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sunshinescribes · 6 months

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Between Your Name and A Prayer

Pairing: Dracule Mihawk x Fem!Reader

Rating: EXPLICIT (18+), MDNI!

Summary: There are few who can say they elude Dracule Mihawk, and even fewer who have held his heart. You’ve done both, and it only serves to complicate things when Mihawk seeks to collect your bounty…or so he tells himself.

Warnings: SMUT! Ex!Mihawk, Angst, Yearning, Fingering, Emotional Sex, Rough Sex (PinV), Reader is a little petty/bratty

Mihawk knows he shouldn’t be doing this. Not again.

He shouldn’t be slipping through a sleepy port town in search of you.

He tries to blame it on your wanted poster, a reminder that you continue to evade the world government—evade him, but the lie is hardly convincing.

Not when he had spent more time than necessary staring down at your new wanted poster, his sharp eyes following the curve of your playful smile and catching on to your eyes, as bewitching as he remembers, and with that familiar glint of mischief shining in them. The look you give is reminiscent of the one you used to grace him with, just before you stole a kiss, or persuaded him back to bed—what feels like a lifetime ago now.

Mihawk tries to shake the aching feeling that blossoms in his chest. Your bounty has gone up significantly. Vice Admirals hiss your name over snail responders; wonder why you haven’t been caught yet. Mihawk is quick to retort sharply that he isn’t at their beck and call, despite what the Admirals might think, and that they can send someone else to catch you, or better yet, find her yourself.

He knows they won’t. It’s as difficult for them to track you down as it is for him, maybe even more so. Besides, they have an…inkling of an idea of what you two once shared. Feelings once held that they think he can use to draw you from the shadows. If only they knew how wrong their assumptions were.

He may be a hunter of sorts, but you are no prey. Mihawk has come to realize that he only finds you when you let him. You leave little clues—hints dripping with nostalgia. You tease him, dare the world’s greatest swordsmen to come and find you, and he accepts the challenge every time with the eagerness of an undisciplined child.

He has only found you twice, and on both occasions, you looked far too pleased, not surprised in the slightest to see his dark figure slipping from the shadows. You had smiled and teased him in a way only you (and a certain red-haired pirate) would be brave enough to.

You finally showed up, Hawk Eye.

Mihawk despises the epithet from you—the distance it creates, but it’s necessary, isn’t it? It makes it easier to fall into a night of ravenous bliss without considering that you two once shared a home and your hearts.

Mihawk continues to shift through the lifeless town, the chilly midnight air working like a balm to his tortured soul, allowing him a moment of respite as his eyes flit between dimly lit shops. This venture started nearly a week ago with Mihawk idly flipping through the newspaper, curious to see what troubles were brewing in the Grand Line. Little caught his interest as he read, but when he turned to the last page, his eyes lingered on a single photo. An unexpected offering.

You, disguised well and hidden in a crowd, your face was obscured by the hat you wore, similar to the ones donned by those beside you. To anyone else, you were nothing more than another spectator, but the necklace that rested against your collar screamed your identity—the same one Mihawk had placed around your neck a year prior.

What fun you must have finding new ways to reel him in.

The first time Mihawk sought you out, he had been certain of catching you. His objective left him the second your warm eyes fell on him, and your mouth ventured where his body had missed you most. The second time, he had sworn he would not be tempted, but his will had shattered easily. Mihawk lost himself as he pressed you up against the wall of a cramped room in a seedy hostel, your nails digging into the flesh of his bare back while he took you apart as he had done so many times before.

What would he do this time? Mihawk had tried to reason that he would not be so weak-willed—so foolish as to let you reduce him to a man incapable of thinking beyond the flesh—but the certainty he once held was steadily slipping out of reach with each encounter.

A frustrated sigh escapes Mihawk’s parted lips as he stops in front of a shabby tavern. His eyes follow the curves of the poorly painted sign, faded and scuffed from lack of proper upkeep. It’s lifeless. No music pouring out the doors or cheery carols of drunken men. No heady scent of rum or grog. The tavern is completely devoid of life, save for the soft, flickering candlelight that paints the windows in a warm orange hue, and a single slippery patron Mihawk knows is inside.

He ignores the warring voices in his head as he pushes the door open, and there you are.

You sit perched on the counter, legs crossed, and head tilted slightly as you cradle a bottle in your hand. You hum a soft tune, your eyes downcast and far off in thought. Mihawk thinks perhaps your thoughts might be of him, because he recognizes the melody. It’s the same one he used to whisper against your skin in the dead of night, ushering you into a peaceful sleep—just as it had been used for him, back when he was young and hopeless in the arms of a tender-hearted nun.

Your hushed singing halts when the floorboard creaks under the weight of his boots. Your eyes lift, and the somber expression on your face is gone so fast that Mihawk thinks he might have imagined it.

An impish smile graces your features, and your eyes lower as you take in the sight of his lean body, shameless and hungry.

“And here I thought you’d stood me up.”

You’re always quick to crack a joke, dispelling some of the uncertain tension that always brews at the beginning. You want this to be as uncomplicated as possible.

And Mihawk realizes suddenly that he complies, says little beyond your name, and takes what you offer, lying to himself that it is enough—that he will hunger no more afterwards…but his appetite is endless, vicious in how much it craves something it can never have again.

Mihawk takes a step forward, and you uncross your legs instinctively, spreading them in a way that would make the nuns he grew up with faint. Ramera, they would whisper harshly, before slipping into prayer. They would surely have some choice words for him as well.

Your smile slips when he settles on the stool beside you, instead of between your parted legs.

You want this to be uncomplicated, and Mihawk can oblige, as he always does—he can steel his unruly heart and silence the voice that reminds him of better days, sweet and silent moments in a drab castle that seemed to burst with life with you in it. He can do all this, but why should he give you what you want right away?

You sigh disapprovingly, before taking a swig from your bottle.

“So, you’re here to collect my bounty, then?”

Your voice is flat and unamused. Mihawk can’t tell if it’s a display of false bravado or if you believe he wouldn’t be able to manage it.

“I haven’t decided,” he lies.

Of course he has. He always decides. Before he even sets off to find you—before the clues bare themselves before him—deep down, he knows he’ll never raise Yoru against you. Never bring you to the admirals who have hunted you for as long as he can remember. He can play the part of the heartless hunter, but he never truly fulfills the role.

Your sly smile returns. You lean towards him, positioned in a way that makes your collarless shirt dip, exposing the soft flesh of your breasts. Mihawk is quick to look away, but you’re just as perceptive as him. Your eyes catch everything, no matter how minuscule.

You reach for his hat, placing it on your own head.

“How can I convince you to spare me?” You ask sweetly, setting your drink aside.

Stop running away.

The words catch in Mihawk’s throat. He knows why you’re running, why you won’t come back to him, not even if he swallows his pride and asks. The moment the words pass his lips, you’ll pull away. Stop being a warlord, would be your quick reply, and it would spiral into the same argument that had created the impossible distance between you two.

Neither of you would let up. You both would tear open tender scars. It would complicate something already too fucking complicated—shatter the delicate peace you both allow in moments like this.

It will do no good to start a fight he can’t win.

Instead, Mihawk lifts from the stool, reaching to unsheathe Yoru. Your eyes go soft for the briefest of seconds when they fall on the decorated black sword—such a stark contrast to others who have seen him wield it. There’s always fear, sometimes envy, but never fondness. Then again, only you know his sword as intimately as he does.

“You don’t need to convince me,” Mihawk starts, leaning Yoru against the counter, far enough so that it doesn’t become a nuisance. “You only need to take what I give you.”

You raise a curious brow. You’re used to leading these little liaisons, quick to chase pleasure you’ve been deprived of, but this time Mihawk needs something different. He needs you to want just as badly as he does, to see you as helpless as you make him feel.

“And if it’s not enough?” You taunt, always so eager for a reaction.

Mihawk doesn’t humor you with a response. Instead, he positions himself between your spread legs. A myriad of images flash in his mind—delicious ways to break you apart that almost make him shudder in anticipation.

He notices your pert nipples through your collarless shirt, untended. Desire takes him hostage, makes his hands almost shake as he works quickly to unclasp the delicate buttons that keep your skin hidden from him.

“Someone’s excited.”

Mihawk rolls his eyes when you chuckle, low and lovely. You think you have him in the palm of your hand, and you’re not exactly wrong for believing so. Though you’ll learn soon enough how easily he can turn your smart remarks into desperate pleas.

You let out a shaky gasp when you feel Mihawk’s warm mouth kiss your collar, slowly trailing down while his rough hands cup your exposed breasts, kneading the soft flesh. He whispers your name against your skin—perhaps a warning or a promise—before he takes your sensitive nipple in his mouth. A pretty moan rips from your throat when he adds the soft pressure of his talented tongue.

You try not to picture Mihawk between your legs, lapping at your needy cunt with fervor. If the wetness between your thighs is anything to go off of, you’re doing a piss-poor job.

Mihawk breaks away from your tit, a string of saliva following him as he tends to the other. It’s a lovely sensation, but you want more.

You snake your hands downward, attempting to unbutton your pants and slip your fingers where you need them most, but Mihawk denies you. His hands catch your wrist the second you finish with the buttons. Your breast falls from his mouth, and he fixes back to his full height, peering down at you with those piercing eyes of his.

“Hard of hearing, are we?” Mihawk arches a sharp brow, ignoring the murderous expression you wear. He can feel the ghost of a smile playing on his lips. “What I give you. Nothing more. Nothing less.”

You glare up at him like a petulant child…such a shift from the confident, easy smile you displayed only minutes before.

Mihawk revels in it for a moment longer before choosing to be altruistic.

He leans close, his soft lips grazing your ear as he whispers, “If you want my fingers inside of you, you’ll take off those pants. Quickly.”

He practically purrs in your ear, his voice richer and deeper than you remember it being. You want so desperately to defy him. His words drip with arrogance that makes you want to bare your teeth at him, regain a modicum of control, but you also burn with such torturous lust—and maybe something sweeter.

You school your emotions, look as irritated as you can manage when you slide down from the counter, quickly pushing your pants down the length of your legs. Mihawk mirrors you, peeling his black coat off, before neatly placing it near Yoru.

Damn him and his stupid, perfect body.

You kick your pants to the side, tossing his hat along with it for added measure—just in case he thinks you’re happy to do as he says.

Your faux frustration dissipates the second you’re back on the counter, and Mihawk’s fingers glide across your cunt, coating his digits with your slick. You hear the words he doesn’t speak when he pushes a finger into your hungry hole—who’s excited now?

You shake, eagerly watching the way his finger disappears inside of you.

“Mihawk—”

He shushes you before adding another digit. You hiss—oh god—andhe pushes a little deeper, fucks you a little faster, desperately seeking that soft spot inside of you that makes you see stars.

Mihawk curls his fingers suddenly and knows he found it, because you make the most wrecked noise he thinks he’s ever heard.

Your lashes flutter, sharp curses spill from your plump lips, incoherent and crude. Magnificent…Mihawk muses, transfixed on your micro-expressions—the way your brows pinch together, the subtle tremble of your bottom lip after each pretty sound.

You clench around his fingers, teetering on the edge of your release. Mihawk’s free hand moves as if it has a mind of its own, finding your neglected clit.

Your fingers weave into his hair, pulling him closer. "Fuckfuckfuuuck," you practically cry into his shoulder. You shudder beneath him while a pool of pleasure builds in your core, so dangerously close to bursting.

“More,” you choke out.

The tortuous circles that he rubs against your aching clit are divine, but it isn’t enough. You want to feel full—fuller than his fingers alone can provide.

“Wanna c—hmmmng—c-come on your dick.”

You’re thankful you catch the plea that tries to crawl up your throat.

Mihawk swears under his breath, pulling his fingers out of your sopping pussy. His eyes are heavy, his expression is like that of a drunken man as he glances downward. He groans, watching the way you clench around nothing.

Mihawk doesn’t make you wait long. He’s quick to undo his dark trousers, works with speed even he might not know he possesses to free his aching cock—it’s so lovely, pale with the prettiest shade of pink dusting his thick head. Evidence of his own arousal pours from the slit, mixing with your own slick when he wraps his fingers around the base.

You watch him pump into his hand, getting his dick nice and wet for you. It’s such a beautiful sight, so fucking obscene. You can’t stop the desperate moan that pours from your lips. Can’t stop yourself from calling his name with a hint of urgency in your tone.

“Impatient—” Mihawk hisses, finally lining himself up with your entrance. He gives no warning as he buries himself in your soaking heat. You all but shriek as you feel the brush of his wet fingers against your clit again. “You have what you want. Now come.”

You try to hold out—you don't want him to think that he can make you shatter with a simple command, but your body betrays you. Pleasure rips through you before you can even consider a snide remark, making you cry out loud and cling to his lean frame. You shudder through your orgasm, curse between gasps, and Mihawk can’t look away—can’t stop the way his hips jerk reflexively when your walls flutter around him.

It feels so good, it almost makes him lose what little self-control he has left. Mihawk stills, grits his teeth painfully until his desire becomes just a little manageable. He won’t let this be another quick, meaningless fuck.

Mihawk lifts you with his dick still buried deep inside you. It almost takes you by surprise until you remember just how strong he is. He wields Yoru as effortlessly as one wields a dagger. He has taken down entire fleets with a single attack. Maneuvering from the bar counter to a booth is hardly work.

And you’re thankful for the change, feeling the cushion beneath you. It’s not the softest you've ever felt, but it’s certainly more comfortable than the damn counter.

Though it hardly matters, you don’t get much time to relish it once Mihawk cages you in with his powerful body.

“Missed me—” He thrusts into your heat, his pace downright brutal as his hips slam into yours. “Oh—OH, can’t you feel how much you missed me?”

God, you hate how right he is. Despise the way your cunt sucks him in and clings to his length. You feel the sweet spasms that wrack through you with each vicious thrust—how your walls pulse with a need to be filled in more ways than one.

It feels so fucking good—always does with him—and you’re past trying to deny it. Would you even believe yourself if you tried?

You blink up at him, watching the way Mihawk’s face contorts with pain and pleasure. How his long, dark lashes flutter. The way his delicate lips part and a sound that goes straight to your core escapes. He’s so beautiful—it almost drives you mad thinking about how effortless it is for him, as if he is something divine and otherworldly.

Is this the same way he sees you? When his eyes linger and he looks a little dazed?

His golden eyes lift suddenly, finding yours. Your breath catches at the expression you see hidden in their depths—the unguarded adoration. It’s so different from how he looks at anyone else—a gift only ever meant for you.

Mihawk slows the roll of his hips, moving his hand from where it’s positioned near your head. You can’t anticipate what he’s planning—can’t think beyond the tender look in his eyes.

And then you feel it.

The warmth of his palm as his fingers laces with yours.

The act is intimate, full of loving intent.

Your heart bursts as you blink up at him. Countless emotions flood through you—unceasing affection that you try to bury, the pain that still lingers, loneliness, frustration, desire—it’s overwhelming in its intensity, chases away the unrelenting conviction you’ve nurtured for months.

“Mihawk,” you call out desperately, “kiss me.”

Mihawk stills, eyes flickering from your eyes to your lips. He considers it for a moment, leans in ever so slightly before pulling away, cursing in his mother tongue.

He tries to focus on the feeling of you beneath him. Your warm skin, the rhythm of your erratic heart—but your request snags his like a twisted vine. It takes every ounce of defiance to deny you this.

Not unless you tell me you still love me.

Not unless you come back home.

“Mihaawk…”

You hate how your voice comes out in a low whine, but the need to feel his lips against yours is paramount. One final request to satisfy your heartsick soul.

“Too much.” His voice is tight, pained. “You want too much.”

His golden eyes find yours again. You expect his notorious glare, maybe even a sneer for good measure, but you receive neither. His eyes are soft…and a little sad, as if he wishes he could give you everything you desire, but to what end?

Hot, frustrated tears prick at the corners of your eyes. You try so hard to blink them away, but they fall without your permission, running down your cheeks all while Mihawk watches, his sharp brows lifting slightly in surprise.

