Graves was so fucking cute and...
Price stood up and went to find him. He ended up cornering him in the hallway, watching him press against the wall.
"Everything alright, John?"
"You stopped using the nicknames. The cute southern ones."
Graves looked surprised before blushing. "Ah. Yes. I..."
"Why?"
"Well... I only really did them to tease you... But you didn't seem to like them so I stopped."
Price stared at him.
"You're doing it again! When you just look at me and you don't talk. I thought you didn't like them so I stopped!"
"I like them. A lot."
"Oh." Graves stared up at him. "Which one was your favorite?"
"Lover boy." No hesitation. "I thought it was cute..."
Graves laughed softly. "You were so dramatic. I thought you were going to rip my head off, pumpkin."
"I also like when you use your accent. It sounds pretty." Price pressed against him, trapping him. "Use it more."
"That an order lover boy?"
"It is, stud muffin."
Graves clearly shut down, having almost the same reaction Price did. Hearing that phrase in his british accent made his thoughts go fuzzy.
Price left before his brain started working again.
"God I love that man."
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atalienart · 4 months
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People are scary stupid. (I'm gonna mention SA so don't read if it might upset you. It's about stories and stuff.)
So I browse insta, like one does and I get adds for books. I check Polish authors and sometimes they are on wattpad. Many of those writers have their wattpad stories published traditionally, mainly romances and erotica. I'm a curious cat, I want to see what kind of stories are published. It's mostly mafia romances and millionaire/girl stories. I find these stories extremely repetitive and boring, they also have characters that I very much don't enjoy but whatever. I read a few chapters of a story by such a wattpad author who has some of their other stuff already published. And wow. You know, I don't care what people write about, if I can't stomach it I just won't read it, that's fine. But wtf is wrong with a person who clearly writes rape and then in the comments (responding to someone saying "hey, you described rape") says that they don't see it as rape, didn't write the scene as rape, that it's a matter of how you look at it, that it's "dubious" because the character eventually "likes it" (literally the character is running away from the "love interest", is begging him to stop, pushes him away, but she's held down and then well... she just gives up because he's stronger; afterwards she's crying; she doesn't even like him, he just practically bought her). And the author tries to convince everyone readers will like the guy eventually because he will change and he has a tragic backstory™ (the girl left him or something -_-). Btw, it wasn't the first time he forced himself on a girl, oh no, he just now feels bad because this new girl is somehow ⋆。°✩speshul⋆。°✩. Idk what sits in those people's brains. It's like saying, no no, she didn't kill the guy, she just shot him and he tripped and fell of the window. She's heard him screaming all the way down, he'd been alive until the pavement hit him, therefore she's not a killer. This is absolutely ridiculous. And I know dark romances, the guy love interest is usually the most deranged, disgusting, evil macho man to exist. He uses and abuses the girl in every possible way. And some people enjoy reading those things I guess. But saying that what you wrote is not what you wrote because you enjoy it is just wrong. Or if your intention, as a writer, was something else, think if you actually managed to get your idea across. Sometimes what you try to communicate doesn't read like that (I know, I've been there) and you need to change things. But if you really think your character isn't a rapist because he's handsome and broken™, and the girl love interest will eventually fall for him, then yikes. Hope no one hurt you irl and that you don't hurt anyone either with this way of thinking.
Sorry, I just had to rant.
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bonny-kookoo · 9 months
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Yoongi
𝓣𝓪𝓴𝓮 𝓒𝓪𝓻𝓮. | Homesick
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He's not sure what's worse- the fact that he now knows what's wrong, or the fact that he now knows he can't do anything to help you.
Tags/Warnings: Spin off, Doctor!Yoongi, Cat Hybrid!Reader, mentions of hospitals, Mentions of a coma, major angst, slight fluff?, a lot of hurt, it's your daily dose of angst you masochists
Length: Drabble
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There's not much Yoongi truly regrets. After all, he's a firm believer that even the bad things in life happen for a reason- it's all somewhat connected. It all leads you to the next step in life.
But if that's the case, then why did the world gift him you, just to have you taken away like this?
He knows it's only a matter of time until your body gives up. It's already happening, after all- your breathing has become less regulated, blood pressure steadily declining. He knows it's unrealistic to think that you'll forever stay in this state. You won't.
Even if you wake up now, you won't be the same. You'll probably have to fight the aftereffects and impact on your brain for months if not years. And that's a very optimistic prognosis.
The more realistic one would be to assume that you'll be a case of permanent full on care. If you ever wake up.
He dreads the question soon to be asked. What does he want to do?
Can he let you go?
In times like these, when being at home makes him homesick to the point of nausea, he tends to visit you, no matter how late. It's how he finds himself at your bedside again, steady tune of your bpm monitor reassuring him that for now, you're still here.
No matter how much of you.
Watching you sleep like this makes it hard to really comprehend that there's not much to do here at all. There's nothing he can do to help you recover because, at the end of the day, the diagnosis is still being studied.
He can't help. He can only hope.
Holding your hand has begun to feel odd now. Like a tune not played quite right, it feels off to just cling to your body like this, when your soul might've very well already left you long ago. "I don't know what I'm supposed to do.." he mumbles to himself, mostly.
Or maybe he's just at the end of his hope.
Maybe he's the one losing this battle now.
"I know I have to let you go, but I don't want to." He shakes his head. "I didn't even get to experience anything with you." He sighs to himself. "Fuck.." the doctor wipes his face with his free hand.
He sighs again, and gets up to leave-
But your fingers cling to his own, holding a lot more tightly than usual. Maybe a simple muscle memory response- nothing to be excited about. He's learned to keep those feelings in check by now, after having been disappointed time and time again.
So he gently pulls your fingers away from his hand.
And you.. whine?
Your bpm is rising a little, machine complaining with a chime about the change in tempo, and he looks at you a bit more focused, noticing the way your breathing doesn't seem as calm as it usually is.
"No, you're not-!" He curses, turning the lights of the room back on. "You're not fucking taking her from me yet-!" He argues to no one.
When your fingers wrap around his wrist where his hand is pushing down on the hospital bed to gain better leverage to look at your monitor.
"No way.." he breathes out, leaning closer to you as he watches the tears run down your cheeks. It's not new that you're able to cry- you've randomly done that in the past, but during post comatose wakefulness, that's not unusual.
But he hopes. He wants to hope.
"Do you want me to stay?" He asks. "Is that it? Come on, you know how it works, give me an answer-" he begs in a whispered tone,
But nothing happens.
"God dammit what am I supposed to do?!" He breaks down, falling back into the chair next to your bed, finally breaking as he cries into the sheets.
And your hand is suddenly moving around again, as if searching for something, before it settles in his hair, on his head.
And as he lifts it to look at you, your eyes are open. But not just open- because that's what they've done for weeks now, time and time again, hurting him with every empty gaze.
Because this time, albeit a bit tearful-
They're not just open.
They're looking at him.
You're looking at him.
You're back.
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