#just don't know how much I can take my heart being ripped to shreds in the meantime 😅

[lizzieisright]

Moon peppers (4)

(1) (2) (3)

Palestine: what can you do

were!Abby x witch!reader

Summary: Abby runs away from her (former) pack and into your forest. You're not happy with your new (woods?)mate.

Tags: fantasy au, sloppy worldbuilding (fuck it we ball), fem!reader, alpha!abby, witch!reader (so not an omega), sentient forest, stubborn idiots in love who annoy each other.

Notes: how do I keep hating the witch after she saved my life asking for a friend

Taglist: @abbysbae @poxismind @sidefanficaccounttohidemyshame @pjmispunk @herdelreydear @lmaoo-spiderman @littletinyladybugs (if you want me to tag/untag you for the whole series dm me please)

-/-/-/-/-/-/-

Your morning is.. odd. You expected yourself to forget how to control so much magic, but instead it feels better than the last ten years you spent being weak. You really couldn't live like this: it made you feel vulnerable and helpless, and now that your power is back, you feel like yourself again.

In a way it terrifies you. Because you were a completely different person ten years ago, and now you don't want your old habits back. You don't like seeing your tattoos and runes, especially the ones on your forearms, but you try your best to make peace with it. Your tattoos have almost nothing to do with your power - they're just channels for your magic, a spellbook engraved in your skin. They were faint before yesterday, fading away as your powers grew weaker, but they were still there, and they will not disappear until you die. You have to accept it, and maybe, if you don't make stupid decisions this time, you'll change your heart about them. 

You meditate before breakfast to manage your flow of magic exactly like Caitlyn showed you, even though you expect the wolf to wake up at any moment and trash your still room. But the wolf is asleep - you can feel it through the bond, which is annoying: you don't like having your space disturbed like this. You're sure the wolf won't like it too. You concentrate on the bond between you to see how well the healing is happening and it makes you groan - fat chance it will be finished by the evening, with this pace it will take a whole damn week. The thought of spending more than a day with the wolf makes you depressed.

Abby wakes up. This fact alone shakes her to her core: she is not dead. She is supposed to be dead, what the fuck? More than that, she feels almost okay - she is not supposed to feel mostly okay, she fucking died! She knows this, because no way in hell she hallucinated having her throat ripped out. 

Then Abby opens her eyes, tries to move - and goes into survival mode. She is in a still room and she is restrained. All her paws are chained and she can't move. This is worse than death. Oh god, this is so much worse. 

Abby tugs on her chains with all her power, but they down even bulge. Abby growls and coils and tries again, but she only hits the wall with her back. Abby starts to panic: she can't stay here - the fucking witch bound her! She is in debt to the witch! She needs to leave before you come and order her to do something horrible. 

Abby tries again, but this time the door to the still room opens and Abby sees the creepy glowing eyes of yours. Abby starts to move around even more violently - she doesn't want you anywhere near her. You're one of the rare monsters of this world and she needs to either get away from you or to kill you, but she is not staying here. The moment she is free she will rip you to shreds. 

At least you look scared when you enter the room and you keep the biggest distance possible from her. Abby growls and snarls, clasping her jaws around the air, eager to kill you. 

“It's not what it looks like.” You blurt, your arm in the air as if you want to tell her you came in peace. 

Abby growls louder. 

“Listen, I'll free you if you calm the fuck down and turn into human form so we can talk.”

Abby is so angry she doesn't even consider the possibility of calming down or pretending to calm down. 

“Or I can force you to turn into a human.” You say in a shaky voice, as if you're yourself scared of this possibility. 

This actually makes Abby stop. She doesn't want you near her, so she needs to pick the least of two evils. Abby growls and starts to change, her fur disappears and her bones rearrange. The chains tighten around her human wrists and now she is sitting on your floor, glaring at you, her shirt ripped on her sides and her pants dirty.  

“Thank you. I will explain everything and then I'll free you, okay?” Abby just growls at you again. 

You swallow hard: the wolf is even scarier as a human. The woman is big and strong and her claws are out still, her arms are bulging with muscles, and the way she looks at you doesn't help you calm your nerves. Her shirt is red from blood and it only makes her look scarier. You clear your throat and start speaking.

“Yesterday I found you dead, and the woods wanted me to save you. So I did. Right now you're still in the process of healing and if you go too far away from me, the energy will stop coming and you will die. This is why I brought you here. I also knew you would want to kill me or you'd run away, so I chained you. Now, please make peace with the fact that you're stuck with me for a while and then I will release you. Good? Good.”

Abby growls, humbled. She doesn't want to make peace with it, but you do sound logical. And you're still scared of her, which is a good sign: maybe you won't have the guts to hurt her. 

“Am I blood bound to you?” Abby growls and you look offended and angry, which confuses Abby. And also amuses. 

“Fuck you.” You spit. “Not all witches are like this, you ungrateful beast. The only bound you have is the energy one that heals you. After that you're free to leave and please don't ever see me again. Jerk.”

You flick your fingers for the chains to disappear and stomp out of the still room. You knew this werewolf was an asshole, but holy fuck! 

The wolf stomps after you.

“It would not have happened if you didn't take all the moon peppers!” The woman argues and follows you to the kitchen. You turn around and stare at this ungrateful, entitled shit of a wolf. 

“First of all, as if a bunch of moon peppers would have saved you from getting your throat ripped out!” You snap back and get into her face, angry and stubborn. “Second of all, maybe if you didn't fucking attack me and talked to me instead I would have shared some of them!” You flip your arms around in frustration.

“Because witches are famous for being helpful and kind.” The wolf snarls at you and you can't believe the audacity of her. 

But she is also right. She did have all the reasons to attack you and not trust you. You calm down a bit and take a step back. 

“It's still idiotic to attack a witch. I might've not been so nice.”

“You were shitting your pants in fear.” The wolf deadpans.

“As if I wouldn’t find a way to get my revenge without a direct attack. You're exceptionally stupid.” You huff and the wolf growls. “You took my friend's den, covered it in blood and attacked me. Do you comprehend what I could have done if I wanted to? You know why witches use blood binding? Because it  makes us stronger.” You hiss sadistically into the blonde's face.

For a second there's fear in the wolf's eyes, and some part of you feel satisfied. The other part, though, feels disgusted with you. You take a breath. 

“I'm sorry. You just really pissed me off being so stubborn about your own safety.” You sigh and rub your face. 

The silence falls and you go to the kitchen to cook some breakfast for yourself and for this stupid wolf: after all, you will be stuck together and if someone will be nasty and poison the shared time, it won't be you. 

Abby blinks. She feels lost. She expected you to be some kind of creep or a sadist, even if you were afraid of her; and she knew you could've bound her - that's exactly what she thought happened. But she didn't expect you to actually be nice. Well, relatively nice: you chained her for her own good, then threatened her and now you just apologised to her, and Abby feels like a fool if she continues being mean to you. She really doesn't have any ground to mistreat you except some rumours and her awful, but limited experience. She only met one witch before. 

Well. She can play nice too. 

“I'm Abby.” Abby says grumpily, still not ready to believe you: you just threatened to bind her, for god's sake!

You hum and tell her your name as well while you cut vegetables with aggressive vigour. Abby assumes you're imagining cutting her into pieces. 

It's awkward. It is really, really awkward. You're obviously still frustrated and Abby doesn't burn with desire to talk to you either. Plus she is in your home and she definitely doesn't know where to put herself. She settles for a stool near you. Abby stares at your back and your arms silently, and then she is hit with the realisation. 

“You didn't have tattoos before.” 

You smirk sadly. 

“Yeah, well. Before that I didn't have to revive a whole werewolf.”

“Why did you do it?”

“Ask the forest. They made a deal with me.”

How calculating, Abby thinks. Also: how the fuck do you deal with a forest?

“So you still do deals.” 

“It's different.” You say sharply. “I don't blood bind.”

“I get it.” Abby huffs and backs off: a witch who doesn't like blood binding, might be a goddamn oxymoron. “So for how long am I stuck with you?”

“Three days, probably. Maybe more, depending how fast you'll heal.”

“I heal fast.”

“Don't compare your usual healing with coming back from the dead. Who knows how much of your brain died. That's why you can't be far away from me. You go away, you break the bond, your brain dies. Got it?”

Abby hums. She has never heard of anyone being able to revive someone. She thinks you know some old forbidden magic if you can bring people back, and it just doesn't match with what she sees: a scaredy cat who lives in the woods and has to spend hours fishing to get three fish. Your home is cosy and warm, with a lot of natural light and Abby doesn't understand how you could have saved her life: you’re soft and weak and live in a house suited for some kind old lady, not a witch who could bring people from the dead. How much fucking power a witch would need to even do that?

“How far is too far?” 

“If I stay here and you go beyond my shields, you're dead.”

Abby sighs, annoyed. She doesn't want to stay next to you for three days. She is somewhat grateful for being alive, but it's weird. It's very weird to be in one space with you. 

You place two plates and sit opposite of Abby. Abby looks at her plate and wants to hesitate, to think, but she is so fucking hungry she starts eating right away. 