“I hate you,” you whisper, but there’s no venom in your voice, no spite. “I hate you. I hate you. I hate yo—”

You taste his lips before you feel them—ripe plum from a silver chalice, salt from the sea.

Mihawk melds his mouth with yours, reminding you both of just how perfectly you always fit together. You melt into him, feel lightheaded when he pries your mouth open with his tongue, desperate and hungry, as if he’s trying to siphon the air from your lungs.

Your nails scrape against his scalp, tufts of his dark hair curl around your fingers, and Mihawk breaks.

He rocks his hips suddenly, harshly fucking into you with renewed fervor.

“I hate you,” you say again when he finally breaks away, a string of glistening saliva still connecting you two. The sight alone rips a breathy moan from his throat, and he nods.

“I know,” he dips down, pressing phantom kisses to your lips.

Mihawk knows what you really mean. What you won’t allow yourself to say aloud.

You still love him. You never stopped loving him.

He tries to show you how much he still loves you, pushes himself as deep as he possibly can. Mihawk nearly collapses from the way your velvety walls hug him—so tight and snug that it almost hurts. He knows he’s hitting something delightful inside of you—something that makes you convulse and sob beneath him.

“Please, please—” he hears your voiceless plea.

Mihawk groans, resting his forehead on yours as he pounds into you. He hits so deep that the head of his cock collides with a gummy cluster of nerves, and you tip over the edge with a sharp cry.

Mihawk captures your lips again, swallowing your moans. You tremble, fresh tears slipping from your eyes, while your second orgasm rips through you, so violent and demanding that it feels like it wants to take your soul along with it.

“My heart—” Mihawk grits as your walls massage his tortured cock, take him hostage until he’s pushing impossibly deep. “fuckI’m—"

Mihawk doesn’t finish his sentence—barely even starts it before he’s flooding you. He comes hard, pumping your sweet cunt full of his seed, filling it like it deserves. Your walls squeeze him, milking him for all he’s worth. It’s too fucking much. He shakes through it, euphoria splitting through his body until every ounce of strength is drained from him.

Mihawk collapses, as boneless as you, though he does his best to refrain from resting his full weight on you. He offers you sweet praise. A soft kiss on the corners of your lips, your cheeks, your chin.

“I love you,” Mihawk murmurs against your skin, so low you nearly miss it.

You’re too spent to react, though you’re uncertain of what you would do even if you could. You want the warmth of his touch, his kisses, and honeyed words. You want that fond look in his eyes and the tender care he offers only to you.

But are you willing to forgive? To forget how you two ended up here?

You ignore your mind’s inquiry. You allow yourself to crave, to fall deeper into this pleasant mirage as your eyes grow heavy.

When the sun rises, you will have to face this, but for now, you let yourself slip into a fantasy where you can love him without consequence.

PART 2

divider credit @/cafekitsune

#sunny.fic #dracule mihawk x reader #mihawk x reader #mihawk x you #dracule mihawk x y/n #mihawk x y/n #x reader

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rainswept · 29 days

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꩜ . . AND STILL IT IS UNSATED. ⎯⎯ laced through his limbs, stuck in his throat, sewn into his sinew — from the moment he was born, crying instinctual tears of crystalline befitting of his future, kakavasha has always known hunger.

⎯ cw. talks of starvation, death, gore. 1k words.

Aventurine has never met the feeling of a full stomach. He has always known hunger.

First, it was starvation — it met him before he could hear or see, raised him, held him gently before greed could steal him away. Back then, all he craved was a meal, water, the next time rain would fall — nothing more, just survival, based on instinct nestled deep in any child’s mind; he learned to live with the ache, and callow, he thought he would outgrow it. But then, as he grew, it grew, with him, more and more, and it felt like it would swallow him whole if he couldn’t swallow it first — and it grew, and it grew, and it grew—

Then his family was gone, and so was he, and with him went starvation, and chasing it off was not food, but guilt — guilt, eating holes into the lining and the flesh, and suddenly Aventurine envied Kakavasha, when all he wanted was food and water. When all he wanted was only barely out of reach. Now, shed of his childhood and dressed to the nines in perfectly tailored clothes that he’s still not used to — everything he craved was so far, he was afraid his skin and muscle would peel from his bones if he tried to reach for it.

“Tomorrow, we’ll try again,” and “maybe, tomorrow, we’ll get it” — tomorrow, tomorrow — “we’ll eat tomorrow, Kakavasha”, “it will rain tomorrow, Kakavasha” — back then, there was a tomorrow, because the hunger gnawed at the sides of his stomach but never ate through it — eventually he could manage to keep it at bay. But then it did, and it spread, and it squirmed beneath his skin, and it ate, and it ate, and it ate, and it ate him. The only food for the thing it became was his shattered soul, and it would continue to tear it apart limb from limb, swallow it down, sate itself on his famine, taunting.

Loser. Loser. Loser. Loser. Loser.

… And then the starvation was gone, but the hunger? It kept growing, cancerous, a tumor on his psyche. And he never did manage to climb from its maw, even now, even with a three course meal at his fingertips at all times — no, sometimes he is filled with fear and finds himself rationing his food, because somewhere within him it still lingers. He thinks it always will.

. . .

Loser.

. . .

There were two instances when Kakavasha was bathed in blood.

The first was on Sigonia IV. He held his sister tighter than he had anything else. The second was on a planet he doesn’t know of — all he remembers from it is the dark walls, the cold, the chains, the fighting.

Both times, everything was trying to kill him.

Both times, he was the last one standing. Because he is blessed, and he is lucky, and now he is afraid. And he will never shake that fear, and it will plague him like the hunger, and they will work together within him like he is unable to do with anyone else.

And when he tries to eat, he sees it, he tastes it. He was covered in it, head to toe, and it dripped in his mouth and nearly drowned him; the scent of iron in the air was so thick it seared his eyes and his nose and he choked on it — and, both times, he was trying desperately to save — first his family — he couldn’t do that — then himself.

Chosen one. Loser. Loser. Loser. Loser. Murderer.

Blood drowned the childlike light in his eyes and tears flushed it out, and they kept coming, over, and over, and over again. And when they were finally dried, they no longer gleamed the way they did when Sigonia IV’s sun hit them. They never would, because that sun was gone. And his sun was gone, too.

It was his instinct to cry, as is any child’s when they first breach the skin and meet the air — and he held onto it, desperate, because nothing else of his childhood was his to keep. Was this the gift of Gaiathra Triclops? A blessed child like him — Kakavasha — were his tears the rain?

Over and over, Kakavasha sobbed, until he couldn’t anymore, until his tears felt like crystals splitting his skull and skinning his cheeks on the way down, flesh careening like falling embers, like billowing fabric. He cried until it was no longer cathartic, instead painful and unneeded — until he was no longer a child of his mother — Kakavasha — but a pawn of Qlipoth — Aventurine.

Was this who he was, now? — Aventurine, Aventurine, he rolls the name over his tongue again and again until it feels like his — was this who he would always be?

(It never did feel like his. Then again, neither did Kakavasha.)

The blood. Loser. Winner. Murderer.

The entirety of his being and his body felt emptied, gutted, like he was never alive at all. Like he didn’t have a throat to swallow with, or a stomach to digest, or skin to cover his vulnerability; like it would all come tumbling out if he tried to eat now, just like the entrails of his kin, spilling forth and painting the sand in ropes before his wide eyes. Like his organs went along to be incinerated just like the rest of those that shared their make. Like he was a hollow shell masquerading as someone living. Like he’d begin to decompose as he walked and talked and tried to appear human still.

He didn’t deserve to be living. He didn’t deserve to be human.

Loser.

Eating wouldn’t fix that now.

Loser.

All the money in the world couldn’t buy a meal that would fix that now.

#rainswept #honkai star rail #honkai: star rail #aventurine #hsr aventurine #aventurine hsr #aventurine x reader #hsr

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m00nsbaby · 9 months

Text

Already over.

Main Steven Grant x F! reader. ( + Marc Spector x F! Reader)

Part 2. Sleepwalking.

Warnings & tags. ANGTS!! Cheating kinda but not really?, hurt, and all of thaaaat.

Word count. 3.4k

Summary.

We been talking for hours About how we shouldn't talk for hours on end. Kissing after a conversation About how we'd probably be better off as friends. Same time here next weekend Say, "We won't do this again" Make me fall where I stand Only like you can.

It had been a while since Steven and you had accepted your positions in Marc's life. Both of you were external parts of something larger, like small protrusions on a road that led nowhere.

You decided to understand it when you realized the burden Marc had to carry. Khonshu had taken hold of his psyche and shattered it as he pleased, although he was aware of his dissociative identity disorder, he had started to lose control a long time ago and this resulted in Steven finding out in the worst possible way. It was as if life itself had decided to break him in every possible way.

Hadn't he suffered enough already? Steven and you weren't going to take away the last thing he had.

The love of his life. Layla El-Faouly.

You envied her in different ways. Living a life of adventures with the man of your dreams sounded like something out of a book. She was a strong woman and the first in Marc's life, and therefore also in Steven's, but if there was something that broke your heart in half, it was knowing that she was happy with him.

It would be a lie to say that you weren't happy with Steven. He gave you all of himself and loved you in a way he never tried to hide. But for years now, you had been the one picking up the pieces of two broken people and putting them back together. And then, there was Layla, who didn't even know about the existence of her husband's alter ego, enjoying the best part.

The carefree part that stood above all the atrocities of daily life, simply having a nice date or the official title of his wife, with a ring and legal documents.

"Do you miss working at the museum?" Steven's fingers traced your waistline, occasionally pausing to press on the moles peeking beneath the fabric of your short shirt.

"You have no idea how much." You could never tell him how much you appreciated that he didn't lie to you. You knew he comforted Marc by telling him that life was perfect just the way it was.

You were face to face. You admired Steven's face in front of you.

Anyone would think that once the issue of his fake sleep disorder was cleared up, he would look less tired. Although there were still hundreds of nocturnal missions, and Khonshu destroyed the mercenary's body until an exhaustion beyond description, now Steven could sleep a few more hours, the ones where he used to force himself to read until the letters danced before him.

Nothing had changed at all. In fact, you could swear that the dark circles under his eyes were becoming more noticeable.

"I love you, Steven." You said suddenly, resting a hand on his cheek. His skin had always been so soft and delightfully warm.

You brought a smile to his face, the one that momentarily makes you forget that both of you feel that time is running out.

The one that makes you forget the slight resentment you have towards Marc.

"I love you…" He whispered before leaning forward, just enough to brush his lips against yours, a gentle touch as his hand rested on your waist, and his thumb traced circles on your bare skin.

He wasn't lying; Steven never lied.

You spent the rest of the afternoon kissing and chatting about what had happened during the week you couldn't see each other. You asked about Layla as you always did, he shrugged, and you wondered if he felt the same resentment towards her that you felt towards Marc.

"The idea of vegan hot wings is stupid," you laughed as you bit into the vegetable in your hand, the one that was trying to deceive you and pass for something else.

"The sauce tastes good!" Steven laughed with you, playfully pushing you with his shoulder. To hell with sitting face to face in restaurants; if your bodies weren't close enough, neither of you were comfortable.

"It's a fraud."

"It's delicious." Seeing you take another bite was enough to feel that he was right without you explicitly saying it.

"Do you want to come to my apartment later?" You sucked your thumb to clean the sauce from it. "Yesterday, I accidentally stumbled upon a garage sale and bought the dumbest movie I've ever seen, I got it for us. It's called Rubber, and it's about a homicidal car tire."

Under any other circumstances, Steven would have laughed with you, but he gave you that look that you already knew too well.

"I'm sorry, love." Suddenly, the fake wings didn't look so appetizing. "Marc is feeling better."

Ah. That.

That was the signal that he would be spending the night with Layla.

"That's fine." You nodded immediately, and you also felt disgusted with the food in your hand.

How much longer could you go on like this?

After a few seconds of silence, you cleared your throat. You had some time to come up with a change of conversation.

"What happened to your hand?" Your index finger touched Steven's injured knuckles.

"Marc didn't keep the suit on long enough; the larger wounds healed, but the rest didn't." He never lied, although this might be the exception. A minor injury to prevent a bigger one; he wouldn't ruin his life over a trivial matter.

You nodded slowly, planted a kiss on his shoulder, and continued with your attempt at a date, which was going perfectly until you remembered where you were standing.

The truth was that the night before, Steven had had a fight with Marc, one of those that hadn't happened since they threatened not to switch bodies back to each other.

"Are you two together, Steven?" He was about to explode, about to go crazy. This was the last thing he needed right now, adding more lies and involving more people. "I already told you, no!" Ever since you considered the possibility that Marc might find out, you had decided that if it was a panic situation, you would opt for the most efficient plan: Deny, deny, deny, deny. "Don't lie to me, not to me!" He never yelled; he was the calculating, quiet, and careful type, but even he had a breaking point, and if Steven was going to shout, then he would too. "Do you think I'm stupid, Steven?" It's funny because he hadn't had any doubts until a few weeks ago, so maybe he was a bit stupid, but he wouldn't say it out loud. "No, no, but…" "But?" "We're not together, Marc; she's my best friend." The second part was at least not a lie. He exhaled heavily and mentally thanked for being in front because dealing with anger, panic, and fear without having control over your body was a nightmare he had experienced before. Why did he ever buy so many mirrors? Marc's accusing gaze followed him around the apartment. "And you like her," Steven completed, another thing that wasn't a lie. "If I lose Layla because of you two, I swear I'll…" Adrenaline rushed through him; he lost control of his hand, which ended up against one of the mirrors, breaking it into a thousand pieces. "Marc!" The other didn't say anything, he watched from the reflection of some glass pieces as Steven's hand now bled, and tears filled his eyes. His body was used to large doses of pain, but emotionally, he wasn't used to seeing himself bleed or handling loud noises well. "We. Are. Not. Together." It was the last thing he said as he stretched his fingers and watched the blood flow between them. Marc was no longer in the reflection. He didn't want to object.

"Will I see you the day after tomorrow?" You could still see him tomorrow, but the idea of him coming to your place smelling of Layla's citrusy perfume always disgusted you. It was as if an extra day would be enough to erase any traces of her from his body.

"The day after tomorrow, without fail." Steven knew; he didn't question you. He placed a kiss on your forehead.

"I love you, Steven."

"I love you, sweetheart."

Receiving calls or visits at midnight was always terrifying, especially when you knew your partner was constantly at risk, and this time was no exception.

The strong knocks on the door woke you up, and knowing it could be no one else but him, you opened the door without hesitation. Clad only in Steven's shirt that barely covered your thighs, with messy hair and half-closed eyes because the hallway light bothered you in the darkness.

Marc's tearful eyes met yours, along with the strong aroma of whiskey that Steven had told you about before, the one that stung his nose.

"Are you okay?" It was the first thing you said as he analyzed you from head to toe. He hated you, hated that you looked so good in the middle of the night, and hated that he felt a sense of ownership just from seeing you in a shirt that was originally his.

He didn't answer, he walked straight into your apartment, and you could only step aside to let him pass.

The way he walked past the sofas to sit on the floor was frightening; you had spent time with Marc during bad moments, but you had never seen him like this. You didn't say anything, didn't press, you just walked behind him and sat down beside him on the cold floor.

Your mere presence was enough for his eyes to fill with tears again.

"I didn't know where to go," he whispered, breaking your heart into a thousand pieces with just a few words.

"Oh, Marc." You knelt beside him to have better access to his body, and within seconds, you had your arms wrapped around him, holding him close. "I'm here, calm down."

You didn't get more words from him for a while, just sobs and those annoying chest contractions you get when you try to breathe through crying. You could even feel the fabric of your shirt damp at the shoulder level from his tears.

"I'm scared." His voice was broken, trembling.

"I'm here." You repeated as you held him tighter.

He didn't have the strength to tell you. He was afraid of you. Afraid of the dreams where he saw himself with you, afraid of the way his heart raced the few times you crossed paths, afraid of losing Layla because of his feelings, and afraid of change.

He was terrified of the mere idea of his life changing completely again.

You played with his curls and stayed on your knees until they hurt, with him in your arms whimpering like a little kid.

"Let's go to bed, Marc." He didn't resist, and you led him by the hand.

Nor did he object when you helped him get rid of his clothes just so he could sleep a little better. He almost felt guilty about how comfortable he seemed to be in your bed.

You hugged him from behind, your two hands resting on his chest where you could feel the beating of his heart and the rise and fall of his breath. Your cheek enjoyed the warmth of his back.

When you woke up, there were no traces of Marc anymore.

"Meanwhile, Osiris' wife, Isis, searched tirelessly for his body and then…" The way you were looking at the ground while walking had caught Steven's attention for quite a while, but he didn't confirm his suspicions until he noticed you weren't participating in his narration as you always used to do. "Lovey?"

"Huh?"

"You seem distracted today."

"I'm sorry, I, it's just…" You cleared your throat while forcing a small smile on your face.

"Do you like it here?" He interrupted to finally point out an area in the park that seemed perfect for your plan. You immediately nodded with that fake smile, and both of you sat down carefully on the grass. You placed the book you had been carrying in one hand aside.

Steven handed you your ice cream and kept his own in the other hand.

"Can we talk?"

"Nothing good ever comes out of that, I've seen it in movies." Steven tried to joke, but hearing those words come out of your mouth made him sick to his stomach. Slowly, he rested his head on your lap.

Your hand, as if drawn by a magnet, went straight to his tousled curls. He closed his eyes and smiled; you had always compared that gesture to a puppy seeking more affection.

"We can't keep doing this to Marc, love." Your voice broke as you gave him those caresses he loved so much. "Nor to Layla, it's not fair to them."

Steven was looking at you again, with a terrified expression and a slight pout on his lips.

"And is it fair to us?" he snapped. Needless to say, both of you had long stopped paying attention to your sad ice creams; they were already melting into the grass.

"If Layla finds out, we'll ruin Marc's life." You tried to be the rational one between both of you, but with Steven's puppy eyes fixed on you, it was almost impossible to think clearly.

"And if we end… this, mine will be destroyed." Well, he had a point. "Please." His two hands went to your cheeks and pressed them gently, his forehead now resting against yours. "We can't. You can't." His lips claimed yours within seconds, and you could only respond as if life were slipping away.

Whom were you fooling? You were selfish enough to give in. After all, every night you created scenarios where Layla found out and left Marc, knowing that it would destroy him, but in your scenarios, you were there to comfort him, to prevent him from falling apart.

"I love you, Steven." You didn't get a response, but you didn't need to hear it; feeling the strength with which he held you was more than enough.

You were all he had, and he was all you had.

Life was better when you both pretended to have a life that wasn't yours. When you fantasized and made plans for a future you would both do anything to have.

"What do you think of that one?" You both looked like kids with your foreheads pressed against the glass that separated you from the kittens.

"They say the orange ones are crazy, lovey." The fact that Steven was just as interested as you in this fed your good mood entirely. "How about that one?"

"I like his or her fur." You pressed your index finger against the glass to try to get the attention of the kitty that was completely distracted playing with another.

"Love, love, love." He nudged you with his shoulder, making you laugh, so you looked at the opposite side, another part of the store.

You gasped.

"THAT ONE?" You had to cover your mouth when the tone of your voice caught the attention of other people in the place.

There was only one cat in the area reserved for senior cats. You knew it was harder for them to get adopted compared to the kittens, it was as if he was destined to be there.

"It's just a baby." You pouted slightly as you pulled Steven's hand, both walking straight towards the spot where the little cat was staring at you.

He was white, although half of his body was covered in black spots, reminiscent of a cow's fur. When you got closer, you noticed that the tip of one of his ears was missing.

Love at first sight.

"Hiya, mate." The guy next to you was as enchanted as you with the animal. "Uhm, what do you say?" He tilted his head towards the glass. The meow completed his performance. "Look how curious, he says he's looking for new parents."

You laughed, genuine happiness coursing through you. You didn't give Steven time to react before jumping into his arms; he lifted you a few inches off the ground in the middle of the hug.

You didn't care about drawing attention. In fact, having witnesses to your love made it feel more real, reminding you that it wasn't just a product of your imagination.

After he kissed your lips, you could feel the ground under your feet again. You couldn't stop smiling.

"Come on, let's fill out the form." Steven's heart was about to burst with love at any moment.

The instructions were clear: fill out the corresponding paperwork, a few days of socialization with the cat to make sure he felt comfortable with you, and by the following week, he would be yours.

"We'll come to see you, okay? And then we'll go home."

"See ya, buddy." Steven said his goodbye too. "Next week, you'll have the best home, the comfiest bed, and the best parents, I promise."

"What's wrong, Marc?" There was something scary about the idea of being alone with him without him being intoxicated or injured. You were taking off your scarf to leave it on a sofa while he watched you from his table, leaning against it with his arms crossed over his chest.

It was impossible to read his expression because Marc always seemed tense.

"She knows."

Your heart sank in seconds, and you looked at him in surprise.

"Ah?"

"She knows," he repeated. You swallowed hard, and for a moment, you thought this was one of those silly dreams that sometimes distorted your reality.

"Knows what?"

"Please, don't treat me like I'm stupid." His tone of voice was enough to make you tremble. You immediately looked at the bathroom mirror.

Steven had told you that while one had control of the body, the other could be reflected in different surfaces, but of course, that only worked between them. No matter how much you looked, hoping that Steven would appear to save you, it didn't happen.

You didn't even know if he was aware of what Marc was doing.

"I don't…" Your voice died down slowly, and you refused to get closer to him. "What does she know?"

"About you." He took a step closer, and you felt immobilized. "She thinks you're my lover, like any sane person, she knows nothing about Steven."

You swallowed the lump in your throat as tears filled your eyes.

"You have to tell her, Marc, explain to her she…" He interrupted you in seconds; the way he raised his voice made you flinch.

"'She will understand?' Is that what you want to say?" He was getting closer, and you felt like he was taking your breath away. Why were you suddenly so afraid? "Yes, I'll tell her every damn thing that's wrong with me so that you can be happy."

Ouch.

"I-I'm saying it for you, Marc." Tears were already streaming down your face, and you mentally cursed yourself for the mere idea of showing so much weakness. "She has to know, it's best for you." And it was, of course, but you were resorting to your last resort to not lose Steven too.

And maybe, not lose Marc either.

"You don't know what's best for me, you have no idea." His sarcasm cut deep as he took the last step to confront you.

"Please, please, don't do this." You pleaded through sobs; your hands ended up on his cheeks. "Please." You pulled him closer to you.

He seemed to relax under your touch, at least for a few seconds. Your heart stopped when one of his hands rested on your waist.

"Don't make this harder, you're killing me." He was also begging, even as his forehead pressed against yours.

"We can get through this, Marc." You sniffed. "I promise, we can…"

A kiss. A desperate and painful kiss silenced your words; it was the only one Marc and you would share.

"Go," he whispered against your lips, still planting small kisses on them. "Please, I beg you, go."

And that was the final nail to seal the coffin between you both.

His hand made you take a step back, a very gentle push.

"I'm choosing her." He knew you better than he'd like, knowing that you wouldn't stop insisting unless he caused you permanent harm. Besides, how could he convince himself he wasn't in love with you if he didn't do this?

You looked at him incredulously, not believing his act, but there was nothing else you could do.

This time, you begged that Steven was present to hear everything that had transpired between you both because you wouldn't have the strength to end it after this. In fact, you didn't even know if you'd have the strength to live without him.

You didn't say anything more, you didn't look back at him, and he didn't change his mind. You left his apartment, leaving your scarf on his sofa as a final reminder of your presence in his life.

sorry, i got tired of happy endings

Part 2. Sleepwalking.

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ttulipwritezz · 2 months

Text

King Of My Heart (Body And Soul)~ R. Lupin.

Chapter 2 - Expectations

Ootp! Remus Lupin x Sirius's sister!Reader

Synopsis: When James and Lily died, and your brother was sent to Azkaban, Remus was the only person you have left. Until he left too. What happens when he returns after the events of Sirius's escape, only to find out you have a son? A son that's his.

WC: 1.4k

Warnings: lots of italics, probably grammatical mistakes, might be ooc idk, child (?), fem reader, italics are flashbacks ( idk), love (ew), Sirius is back, [ look at series masterlist for all content warnings]

A/n: This is more of the backstory and how they came to be, along with lots of awkwardness from both ends, I promise there's more remus in the next chapter <3 oh and reunion with Sirius and thanks to @lixzey for making me wanna push the awkwardness~ :) If you enjoyed this please reblog and comment :)

Series Masterlist, Main Masterlist, Navigation

You and Remus were in love, you had been in love for 6 years.

Everyone knew you'd be endgame, and your brother hated it, to an extent.

Sirius loved that his little sister was happy, that she had joy in her life after the roughness of their family life. But he was scared, scared because he knew how much Remus would push people away, push himself away.

He didn’t want you hurt. But you were.

You found out in October, two weeks before Halloween.

You had been talking with Lily through letters back and forth, discussing your recent morning nausea and sickness.

She had asked when was the last time you and Remus had slept together, strange you considered that question, you replied a week ago at most.

Her letter came back with the words "you might be pregnant, dear...why don't you take this potion i sent along?"

And along with it there was a potion in a small vial with a piece of parchment guiding you through the process.

All you had to do was drink half of the potion and wait for the other half to shift hues.

And sure enough, the once rust coloured potion soon turned blue, signalling your current state.

You were carrying Remus's child, a child you hadn't talked about, a child you were sure you weren't ready for.

It was now hallows eve, the day you thought you had worked up the courage to tell Remus.

Children around town had just finished trick or treating and your husband was bringing back the basket with remaining candy.

He came into the bedroom with you and went straight to the shower, promising to return in a bit.

Your eyes heavy with sleep, you sit down on the edge of the bed, waiting for Remus to come out of the bathroom.

He sees them on your trousers before in your eyes, your tears. His brows furrowed in concern and pity as he looked at your face, eyes dull with sorrow and fear, so uncharacteristic of your usual glimmer and joy.

"What's the matter, dove?" He asks, voice slightly hoarse from the drowsiness in the back of his mind.

You don't answer, only look at him like you're out of words. You're thinking, thinking what a little Remus would look like, how they’d have the same nose, probably his same freckles dusting their face, and the same sandy locks of hair with deep roots.

You wonder if he'd want this, a kid, if this could be the one thing Remus would give up the world for.

"Come here, darling" he says and takes your body into his, nuzzling your face in the warmth of his polyester sweater. He understands, he always does.

That's how you sleep that night, unaware of the chaos that was soon to follow.

Remus rushed out of bed the moment the potter's deer patronus knocked on the window.

The white buck stopped at the foot of his bed and let out a call of help, soon disintegrating to mist after.

That night Remus lost three friends, you lost a brother to azkaban and you lost Remus.

He left the morning after. With your heart shattered to pieces, you let him go.

Your mind screamed at you to tell him. Tell him and maybe he'd stay. Tell him and maybe he'd reconsider. But your heart, ever the kind one, ever the selfless one, let him go. In hopes that one day you'd see him again.

Remus was half expecting you to slam the door in his face. To make a face of absolute disgust and just lock him out. But of course the other half of him was longing to hold you, see you after so long. So it came as a welcome surprise when you widened the door and let him inside.

"Uhm...come in, please, we were expecting you" You said, trying not to let your voice waver.

Remus felt so awkward. His hands were clammy, his posture was stiff and his jaw was clenched. He felt like he couldn't move, no more than if he had been hit with the petrificus curse.

You weren't in a much better predicament yourself. You could feel your eyes pricking with tears at the mere sight of him. The same man who left you. The man you let go. The man you still loved.

As he made his way inside the house you let your eyes roam across his figure. His hands were littered in large scars, far bigger than those you'd seen before. His face was shrunken, eyes hollower than you remembered. His smile lines were far more prominent now and his sandy brown hair had a few streaks of grey littered throughout.

"Where is the rest of the order? Where's sirius?" Why did you leave? Why are you back? How are you? You had so many questions but the rest were best kept to yourself.

"They're on the way, I was just...early" I wanted to see you.

Remus hated himself for leaving you. He wanted to tell you that. He regretted each night, even more so on full moons. After leaving the realisation of what he had done dawned on him, it was already too late.

Alas, by the time he had worked up the courage to talk, You were already making your way across the hall to embrace your brother who had just arrived.

When did he get there? How consumed in his thoughts was Remus?

You greeted Sirius with a hug and a look-over of his whole figure. His posture was shrunken, eyes even hollower than Remus's and instead of his signature smirk, only a ghost of a smile was left on his face.

A feeling of guilt consumed you. Your brother was back after azkaban. Innocent. And your mind was all consumed by Remus.

You ushered the rest of the order inside and told Regulus to pack up his things and clear out the living room. The confused and curious glances you got from everyone did little to ease your nerves.

Sirius pulled you aside. You prepared yourself for the conversation you knew was to follow.

“Who’s that?”

It was a valid question, Sirius was well aware that Remus had left that night. After their teary reunion, the werewolf had gotten an earful from the oldest Black. He was shocked and thought that you had found someone new, unlike Remus, Sirius was quick to notice the similarities between the small boy and you. He deduced that he was your son.

“Uhm- He’s my son.”

You were staring at your feet, and your hands were fidgety.

There was a long pause. The silence was so loud you could hear the clock ticking.

“I…I have a nephew?” His words came out uncertain. Cautious and slow.

With a hum you replied “His name is Regulus. Regulus Jace.” You left out the last name. Legally he was a lupin. And so were you. But it wasn’t that hard to conceal that at hogwarts.

At the mention of his little brother, Sirius seemed to grimace. But he put a smile on.

“You named him after Reggie?-” He asked. And continued as you opened your mouth to answer.

“Who’s..who’s the father?” He didn’t want to assume the worst. He was happy, truely he was. After that “bastard” (as he put it) left you it was only fair. No matter how much he ached to see the two of you together again.

“It is Remus.” You replied, vulnerability lacing your voice.

His face seemed to light up, eyes widening, both in shock and delight. Before he would alert the whole house, however, you let him know one more thing.

“He doesn’t know. Neither of them do. I haven’t told them.”

Your chest felt heavy, and your throat seemed to close up. It was hard for you to talk about. Despite being married you and Remus had never talked about kids, let alone with your friends. The feelings of contempt and guilt surrounded you.

Next thing you know, Sirius is pulling you in for a hug, securely wrapping his arms around you and trying to soothe your worries. His right hand wraps around your back as his left brushes against your hair in a calming manner.

It all comes crashing down. The weight of the lies, the guilt, the fear, the hatred. You cannot hold back the tears that rush down your face. A sob rakes though your body. You feel so much, everything, all at once, joy, relief, contempt, familiarity of an embrace.

But most of all...love. Love you haven’t felt in fourteen years.

Series Taglist (open): @twilightlover2007 @idli-dosa @lovesanimals0000 @deathbyramennoodle-s @deadgirlsrunning @lovelyypythoness General Taglist (open): @desikudisworld @iamgayforyourmom1510

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cherryredstars · 8 months

Text

Pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x gn!reader

Warnings: Fluff, References to Trauma/PTSD

Summary: Simon in a relationship!

A/N: Love this man, and I’m not sorry.

Word Count: 1.7K (Edited)

Ideally, Simon wouldn’t want to date someone with a military career like him. All he really wants is to have someone to come back home to, and that’s hard when the both of you might be deployed at different times. Plus, he doesn’t want anyone else to see the things he’s seen. He can barely take care of himself with all the PTSD he keeps with him, he doesn’t know how he would be able to care for someone else who’s struggling like him.

At the same time, he’s paranoid of strangers. You never know what they might be hiding, if they’re undercover spies of some sort or hitmen trying to kill the man that’s already dead. He knows everyone has secret intentions, everyone always wants something. Even if it isn’t malicious in nature.

I don’t think Simon would date an overly nice neighbor who wants to take care of him when he returns from missions. He’d be too suspicious of them and think they’re trying to poison him with the food they bring him. I think his partner would end up being someone he meets purely by accident or someone he sees constantly. Like a barista at the local coffee shop or a cashier at the grocery store he used to work at. If it’s by accident, it must be the most bizarre scenario ever, or else he’ll think it was set up. Like maybe you storm up to him, accusing him of something and he has no idea what you’re talking about, only to find out you're chewing out the wrong person.