It's not…bad. Edible. (God she will have to eat like this for three more days?)

You watch the wolf- Abby's face and can't help your smile. Unfortunately you're very familiar with the fact you can't cook - Cait and Vi tried it once and since then you don't host dinners anymore; sometimes Cait sends you back with food - but you didn't expect the wolf to be so sensitive to your food. You eat it just fine after all. 

“It's bad.” You laugh. 

“It is.” Abby agrees. “Did you do it on purpose?”

“What? No. My taste senses are just fucked up by a lot of potions.”

You see how Abby tenses and you sigh: it's strange to have your everyday life being seen as some kind of horror story. There's a lot of rumours about witches that are mostly true, but you don't think of Abby as a mindless, uncivilised beast even though she is a were, so there should be room to believe that some witches are not that bad. 

(You think of your past and feel ashamed: it's not like you were “not that bad” all your life). 

“Don't tell me you've never drunk a potion.” You try to appeal to Abby's own experience, but you know she might have a bad one. “From coughing? Pain killers? Never?”

“Are you saying witches brew them?” Abby smirks like you're ridiculous. 

“Well, yes. We sell them for money, that's how everyone gets them.” 

Abby is silent as she chews your food that you think is quite edible, actually - but she drinks her flower milk with every spoon and you take a wild guess she can't stomach it. 

“Okay, listen. Are you a good cook?”

“Yes, actually. Everyone with enhanced senses makes a good cook.” Abby says with pride and you see her blue eyes sparkle. She also has freckles. Which is kinda cute. 

“Then you can cook whatever you want and not suffer.” You offer. 

Abby frowns at you like she expects some kind of trickery. You sigh again and raise your hands in defeat. You tried. 

“Do you have any meat?”

“...No.”

“And I can't hunt.” Abby explains to you like you're stupid. You roll your eyes. 

“There's fish in the freezer. It should be fine.” 

That's how Abby spends her afternoon: cooking fish. She has to ask you for other ingredients and you send her to your still room, which makes her shiver. It's creepy - just like you are with your eyes and tattoos and potion drinking or whatever - and Abby thinks of people trapped in these still rooms and being experimented on. She is happy she doesn't see any kind of animal parts on your shelves. You're out of the house for the most part: when Abby looks out of the window, she sees you sitting on the ground, absolutely still. Weirdo. 

“At least this weirdo is harmless compared to her kin.” Abby says to herself while she cuts the fish.  

You also saved her life and didn't ask for anything in return - not counting leaving you alone after - and Abby really struggles to keep thinking of you as a monster. You don't seem half-bad. And she should make friends here, now that she doesn't have a pack. The thought of being friends with a witch actually makes Abby laugh out loud.

After lunch, which is spent mostly in silence except for your praise on Abby's cooking, you tell her you'll be in the still room and that she can find something to be busy with. You point at books and yarn. Abby rolls her eyes. 

She has absolutely nothing to do. Her instincts are going crazy as well: your home looks like it needs an alpha. You're not an omega, and you don't need Abby's help, but she feels like she'll go insane if she doesn't fix something. She fights her urges, but after an hour she gives up and sharpens your knives. It makes her feel easier and she can read in peace now. 

You come back in a few hours and sit on the opposite end of your sofa, exhausted. Abby doesn't look at you. 

“Tomorrow I'm supposed to go to the village for my check ups. You'll have to come with me.”

Abby frowns. She doesn't want to show her face in the village - what if some of her former packmates are still around and will notice her? 

“Can your deals wait?” You sigh loudly, annoyed: can this wolf be nice for one fucking minute or is Abby trying to establish some kind of hierarchy in your house?

“I am a healer.” You deadpan, tired of dealing with Abby’s shit. “People need me.” 

“It's not safe for me to show up like this.” Abby scrunches her nose.

“I guess it’s connected to the fact that you were dead yesterday.” You say and Abby can only nod. “I can hide you, if you want. There's a spell that will not let people recognise you if they mean harm.”

Abby coils back. She doesn't want any fucking spells to be put on her! But in a second she clears her head and thinks about it: she clearly doesn’t have a choice if she wants to survive. And you offer her help, so maybe it’s not too bad. 

“How can I know you're not fucking with me?” You blink and Abby tries not to look you in the eyes: you look like an owl. And not in a cute way. 

“Can't you smell if I lie? I know weres can smell emotions. Also, the bond we have can make you feel awful if I try to harm you.”

Abby hums, thinking it over.

“Okay. But if you try any funny business, you're dead.”

“You'll be dead too, idiot.” You roll your eyes at Abby and she rolls hers in return. 

The wolf is kinda annoying. You can understand her distrust, but her threats are getting ridiculous. 

The last step of this strange and mostly unpleasant day is getting ready for bed. You look at your small sofa and try to think how Abby will fit, but the other option is the floor, which you assume she won't appreciate. You give her the choice anyway, Abby looks between the sofa and the floor like it's a hard choice, like she thinks the floor is a valid option. Then she agrees to sleep on the sofa. (I'll turn back if I'm uncomfortable, she tells you.) You bring her a pillow and a few blankets: the nights are getting cold and you usually use your magic to keep the hut warm, but you can slip up when you sleep, and wake up to a freezing house. 

“Why don't you use wood like normal people?” 

“It's too much work. I can find a tree that fell, but you need to chop it, bring it here, chop more, store the logs. Nah. Magic is easier.” 

Abby huffs. 

“So you rely on your magic all the time.”

“And you rely on your senses and strength.” You deadpan. 

Abby doesn't say anything in return, having no valid arguments. You sigh and make a circle with your hand, turning all lights off, and then you show Abby where the candle is in case she needs some light for her reading. Abby nods and you wish each other good night. 

You both can’t fall asleep for a long time, too bothered by each other: you don’t like having Abby in your home after she has been so nasty to you for the reason of “the witch”, and Abby doesn’t like being in your home for the reason of, well, “the witch”. She is alive, and she should be happy, but your presence is a constant threat and she can’t let herself fall asleep. You can’t fall asleep because you feel Abby, her life energy like a giant bright light in your living room and it’s hard to ignore it. You try to meditate but it seems to make you even more energised. 

You fall asleep when it’s so dark you can’t see anything beyond your windows. Abby falls asleep five minutes later.

#abby anderson x reader #abby anderson x you #abby anderson #alpha!abby #moon peppers

[dramarants]

going through the 20th century girl tag to move on and appreciate all the great moments only to find out ppl would rather yijin died than not end up with heedo

#20th century girl #twenty five twenty one #20th century girl spoilers #spoilers #maybe I'm in a weird mood but I can't scroll any more asldkfj #I get why ppl say the movie did it better: pacing + showing aftermath + believable #even though the sadder ending was a surprise they set us up for it and have proper closure to the characters #and while I still have some gripes (what happened to the brother how did woonho diedoes the squad not stay in touch where are they all now) #overall it was solid #but idk if 25 21 pulled a 'he died' I'd be so pissed - it's lazy and thoughtless and not marrying your first love is realistic #their final scenes together were soooo good it's just the reason for parting was unbelievable & present day scenes left us with more qs #but to be like 'yijin and heedo were soulmates and their breakup is unthinkable so... #'instead of growing and moving ahead after all his struggles to establish himself and support his family he should just DIE' #like this 20th c girl ending is so much more heartbreaking imo sldkfjasdlldgfkj #watching him smile at sunrise all hopeful for a future with you he'll never have 22 years later is SO MUCH WORSE #idk I'm glad bora is shown smiling and cherishing what they had rather than mourning (tho she has every right too) but it still doesn't... #...feel like closure to me. but there really is no good parting when it comes to death huh #show me people can treasure their youth and still find happiness and fulfillment in unexpected ways down the line!! #there's a beautiful piece of 90s nostalgia media still waiting in the wings for us I just know it #just don't know how much I can take my heart being ripped to shreds in the meantime 😅 #ranting

[gurugirl]

A Good Boy | 5. When In Greece

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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#harry styles #firstpost #harry styles smut #harry styles one shot #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfic #harry smut #harry styles fanfiction #stepmom!reader #stepson!harry x stepmom!reader #virgin!harry #harry styles x yn #harry x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry x yn #harry x y/n #harry styles writing #harry styles fan fiction #harry styles fic #harry #a good boy #harry x stepmom!reader #harry fic

[grossditz]

leehan ૮꒰◞ ⸝⸝ ◟꒱ა 🐾 ♡

cw — graphic mention of r*pe，dubcon，manipulation，lovebombing，naïve reader，toxic!leehan，face fucking，power imbalance，ignoring safe words，reader implied to be held hostage，rough touching，belly bulge，choking，mentions of black outs，mentions of bruises but no physical abuse implied!，breeding

leehan just likes having power. theres no other way to work around this. he takes pride in owning something because its easier to control when theres a name attached to it. so its no surprise his relationships follow that same pattern.