Simon would take it slow, not promising you anything. But, he’d still ask you if you would like to hangout after he gets back from duty. When you agree, he thinks about it all the way to base, then pushes it out of his mind once he puts on his skull mask. There isn't any time for distractions if he wants to make sure that hangout happens. You guys would go on multiple dates before he asks you to go out with him. He finds the tiniest bit of tension falls off his shoulders when you say yes.

In the beginning of your relationship, Simon never had his back turned towards you. When you guys are together, he’s always facing you or trailing behind you. He never stood besides you and when you guys slept in the same bed, his chest was facing you with a slight space between the two of you. He never really let you touch his back or hug him for more than a second. This was because it, literally and figuratively, prevented you from stabbing him in the back. He went through a lot of shit before he met you, still has to deal with it when he gets deployed for duty, so it’s natural for him to be distrusting and cautious. Even towards someone he agreed to attach himself to.

The day you walked into a room and he didn’t instantly turn around confused you. You thought that maybe he didn’t hear you, so you kindly announce your presence. When you tell him that you’re there, he still doesn’t turn around and continues what he’s doing. All he responds with is, “I know.” You had blinked in confusion before the widest smile appeared on your face. You said nothing else and continued doing what you needed to in the kitchen, both of your backs turned to each other. That same night, Simon turned on his side in his sleep, his chest facing away from you for the first time.

Simon’s love language is physical touch, and he thinks it’s the cruelest joke ever because that’s the thing that scares him the most now. He’s scared to touch you. He’s scared his rough hands will tear up your skin like sandpaper. Scared that he’ll hold on to you too strongly and you will bruise and shatter under his touch. He’s scared that when he removes his hands from you, a bloody hand print will stain your skin, just like the blood of the thousands of people he’s killed stains his. He has to build up to it. Has to flex his hands to stop himself from constantly grabbing on to you. He keeps a small bottle of hand sanitizer in his pocket, and he uses it whenever he has that urge to touch you, like maybe it’ll protect you from him if he gives in. When he comes home from a mission, he washes his hands raw before he gets into bed and holds you.

When he finally touches you, it’s small touches. The brushing of knuckles as he passes you, a small grip on the back hem of your shirt to tell you to stop walking, linking your pinkies together on a busy street, him brushing a bit of hair out of your face when you talk to him. Fleeting things that never last long but causes his heart to soar hours afterwards and for you to smile the rest of the day. As the relationship progresses, they last longer and get more bolder. But they still have the same effect on the both of you.

His favorite receiving love language from his partners are acts of service. Likes when he goes to the cupboard, knowing he’s on his last tea bag, only to find a brand new box of tea next to the old one. Loves when he comes home from a mission to find his mug already on the counter and the kettle is on. Likes walking into the bedroom to find a set of clothing laid out on the bed for him. He appreciates that you already have dinner in the fridge for him to heat up, that you already took out the trash and washed the dishes so he doesn’t feel compelled to do them in his exhausted state.

His heart warms when he sees his spaces. Or the spaces that are meant to be filled with his things. Like they’ve been waiting for him, like you’ve been waiting for him. He likes walking through the door and seeing the empty space on the floor next to your sneakers, meant to hold Simon’s heavy duty boots. When he walks into the kitchen, he stares at his place at the table that is already set for him with a small smile. Likes the empty hangers in the closet where he’s supposed to hang his clothes back up once they’re washed. Finds warmth in the dusty spots on the bathroom shelves where his hygiene products were placed before he left. Likes walking towards the shared bed after his shower, finding you fast asleep and his side of the bed empty. He likes filling those spots with his things, it’s like time didn’t continue when he left. Like nothing has changed and he was only gone for a few hours instead of months. He loves when you wrap your arms around him, pushing yourself into his side in your sleep. Your arms are his favorite Simon space.

Despite the fact you do almost all the house chores, only because he's not home to do them himself, he refuses to let you touch his gear bag and clean the stuff in it. He’s scared all the bad things Ghost’s mask was present for would crawl out and hurt you. He tells you it’s fine, that he’ll wash the blood and dirt stained uniform, that he’ll put away everything in the bag. When he’s finished, he shoves the military bag to the back of his side of the closet, vanishing the skull mask from the light. It doesn’t belong there anyways.

Simon is hesitant to let the rest of the team meet you. The team and you are two different parts of his life, each of you get a side of him the other doesn’t. He’s scared of what will happen when they clash. When Ghost invades Simon’s life off of the field. You reassure him the whole time the both of you get ready to go to a bar the team wanted to have celebratory drinks at. Simon is still nervous, but he can’t help the small smile that grows around the rim of his glass as he watches his family interact as one. He smiles even more when none of the boys hesitate to protect you from handsy customers who want to try their shot with you. That’s good, he thinks. It’s good that you’ll have people to take care of you if he never makes it back home to you.

Of course, Simon gives you his dog tag. But, the dog tag Simon gives you is different. It’s slightly rusted, older. One that holds a past he has yet to share with you completely. This tag exists before Ghost and Task Force 141. It’s a tag from when Simon was in the SAS, before he was hurt and betrayed by the world as badly. When you ask him why he gave you this tag instead of his more updated tags, his answer echoes in your head: “Because that Simon is the one I am when I’m with you. That’s the Simon I want you to remember me as.” You never took off his dog tag afterwards.

When Simon stands at the front door in the early hours of the morning, dressed in tactical gear with his military bag at his side, you both stand and stare at each other. He lets you put on his skull mask, the only time he’ll ever let you touch it. In those quiet moments where you both wait for one of the team to pick him up, you ask him in a whisper to come home because you’ll be waiting for him. He doesn’t promise anything, only says that’s his plan.

You never need to ask him why he lets you put on the mask for him. The both of you already know the reason. You already know it’s Ghost’s gift to you. It’s Ghost giving you Simon to take care of. You know it's because Simon is the safest when he’s with you. You know because, every night before he has to leave again, Simon vows to go wherever you are when he thinks you’re asleep. When Ghost walks out the door and closes it behind him, you know it’s Ghost that will be returning home, not Simon. And that’s because Simon never left, he’s right there with you. Everywhere you go.

Simon content pre-write 2.

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley #ghost simon riley #cod ghost #ghost cod #cod headcanons #cod x reader #cod mwii #simon riley headcanons #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #ghost x reader #ghost mw2 #ghost headcanons #cod mw2

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gurugirl · 9 months

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A Good Boy | 3. Overheard

Summary: Leo's out of town and someone finds out about their secret.

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: 14,412

Warning: 18+ only, NSFW, smut, inappropriate & forbidden relationship, age gap, cheating, lying

A Good Boy Masterlist

Waking up was easy and slow. Soft morning light filtered in her window when she read the time on the clock at her bedside. 8:15 am. Quite early still but as she yawned and stretched she felt Harry’s chest rise and fall a little harder as he began to wake up.

Leo would already be gone. His flight was at 8 am.

She’d had the good fortune to wake up next to Harry a few times. It was dreamy and gentle. Sexy. Foolish.

She was naked in Harry’s arms as he cracked his eyes open, “Morning,” he smiled and inhaled contentedly.

“Mmm… morning,” she whispered back, adjusting her head so she could look up at him.

Everything around them was quiet. Quiet breaths, quiet shuffling under the sheets, quiet hallway and house.

“He’s gone?”

Y/n nodded, “Should be. His flight was at 8.”

Being tired would never deter Harry from wanting Y/n to do the dirtiest things to him. He wanted her to ruin him. In every way. He was already imagining what it would be like to be with her later in life. Wake up with her each and every morning. Have her for good. But those thoughts were what he wanted to avoid and why he had waited so long to have sex in the first place. Feeling too deeply too soon. He thought that with Y/n being married to his dad it would make it easier but that wasn’t the case. He couldn’t help it. He could see that she needed love and she needed intimacy. She needed him. And he’d give and give and give until she was done. Until she decided there was nothing else for him to offer her. Until his heart was swollen with all the love he had in the world for her and turned away to mend himself alone.

And he wouldn’t say he was in love with her but looking into her eyes and seeing the flecks in her irises and the way her expression held something that felt so tender and loving… well he could certainly see himself going down that rabbit hole with her. Falling in love and making a scene. It’d be messy and the fallout would shatter them. Depending on which way it went. She’d break it off and Harry would go into a deep depression and swear off love and turn bitter. Or Leo would find out and he’d divorce Y/n and cut Harry out of his life. And then she’d wind up resenting Harry and they’d break up anyway because the way they’d gone about it had been all wrong. The secrecy the lies…

“Are you okay, Harry?” Y/n’s calming voice brought him back to the moment. Her hand wandered over his pecs and her sweet eyes stayed on his. Searching. Worried.

“Just… imagining what it’ll be like when you get tired of me.”

She propped herself up to look down at him, “What do you mean? Why are you thinking about that?”

Harry sighed and sat up, pulling at her hands to make sure she didn’t get too far, “Because I can’t see how it could ever work in the long run,” he ran a hand through his hair and shook his head, “I know we never discussed what this was but you’re married. To my father. I understand this is meant to be just a no-strings thing but I just think I’ll end up hurt.”

Yes, Y/n had thought about that too but she hadn’t let herself get too deep into that line of thinking. She didn’t like to think of them parting ways. Not yet anyway.

“Does no good to think like that. We don’t know what the future holds. Right now, though, It’s me and you, Harry. And it’s really good.”

He nodded and looked down over her tummy and her hips, “Yeah.”

He shifted so he could bring himself down her body and pressed his face into her belly button, wrapping his arms around her tight and pushing her back down into the mattress. She didn’t want him to start thinking that way yet. Everything was still so new and so fresh between them.

Running her fingers into his curls she let her nails gently scrape at his scalp. He nuzzled in more, his nose pressing into her skin and his eyes squeezed closed, “I know we don’t know the future but I’m just preparing for the worst.” He spoke into her tummy and then kissed the spot just above her belly button.

“Harry… let’s try and just focus on what’s happening now. Okay? Don’t want you all sad and pouty when we’re meant to be having fun. You’re having fun, right?”

Harry lifted his face and placed his chin over her stomach as he looked up at her, “It’s fun. But I’m not cut out for a no-strings thing. I’m not gonna fare well I’m afraid.”

She didn’t want to hurt him. Ever. She had no plans to stop their little affair at that moment but perhaps she should start thinking about what the future would look like and what was best for him. With her hands still in his thick hair she sighed and then brushed her fingers over his temple, “What should we do then? How should we go about this? Should we call it off now before we get hurt? Before we’re in too deep?”

Harry sat up abruptly and shook his head as he leaned into the headboard and pulled her with him into his chest, “No. God no. I’d rather be hurt and left in the dust as long as I could have you for a little while. Don’t let me go yet. Please.”

Y/n smiled and tilted her head up to look into his eyes, “I’m not. I just want to do what is best. If we continue this then it’ll only get more intense and feelings are bound to grow. But if we quit while we’re ahead-”

“Please don’t. Don’t want to hear it. Pretend like I didn’t say anything, okay? Let’s talk about anything else. I’m just a softy,” he smiled and flattened his palm over her back.

“A softy? Doesn’t feel very soft,” she joked as she pressed her thigh down over his erection with a grin. Y/n was happy to change the subject. She knew they should probably talk about what they were doing at some point but Harry was clearly thinking of other things when she felt how stiff he was against her.

Harry laughed, “That’s never going to be soft around you. Can’t help it.”

“Means he likes me,” she spoke as she pulled herself closer to his mouth before kissing him softly.

“He likes you all right,” Harry chuckled against her lips and then sucked in a sharp breath when her hand wrapped around him.

“I like him too.” Her whispered words were cut off as Harry’s mouth moved against hers with more haste and he deeply inhaled a breath through his nose.

Everything was dizzy and moist and hot. Harry brought his hand down to her bottom and pressed her over him as she spread her thighs to straddle him and have him centered perfectly under her body. Their mouths never stopped moving together and their tongues pressed and licked in desperate need.

“Please,” Harry moaned into her mouth, “Ride me. Fuck yourself on me. Use me.”

Y/n kicked the last bit of sheet down and pressed her knees into the bed as she slid her pussy over his shaft, “Use you?” The slow roll of her hips up and down his cock had him moaning, “What if I want you to use me? Give your cock a nice hole to fuck and come inside…” She pressed her palms over his chest and wet his cock with her arousal, “Someone to come to when you need to get your dick wet. You’ll be a good boy and come to me for that, won’t you?”

Harry nodded and groaned, “Fuck. Only you, Y/n. You’re all I want.”

Their synchronized moans as she grasped his dick and pushed herself down over him sounded in her room. It felt so good being connected to him. Being with him and having his hands on her hips and his eyes on her eyes. It was wrong and it was illicit but how could something so delicious and so intimate be bad ever?

“Fuck. Harry…” She gently rocked herself down, pushing him deeper inside, “Why are you so sweet? Gonna make me fall for you aren’t you?” She knew shouldn’t have said that but the things said just prior laid the groundwork for those sorts of thoughts to surface. Good or bad.

Probably bad.

Unfortunately.

Y/n rocked her hips over Harry and leaned down to lick the inked swallows at his clavicle. The whine that she felt vibrate from his chest as he pressed his fingers into her bottom was heavenly. She loved making him whine and whimper for her. She’d never had a lover that was so into her, so into everything she did. Whimpering could be seen as weak or vulnerable but Harry wasn’t worried about any of that. He was pliable and unguarded with her, yet he was so sure of himself at the same time. She didn’t think she’d ever get over the way they fit together so well and how easily they fell into their roles in bed.

But of course, the icing on the cake was how good of a lover he was. She needed to guide him a little but his enthusiasm and excitement outweighed any lack of experience he had. And his cock was something to be worshipped as well. So long and thick and he got so hard for her. She’d been with six men, seven counting Harry. None of them got as stiff and rigid for her as he did. Perhaps it was his age. Maybe he was just gifted in that department (he was certainly gifted with a nice cock) but her pussy was thriving when he was inside of her. He hit all her spots and then some.

When Harry slid one hand from her bottom up to the back of her neck and pushed her mouth to his she moaned his name and cupped his face as she continued fucking him with her tits pressed to his chest.

He kept his hand at the back of her neck as he licked into her mouth and began fucking up into her slowly, his other hand groping her bottom hard. He felt like his heart would give out he was so enamored and delirious for her. The way her pussy stretched over him and encased him with her creamy arousal, her breath, her skin, her moans… he just wanted to make her happy. Wanted to see her come and smile and laugh and have her attention on him. Wanted to be the one that made her do all those things. The only one.

Soft gasps and breaths, and squelches of wetness, and the sound of lips and tongues moving together filled the room.

The day was just getting started and Harry already had her on his cock. He was drunk on arousal and her. Her. She was what made it so hot. He thought that even if she didn’t want to have sex all day he’d be okay with it. Just to be able to see her smile and be near her would be enough. But she liked having sex with him, which blew his mind. She liked him. And he really liked her.

“Damn, baby…” she whispered over his puffy lips, “your cock is so fucking thick and hard. Can you feel that?”

Harry groaned and nodded, her lips moving against his still as he responded, “I feel it. How you’re wrapped around me so tight. You feel so good.”

Everything felt good. The worry of their future and all the things that surrounded them floated away into the ether when they were joined. Mouths connected, hearts beating together, fingers unable to find enough skin to touch…

“Yess… Mmm… it’s so tight because you’re so big, baby. Need you…” she gasped at his harsh hold on her bottom, the pads of his fingers digging into her soft flesh as he moved her over his shaft.

It was slow and soft and wet. Keeping their mouths together, tongues pressed and slipping along ridges of tastebuds and smooth teeth, chests rising and falling together, lazy but meaningful rocking and bumping and sliding in search of their first orgasm of the day was met with increasingly loud moans, faster movements, sharp inhales, pinched skin, mattress springs bouncing until they were finally met with the forceful and blurry-acute moment of coming together. Mouths paused and wide with gasps and moans and release. Ears ringing and hearts pounding and nipples hard.

Y/n collapsed her full weight over Harry’s chest and he smiled as he caught his breath. It was the first time they’d both come at the same time. Like they were delicately linked and in tune.

Sex with Y/n was heart-piercing. Knifelike into his body. Like she’d carved out a bit of him and fed on it. He’d offer it all to her if he knew he’d survive after.

Their late morning was lazy and spent barely dressed as they ate fruit and yogurt and leftovers from the dinner the night before.

“Let’s skinny dip!” Y/n grinned as she pulled her t-shirt off over her head and tossed it on the floor. She hadn’t been wearing a bra (which Harry had already been painfully aware of) and was only left in her panties as she hurriedly dashed toward the back door to go outside to the pool.

Harry was caught off guard by her sudden playful behavior. He let out a loud laugh as he peeled his own t-shirt off and quickly followed behind her to the pool.

By the time he got outside, he caught an eyeful of Y/n’s nude figure jumping into the deep-end pool.

Looking around the yard he realized there was only one neighbor up the hill and far enough away that it would be unlikely they’d see anything. Unlikely. Not impossible. The yard was well. hidden with a tall privacy wall all around but being in the hills meant some houses were at different heights.

Harry motioned toward the home sat back and a handful of houses away, “Can’t they see right into the yard?” His dimpled grin gave away that he didn’t care all that much.

“Maybe. If they step out to that balcony and hone in on us right here. Don’t worry. I never see anyone in that house. I think it’s like a second home or something.”

Harry was already slipping his boxers off and kicking them aside before jumping in with Y/n.

And as was the norm when their clothes were off they were drawn together like magnets. Her arms were over his shoulders as Harry held her hips and pulled her in close so she had to wrap her legs around his middle. The weightlessness of the water allowed Harry to easily move with her through the water toward the edge of the pool as his hands moved down to her bottom.

“Have you ever had sex in a pool?” Harry asked with a brow raised.

“No, I haven’t.”

Harry wasn’t sure she’d want to. He’d heard that pool sex wasn’t all that it was cracked up to be. Pornos made it look so fun and easy but he understood the physics of it. Water, despite being wet, is not a great lubricant. For sex. And getting enough friction and pressure to make the motions necessary was even harder.

Harry squinted his eyes as he looked down at his lover. One side of his mouth quirked up as he pinched her bottom and she yelped.

“Hey!” She laughed and then removed her arms from his shoulders, quickly lowering them to his bottom, and returning the favor with a pinch that was twice as hard.

Harry guffawed and attempted to swat at her bottom but the momentum to get a good spanking in was hindered by the density of the water.

They laughed at the failed motion. Y/n held him tightly as he moved them so his back was at the wall of the pool and she brought her arms between their bodies and put her palms over his chest.

Their laughter began to die and she recognized the way he was looking at her. He was famished. But of course he was. He’d gone all these years without giving in to having sex and now that he was getting it he was addicted. It would be impossible for him to be overfed. He only wanted more as if he was malnourished. And the poor thing, who was she to deny him? A cock like that and a heart of gold.

“Wanna take my pool sex virginity?” Y/n chuckled through her smile.

“Mmm… yeah? Heard pool sex sucked.”

Y/n shrugged and tilted her neck to the side as she kept her gaze on his, “Wouldn’t know. Haven’t ever done it. Can’t know til we try.”

He couldn’t argue with that.

“And you’re already getting so hard for me. Might as well just give it a shot.” Y/n spoke softly as she swayed her hips against his, the water sloshing between their bodies.

Harry’s hands were cupping her bottom to hold her up. He squeezed her cheeks and licked his lips as he moved one hand inward, his long fingers reaching to find her labia and feeling the textural difference between the water and her arousal. He let out a puff of breath at how she was already wet and plunged his middle finger into her hole.

Y/n gripped his shoulder tight. Her eyes rounded and she gasped at the sudden intrusion.

“Yeah. Let’s give it a shot.” Harry spoke lowly as he brushed his lips over hers, “Just want to be good for you. Tell me what you want.”

She moaned and applied a sloppy kiss to his lips before parting to speak, “Finger me like that a little. Add another.”

Harry did as she said. Inserting his pointer and thrusting into her slowly, “Like that?”

“Yes. Yes, god,” she panted her words, “Such a good boy, Harry. Get me nice and opened up for you, baby.”

He clenched his jaw and closed his eyes. He loved it when she started to talk that way. He never realized he’d like being called a good boy. Or baby. It had never once occurred to him. But ever since the first time Y/n said it he couldn’t get it out of his head. He loved it. He loved everything she did and said. She scratched all of his itches. His heart and prick had been neglected for too long and she filled in all his spots and soothed all the crevices he didn’t even know existed.

With their mouths connected and Harry’s fingers stuffed deep inside Y/n’s cunt the water dripped and trickled with each movement. The sun was bright in the sky and the sound of passing cars could be heard. And even though the wall surrounding the yard was tall, they were not soundproof. Harry imagined, as Y/n panted and keened in response to his fingers, that if anyone were close enough they’d hear her.

He did his best to keep them steady under the water. Y/n’s tits were bobbing and wiggling from the force of his hand and the buoyancy of the water. Her thighs tightened around him as she leaned back slightly and smoothed her hand down his torso to his cock.

He was warm and swollen. Deliciously hard.

“Want this now,” she breathed as she cupped his tip. “Are you ready?”

Was he ready? He scoffed at the question. Was he ready? The answer was obvious. Harry was a healthy, 21-year-old man with a hard cock and a hot wet woman with her legs wrapped around him asking him if he was ready.

“Yes ma’am,” he answered politely, despite the impolite thoughts going through his mind.

Y/n reached over his shoulders and put her palms on the edge of the pool behind him to lift herself upward for him as he angled his hips toward hers.

Pulling her down over him was warm and satisfying. Still wet and tight but also weightless. The water changed their motions together.

Harry rolled his hips into her and pressed her down until he was in to the hilt. And once he began thrusting into her he realized quickly it was going to be quite the feat. Maybe impossible. But he gave it his all. Harry was nothing if not determined.

It felt good to have him inside of her but her clit would never get attention. Her hands were steadying herself at the edge of the pool and Harry needed both hands to move her up and down his shaft like he was.

The small waves they made broke in small splashes against the wall of the pool behind Harry’s back and between their bodies.

Suddenly Harry turned them so Y/n’s back was to the wall and pulled her legs tighter around him as he kept one arm around her and then brought a hand to slip between them, thumbing at her clit.

“You feel so perfect around me, Y/n. I can come like this but need you to come too. Tell me what you need,” he groaned his words with his cock deep inside of her, pressing into her slippery, tight walls.

“Keep rubbing me like that, Harry. Fuck…” She threw her head back and moaned.

Harry’s thrusts were uncoordinated. He wanted to fuck into her harder and deeper to give her what she needed but the water made it impossible. He was feeling incredible. His cock was being sucked in by her and she clamped down over him each time he rutted upward. He would easily come, as seemed to be the norm for him, but he needed her to come too.

He kissed her neck as he stroked her button and his head spun. He was way too close, knowing she wasn’t quite there yet he was doing his best to hold back. But it was difficult with the way she felt around him, her legs wrapped around his waist, the moans that fell from her mouth, the way the skin of her neck felt under his lips, their wet bodies moving together under the water…

“I’m gonna come. Want you to come, Y/n…” Harry whimpered against her neck.

“It’s okay. Come in me, baby.”

He did not want to come first. Not again.

Suddenly Harry was moving them toward the shallow end of the pool and gripping under her thighs tight as he slowly stepped out of the pool, ascending the steps to the patio and her back hit the sun chair as he hovered over her and drove himself back into her.

“Gonna make you come. Need you to come…” Harry whispered as he began to thrust harshly and she gasped. It was far better out of the pool. The friction, the momentum, the gravity.

Her mouth dropped open and she was rendered silent as he fucked into her with heavy thuds. She was jolted upward each time his hips met hers. The hot drag of his pelvis over her clit each time he rolled into her fed her orgasm little by little.

Harry had one foot planted on the ground and the other leg his knee was dug into the cushion of the chair giving him the perfect leverage to rail her deeply.

She grasped her thighs to hold her legs apart and out slightly bent at the knee, allowing him access to her cunt. Looking down between their bodies his abs were clenching on each plunge and his thick cock was drenched in her. Each time his hips slammed into hers she keened and stretched her neck.

“Need you to come, Y/n. Please. Please come for me…” Harry begged.

Lulling her head back into the cushion she planted her gaze on his and the look on his face was pure sex lined with desperation. His forehead was scrunched as he was holding back from coming too soon and it had her heart throbbing in her chest. This boy was going to ruin her in so many ways.

She tried speaking but her words came out in punches and huffs from his harsh rhythm, “Fuck! Yes… keep… doing that! Mmmm…”

That was a good sign, Harry figured. He bucked into her and squeezed his eyes closed to try and focus his mind on thoughts of school and cold pepperoni and Professor Matthews who had a huge mole on his neck. But her pussy felt phenomenal around him. He could feel her opening up for him on each plunge and the way he was fucking into her made her little moans come out in coughs and gasps.

He looked back down at her and her tits were bouncing from his punishing thrusts and her lips were wide open, revealing her pink tongue. The slick noises of his cock entering her repeatedly and the thud of skin all made everything so much hotter.

The spark that started off tiny the moment he began to fuck her out of the water grew and grew in her tummy. It unfurled and spread and suctioned onto her insides and her thighs and slipped up into her chest and she ached from how deep he reached until it popped and cracked and she was finally coming.

Harry could tell right away when her pussy began to spasm and clamp over him. He thrust and pressed in deep as he moaned her name and began to orgasm into her. He couldn’t hold it back another second when he felt her around him.

His cock pumped into her as his muscled thighs held him in as deep as possible.

Y/n gasped at how his cock throbbed and pushed into her guts, “Holy, shit!”

They laughed after they settled and Harry pulled out to a messy scene. His come dribbled out and onto the sun chair.

“It’s fine. We can remove the cushion covers and wash it,” she was still a little breathless and wobbly as she sat up and scooched to the side so Harry could lie down next to her and give his thighs a break from the intense workout they’d just endured.

Facing each other in silence on the lounge chair Y/n ran her fingers into his hair and he brushed his hands over her hips. She was feeling things she knew she shouldn’t. She pushed it down but knew those things would surface again eventually. It wasn’t good.

They were pulled from their sweet reverie when Y/n’s cell phone rang loudly.

She imagined it was Leo calling her like he said he would but when she lifted the phone up she noticed it was Marla instead, “Hello?

Y/n sat back down on the lounge chair right next to Harry and listened to her friend.

“I don’t think so. Not tonight, Marla. Plus Cyndee wasn’t feeling well–“

“We haven’t had girl’s night in weeks!” Marla interrupted, “Cyndee said she’s feeling just fine now. Come on. If you can’t go then there’s no reason for us to go. It’s gotta be all four of us.”

Y/n sighed as she turned and looked at Harry. He was still lying down with his eyes closed. Naked and handsome.

Girl’s night sounded fun but she didn’t want to leave him. Wanted to wrap him up in her arms and lay with him and get into deep conversations with him like they tended to do when they weren’t fucking. Wanted to talk about their hypothetical little vacation together. Wanted to talk about what they’d do together if they didn’t have to hide.

“You three can go. I’m just not up for it tonight. I’m sorry.”

Harry popped an eye open when he heard Y/n say that. He sat up and ran a hand through his hair and caught her eye as he whispered, “You can go if you want. It’s fine.”

She shook her head and frowned at him and mouthed the word NO.

Harry cocked his head and watched her as she continued to speak, “Next week. Okay? I promise.”

She watched Harry with a grin as he smirked at her and shook his head.

But then she sat up straight and her eyes widened, “Well, no but… I’m not ready. I just wanted to lay low tonight. No. Marla… please.” She let out a frustrated sigh and shook her head as she looked at Harry with concern on her face.

“Fuck. Fine. But just so you know Harry’s here right now. So, it’s not just us.”

Harry’s ears perked up again when he heard his name.

“What? No! I was just relaxing. God, Marla. Come on. You know better.”

Harry tilted his head and looked at her in question as she put her finger up to her mouth in warning, pressing the speaker button so he could hear, “I’m teasing but it is a little suspicious. You don’t want to go to girl’s night, Leo’s out of town and his gorgeous, adult son is with you right now. Just saying…”

“Stop. Come over but please don’t tease like that in front of him. He’s a nice boy. It’s not like that.”

Harry frowned as he looked down at Y/n. He wanted to be able to tell everyone what was going on. He wouldn’t but he wished he could.

When Y/n hung up she pulled at Harry’s hands and shifted to face him, “Girls are coming over. They’ll be here in an hour. I’m sorry. I wanted to just chill with you but…”

“It’s fine, Y/n. I won’t get in the way.”

Shaking her head she cupped his jaw, “Get in the way all you want. The girls like you. Won’t be able to kiss you in front of them or anything, but… no need to hide away in your room. We’ll probably swim and drink and they’ll crash here tonight. But just have fun with us.”

Harry’s smile widened and he pulled at her hips, “As long as I can sleep next to you I’ll be a happy camper.”

“Oh. You just want to sleep next to me? Nothing more?” She grinned.

“You know I would happily do anything you wanted, Y/n. But all I want is to be next to you. At the least. Is that okay?”

It was more than okay. They could sneak to bed together. His or hers. Didn’t matter.

When the girls arrived, all piled into Gina’s Volkswagon Y/n ran out to greet them. She’d cleaned up and gotten herself dressed while Harry finished up some homework.

Harry chugged a glass of water to calm himself before everyone came inside. He heard their voices before he saw them. Marla and Cyndee walked into the kitchen first, both greeting Harry like he was a little boy, “There he is! How are you so adorable?” Cyndee chirped as she leaned against the counter and grinned up at Harry.

He shrugged his shoulders and Y/n walked in with Gina, “Put your stuff away upstairs in whichever guest rooms you want ladies. I’ll put on some music and we can go out to the pool.”

When they’d all gone upstairs Y/n tugged at the t-shirt he’d pulled on before they arrived, “You all right?”

Harry nodded as he put his hands on her hips, “Yes. I’m fine. Guess we should change so we can swim. If you don’t mind me joining.”

“I want you to join. So do they. We’ll have fun.”

It was fun. There was wine and sparkling seltzers and sun and music. And Harry cut up watermelon and strawberries to share.

The girls made it clear how attractive they all found Harry and Cyndee did nothing to hide her sudden interest, “I didn’t realize he had tattoos all over like that. Does Leo have them too?”

Y/n snorted as she splashed her feet into the water. She had pulled herself out of the pool to sit at the edge as she watched Harry blush and try to ignore the way he was being ogled.

“Tattoos aren’t hereditary you know,” she teased, “but Leo does has a few. Not as many, though.” Y/n answered honestly.

“God. He’s so attractive. No wonder you didn’t want to leave him for Murphy’s.”

Y/n shoved at Cyndee, sending her floating backward into the water a bit. She drifted her way toward Harry as Gina sat down next to Y/n, putting her legs into the pool.

“Work has been fucked lately,” Gina spoke as she leaned in close to Y/n, “I hate my boss. If he pisses me off one more time I’m going…” Gina continued speaking as Y/n zoned out in favor of watching the way Cyndee flirted with Harry. Her hands in his hair and laughter falling from her chest loudly. Harry’s grin was shy as he looked up at Y/n quickly, almost as if to check in with her.

“Let’s dance! Come on, Harry! Show me your moves, baby!” Cyndee pulled at his arm and began walking toward the shallow end of the pool to bring him out. Harry followed and laughed as he shook his head. Cyndee led him to the tiled space around the pool and began to dance a little to the music. Harry’s appeared to be a bit embarrassed but he was a good sport as he lifted his arms and started to move to the rhythm at Cyndee’s urging.

“And then Tony went and told him that I got off early last Friday and I was like…” Gina continued speaking about work as Y/n nodded.

Cyndee reached up and put her hand over Harry’s pec and moved with him as she swung her hair around and laughed, “Like this,” she said as she pulled at his arm and placed his hand on her hip. Y/n sat up straight and cinched her brows together. She knew there was nothing to worry about but Cyndee was a big flirt. And she was hot. And Y/n didn’t enjoy the way Harry was looking down at her friend as he kept his hand at her hip.