you only know leehan because you studied in the same library after school and he approached you one day asking if you could help him out with a class he's been struggling with. you were never the one to go against helping if someone really needed it so you agreed, not catching the glimpse of something evil in his eyes. he tells you to meet him at his apartment because he could focus more in his own spaces. you really don't think much of it. leehan is attractive and young, and you heard around he works at a flower shop on the weekends! there was nothing to fear. well until he started getting too handsy during your meetings. fingers slipping under your shirt and groping you so hard the sting lingered even when he moved to grope another part of your body. you brush it off the first couple of times and asked him to focus but he kept going, getting bolder each time until he was kissing and forcing your arms on the ground.

you try so hard to fight him off. eyes watering while you force his chest back but he just gets stronger and stronger, forcing his body onto yours, biting your lip to get your mouth open just so he could slip in his tongue, your arms flailing while you kick and shove to get him to stop. you never thought leehan would be capable of doing something like this but here he is ripping your clothes off and holding you down when he bullies his fat cock into you. all you can do is scream and cry but your voice is so meak and little nothing comes out.

leehan leaves you there on his cold bedroom floor when hes done with you. dried up blood running down your thighs, eyes blown wide and dried up with all your tears. you stay there for a long time in shock before you get up and collect the shredded pieces of your clothes.

he doesn't leave you alone after that. ever since hes had you, he doesn't intend to let you go. approaches you at school and is spilling apologies saying hes so stupid and that he didn't mean to do that to you, he just loves you so much he couldn't help it. pressing your palm to his heart and going, "my heart beats so fast for you. don't you see i love you?" he manipulates you into believing you wanted it too. saying how you couldn't stop crying for his dick and how you were begging for him, purposely leaving out the parts where you told him no, leaving out all the parts where you scratched at his arms so hard blood could run. but he loves you. you do these things with people you love. people in love have sex all the time! it isn't hard for him to convince you at all what he did was entirely pure love. hes got you right where he wants you.

leehan is a fast mover! after only two weeks of being together he gets you to move in with him! you agree to move in with him after he's told you he couldn't live without you and that he's a danger to himself every second he doesnt spend with you. you never thought taking the next step meant he would prevent you from doing anything that involves interaction with the outside world. he takes all your electronics with the excuse of no one caring about you like he does, and locks you inside his apartment. its almost like being held hostage but you agreed and leehan's threats, you can tell are wholehearted.

your sex life with leehan is... something! you never really consent to it but instead let him do what he wants. just can't help it </333

hes so mean to you. always saying how much he loves you during the day and calling you a worthless hole for him to use to get his dick wet at night <3 slapping you around and impaling you on his big fat cock (that i know he has from experience trust me) !! he just is so ruthless. thinking about face fucking with him bcs theyre never much fun :( keeps your head pressed against his stomach n its so gross and makes you gag so much your eyes start getting foggy and everything's blank !!!!!! and he makes you deepthroat his balls too 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫 just using you to dump all his cum into! gosh he just really uses you to the point you break. will not stop fucking into your warm cunt when he sees your eyes flutter close, or if you keep repeating your safe word he just pushes in deeper and hes just so big you can see the imprint of his cock in your tummy and it's filling you with so much cum... even presses his hand down over it and it makes you feel so dizzy and icky bcs you can hear all the squelching... i keep saying it but hes just really mean :(

and you can't do anything but let leehan have you because well he loves you? and you love him too right? doesn't matter how you always have deep purple marks littering your body and how they hurt so much since leehan never nurses them back to health

but that doesn't matter !!! you take risks when you're in love !!!!!

#leehan ୨୧ #boynextdoor smut #bnd smut #bnd hard hours #bnd hard thoughts #boy next door smut #boynextdoor hard hours #leehan smut #leehan hard hours #leehan hard thoughts

[iamasaddie]

Never Have I Ever read a Librarian! Marcus P fic. 🥰 I’m not really a Marcus P kinda girl, more of a Dave York (iykyk) girl BUT as someone who works at a library, Marcus P would be the best guy to get lost in the book shelves with 🤭😏

Hi, birdie <3 This is actually such a sweet idea! I haven't seen fics like this either! At first, I was just gonna send this ask out sending writers that see this your idea for a fic. But then I thought about it and something hit me, so here's my take on librarian!Marcus Pike. I gave it my own twist, but I hope you can still enjoy it <3

you're such a heavenly view

paring: Marcus Pike x f!Reader rating: explicit (18+ minors DNI) word count: 2.1k~ summary: He wants to be in love again. He's just not really sure how. a/n: This was written on a whim. Thank you to the amazing anon for planting the thought of librarian Marcus in my head <3 Not beta-ed, all mistakes are my own so pls don't plagiarize them. warnings: pining, Marcus Pike is shy and horny, male masturbation; no use of y/n MY MASTERLIST

Marcus loved the quiet. 

He loved the whisper of turning pages and scribbling pens being the only noise in the spacious library he worked at. A humdrum nine-to-five that most people tried to escape became his salvation. He felt calm, at peace, a feeling that wasn’t prominent in his life before.

When he came here over two years ago just to help his old friend out, with his heart ripped to shreds and falling apart, the walls of this place held it together. And then you and your gentle smiles as you checked out books put bandaids all over it, so it started healing.

Marcus first saw you a year ago, by that time he was already comfortably moving along the labyrinths of the abode of books, knowing every section almost by heart. He still remembered your tiny manicured fingers nervously tapping the reception table as he looked through the computer base for the availability of Giorgio Vasari’s "Lives of the Artists". Before you, art section was one he never frequented for two reasons: first, he didn’t need the reminder of the past that he tried to separate from his present; and second, he knew pretty much every book there by heart. 

As his eyes bore into the screen, looking for the right title, with his peripheral vision he saw you burning a hole in the side of his face. Marcus couldn’t help but chuckle, it was a while since a beautiful woman had been interested in him. Or since he noticed. You hurried to stray your gaze away, and his smile became bigger, now showing his teeth. You saw him noticing you and got flustered, that only meant that you staring was intentional. Marcus confirmed that the book you needed was available, but since it was a rare edition you couldn’t leave with it. The library was surprisingly empty for the first month of autumn, but at least you wouldn’t have any problems with staying and doing your research there. You nodded, agreeing with him. The place was quite cozy, you thought that to yourself the moment you entered from the windy autumn street.

"Let me show you to the art section, it’s pretty difficult to navigate these corridors the first time you’re here." Marcus left the librarian desk he had been occupying for the last year and motioned his hand to the right direction.

"Only the first?" You raised your eyebrows and smiled. Damn, you were beautiful in your flared jeans and a big white t-shirt with a warm-looking sweater on top. Your hair in a messy bun, either it was messy because of the wind or because you wanted it to be. Anyway, you looked fantastic like that, so Marcus smiled back automatically.

"Well, the first fifty."

You laughed, and he stumbled at the sound. Marcus felt his cheeks burn with pride, he forgot how pleasant it was to make a pretty girl laugh.

It was over a year ago, and still he remembered that beautiful sound you let out. One of the beautiful moments you shared that he kept sealed in his mind. Even though all your interactions were friendly, and sometimes borderline flirtatious, something always stopped Pike, and he got used to seeing you leaving with a nod and a tight-lipped smile, now almost never lifting your eyes up to meet his as you sat studying behind one of the many similar wooden tables. 

He cursed himself, cursed his cowardice and the fact that he got panic attacks any time he tried to tell you a compliment. He hated that he became tongue-tied whenever you asked his opinion on one of the books you checked out. And when his brain was swarming with knowledge, the influences the author had, or the way the work was transcending the time it was written in; his mouth only said ‘it’s a good book’ or worse ‘it’s not bad’. He wanted to punch himself, but that would mean lifting his arms that were numb and limp on both sides of his body.

Today was not an exception, unfortunately. Marcus was sitting behind his desk, pristine, clean and occupied only by his work computer and a book he had been reading during the quiet times. You came over less than half an hour ago, saying your usual hello and asking about yet another book on art. You’d almost read them all, and Marcus was frantically thinking what would happen when you check out the last book from the art section, a place in the library that no one else went to. He told you where to find a copy of "Janson’s History of Art" and you nodded, going in the right direction without needing his help anymore. You didn't look up at him when you took your usual place near the window and placed the book on the table.

Marcus sighed, looking as you brows furrowed when you read something and started rewriting it in your notebook. Art section was your place. Yours and his. It was special, at least for him. He had walked you there exactly forty nine times. Not because you couldn’t remember where to go, no, you were confident in your stride the third time; but because it became a sort of a joke between the two of you. Sometimes you’d just come over and ask him to show you where the art section was, telling him that it was only your 21st, 33rd, 45th time in the library and you didn’t have the opportunity to learn all the right turns yet. He laughed, but always walked you there. Sometimes you were silent, sometimes you’d ask him silly questions (‘What is the rarest book here?’ 'First edition of Oscar Wilde's "The Happy Prince and Other Tales" with the author's inscription.’; ‘What is the worst thing a person did in the library?’ ‘Tried to rip a page out of the first edition of Oscar Wilde's "The Happy Prince and Other Tales"’; ‘Did you stop them?’ ‘Kind of.’; ‘Is the horror section haunted?’ ‘Yes.’). You hadn’t asked him to walk you to the art section for a month now. Marcus even wanted to suggest it himself, but his tongue felt too heavy and big for his mouth whenever he tried.