Marla pulled herself out of the pool and sat on Y/n’s other side and began talking to Gina about her work. She was glad she didn't have to sit and listen and pay too much attention now that Marla was there.

The scene was pretty innocent at first. Cyndee was just having fun and Harry was getting into it slowly, though he continued to look over at Y/n occasionally.

When Cyndee lowered her hand down over the big butterfly tattoo she suddenly pulled him down and spoke something into his ear quietly. Harry’s eyes widened for a second and then he darted his gaze to Y/n before responding quietly to Cyndee.

Harry stood up to his full height to put distance between Cyndee’s mouth and his ear as they continued swaying. Cyndee turned to look at Y/n and grinned, “Of course, he’s got a girlfriend,” then she looked back up at Harry, putting her hand back over his chest, “But she’s not here now. Ever been with someone a little older?”

Y/n stood up quickly and walked toward them, feeling like she needed to intervene, “Leave him alone, Cyndee. He’s my stepson,” she gestured toward Harry and feigned composure.

“He knows I’m just teasing. Right, Harry?” She spoke as she looked at Harry.

He nodded and smiled as he looked at Y/n, but his eyes told her something more. He wasn’t going to call Cyndee out in front of everyone but she could see that Harry wanted to say more to her.

Y/n ordered pizza and salads as the sun went down and everyone sat on the lounge chairs near the pool. Harry shared the lounge chair with Y/n (the one they’d had sex on just hours earlier) and the music continued to play. Gina was still talking about her job and Marla was refilling her glass of wine as she plopped on the chair closest to the one Y/n and Harry were seated on. Cyndee was happily munching on pizza.

“Bet you eat pizza a lot don’t you, Harry?” Marla asked as she took a bite of her slice.

Harry nodded and laughed quietly, “Yeah I guess. Typical college food. I like nice meals, too, though. Some of my friends are pretty snobby.”

“I bet they are. All your friends are probably rich with Daddy’s money like you, huh?” Cyndee laughed as she spoke.

Harry’s smile fell from his face as he chewed his bite.

“Harry’s a very responsible young man. He’s never once acted like a spoiled brat just because his dad has money.” Y/n chimed in as she kept her eyes on Harry. She didn’t want anyone to think he was spoiled or rude. Harry had access to his dad’s money, but he was kind and genuine.

He smiled at Y/n as he swallowed his bite, “Mmm…” he looked at Cyndee, “Most of my friends are at school on scholarship or worked hard for what they have. So no. I wouldn’t say they’re rich with their parent’s money.”

Cyndee nodded and Y/n could tell that she regretted what she’d said. She was good at putting her foot in her mouth at times.

Harry reached out a hand and stopped short of touching Y/n’s knee with the tips of his fingers, “Can I talk to you? Just inside real quick.”

Y/n followed Harry into the back of the house and they entered the hallway next to the kitchen. Harry kept his voice down as he spoke and placed his hand on the wall next to Y/n’s shoulder, “I know she’s just flirting and being funny but she did mention that she saw how I was looking at you. I guess I wasn’t being careful but she brought it up twice. I just wanted you to know. I’m trying so hard to be good.” He licked his lips and used his free hand to pluck at the spandex of her bikini bottom at her hip, “It’s really hard.”

Y/n smoothed her hands up his chest and pulled him down to kiss. She’d been wanting to press her lips onto his for half of the night. Their hot little make-out session was cut short when Y/n begrudgingly peeled herself away from him, “I know. It’s hard for me too. Just be good until everyone’s in bed. Okay?” She cupped his jaw and grinned up at him.

Harry nudged his nose against hers, not wanting her to pull away just yet, feeling her breath against his skin, “Yes, ma’am.”

But everyone didn’t go to bed for what felt like way too long. Marla and Gina continued dancing and Cyndee urged Harry and Y/n into the pool as she uncorked another bottle of wine.

And when Cyndee’s bikini top was peeled off and tossed at Harry as she laughed and raised her arms overhead, “Come on, Y/n! Let’s see those perfect tits! I just know Harry’s dying to see them!”

Of course, at that moment Gina and Marla stopped dancing to gawk at the scene. Y/n felt herself flush and Harry began to back away toward the edge of the pool to put distance between him and the tipsy topless woman.

“No, Cyndee. He’s not dying to see me. Just…” she sighed as she bounced in the water toward Cyndee’s bikini top to hand it back, “put it back on. I don’t need him telling Leo about his stepmom’s horny friends.”

Normally Cyndee’s antics wouldn’t have Y/n so bothered. But when it directly involved Harry in this way she couldn’t let it continue. She felt she had a duty to protect him in some way.

“Fiiine!” Cyndee spoke loudly. Everyone could see she was a bit drunk, “Sorry, Harry. Just a horny friend here. But you want to see Y/n’s tits. I can tell. She’s hot, isn’t she? Body like that.”

“Stop it, Cyndee!” Y/n spoke clearly, “I think it’s time for us to go inside.”

When the music was shut off and everyone was wrapped in towels inside (and Cyndee’s top was back on) Y/n brought out a pitcher of water for everyone to drink and packed the leftover pizza away into the fridge.

“Cyndee is really having a time teasing Harry isn’t she?” Gina spoke as they walked from the kitchen to the living room.

Y/n nodded, “She’s a little drunk. I know she’s just having fun.”

Gina grasped Y/n’s elbow to stop her movements, “But she’s not wrong about the way Harry’s looking at you. Be careful. I know nothing would ever happen but that boy’s got puppy dog eyes that are following you around any time you make a move. Even now. Look.”

Y/n looked from Gina into the living room where Harry was seated in the corner and his eyes were already on hers. He was shit at hiding his feelings. This was going to be a lot harder to keep secret than they originally thought.

“Uh… water?” Y/n spoke as she pulled herself from Gina’s grip. She wasn’t even going to address what was said. It was best to pretend she hadn’t heard it, “I’ve got juice too if you want.” She placed the pitcher down on the coffee table and smiled innocently at everyone.

But she was far from innocent. She was a terrible person who’d taken her stepson’s virginity and had him in her bed all morning with his cock inside of her cunt. She was far from innocent when she couldn’t stop imagining what she was going to do to him the moment the door was closed and locked and her friends were in their prospective rooms for the night. Far from innocent when her stepson was the only person she wanted to share her bed with.

Her tummy swirled with arousal just looking at him. And every time their eyes met it was as if they were having an entire conversation in silence amongst her friends. His longing looks, almost as if to say please, and her heated gaze that dined on his want on his sweetness.

“So Harry. This girlfriend... What’s she doing tonight? Why aren’t you hanging out with her? When I was your age I never wanted to be away from my boyfriend.” Marla pried.

Harry looked at Y/n softly and all he could think to himself was that she was his girlfriend, even though she wasn’t and never would be. He turned his head and looked to Marla, “Uh… she was busy. So I came here to just chill. Swim a bit.” He shrugged as he sipped his water.

“And check out hot stepmom,” Cyndee laughed and then slapped her palm over her mouth, “Sorry. Sorry.”

Y/n sighed and rolled her eyes, “You should be sorry. You’re embarrassing him.”

Harry laughed and shook his head, “Nah. It’s fine. I’m not embarrassed. I know she’s just joking.”

But she wasn’t joking. Cyndee had seen Harry watching Y/n. Had seen how he would follow her every move. Would pay close attention as she spoke and how he barely even glanced at any of the other ladies. And they were all pretty, especially dawning bikinis. Especially with the way Cyndee had been flirting with him. Harry hardly responded to her teases, though. Instead, he kept finding Y/n and looking at her for permission or to check-in. Kind of like what lovers do when they’re in a crowded room talking to other people and glancing at one another knowingly. But what really had Cyndee thinking there was more there was when she watched Harry put his hand on the back of Y/n’s thigh when no one was paying attention and the way that Y/n casually turned and looked up at him as if the touch had been welcomed. As if he'd touched her in that way before. It wasn’t much. It might have been nothing. But Cyndee was observant. Annoying sure. Tipsy definitely. But certainly observant.

When the ladies had tucked themselves away in their rooms and Y/n had brushed her teeth and pulled on her tank top and night shorts she shut her bedroom door behind her before quietly making her way to Harry’s room.

One knock on the door signaled her arrival and Harry opened up and pulled her inside with a broad grin and adorable dimples.

They acted as if they hadn’t seen one another in weeks, yet they’d been together all day. The newness and excitement of everything had them desperate for more and more and more.

And it was dangerous and wrong. Risky. There were three other nosy women in the house and here Y/n was urging Harry to stick his cock deeper down her throat as she gagged and coughed.

“Sorry! You okay?” Harry spoke breathlessly, pulling her off of him. He was spread out on his bed with his stepmom between his legs and strings of saliva dripping from her lips with watery eyes.

She smiled fondly and nodded, “So good. Love giving you blow jobs, Harry,” she said as she wrapped her palm around his thick shaft and slid it up and down, “Your cock fits so good in my throat.”

Harry breathed out a laugh and shook his head, “You’re straight out of a porno, Y/n. But even better cause you’re actually pretty.”

When he sat up and pulled her by her ankles and tore her shorts down her legs she gasped at the quick position change as he put his mouth over her cunt. She had to keep it down because she knew someone might hear.

Her slick center was licked and kissed on until her moans became too loud to keep down. She sat up and pushed at Harry’s forehead as she panted her words, “We can’t. I’m too loud.”

Harry pouted as he shifted and sat up. His cock was still hard and leaking as he hadn’t come yet. Neither of them had. They were both on edge. Dripping, aching, throbbing.

“What do you mean?”

Y/n grinned and lifted her hand to his face, “So sweet. Don’t worry. We can still come. Just… I’m too loud if my mouth isn’t covered. You’re much better at keeping the volume down than I am. Gonna lay flat on my tummy and have you push my face into the blankets to keep me quiet. And then we can both get what we want.”

Harry blinked and cinched his brows together, “I don’t want to hurt you, though. That doesn’t sound comfortable.”

“You won’t hurt me. Just want you to fuck me into the mattress so we can both come. If you prefer you can just put your hand over my mouth when I start getting too loud instead.”

Harry grinned and let his palms travel from her hips up to her soft breasts and leaned in to kiss her nipples. The kiss turned into him pulling at her buds and nipping the slightest before sucking them into his mouth.

She moaned softly and put her hands into his hair. He had been giving her tits a lot of attention. She loved it.

They both shifted on the bed as Harry dug his face in closer and looked up at her with her nipple in his mouth. Lewd.

“Oooh, baby. That’s enough for now. I’m aching for you.” She whispered as Harry sat up and replaced his mouth with his hands at her breasts, “Now, be a good boy and fuck me into the mattress like I told you to.”

Harry’s smirk was mischievous as he gripped her hips and flipped her to her tummy. A squeal fell from her lips as she bounced over his comforter and laughed.

“Yes ma’am. I’ll get right to it.” He spoke into her ear as he positioned himself over her.

First, she felt his hands on her bottom, spreading her for his access, and then she felt his warm cock fitting through her folds before he nudged his smooth, swollen mushroom tip into her cunt slowly.

She gasped and turned her face into his blankets and reached back so she could pull at her cheeks for him.

Harry’s thighs were spread, caging her in as her own thighs were pushed together between his. It was tight and he had to work himself in with a bit of force to bottom out. But once he got going the bed was bouncing from his effortful momentum.

He did his best to keep quiet. He panted and let out small groans as Y/n moaned and cooed into the bed with muffled restraint.

“Fuck, m’gonna come!” Harry stopped driving into her, stilling his hips for a moment as Y/n let go of one side of her bottom and brought her hand underneath herself to finger her wet clit.

She turned her head and spoke in a whisper, “Come inside of me, baby. I’m gonna come too. I’m right there. Cover my mouth.”

Harry leaned over her and gently placed his big palm over her lips with his thumb cradling her cheekbone. She was already shaking and her hips were stuttering as she rubbed her clit with perfect pressure. The shift in position with Harry leaning over her stuffed him deeper yet and she felt his cock poking through her walls, pushing her apart from the insides.

Harry groaned when he felt her tighten around him and he gasped as his own orgasm began to pour out of him. Suddenly he was crashing his hips into hers with a punishing methodic thud and his bed creaked and bounced under them. Harry bit his lip to keep quiet but the sound of wet skin smacking and sticking and deep breaths and palm-muffled screeches from Y/n was anything but quiet in the sleepy, silent house.

But at least they both got to come.

When the bed stilled and their breaths calmed he finally pulled himself out of her and grasped her bottom to watch his warm sperm slowly ooze from her cunt. Shiny and slippery and scandalous. And that was just part of the fun of it all. The scandal. The secrecy.

He kissed her bottom and then licked upward from her weepy hole to her anus and she laughed, “You’re so debauched Harry,” she whispered as they both slowly got up to use his bathroom and clean themselves before finally wrapping themselves up in one another falling asleep.

When Y/n woke up just as the sun began to peek over the horizon she kissed Harry’s jaw and whispered, “I have to go back to my bed, Harry.” She let her hand drag over his chest as he slowly stirred and adjusted his head into the pillow so he could see her.

“Mmm… Don’t leave yet. Stay just a little longer. Please?” He lazily wrapped his arms around her and sighed, “Need you.”

Y/n pressed her face into his neck and felt his warmth take over her insides. She had been so long without those butterflies, that feeling of being wanted, that feeling of wanting. She didn’t want to leave his bed. Leave his arms. But Marla was an early riser and Cyndee and Gina had been on to them. She couldn’t risk it.

“Harry…” she spoke softly and pressed her lips to his neck, “I have to. They’ll be leaving together in a few hours and we’ll have the whole day together. Just you and me. I promise.”

He reluctantly loosened his arms as she slid out of his bed and tiptoed her way back to her room.

But as she turned the corner toward her room she realized her bedroom door was open. Stopping short she looked down over her body. She was wearing night shorts and a tank top with no bra. Bare feet. Everything appeared normal but the problem was she hadn’t been in her room all night and if her door was open that meant that either someone was in there or someone had been in there and noticed her absence.

Peeking around the door frame she jumped back when she realized Marla was there. Lying on her bed. Marla looked to be asleep but she couldn’t be sure. She stepped back and leaned into the wall next to the door and took a deep breath. Perhaps she could just go downstairs and say she’d slept on the couch. Yes. That’s what she’d do. Quickly moving past the doorway so she wouldn’t get spotted she heard Marla call her name.

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck!

“Y/n. I know you heard me. Come here please.” It sounded like the voice of her mother about to scold her.

Closing her eyes, she stepped backward and into the doorway. She’d been caught. Maybe. Probably. Certainly.

“Come sit down,” Marla patted the bed as Y/n opened her eyes and looked at her best friend in shame. Regret. “Sit, please. I’m not going to say anything to anyone. You know I won’t. I just think we should talk.”

Closing the door before padding her way slowly across the room toward Marla she felt like she was about to explode with embarrassment. Shame. She knew that look on Marla’s face. It was like pity but soaked with love and understanding. Marla was her best friend for a reason after all.

“I don’t know what to say,” she sat down and looked at her fingers as she began, “But… yeah I don’t know.”

Marla took Y/n’s hand, “You and Harry, then. How did that happen?”

Looking at her friend she shrugged and shook her head, “I don’t know. We both found each other attractive and… I don’t know. It just happened.”

Nodding, Marla spoke quietly, “And you’re lonely. I’ve seen that for a while. But… Harry?”

“Yeah, I know. It’s bad. I resisted. I turned him down and then he got drunk— you know that night at his birthday party, and he came to my room. It’s a long story but the following morning Leo was gone and it was just me and Harry and it felt good to be with him. Felt really good. He’s… I like him a lot. And it’s such a bad idea. I know.”

“Yes. It’s a bad idea. I mean, it’s just something for fun, right?” Marla squeezed her hand, “I know you’re allowed to sleep with other people but this? If Leo found out he’d flip out. Yeah?”

Y/n nodded and looked down at her lap, “He would divorce me I’m sure. It would be terrible. And poor Harry too,” she glanced at Marla and squished her brows together, “How did… how did you know? You just assumed because I wasn’t in here?”