So he was left with watching. Just like dozens of times before. As he quietly observed from a distance, Marcus couldn't help but lose himself in the beauty of your presence amidst the mundane decorations of his workplace.He thought that he knew you face better than his own by now. The structure of your cheekbones, the curve of your lip, the depth of your cupid’s bow. He could close his eyes and draw you in his sleep. You were engrossed in the book when another wave of hot air from the AC above you tousled your hair. Winter this year was abnormally cold, so to keep the building warm Marcus had to turn up the temperature on the AC pretty high. Maybe he overdid it today. He saw you wiping a lonely droplet of sweat running from your temple. Yes, he definitely overdid it today.

He reached to stand up and go to the temperature controller when you started tugging up your usual bulky green sweater, and dropped back into his chair as the material of your sweater and t-shirt stuck together, so you almost took both items off. Marcus choked on his saliva seeing so much of you that he never saw before. Sure, you wore knee-length shorts and oversized t-shirts during summer, sometimes you even put on a dress when it was too hot for anything else, but this was different. The swell of your naked stomach, the almost-not-there lacy edge of your black bra, fuck, it felt so intimate. 

Marcus squeezed his thighs under the table, his cock getting hard with every thought his brain provides. Fuck, it was really not a time or a place for a boner, but you looked so… He pinched the bridge of his nose, shutting his eyes and trying to relax, but instead of that he saw images of your naked skin over and over again, followed by fake scenarios where he ripped the shirt off you, kissing your willing body with his greedy mouth. Marcus could almost feel the softness of your skin under his palms, and he bit his lower lip at the phantom feeling, trying to suppress a moan.

He didn’t notice how his legs brought him to the secluded area of the art section, his hands hysterically pulling out his stiff cock from the confines of his pants, while his mind completely shut off. 

It was almost primal, the incandescent feeling inside him that made him spit in the palm of his hand before wrapping it around his shaft.

"Fuck," his whisper was quiet, even though it was unlikely that anyone could hear him anyway. There were less than eight patrons when he left the main hall, all of them engrossed in their literature of choice, and he still had an hour before he had to close.

His spit-slicked hand tightened around his cock as he moved it up and down, circling the weeping head every time. Goddamn, he was sick. Fucked up. Getting hard after seeing the stomach of the girl he had been swooning over for almost a year. What in the teenage hormones was this bullshit? 

Your skin, the swelling of your stomach, the tiny dip of your belly button. Fuck, he wanted to dip his tongue in the little canyon of your body and hear you suffocating on giggles.

Up, down, up, down.

He looked down, watching his hand methodically moving around his fat cock. As he got closer to his orgasm, the veins that led from the base to the tip of his cock became more pronounced, the head getting darker with every stroke. "God-fucking-dammit, baby," he dropped his head back, punching a wall but barely noticing any pain as he got succumbed by his pleasure. "So fucking gorgeous. Mine. Mine. Only mine."

If anyone heard Marcus, they’d consider him a psycho, his hoarse whisper feverishly calling someone his when he was the only one in the room. He didn’t give a single fuck. In his little fantasy, right now, you were his. Only for him to touch, only for him to love. He tripped over the edge, as his mind flooded by the memory when you first laughed at his joke, and he came all over his fist moaning your name as quietly as possible, as four thick ropes of cum painted his skin pearly white.

Marcus didn’t hear the footsteps, orgasm claiming every sense in his body until he heard a quiet ‘oh’, the voice too familiar to mistake its’ owner.

"Fuck, fuck, oh God, sorry, this is not what you think it is." His eyes went wide at the sight of you. You were pressing your copy of "Janson’s History of Art" to your chest, face curious and almost… amused? He pulled his boxers up, trying not to wince when the thick rubber band scratched the sensitive skin of his spent cock.

"Isn’t it?" You raised your eyebrows at Marcus, and he remembered that he was still standing in front of you with his pants fully undone and his boxers stained with the cum he wiped on them in a hurry. 

"No." He shook his head frantically, tugging on the zipper and trying to quickly zip it up when the hem of his shirt stuck in it and he cursed, almost tearing it out.

"So you weren’t just masturbating thinking of me, and the fact that you moaned my name as you came was just a coincidence?"

'How long had you been standing there?' Marcus thought. He heard your steps closing in on him, but didn’t dare to raise his eyes to see the disgust on your face. Instead, he continued fighting with the zipper.

"Yes," he nodded, and then immediately shook his head. "No. Look, I can explain." Marcus searched his brain for the right answer, for something that could fix all of this mess, but coming up empty. His sigh was deep, almost hurting his lungs as he gave up. "Okay, I maybe can’t explain, I’m just… Sorry."

"I’m not." 

He snapped his head up so fast that the sides of his vision went black for half of a second. "What?"  

You were close. Very close. If you reached your arm out you could help him with a zipper he abandoned in stupor.

"I was planning to come over at the last moment tomorrow and ask you to walk me here," you stepped even closer, placing your hand on his chest and feeling the rapid fire of Marcus’ heartbeat. "You know, for our last time."

He just nodded, the blood pumping in his ears made it almost impossible to understand what you were saying, so he just stared at your lips, unconsciously licking his.

"And then," both your hands circled his neck, burrowing in the slightly damp hair at his nape, "I was going to blow you right against the rare editions shelf."

"Wha..—" 

Marcus wasn’t able to finish when your lips crushed into his, tasting each other for the first time. Suddenly, he wasn’t so tongue-tied anymore.

PLEASE WRITE A COMMENT IF YOU ENJOYED THE STORY ♥︎

#marcus pike #marcus pike x reader #iamasaddie fic #pedro pascal fic #the mentalist fic

[toomanyfandomsimfanvergent]

Rafe Cameron x Reader

Summary: Rafe realizes he needs to get clean. You help him start the journey.

Warnings: Drug Abuse Mentions, Withdrawal, cursing, etc, if any of this triggers you please do not read it.

A/N: This is what won my recent poll, so enjoy! Also, please reblog or leave a comment, this fic was not easy to write and took a lot of time.

--------------------------------------------------------

Rafe woke up not knowing where he was. He opened his eyes to a light grey wall facing him. He winces as he feels the pounding headache from last night's festivities. The last thing he remembered was doing a line of coke with Topper.

He soon sees a familiar hoodie draped on the back of a chair and realizes he's in your bed. You weren't at the party so he can't figure out why the hell he would be in your room.

He gets out of bed and walks toward the door before opening it and walking out into the hallway. He hears noises in the living room and walks in there to find you, pacing on the phone.

You look at him and speak into the phone, "Oh, he just woke up I'll text you later." Before setting down the phone and crossing your arms.

You were not happy to say the least. But you couldn't be mad at Rafe. It wasn't his fault. You were mad at the world.

"I, what happened?" Rafe stumbles over his words. He clasps his hands together to prevent you from notving.how badly they were shaking. His heart was beating out of chest over worrying about how he found you.

"I got called to the party by a very coked out Topper to take you home. Rafe, we need to talk about this," you say and Rafe knows exactly what you mean.

He sits on the couch and you take a seat a few inches away from him. You reach out to take his hand and he gladly grasps yours.

"I need to quit, I cant. I can't get through the withdrawl," he says while looking at the floor. You nod before speaking.

"You're going to kill yourself if you don't stop. And I won't stay around while you do it. But if you want to get clean, if you really do, I will help you every step of the way," you say as tears threaten to spill down your cheeks.

"I don't want you to have to do-" you cut him off.

"Rafe, I love you and I will help you get through it," you state and he nods as a tear slips down his face.

"You know how bad it's going to be?" He asks before looking you in the eye for the first time that day.

"We can handle it," you promise and he nods.

--------------------------------------------------------

It has been three days since Rafe had began getting clean. The worst day so far. But it wouldn't be the worst day to come.

Rafe had barely left the bed at all. He couldn't stay awake and he was barely eating. He felt like shit all day but you stayed by his side.

But today was when the anger set in. You both knew it would happen. Rafe had a little bit of a temper and the withdrawal would definitely bring it you.

"God Y/N, why do you care so fucking much?" He screams at you. The only thought going through his head was how he was going to get more coke. He needed the relief.

"Rafe, I'm not going to fight with you. This is the withdrawal, not you." You state and manage to keep from bursting into tears.

"You don't care about me, you just care about feeling good about yourself!" He yells, "You just want to fix me! Well guess what you bitch? I don't need to be fucking saved!" He screamed before running off to your guest room and slamming the door.

You let out a shaky breath as a tear slips down your face. Seeing Rafe like this hurt so much. Your heart was being ripped to shreds from the inside out from seeing him like this.

But it would all be worth it. Rage would get clean and he would go back to the man you fell in love with. You had spent hours on Google and from what you learned the worst of the withdrawal would be over soon.

After an hour, Rafe begins to calm down. He realizes how fucked up the things he yelled at you were. The immense out of guilt in his stomach made him want to throw up.

He ran to the bathroom as the overwhelming wave of nausea over took him. After finishing vomiting and cleaning off his face (and quickly brushing his teeth), he needed to find you.

He left your guest room and went straight to your room. He knocked before opening the door to see you.

He shut the door behind him before crawling into bed with you. You wrap your arms around him as he cries.

"I'm the one who should be hugging you, I-I said all of those. Those horrible things about you," he cries into your shoulder.

You snake your hand under his shirt to run soothing circles on his back, "Rafe, it's okay." A few silent tears slip down your cheek as you soothe your lover.

"It's going to be okay Rafe," you say in an almost whisper.

He feels his eyes get heavy as his breathing slows before he falls asleep on your chest. You look down at his peaceful figure and smile. He would have a little peace for now.

He was getting paler and you could already tell he was losing weight. His eyes stayed droopy and unfocused, he never stopped fidgeting. It pained you to see him have to suffer like this.

But you would help him get through it.

#rafe outer banks #rafe angst #rafe x y/n #rafe imagine #rafe cameron #outerbanks rafe #rafe fanfiction #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron fluff #Tw drug mention #Obx #obx kooks

[spacexseven]

ALSO since you are a lover of The Chuuya ill do some pathetic subordinate au chuuya stuff too! I'll try to make this one shorter since the dazai one is such a monster.

I think hed kinda do the opposite thing that dazai does- not that he doesnt kiss your ass a LITTLE, he’ll definitely send a bunch of gifts to your house and rush to complete some of your work for you and write you love poems (that he never sends, too embarrassed. probably for the best. his prose tends to go from Suprisingly Sweet to Incredibly Creepy really fast.), but unlike dazai hes pretty attached to his reputation and thus doesn't wanna burn it away by sobbing for you until you finally cave and come hold him, as much as he might like to. to keep up his street cred while still getting you to trust him, he'll have to be more subtle. (he's not subtle at all everyone knows)

I could see his MO being to just kinda. put himself in your space as much as possible. surely, if he just hangs around you and doesnt insult you or anything like that you'll eventually realize hes not that bad? he'll even come and help you with your work, see! nice guy, really! please forget all the shit he used to say to you and that time he choke slammed you into a wall he won't do it again!

he finds himself really wanting to be useful to you. he was a pretty shitty superior, he'll admit that, but there has to be a way to make it up to you! if there's something you want, he'll get it for you. a task that needs doing, he'll complete it. a nuisance that needs to be dealt with, hes your guy. very easy for him to go to the traditional Ill Kill For You yan route here, anyone whose bad to you will know his WRATH. abusive relative? not anymore! cheating ex? bye bye! some fuck harassing you? gone! anyone who hurts his angel has to die, hes put you through enough already as it is.

- 🩹

i love your wonderful brain my friend :>

cw: yandere themes, stalking, implied breaking in + murder

compared to dazai, chuuya's hit by guilt faster, and harder. it takes a great toll on him, but he abhors the idea of anyone knowing that he was feeling broken-hearted and remorseful over some lower-ranking member. so unlike dazai's public (and embarrassing) pleads for forgiveness and lovesickness, chuuya's far more...silent about it. sure, he makes sure you're receiving his gifts, lightens your workload, and watches out for you, even deciding to avenge you in many instances. he's aware of and has long accepted the fact that he will never be recognized for his efforts, never be thanked for his help and he definitely isn't going to win your favor with anything he does, but how can he leave you alone?

of course, everyone else knows. there's whispers amongst the members of black lizard that executive chuuya nakahara personally takes care of anyone who dares utter a single negative word about you, koyou has to deal with chuuya's numerous requests for advice, and even dazai knows that chuuya's become a lovesick little puppy (naturally, he fails to notice the irony).

it's a regular sight now, to see chuuya bent over and scribbling on a piece of paper, before groaning and ripping it to shreds. anyone who manages to put together the strips is able to see what looks to be multiple lines of poetry, quite eloquently written if not for the extreme emotions being expressed in them.

while he avoids meeting with you directly, chuuya can't help but linger. he waits around the corner from your home, hoping to catch a glimpse of you walking by. he stands by the pavement outside the bar you frequent, cigarette in hand, figuring out a way to bump into you and make it look accidental, hopes you'll stop if only to stare for a moment. at least he's not all in your face and annoying you to no end like someone is, and that should score him a few points, right?

and yes, he yearns to be of some use for you, wants to help you in any way possible so that you don't see him as a nuisance and throw him aside forever. and if helping you meant staying behind you and cleaning up, if helping meant exacting revenge in your name, or even if it meant staying out of your way, he'll do it without complaint.

#yandere bsd #yandere bungo stray dogs x reader #yandere bsd x reader #yandere bungo stray dogs #yandere bungou stray dogs #bsd #bungo stray dogs x reader #bungou stray dogs x reader #bungo stray dogs #bungou stray dogs #yandere chuuya x reader #yandere chuuya nakahara #chuuya x reader #drabble 🐟 #bsd 🐟 #ask 🐟 #anon 🐟 #dazai 🩹 🐟 #subordinate au 🐟 #chuuya 🐟

[hailsatanacab]

@the-witchhunter - this is incredibly disturbing, i love it. fair warning, i took it more in the direction of that oglaf comic (nsfw) where Vlad fully doesn't realise that this is a love shrine, this is a completely normal thing that you do for your arch enemy!

———

“Daniel! I can explain!”

“Oh… my… God...”

“Daniel, really, it’s not what it looks like!”

“Really?” Danny breathes, shocked and honestly kind of fighting down the urge to vomit. The thermos slips from his fingers and clatters to the ground, the sound echoing far too loudly in the enclosed space. “Because it looks like you have a shrine dedicated to my dad in your closet.”

“No, that’s not—it’s more complicated than that, Daniel. You wouldn’t understand.”

“I don’t think I want to understand.”

“Your father is a ridiculous man, Daniel. I hate his stupid face so much. Look at him!”

Vlad turns back to the actual shrine, with actual candles and actual flowers and actual photos of his dad with… Holy crap, did Vlad cut out Mom in each of the photos? What the fuck? 

Wait… Look, Danny tries not to look too closely at the weird things Vlad has hidden around his mansion dedicated to his mom, but he’s fairly sure that the pictures of her he’s cut out (in heart shapes—yeah, Danny’s definitely going to barf) are the ones Vlad’s put in his other weirdo closet shrine that Danny also wishes he’d never seen.

“Why don’t you just have one shrine? Why have—no, you know what, I don’t want to know. I think I’m just gonna leave.”

Yeah, that sounds like the best option. Danny takes a cautious step back, very ready to get back home, bleach his eyeballs and maybe never look at his mom and dad ever again. Or, at least, not until he has successfully blocked this from his mind forever.

He only gets one foot out the door when Vlad lashes out and grabs him. The day just keeps getting better and better, really, doesn’t it? Even as he twists and turns, he can’t get out of Vlad’s ironclad grip and he’s pulled even farther into the closet. 

Panic rises in his throat as Vlad shuts the door—what the fuck is happening? He doesn’t want to be dragged into Vlad’s creepy shrine to his dad, what the fuck? What the fuck!

“I loathe your father, Daniel, I hate him with the very core of my being. Look at him!” 

There’s no goddamn way in hell Danny is looking at any of the pictures, no thank you. He squeezes his eyes shut and wishes he were somewhere, anywhere else, when Vlad jerks his arm forward so he comes nose-to-nose with the largest framed portrait of his dad in the very centre of the table, smiling with his doctorate and a very unfortunate 80s mullet. Dear God, no.

“I hate his smug face! I hate his stupid fashion sense, you have no idea how much I detest that orange jumpsuit of his, how much I want to claw it off him and tear it to shreds! If I have to listen to him say another boneheaded, idiotic, ridiculous thing, I will—I’ll rip his throat out with my teeth! You don't know how long I spend here looking at him, imaging all the ways I'll have him grovelling at my feet. One day, Daniel, I'll have him one day...”

———

The sun was going down when Danny finally managed to escape and find solace in Sam and Tucker. He's not going home. Not yet.

“Danny, are you okay? We were so worried, we couldn’t get hold of you for hours! Where were you?”

“Sam, Tuck… Vlad, he…”

“Holy shit, Danny, you’re shaking, are you alright? What happened, what did he do?”

“I think… I think he wants to fuck my dad.”

#danny phantom #vlad masters #jack fenton #phan phic #hope you enjoy!! this was so fun i can totally see it happening haha #also i spent a solid three hours going through the oglaf archive to find those two comics so like... double procrastination #thanks! #does vlad want to fuck jack or is he just incredibly unhinged? #trick question it's both #this is the most harrowing torture vlad has ever put danny through btw #locking him in the weird shrine closet and forcing him to listen to everything he wants to do with his dad #lbr tho if vlad ever did get to fuck jack OR maddie it would ruin him #like he wouldn't know what to do with himself after that there's no coming back #he'd be a shell of a human being #ANYWAY hope you enjoyed it!! thank you for the prompt!! #my writing #cab writes

[mandareeboo]

N didn't infect Uzi with murder drone syndrome...