Marla huffed a small breath from her nose and shook her head, “I heard. Thought he was listening to porn quietly at first and… I’m so fucking nosy, I’m sorry for that, but I couldn’t help myself when I walked to his door and listened closer. I knew what was going on in there wasn’t just porn playing on a laptop. So I went to your room,” Marla paused and looked at Y/n with sorrowful eyes, “I had a feeling it was you in there. I just… had this… gut feeling. I didn’t think he'd go for Cyndee and Gina’s, well Gina, so I knew it wasn’t her.”

The realization was sobering. Her best friend knew it was her before she even really knew. Was it a character flaw? How had she been so careless, “You knew? But why?”

“Because I see things, Y/n. You danced with him on our last girl’s night and that was not the kind of dancing a stepmom and a stepson do together. How long has this been going on anyway?”

Y/n nodded, “Like I said. The night of his birthday party was kind of when it started. Well, the morning after technically. The night at the bar was when I started to look at him differently. He kissed me in my room the day of his party and I rejected him but then… anyway,” she sighed and let go of Marla’s hand to put her face in her palms. It was a disaster.

Her best friend’s hand rubbed up and down her back, “Look. I’m here for you. I’m not gonna say anything to anyone but you can talk to me. I’ll tell you the honest truth but I’m not going to rat you out or hate you for this.”

It felt good to say something to someone. Though she hadn’t intended on anyone ever learning of her secret, she’d been too careless with three perceptive women in the house. Women were far more observant and cunning than men. Leo would probably never think to notice anything between Harry and Y/n. She hoped.

And what was meant to be a very easy affair to hide was suddenly an affair that a third person knew about. Y/n trusted Marla completely but now she needed to tell Harry that she knew too. And if Y/n had someone to confide in and talk to she knew Harry would probably want one too. That was only fair. But that was dangerous. Letting more people in on their little secret.

When the girls left a couple of hours after Marla confronted Y/n, Harry was sitting at the kitchen island with a mug of coffee looking at his laptop. He’d noticed the way Marla was acting. He picked up on something but he wasn’t sure what it was.

“Everything okay with them?” He asked as Y/n sat next to him with her own mug of coffee.

“What do you mean?”

Harry shrugged, “Marla was… extra… I don’t know. Just something seemed a little different about how she treated me.”

Y/n nodded and took a breath as she blinked her eyes and looked into her porcelain mug, “She knows.”

Harry’s body language suddenly tightened as he turned his neck abruptly and grasped Y/n’s knee, “What? What do you mean? Did you tell her?”

Looking up at the handsome boy she shook her head and put her hand over his, “She heard us, Harry. We weren’t careful and she overheard and went to my room and… well so she asked me this morning and how could I lie about it? I’m sorry.”

Harry wasn’t sorry. He was of two minds about the affair. The part at the forefront was that he wanted to keep everything on the down low so he could continue being with Y/n for as long as possible. But the other part, that was nearly beginning to flank the one at the forefront, was that if people did find out then slowly and eventually his dad would, and then he’d divorce Y/n and Harry would be there for her and they could finally be together happily and openly. He knew in the second scenario that it wouldn’t be that simple but at least in the end of that fantasy he got to have her. So was it so bad that someone knew? Harry didn’t think it was.

Harry pulled at her hand and linked his fingers between hers as he looked at her and spoke, “Don’t be sorry. We can trust Marla. Right? And besides it probably is good to have someone to tell.”

Y/n nodded, “Yeah. I guess. And I’d understand if you wanted to confide in someone other than me. That’s what’s fair.”

Nodding his head he lifted her knuckles to his soft lips and kissed each one, keeping his fingers weaved in between hers, “We’ll see. Are you okay?”

She appreciated how thoughtful he was. How sweet.

“I’m okay. It was just a shock when she confronted me. I think we’re okay. But we just have to be really careful. Like… if someone’s in the house at all we can’t —”

“That’s fine. I’m okay with that. We’ll be careful,” Harry assured her as he grinned and released her hand, pulling at her hips to spin her on the stool to face him, “We’re fine.”

Y/n wasn’t sure how he did it. How he could make her feel so secure and content. She found it wild that she found comfort in the arms of a 21-year-old man. A college boy. But he was convincing and confident and that bled out onto her own psyche. She nodded and smiled, “We’re fine.”

They made breakfast together in the kitchen. It wasn’t anything elaborate. Eggs with biscuits and fruit and more coffee. Harry was mostly useless in the kitchen. He chopped fruit and turned on the oven and made another pot of coffee. But it was still nice having his company. Despite how distracting he was.

“I’m going to burn the eggs!” Y/n giggled as Harry stuffed his face into her neck, his scruff scratching her skin and he laughed with her, his arms around her front as he stood behind her, chest pressed into her back. She couldn’t be mad at him. He was playful and couldn’t keep his hands off of her but she loved it. She loved little moments like this in all her past relationships. She didn’t have much of that with Leo.

Her heart only swelled at each passing minute with him. He was too perfect. Except for the few minor details of him being only 21 and that he was her stepson.

“I was thinking about Spring break the other day. And I was invited to come along with you and Dad to Greece. Said I could invite a friend if I wanted. Would that be weird if I came?”

Y/n pursed her lips to the side and took his empty plate as she considered the idea. She knew Harry had been invited, but that was before they’d gotten involved. And now that they were having a secret affair, having him along on the Greece vacation sounded like more of a disaster than a dream. How would they sneak away to see each other? How would Harry feel if Leo wanted to be sweet with Y/n? Usually, vacations with Leo meant that he was a little less stressed and a little more affectionate (a little more). It also meant he wanted to have sex with her more often.

“It would be hard. I think. Like… it’s for two whole weeks and you and I would have to pretend to be normal. How do you feel about it?”

Harry sighed, “That’s what I’ve been thinking about. I’m… trying to figure out if I can handle it. And I know this,” he gestured between them, “is just temporary. But I’d be jealous I think. Seeing you and my dad together. Plus… I don’t even want to go there in my mind but you’ll be in bed with him and not me. I don’t know. It would be weird right?”

Nodding her head she leaned on the island next to where he was seated and pushed the hair from his forehead with her fingers, “I wouldn’t want to make you jealous. Or hurt you. I don’t want that. But it would be nice for you to be there. It’s just too bad the circumstances make this… not ideal. Do you want to come?”

Harry looked at Y/n and frowned as he thought about that question in earnest, “I did. Invited Tyler to come. We’ve already started making plans for it. Sort of. But now… I think I’d just be a depressed mess the whole time. No one would know what was wrong with me except you. I don’t want to drag you down either. I probably shouldn’t go.”

Y/n pushed his legs apart and fit her hips in between them before draping her arms over his shoulder, “I’m leaving that decision up to you. It’s over a month away anyway. There’s still time to think about it.”

He nodded and, “I’ll weigh it out. We’ll see if Tyler can really go or not. He said yes at first but then he was talking about his job and I don’t know. I’ll decide soon.”

“Let’s go shopping. I need to get some groceries and I think it would be nice for us to walk around the plaza a bit. Get some air. Do something other than have sex,” she giggled as Harry pinched the back of her love handles with a grin.

“You want to go out? With me?”

She shrugged, “Why not? LA’s so big it’s unlikely anyone would see us and even if they did there’s nothing wrong with an outing with my stepson is there?”

Harry shook his head and breathed out a laugh through his nostrils, “Guess not. But that means you’ll probably put that stupidly massive ring on your finger that I loathe.”

She’d taken her wedding ring off with Harry around. When the girls came for the night it was still off but her excuse was that she was swimming and didn’t want to lose it in the pool (which was a believable reason).

“Maybe. I don’t know. Think I’ll leave it off actually.”

. . .

Getting out of the house with Harry was a needed reprieve. Her mind was swelling with his attention (physical and mental) and the change of scenery was refreshing.

And Y/n was right. They didn’t see anyone they knew. They walked along the streets that took them through the shops and the cafes at The Grove. Harry kept bumping his hip to hers and grazing his fingers along her arm. He didn’t want to do anything too obvious (like hold hands or make out in front of everyone, well, okay he did want to but he couldn’t) just in case there was someone that recognized them. But he did allow himself to subtly flirt with her. Remind her of who she was with. Keep her attention on him.

And that wasn’t a problem. She knew exactly who she was with. She was enjoying his company. A lot. They’d slowly started to get to know one another since they began their lurid tryst and she found him to be very fun and easy to talk to. She’d always liked him before and enjoyed his company, but now she really liked him. Really liked him. And that was a shame.

They stopped at the Diamond Bakery and picked up carby sweets and bread to take home, each getting a big pretzel and coffee in paper cups to go. When Harry ordered his Shappy everything bagel Y/n let out a surprised little laugh. Because that was her order. She always picked up the everything bagel, dry, with a black coffee.

“Are you kidding me? How do you know about the Shappy everything bagel?” She spoke after ordering for herself.

“Everyone knows about it, dummy. You’re not the only person in LA who comes here. This is like legendary Jewish bakery fair at its finest my dear.”

Y/n scoffed, “Yeah, but you’re getting it dry like I do. And most people order the original, not the everything.”

It wasn’t too wild of a coincidence really, but all the tiny coincidences added up. Like that Harry and Y/n both used the same Shu Uemura shampoo and conditioner or that they both had a tattoo of a palm tree on the back of their right arm in very similar spots, and that they both used the same Tom Ford cologne.

None of those coincidences were something to put much weight to on their own. But they kept finding things about one another, preferences really, that were the same.

Sitting down in the park on a bench and eating their bagels and drinking their coffee felt so natural. Normal. They chatted about a movie Y/n had seen with Marla the week earlier and then they got onto the subject of Harry’s friend Jay and Murphy’s Lounge. Which led to them reminiscing about that night.

“I didn’t expect to see you there. Couldn’t believe it when I saw you at the bar. Nearly fell out of my chair,” Harry laughed and ripped a bite off his pretzel.

Y/n leaned back into the bench seat and crossed her leg toward Harry, “You did not almost fall off your chair! I saw you casually nod to me and say something to Jay and then you sauntered over to me and Marla with that smirk you wear so well.” Her eyes glistened as she licked her lips and watched the young man chew the bite he’d just taken, jaw grinding and clenching.

“Smirk? Probably just trying to keep my grin in control. I was happy to see you.” He laughed.

“You surprised me with your hair. I had no idea you’d gotten it cut. Also surprised me you didn’t go enjoy yourself and dance with one of the many girls trying to get your attention,” Y/n swung her leg gently and let her foot tap Harry’s shin as she spoke.

He crumpled up the paper wrapper and stuffed it into the bag when he’d finished his last bite and put his arm along the bench behind Y/n’s back, “Didn’t want to dance with anyone but you.”

Y/n playfully smacked his thigh, “Yeah right.”

Harry kept the grin on his face as he tilted his head looking at her like she was crazy, “What do you mean yeah right? It’s quite obvious I have the hots for you. Or was all the sex not enough of a hint?”

A loud bubble of laughter fell from her lips as she looked up at the man. He was sitting a bit closer to her than they had been when they first sat down and she liked it.

“Okay. Fine. So you had it all planned all along? You were gonna play coy and make me ask you to dance and then start dirty dancing with me on the dance floor in front of dozens of other people?”

Harry looked down at his lap and then back into her eyes as he pulled a bit of the ends of her hair that fell over his hand on the back of the bench, “I had no idea that was going to happen. But I always found you attractive.”

Y/n could feel the way he was tugging at her strands, the action hidden from view of anyone around, and how it pricked softy at the skin at the nape of her neck. That, in turn, sent an icy trickle of heat down her back. Or maybe it was his bright eyes locked on hers. Or both. He was easily the smoothest flirt she’d ever met. It was so smooth because it was so subtle but at the same time, he made it crystal clear what he was doing.

“Yeah? Had no idea. I thought you were cute when I first met you. The long hair, tattoos… Thought you were kind of a bad boy or something before I got to know you.”

Harry chuckled, “Kind of miss the bad boy look. But I’ve never been much for getting into trouble. I’m like, more of a good boy. As you know.” He licked his lips and kept his eyes on her, a straight face.

She felt her cheeks flush and the icy heat down her back started to burn as his fingers grasped a bit more of her hair and his fingertips brushed against her neck.

She’d forgotten about her coffee and her half-finished bagel as her heart began to trollop a little harder. She laughed in disbelief as she watched him slowly crack a grin, “Right? I’m a good boy, aren’t I? S’what you’ve been telling me lately anyway.”

Harry was so close she could smell the coffee on his breath as he spoke. She wanted to lean in and kiss his raspberry-tinted lips just to feel them right then and there. Just a peck. A show of affection. She wanted to pull his hand into her lap and link their fingers and stare at his features in the late afternoon light and then walk with him hand in hand to the farmer's market without worrying that anyone would see or care.

She grinned at him with a nod, “Yes. A very good boy, Harry.”

He could see the heat in her eyes. Could tell that he was working his way under her skin just like she had done to him. “Wish I could kiss you.”

Y/n licked her lips and raised her brows subtly at the suggestion, “So do I.”

Harry’s fingers combed through her hair at the back of her head before returning his fingertips to her neck, nails scraping lightly at her skin. She leaned into his touch and found that she was unable to remove her gaze from his.

“We’re sat too close aren’t we?” He asked, making no attempt to move himself away to a safe distance.

She nodded, “Yeah.”

Instead of moving away, Harry brought his free arm across his body and let his fingertips ghost over her knuckles, “I should definitely scooch away so no one gets any ideas.”

Y/n looked down at her hand and Harry’s and lifted her fingers into his, “Probably,” she spoke quietly as she looked back up at him.

“But what if I didn’t?”

The sound of a child screaming caught their attention and they both turned to watch a little boy run past and into the grass toward a bird. The child’s guardian running after them.

When they both looked back at one another they laughed, “We should go to the farmer’s market before the stalls are all closed up. Can get some veggies and fruit for dinner tonight.”

Harry insisted on carrying all the bags, including Y/n’s purse as they walked back to her car.

“Probably went overboard on the strawberries but they looked so good,” she said, taking one of the bags from him and loading it into her trunk. “We could make smoothies tomorrow. I know we won’t be able to go through all of them before you leave.”

Harry paused for a moment at her words. He realized that their time together was fleeting. He’d be leaving to go back to his dorm tomorrow night or Monday morning, depending on how things played out. Depending on if she was okay that he stayed until Monday.

“Yeah. Smoothies sound good,” he smiled and closed her trunk.

In her car, Harry was free to put his hand on her lap and she was free to fold her fingers in between his. She leaned across the console and kissed him deeply before they drove off, leaving him breathless.

Y/n couldn’t believe this was her life. She couldn’t believe that she was married to a super-rich and influential man and given everything she could want (monetarily) and that she was fucking her husband's son. Couldn’t believe that she was developing deep feelings so fast for a guy in college who was 6 and a half years younger than her. Feelings for her stepson. It was insane. She never would have imagined this for herself.

Yet here she was taking his cock as she was leaned over the kitchen island. She wouldn’t have ever expected to be the type to get so wound up from any man that she couldn’t even put away groceries before she was being fucked.

But that’s just what happened. She opened the door and turned to let Harry in with his arms full of bags. She teased him that he was trying to show off and that he was only doing it to get on her good side.

“Did it work?” He smirked as he placed the bags down on the counter and stood over her, caging her against the island and rubbing his nose against hers.

“Huh?” She’d lost her train of thought almost immediately when he crowded her space and pressed his hips to hers.

He laughed and kisses her jaw, “Did I get on your good side? Made you happy?”

She felt his warm lips on her neck before she could answer and the moment he found her sweet spot she melted completely. He was already catching on to what she liked. What she loved. He knew pressing his lips to her neck at her pulse point and licking over the spot before sucking lightly was like turning on a switch.

Her hands smoothed up the expanse of his back, his wide, strong lats as she stretched her neck out for him, “You make me happy. Yes.” She panted her words.

Harry grinned into her neck as he continued kissing over her soft spot. Making her weaker for him by the second.

“Oh god, Harry…” breathy words turned into a moan as she shifted her hips toward his gently.