In my last theory, I posited that N may have accidentally infected Uzi with the murder drone virus. This new episode has given me pause to reflect and realize it's much, much worse.

He didn't infect her with robo-vampirism. He infected her with Cyn.

"Home" gave us a lot of interesting backstory and details, but in this case I think the fact that Cyn can control murder drones- hell, she seems to have built them from scratch- is what we need to focus on. V and J both were taken over by Cyn's control, and they were forced to do some wack shit under that power.

But some robots weren't. N seemed entirely out of Cyn's control, beyond some gentle manipulation of his emotions. This explains why N was considered the worst murder drone- unlike the others, he was always of full sound mind.

We don't know why, exactly. There's plenty of possibilities. Maybe something in N's hardwiring rendered Cyn unable to. Maybe she just enjoyed his company as is, and that's why she wiped his mind over and over again- to keep that dynamic. The point is- while Cyn wants to be close to N, she shows no interest in taking over his body.

Which means she has to go elsewhere.

JC Jenson may or may not know about Cyn. It doesn't really matter. What we know they're aware of for sure is that an entire party was ripped to robo-shreds by a herd of self-healing robots with metallic wings. Who better, they decided, to become their soldiers? The acid seems to be something they put together- something Cyn has since decided to evolve a tail to mimic.

Cyn wants to be free. She wants to keep chatting with N, and to do whatever her heart desires. There's very little she can achieve as simply a program inside of every murder drone. She needs a body.

When N stabbed her (or when he healed her, it's hard to say; but I'm banking on the former for a reason I'll get into soon) Cyn was inside his body. She's inside of every murder drone- it's why they heal. And part of her escaped into Uzi.

Uzi's showing every sign of slowly being infected.

THIS is what Cyn does. THAT'S how Cyn controls every murder drone. She's a virus, infected them and turning them into puppets OR a fancy new suit for her to wear.

And Uzi's not the only one! Doll's afflicted too, and I think it comes from V murdering her family. It's entirely possible that Doll cut herself on some claws, or escaped with "only a dent". I think Doll's taking longer because she's not in close contact with N. But does it matter? They're both suitable hosts. And I think...

I think this is the result.

#Murder Drones #MD Analysis #Murder Drones Analysis #Cyn #Uzi Doorman #Doll #Falc talks

[sapphic-woes]

For spooky season maybe cause like you wrote abby last time, werewolf abby and you are her mate (Really like the scenario with soulmate shit oops) and idk maybe your daily life with her or some other things like how she met you and knew you were hers? idk my brains fried rn soooo yeah here ya go, have fun and I hope you have an awesome day ❤️

🐺

Ok these days I'm so busy I rlly can only do hcs so:

🐺Werewolf Abby🐺

Honestly I imagine this happening because you just moved into a rural-ish town as a doctor.

You wanted to make a real difference and help others. You're like, working in a rundown hospital and one of the only people who can do simple surgeries there.

Anyways, the town itself has a big werewolf population, which Abby is a part of ofc

You run into her because let's say Manny gets hurt fighting another werewolf from a diff clan, and they just say he was attacked by an animal and take him to your hospital .

She immediately is tongue tied, can't speak. Everyone is a little confused until her wolf starts howling–and then everyone except you know she just found her mate.

I'm thinking there isn't really like. Alphas and that shit here. Just Abby is one of the top people in her clan like og Abby, so people respect her. So, it's a big deal that she's found her mate.

You notice random people are just...nicer to you. Helpful. The whole town that was pretty standoffish before is just brighter now.....

...and Abby is literally everywhere.

She pops up in the most random places. She flirts. She makes your heart jump and cheeks go red, and somehow she always notices.

Anyways, you're falling hard and fast, yet she's still so mysterious to you. She has a large family, but none of them look related, people just seem to listen to her, even if she's younger than them. She carries herself like a leader, she's so charismatic you just want to do everything she says.

Eventually, when you're working with the EMT out in the woods to get someone help, you find out why.

You're attacked by wolves...only to be saved by one much, much bigger one.

Abby is ruthless, and she rips the other wolves to shreds before shifting back into her human form. She's bloody, covered in dirt and naked–but perhaps the scariest thing of all is that she still doesn't look fully human.

She's got glowing silver eyes and fangs, nails that look like claws...and she's staring right at you.

You panic, you run–in fact, you make it pretty damn far because Abby is too worried to follow you and scare you more. But you trip, fall, and scrap your knee, and when Abby smells your blood she's immediately worried.

"It's okay, I promise, I'm not gonna hurt you babe–I could never dream of it." Abby approaches you slowly. Carefully. She knows what she must seem like to you now: a terrifying monster rather than a person...and she hates herself for it.

"D-don't, don't touch me!" You barely yell it, flinching when she takes another step towards you. Abby winces like your words are daggers in her skin, offering a sorry smile.

"I just need to bring you somewhere safe. You can't walk right? Please, y/n you know me by now. Do you really think I'd hurt the girl I've been flirting with this whole time?" She had a point, and you stayed frozen as you watched her approach, though you didn't protest anymore. You shut your eyes when she reached for you, remembering how she'd ripped those other wolves into pieces before–

And yet, when she lifted you up in her arms, she carried you as if you were made of diamonds.

She kinda disappears after that.

Abby is way too scared of scaring you off. But her being gone after being so active in your life leaves a gaping hole. You start to miss her a lot, and you realize how much you loved her stupid teasing and cocky attitude.

So when you guys do run into each other again and Abby tries to highkey run away, you don't let her.

"Wait!" You gripped the sleeve of her arm, sucking in a breath as wide blue eyes focused on you. You can't speak for a moment before you finally burst out.

"I never thanked you. I, um, I wanted to do that...for saving me, I mean..." Abby's speechless, she blinks before she hoarsely speaks.

"A-are you sure? You don't have to. I know I–what you saw was–"

"It was scary, Abby. I won't lie about that. But..." You took a step closer to her, and you swore her lips trembled, "it wasn't enough to make me scared of you. Promise. So... don't run away anymore, okay?"

For once, the Abby Anderson's face tinges pink, and she clears her throat–scratching the back of her head as she quickly nods.

"Y-yeah. Yeah. I can do that. I can definitely do that..."

#abby anderson #abby anderson x reader #abby x reader #tlou2 #abby headcanons #tlou2 headcanons #🐺 anon

[hazbincalifornia]

I like the thought of Verosika/Barbie where they meet in rehab and they're both just... assholes. Trying to detox sucks. Barbie reminds Verosika too much of Blitzo, and Verosika is just a rich, privileged, self-obsessed dick to Barbie. At first, they prickle at each other.

Barbie chased fame and it tore her to shreds, lost her her brother and her dignity as she fell into addiction while clawing to keep on top even as she sank under. Verosika has everything she wants, is looked up to, has a Crystal from Ozzie himself.

On Verosika's side, Barbie is a bitter, washed-up too-crass imp that spits swears like they're air, always sneaking in hits from somewhere and draped over the back of the center's couch like she's a cat on a windowsill, burnt by the world and hissing if anyone gets too close.

There are flashes of the entertainer she used to be buried underneath, though- she whips out jokes easily as breathing when there's the chance. She's whip-smart and agile as anything when soberish, seen on ledges more than the floor. When she gets attention, she positively glows.

Barbie wants the high of fame back, the chance to be something, be someone, and Verosika walks around with an air of being someone better than anyone else, and Barbie believes it. She blew her shot, and she blames the world the way her brother blames himself.

One day, she realizes nobody visits Verosika either. She only leaves when she's hired for a gig, which is still better than what Barbie gets, but she doesn't talk about missing anyone like some of the others do. (Many don't, it can be a weakness to tear at, but there are tells.)

(She was hired 'to lead their team' for Spring Broken, remember- those aren't her friends, her group. She might have known them, but they're not 'hers'. She's seemingly usually a solo act.)

Then, Barbie notices the tattoo. They'd never been in quite the right angle or this close before, and she knows exactly what that means. She doesn't know how to feel, but goes up to Verosika and says 'So, my dipshit brother broke your heart, huh?'

Verosika starts, staring down at her until Barbie hops up on the table and takes a swig of water like she wishes it was something harder. "Blitzo. He's my brother. He fucked off years ago. I'd apologize but I don't know what he did or if you deserved it."

There's a lot in those words, and Verosika's lips tighten. "He fucked off with my wallet and car, drained the cards on horse-riding lessons." Barbie wheezes with laughter at that, and it sounds so much like Blitzo that Verosika can't tell if she wants to smack her or kiss her.

"You know, all this time I've been picturing what I'd do once I got out of here, and taking you down a peg for being such a stuck-up bitch was on that list, but it sounds like he already did it for me." She has a lopsided grin, so very punchable.

Then it softens a little, and the growl in Verosika's throat dies. "Musta really fucked you up, huh? Everybody knows I haven't got jack or shit left at this point, but you had to like him enough to get his stupid name plastered right on your arm before he ripped you off."

Verosika considers for a moment, before giving a slight nod. "Yeah. He was an asshole. I thought we had something, but..." "He runs when things get hard. Fucking pussy." Barbie examines her claws, born with black polish. "Guess if he already fucked you up I don't have to."

"Oh, you're a doll," Verosika said sarcastically. "Because I have so much to fear from a washup nobody ever gave more than a half-hour's worth of a shit about." Barbie's fingers curl into a fist. She glares, and what Verosika sees in her eyes isn't as satisfying as she expected.

After that, it comes in bits and pieces. Slowly, Barbie sees that Verosika is still shuffled around like a talented pet and shoved back in order to keep her just sober enough to be useful. Slowly, Verosika sees Barbie as someone else who was hurt but never gets a second chance.

(The first time they kiss, it tastes of booze smuggled in through Verosika's chest and Barbie's boot, a little sweaty but a solace from the world that saw them both as tools, one still useful and one tossed away to rust.)

#helluva boss #verosika mayday #barbie wire #verbie #this was a twitter thread that turned out like 750 words oops #shadow writes stuff

[bassettmemes]

THE LOVE HYPOTHESIS. ↳ quotes from the love hypothesis by ali hazelwood. some quotes have been edited for clarity or usability.

"carry yourself with the confidence of a mediocre white man."

"i'm going to kill you."

"i wish you could see yourself the way i see you."

"i'm starting to wonder if this is what being in love is. being okay with ripping yourself to shreds, so the other person can stay whole."

"you can fall in love. someone will catch you."

"i'll come find you, and i'll take care of you."

"did you... did you just kiss me?"

"expiration dates are for the weak."

"i think about you before falling asleep. then i dream of you."

"it's fine. more material for my title ix complaint."

"this might be inappropriate, but, you are really extraordinary."

"i know it’s scary, being vulnerable, but you can allow yourself to care."

"everyone likes tall, broody, sullen hunks with genius iqs."

"a good kiss will do that: make a girl forget herself for a while."

"i liked you when i didn’t know you, and now that i do know you, it’s only gotten worse."

"you could stay mad, and we could go to your lab and throw test tubes full of toxic reagents at each other until the pain of third-degree burns overrides your shitty mood? sounds like fun, no?"

"my heart may be broken, but my brain is doing just fine."

"i'm fine. i mean, i wish i were dead, but aside from that..."

"i've never been surer of anything. except maybe cell theory."

"hypothesis: the more i mention an attachment in an email, the less likely i will be to actually include said attachment."

"are they deporting you back to canada because we've been sharing a netflix password?"

"tell them we didn't know it was a federal crime."

"i think that somewhere along the way i forgot that i was something. i forgot myself."

"academia takes a lot from you and gives back a little."

"not having a life came in handy sometimes."

"i do reserve the right to comment on your abysmal taste in men."

"pumpkin spice is satan’s dandruff, harbinger of the apocalypse, and it tastes like ass—not in the good way."

"hypothesis: if i fall in love, things will invariably end poorly."

"you just had to go and make me fall for you."

"a heart will break even more easily than the weakest of hydrogen bonds."

"there will only be one bed. it doesn't matter what it says; it's always one bed."

"i must say, the line between excellent career choice and critical life screwup is getting a bit blurry."

"you probably don’t like ice cream anyway, because you don’t enjoy anything that’s good in life."

"i have access to your google calendar, asshole. you're not busy. if you don't want to hang out with me, you can just be honest."

"to be fair, i don't like people in general."

"how much do you hate this, on a scale from one to ‘correlation equals causation’?"

"hypothesis: any rumor regarding my love life will spread with a speed that is directly proportional to my desire to keep said rumor a secret."

"approximately two out of three fake-dating situations will eventually involve room-sharing; 50 percent of room-sharing situations will be further complicated by the presence of only one bed."

"i'm never going to get used to the fact that professors are real people and have first names."

"that’s the thing with science. we’re drilled to believe that false positives are bad, but false negatives are just as terrifying."

"maybe so many years alone has warped me in some fundamental way."

"did this fortune cookie just throw shade at me?"

"based on the available information and the data hitherto collected, my hypothesis is that the farther away i stay from love, the better off I will be."

"i had financially rich, but emotionally poor, parents."

"talking on the phone is the hardest, most stressful thing in the world."

"no. i don't want to fake break-up."

#sentence starters #sentence prompts #sentence starter #sentence meme #roleplay prompts #rp prompts #rp prompt #writing prompts #writing prompt #romance starters #romantic starters #romantic rp meme #the love hypothesis sentence starters #the love hypothesis rp meme #the love hypothesis starters

[best-titan-7274]

anon from 2017 here again, aaaaa you really already wrote a lot of the stuff I was thinking about back then. I love all of your request, I wanted to read some casual and fun stuff about Cooper and BT being okay post-canon for the longest time. the fic you're working on also sounds like something I would love to read, and you're already working on it, so thank you. fandom does have some nice fix-it fics, but I didn't read one yet that would've felt just right, so I'm pretty excited to see your take on it!

the only personal request I have - maybe more fluff, if you have any ideas for it. <3

The fic is about 50/50 "Jack's depression arc" and "fluff with brief interludes of hurt/comfort". It's gonna be fun if I don't get distracted by eight bajillion other fics in the meantime (I will). In the meantime, more fluff!

"Good morning, Jack," BT says.

Jack yawns and gives a half-hearted movement that might have been a wave if he put more effort into it but ends up looking more like a wrist flop of some kind.

"Whassup, BT?"

"I have been informed it is your birthday. Captain Lastimosa informed me it is traditional for most humans to celebrate birthdays. I would like to congratulate you on aging another year."

Only BT can say it like that, and somehow, Jack has come to find it extremely endearing. Besides, he's seen enough to know how many soldiers don't age another year, especially in the Titan Corps.

"Aw, thanks, buddy," he says. He reaches up to pat BT's arm, and manages a not-too-tired-looking smile when BT looks down at him. "You got a present for me, too?"

"I do. Commander Briggs helped me obtain an appropriate item."

"Wait, for real?"

"Yes."

Jack had expected a couple of people to congratulate him over lunch, a call from Briggs maybe, but not for his Titan to take the initiative to get him a gift, of all things. Until now, he wasn't even sure that BT remembered his birthday, even though Jack knew the date BT was created and then first deployed with Lastimosa.

"Do I get to see it, or are you gonna make me guess?" he asks.

"Commander Briggs was kind enough to store the item in my cockpit if you would like to embark."

"Aw, you know me, BT, I always like spending time with you."

"Your sentiment is returned."

Yep. Only BT.

BT holds a hand out to help him up, something that still comes across as polite no matter how many times he does it. Jack could get up on his own, but he's seen other newbie Pilots overshoot with their jump kit and smack right into the door of the cockpit before it has time to open. He's never made a mistake like that, and he doesn't intend to in the future. And not just because he'd never live it down.

He's careful as he embarks, not wanting to crush the box set on the seat. Green wrapping paper, orange bow - not the exact same shades as BT, but pretty close, and he's impressed by how much it looks like his Titan's paint job. Nice attention to detail, from whoever picked it.

"Was it your idea or Briggs' to tie a bow?" he can't help asking.

"I suggested to Commander Briggs that the wrapping should be as traditional as possible. My image analysis indicated that bows are expected more often than not."

Jack settles in the seat, box in his lap, and tries to be gentle with the wrapping paper instead of ripping it all off in a shredded clump. He doesn't think BT will mind - not a lot bothers him, except Jack being in danger - but this is the first time he's gotten a present in a while.

And hey, maybe he can convince BT to wear the bow for a while. Get a few pictures to show the other Pilots. BT sometimes just looks at him before walking away, when he suggests photoshoots, but he's pretty sure he can leverage the whole birthday thing to get at least a picture.

Inside the paper is a box, and then another, and another - he decides not to ask whose idea that was. He's pretty sure he knows anyway.

Past all that is some kind of leatherbound book. There's a silver clasp that he fiddles with for a moment before getting it open. A photo album? He hasn't seen one of these in years.

There's documents, here and there, and he didn't realise that people printed those out. Maintenance records. Combat accolades. One or two minor disciplinary actions. Looks like Lastimosa used to be a bit of a hell-raiser...

But most of the pages inside are pictures. A few of them are only of people, often Lastimosa and Briggs, but a good ninety percent of the contents are pictures of Lastimosa and BT. The date and location are written across the bottom of each one in Lastimosa's blocky all-caps print. Some have additional comments in a pen rather than a marker, most of them about something new BT learned or experienced.

He realises that he didn't have any pictures of Lastimosa until now, except the official ID in Lastimosa's file, attached to his own. Now he has - he's not sure, but from thumbing through the album, it looks like thirty or forty pages. Not just from the days Lastimosa was linked with BT, either, but his entire life with the militia.

"This is really special, BT," he says. "I- thank you. Really."

"You are welcome, Jack. Briggs obtained a second album that is empty, if you would like to create your own record."

"Hell yeah I do. And I know just what to start with." He disembarks and holds up the bow, giving BT his most winning smile. "Are you familiar with the human tradition of a birthday wish?"

BT looks from him to the bow to him again.

"Acceptable request."

The second picture in the new album is BT wearing the bow. The first is Jack alongside him, with a matching thumbs-up, and the biggest grin he remembers having in years.

#jack cooper #bt 7274 #request #ficlet

[a-dreamersjournal]

16th January 2023, 8:10 PM.

If I can rip my skin off of my bones, I would. If I can shatter, burn myself to ashes right here and now, I would. I don't like that my hands are shaking, that my breath is coming out all ragged, I can't feel my legs, my body, I can't do anything about it. Just take me home please. Somewhere where I'll finally know peace. Please. I'm so sick and tired of this game, this life. I can't, do this. I don't want to. This is so unfair, so unfair. Why, just why again. I'm so numb, I can't do anything about it. I need a safe place to fall, to finally... Let go. Of everything. Everyone. This feels so suffocating. So suffocating. I just want to breathe freely. Or stop breathing at all. I wish I was dead. I wish I took that final step few days ago, why am I being like this to Myself I have no idea. But that's exactly how I feel like. Anyone who loves me wouldn't want me to suffer. So just....i want this suffering to end. How much longer? How much. No. Why again. It's okay. It's okay. It's okay. It's okay. It has to be. Please let it all be okay. Who am I even pleading at this point, I don't know.

I want to destroy myself. I don't want to feel this misery and pain anymore. Just. Let it all be over please. I don't even have the courage to end it all myself. Please let me be free. Please. Let me go. Let me go. My legs my arms my mind my lungs my heart my soul every fucking part of me is so tired. They want to give up. I want to give up.

I want to shred myself into pieces. I want to leave. I want to go. Anywhere but here. It's hurting. Its hurting so much. I don't want to cry. I can't cry. I just can't. It feels so....painful. Excruciating pain. Endless. That's all I can feel. That's all I ever feel. This.. I just want-

I don't wanna lose myself again. I'm so so scared. I can't do this anymore and I'm so tired and so scared. So fucking scared. I don't wanna go back, I don't want to lose myself. I can't handle the same pain again. Please. Please I don't wanna lose myself. I don't. I can't do this anymore. I'm so scared, so scared. Shaking of my hand and numbness of my legs is scaring me. It is so... Terrifying. I am scared and in so much pain.

I want to draw blood. My blood. Just to feel that I'm alive. My voice is shaking so bad, the effort it takes to even get a word out is exhausting me so much, making my throat hurt. I feel so helpless.

It's hurting. I Cannot make it.

#prose #self h@rm #journal #dear diary #original writing #cw: gore #poetry #literature #spilled ink #spilled thoughts #Suicide letter #the tortured poets department #the tortured poets society #writers on tumblr #writersblr #writerscommunity #dark poetry

[tripthelightfandomtastic]

thinking abt cowboy danny, riding his while he’s wearing a big black cowboy hat, maybe he even has a bit of a southern accent. I NEED IT SO BAD ITS NOT EVEN FUNNY

OH GOD MY SOUTHERN HEART IS GOING TO BE RIPPED TO SHREDS LETS FUCKIN DO IT.

Living with your boyfriend on the road while on tour sounded like a lot of fun, and it is! But it's just the times you are in a place you don't know almost 3 times a week, makes you feel like a fish out of water. The way you've been homesick too as well doesn't help. You almost feel like a baby talking about your home state so much, but Danny and the boys are always interested to hear all about it. Sometimes the boys even tease you for your accent, you don't think it's very thick but being born and raised in the south, it's kinda hard not to. But the accents the boys put on just makes you laugh or roll your eyes from their playful ribbing.

It's not until after the few shows from your home state are over and you are off to the next state, the home sickness is really taking its toll. Sitting at some restaurant in some east coast town, picking at your food you can't help but wish you were back home. Surrounded by the familiar weather, delicious comfort food, and places you knew without having to use a GPS is all you need. Even just hearing a familiar accent would set your mind at ease.

Danny can see the look of despair on your features, silent amongst the ever present chatter of the Kiszka’s. "You okay?" He'd ask softly, not wanting to put all the focus of the table on you. "It's dumb." "Why would you say that?" "Because I miss home and if I do talk about it, I'm going to cry and I don't wanna cry." You mumble pushing the food around your plate. Danny only places a comforting hand on your back, slowly running up and down your back as you try to focus on the conversation at hand.

A few days go by and you finally get to spend the night off the bus and in a hotel, a room with a bed not attached to an engine and wheels, thank god. You ran down stairs to grab a few snacks from the little shop in the lobby, only to return to the room in almost complete darkness besides the lamp in the corner shining on Danny, classic country music playing softly in the background. Danny sits half naked in the armchair in the corner in sunglasses, jeans and a black cowboy hat some fan must've tossed on stage a few shows ago.

"Howdy, little lady." Danny smirks, tilting the brim of the hat to you. The display makes you grin wide, "What's all this?" You ask, setting down the goodies on the dresser. "Wanted to make you feel a little more at home." He smirks as he stands taking his sunglasses off as he makes his way over to you, he holds out your hand, Neon Moon plays in the background making you giggle. "You've always liked this song haven't you? You taught me to two step to this song." He smiles reminiscing on the wedding you two went to, the first time you and Danny had been to together. You take his hand gently, he pulls you close to him, "Mm I've always loved this song. You had two left feet then." You chuckle at the memory. Danny spins you, "That was a while ago, I ain't that bad of a dancer no more." "Okay Danny, darlin, I'm southern, not uneducated." You grin at his attempt. "And do not say it's the same thing or I will not so accidentally step on your foot." You smile making Danny chuckle. "I wouldn't dream of it."

The song fades out and is replaced by some old George Strait tune. "You really do know me, huh?" "Well you are my favorite cowgirl." He smiles, leaning in to kiss your lips. It's a sweet kiss, one that makes you sway to song, "But how 'bout them cowgirls," he sings along with the song holding you close to his warm chest, you smile against him. You kiss at his neck, "You really know how to make a girl feel loved." You smile.

"Because I love ya." He smirks before kissing you again. "Let me make you feel at home, pretty baby." He whispers against your lips, his accent adding a rasp to his voice making your heart flutter.

You kiss him back hard, your hands going to back and holding him closer to you, Danny leans down to you, "Jump." He whispers, you do as he says, letting Danny hold you around his waist. He walks over to the edge of the bed, sitting down to have you in hit lap. It's hot and heavy fast, his hands pulling off your shirt and your bra with ease. Your own hands work at his jeans, "Ya know, most cowboys don't wear their jeans this tight." "Well, my Wranglers were hanging out on the line so." He smiles charmingly against your lips as you lift yourself to get at the fastening of his pants.

Danny pulls down your shorts and underwear until it's just you two and Danny's cowboy hat. He goes to pull it off, "No no." You say in a hurry, a bit quicker than you anticipated. Danny freezes, "Keep it on." You whisper, fixing the hat on his curly head. "Save a horse, ride a cowboy type of thing?" "Yeah, that kinda thing." You say with a blush creeping into your cheeks.

Danny moves the both of you further on to the bed, his back against the wooden bedframe. His erection resting against his stomach, you lower yourself down on to him, slow and carefully until he's fully inside of you. You both groan at the feeling of the other and lean into him holding yourself up by his shoulders. "Come on cowgirl, show me how you ride." He teases with a deepness to his voice and a drawl that makes you clench around him. You begin to move against him, feeling him stretch you out, his hands on your hips helping you move, dull nails digging into your ass.

You moan as he brushes against your gspot as you grind down against him. "Fuck baby." You moan, eyes hooded in pleasure, Danny brings his hand down and runs his fingers over your clit. You can't help but move faster against him, his lips kissing at your chest as you bounce, groans and harsh breaths leaving his pretty pink lips.

Your legs begin shaking from riding him, Danny smirks as he pulls you closer to you, "So close. Come on baby, let me make you cum for me." He whispers in your ear before he begins to slam his hips up into you, his cock slamming deeper and harder inside of you, making you cry out his name and dig your nails into his shoulders.

It doesn't take much longer between Danny's fingers and his cock you are a moaning mess. You cum hard all over Danny's cock, clenching tight all around him, your face buried in the crook of his neck as he moans your name and cums only moments behind you.

You roll off of Danny, gasping for breath, your eyes hardly able to stay open. You let your head roll to the side, taking in the look of a fucked out, blush red and sweating Danny in a black felt cowboy hat. You can't help but smile and laugh to yourself, "Did mighty fine cowboy." You grin, mocking his bad fake accent. Danny chuckles before taking his hat off, placing it on your own head, "Looks better on you anyway." He whispers before running the back of his index finger over your cheek, "I can't wait to take you out dancing again." You smile, "Only if I get cowboy boots first." He teases, "Oh, that can be arranged."

#cant you tell im from the south lol #wild wednesday #fuck heres a whole fic #gvf #greta van fleet #josh kiszka #jake kiszka #danny wagner #sam kiszka #jake gvf #josh gvf #danny gvf #sam gvf #danny gvf smut #danny wagner smut #gvf smut #greta van fleet smut