And somehow she found herself turned around, bent at the waist, leaned over the marble island with her panties down around her ankles as Harry’s cock was slipping into her cunt deliciously. The way he pulled out to his crown and thrust back in balls deep slowly, over and over again was driving her nuts. To feel his long and thick cock parting her pussy from tip to hilt was unrivaled. She had never been fucked with such enthusiasm ever in her life. Harry was full of enthusiasm and he was thankful to be on the receiving end of it.

She kept her left arm on the countertop to steady herself as she used her right hand to finger her clit.

“Can feel your fingers on my balls, Y/n. Fuck… I’m gonna fill you up so deep, get it all the way in there.” He punctuated his words with each inward plunge as his tip reached into her guts.

“Fuck, yes, Harry! Come inside of me. Wanna milk every drop from you.”

Harry choked out an astonished laugh, “Yeah? Every drop? You’re greedy, aren’t you?”

“Yes...” she groaned. “Greedy for your cock and all your come.”

The sun was going down and they hadn’t bothered to turn on any lights when they stepped into the kitchen so the shadows were beginning to spread into the space slowly as the light from outside seeped away. Their bodies kissing each time Harry pressed in with wet slushy sounds coming from them.

She rested her face into the crook of her left arm. Harry had his right hand gripping the counter as his left stayed at her hip. He was breathing hard at the exertion but his cock was throbbing inside of her.

“Making me so wet, Harry. Your cock is so good. Gonna make me come…” Her words were mumbled into her arm but Harry heard her well and making her come was his goal.

Their bodies thudded together in the golden light of sundown, the shadows hiding their infidelities as they both came. The moment he felt her flutter around him and she moaned loudly, babbling “yes yes yes yes yes…” he drove into her a small handful of times before finally draining his come inside of her guts. He gasped and bent his knees the slightest to hold himself steady as he pressed in, tucking his balls against her.

Leaning over her back he kissed her shoulder blade and then her neck before whispering into her ear, “Get what you wanted?”

Her mind was still loopy and buzzing as she opened her eyes, “What?”

He pressed his chest to her back and kissed her lobe as he gently moved his hips into her, “Said you were greedy for my cock and my come. Just making sure you got what you wanted.” He teased.

A smile that lifted the edges of her mouth took over her face, “Mhmm… So good, Harry. The best actually. You gave me just what I wanted.”

Harry closed his eyes, keeping his lips at her neck. The best actually. He’d take those words with him through the week.

Music and dinner, flirting and more sex. Slower and softer. The TV show they’d been watching was just a placeholder. Background noise.

Y/n straddled him and hung onto his shoulders and fucked him deep inside of her. She barely moved off of him as she shifted and ground herself over him. They went from staring at one another and panting praises and dirty words to wet tongues and lips moving and pressing together.

Harry’s feet were flat on the floor as he held onto her bottom. Spreading his legs a bit to get leverage he began to roll his hips upward into her and she gasped at how deep he felt.

“I’m the best ever? Is that true, Y/n?” He spoke as he watched her face scrunch up in ecstasy, his thighs working hard to keep pace as he fucked into her.

“Yes, you... You’re so good, Harry. Never gonna want anyone else…” She moaned.

“Fuck… That makes me feel so good,” he pushed his mouth to hers as he groaned and basked in how it felt to have Y/n riding him. How good she felt. How much he liked her. “M’never gonna want anyone else either. I’m fucked for you.”

They were speaking in the heat of the moment. Of course, lust had crowded their senses and their sanity. Those things should have never been spoken but it was too late. And even though lust had guided their discretion it was all true. Heat of the moment or not.

“Harry, I’m fucked for you. Need you every day.” She was so close and she knew better. She might have been on the verge of her orgasm but she still knew better. It wasn’t that she was leading him on, because what she said was the truth. But it was more that she shouldn’t say things like that when they couldn’t be.

When their mouths collided again, the connection of their hot centers and wet mouths was all too much. Bodies pressed together, beating, throbbing, shaking, fusing, melting…

They both came with moans mixing into their mouths, skin slipping together and pulsing pleasure dripping and releasing.

Gasps fell from their chests when they parted from the kiss as their bodies slowly caught air and their brains sobered up. But it was Y/n’s phone ringing that sobered them up even faster. Caught them before they started admitting more reckless things to one another. Things that were dangerous and foolish. Words that couldn’t be taken back.

With Harry still inside of her, she reached to the arm of the couch and plucked her phone up. It was Leo. He hadn’t called her on Friday to check in with her like he said he would, but she’d been a bit too occupied to notice or even care.

“Hi, hon. How’s it going?”

Harry watched her face as Y/n listened to his dad speak, looking at Harry with her pretty eyes.

“Oh, that’s okay. I was busy yesterday anyway. The girls came over here last night instead of us going out. Was really fun.”

The sound of the TV on in the background drowned out anything Harry might have been able to hear from the phone.

“Oh, yeah. Of course. That’s okay. Who did you say it was with?” She shot her gaze toward the front of the living room and then back to Harry, “No. I’m sure I’ve never met her.”

Harry brushed his thumbs over her naked thighs as he kept his attention on her. It felt strange knowing his cock was inside of his stepmother while she was on the phone with his dad.

“Right… Well, it sounds like fun. I’d be happy to go.”

When she got off the phone she slowly leaned forward into Harry, wrapping her arms around his neck and laying her head on his shoulder, “Forgot Valentine’s Day is coming. Leo’s been invited to some party at a woman’s house in Beverly Hills and I’m going too. He said he’s there with her. Heard her voice in the background and that’s when he mentioned the Valentine’s Day party.”

Y/n had thought very little about what Harry said on Thursday night when he overheard Leo on the phone. A small part of her was curious but she was mostly busy being enamored with her stepson. But now that she’d just been on the phone with him and learned that he was in the Hampton’s with a woman that lived nearby in LA was… well it was interesting. A thing to keep in mind. She didn’t know what it meant. He was allowed to do as he pleased with discretion and so was she. If he was starting to have an emotional sort of romance with another woman that could turn into a problem, but then it was also a problem that Y/n was sleeping with his son and quickly finding his company to be her favorite.

“I forgot about it as well. So you’ll be busy with my dad?”

She nodded into his neck, “Yeah,” she lifted her head to look at him as she carded her fingers through the back of his hair, “Honestly, though? Wish I could spend it with you.”

Harry smiled, “Me too. Are you worried at all about this woman?”

Shaking her head she spoke, “No. He can do what he wants. I’m more worried about the next time you and I can have together alone more than anything.”

“You keep saying things that make me think you’re really into me, Y/n.” He grinned with a laugh.

“Well, I kinda am really into you. I don’t think it was my intention at first but… here we are,” she laughed and gestured at their naked bodies, still connected.

Harry softly squeezed a bit of skin at her bottom making her laugh, “So you like me then? Wanna keep me around?”

“Isn’t it obvious how much I like you?” she chuckled and grazed her free hand over his pecs, “What do you think? Wanna stick around? See what happens?”

Harry’s grin deepened causing the dimples on his cheeks to dig into his face, “That was my plan all along. Couldn’t get rid of me even if you wanted to.”

“Oh is that so? You’d just keep crawling back to me?”

“You know I would. M’obsessed. Addicted.” Harry tilted his forehead to hers as he spoke.

“Good. Because I am too.”

4. A Mistake

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neteyamsyawntu · 7 months

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Synopsis ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

Taking place in an alternate universe where the RDA do not return to Pandora until 20 years later; the Sully’s are forced to abandon the Omaticaya in an attempt to keep the clan and themselves safe. This however meant that you were to say goodbye to your lover and closets companion and while Neteyam swore he would return to you, you grew restless and search for them yourself. Have you had known that events would unfold as fatally as they did, you may have stayed in the forest.

Now with Neteyam resurrected on the side of the RDA, seemingly having lost himself to their mind games, you make it your sole mission to bring him back to you, no matter the cost.

✨Friendly Disclaimer: The content of this story contains aged-up characters! If this is something that makes you uncomfortable, please feel free to click or scroll away. The last thing I want is for anyone to read something they are uncomfortable with, however if you decide to interact with any negativity, you will be blocked from my blog as a result.

A general warning: This series is intended for audiences over the age of 18. 🔞Minors please do not interact🔞

Chapters ➼

Prologue

You left your home in the forest of Pandora, driven to find your childhood companion, unable to face the reality of possibly never seeing him. Successfully reaching the Sullys, your reunion with is short and sweet. However the moment you lock eyes with Neteyam, a rush of emotions seem to overwhelm both of you equally, prompting Neteyam to bring you to somewhere more private to catch up.

Chapter 1

You are mated to Neteyam before his death and the impact it had on you was catastrophic. Your entire world had shattered, but you couldn’t find it within yourself to dwell on mourning, making it an obligation to your deceased mate to take up his role in watch after his siblings. After a first RDA raid on Awa’atlu, Neteyam has been resurrected by the RDA now being mind controlled to fight against his family and you. After your first encounter seeing Neteyam back from the dead, you know that he isn’t his true self… maybe there is a way to bring him back.

Chapter 2

You try to make sense of this ‘new Neteyam’. Where did he get all of this hatred from? Could he really have been so easily swayed to change sides or was there something deeper? All you know if you have to get him to realize his true self, so you set out on a solo mission to bring him back yourself.

Chapter 3

After being captured by the RDA you try your best to press Neteyam for his motives, but it leads you down a dead end and a dangerous encounter with Quaritch that brings out Neteyam's possessive nature.

Chapter 4

After Neteyam takes it upon himself to reclaim you as his mate, the two of you find yourselves in a risky situation.

Chapter 5

While you finally reunite with the Sully's and the rest of the Metkayina clan, Quaritch works with General Ardmore on how they can further subdue Neteyam's rebellious behavior.

Chapter 6

To be continued •••

Hello lovely readers! I figured it was about time I gave my series a proper masterlist, I hope this new format makes it easier to navigate through chapters!

Chapters will be progressively updated as they are posted.

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amuseoffyre · 5 months

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Stede's progression of realising how bad things became is so quietly done through s2. Especially since the start point is him knowing Ed marooned his crew.

Plus, despite what everyone seems to think about him, Stede knows a lot more about Ed's past actions than they seem to realise. He knows about Ed's dad (something no one else knows), he knows about the burning ships and the toe-cutting and the skinning.

He just is... coming at it from the wrong angle at the start of the season.

"he's just letting off some steam" - it's still all just pirating activity, if a lot more intense than usual

"why would he [kill me]?" - Stede still not grasping how much he meant to Ed and how much damage his departure did

"I'm afraid your life is better without me" - and also still of the belief he will always and only be a last choice

"Ed pushed you? Why would he do that?" - the realisation that the stuff that happened to his crew was because of him

"I hurt Ed so much he pushed you off the ship" - not just realising it, but acknowledging it and recalibrating his perspective to see that not only did Ed actually genuinely care for him as much as he did for Ed, but that in leaving him behind, he's sent Ed on a downward spiral.

"I think I hurt him pretty bad" - again, acknowledging he did a wrong and determined to fix it

"I'm not ready to believe [that the time he spent with me is the best it's ever going to get for him] - the conviction that Ed can and does deserve to have some more of the happiness he craved when he just wanted "to be Edward"

his entire interrogation of the Break-up Boat crew, knowing full well that they're all lying but not able to get a clear answer

It speaks measures that he goes from thinking "Ed wouldn't want to kill me because he probably didn't even notice I was gone" to piecing together all the pieces of evidence and realising how truly shattered Ed is. It's a slow, steady realisation and in that confrontation with Izzy in the cabin, it has all crystalised into the knowledge that "he was going to watch the world burn or die trying".

He always knew what Ed was capable of, even if the crew thought he didn't or was being foolish and naive about it. "It feels pretty complicated. It feels bad", he admits when he knows how badly Ed hurt them, especially when he now believes it's all his fault.

"I let him down and I'm the cause of a lot of this", he says, so everything he does after that is in the name of trying to make things right. He does right by the crew, he negotiates with Zheng for their release, and even after he finds out they killed Ed, he still works to save them all, because he knows they don't deserve to die for saving themselves.

And then when Ed comes back, he agrees to let the crew decide Ed's fate - they voted him out (and I'm so curious about who voted how because Izzy's vote was the decider) but Stede said he would ask the crew if he could come back as well and clearly, they allowed it.

He spends so much of the rest of the season trying to undo all the damage he believed he had done, both with the crew and with Ed himself, even if he may or may not be very good at it. He tries and continues to try to make amends and I like him very much for it.

#ofmd #ofmd meta #stede bonnet

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theloveinc · 10 months

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miguel o'hara x reader - little thing abt migs w/ a baby boy instead of a baby girl. takes him a bit to get used to it.

(warning: ref to you giving birth + the word "bosom" but nothing more than that, bad scenery)

Miguel is having trouble with his… son.

It still feels strange to say it—a son, his son. Born covered in hair and slightly purple with a screeching cry that could’ve shattered even opera house windows. You, in the sterile white bed, not decorated in memories of pink but of blue. And him, by your side, not unhappy but surprised, because of all the things he knew and expected, it wasn’t this.

In all the universes where he’s happy, he sees himself with a daughter. Beautiful, smiley Gabriella, with curls he’s able to tie up in braids, a passion for soccer he helps hone, a connection deeper than blood and DNA itself. He has yet to find a version of himself with both you by his side and a son in his life.

“Pa.”

His baby babbles, strapped safely into the jumper you put him in for Miguel to watch while he works, plump legs hanging from the soft cotton that keeps him upright, chubby hands batting against the fake rainbow buttons that kept him entertained until now.

“Son."

“Pa,” he gurgles again, little pout on his baby plump lips as he gazes, brown eyed, up at his father, “pa.”

"Gabriel," he says, and he can imagine your voice. The half-critique you’d pester him with about taking your son seriously, celebrating his feats of speaking with adult words to help him understand more, more, more… then he can imagine you nagging him for also being too formal. “What is it, mijo?”

The acknowledgement doesn't work, and instead, the boy begins to cry: his sandy hair (that’s already beginning to darken and curl at its ends) flopping over his forehead with frustration when his feet start kicking but do not hit any ground.

Miguel thinks about calling you. Gabri’s always preferred your bosom to his, softening into your chest like dough the second you lift him into your arms, and smiling as though he it's where he belongs. It's almost as if all the other universes Miguel visited before he was born had laid claim on him first, a stain of sorts that only a baby could detect in trying to bond with someone who was already imprinted on.

(He’s never been able to admit his jealously, barely even to himself; is this the life he’s supposed to be living? Did he just want these things because he assumed he was supposed to have them? Is his son a punishment for the expectations he was never supposed to have? Miguel tries not to ponder it too hard.)

“Papa!” Gabri continues to wail, little fists knocking against plastic so hard that Miguel is finally forced to turn away from his many screens and face the sight of... his boy reaching his little arms up, up, up in asking to be held.

And that’s all it takes for him to melt.

#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel #atsv #i love a weird dynamic and esp one where like #it doesnt feel right at first #too embarrassed to type up everything i was thinking of #so just enjoy! sorry if bad #caitie post #gen #caitie things #kids tw

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sumwan · 5 months

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I'm not sure how many people know about this, but the entire script for the Green Festival was actually shown in Tommy's DSMP tribute video from last year. It seems to have been written by Dream (it mentions "I" at some point when referring to Dream), and it's pretty interesting to see how they planned out the lore streams and what changed in the actual streams.

Transcription can be found under the cut.

Transcription The festival is happening. Fundy, Tubbo, Quackity, Ranboo, Niki, and anyone else that is generally around lmanburg can attend. Everyone starts streaming early for the festival. Before the festival starts, Quackity Tubbo and Fundy (and ranboo? I'm not sure who was there originally), have a meeting about how they're going to kill Dream.

They talk about how Dream trusts Tubbo so Tubbo is going to have to be the one to do it. That they've become sort of friends since Tommy was exiled. Tubbo agrees, still slightly doubtful that it would work. Tubbo says that Dream agreed to show up with no armor to for the first time ever, honor lmanburgs laws.

The meeting ends and they start the festival, talking about how Dream said he would be a little late.

Tommy and Techno at this point have been planning how they're going to ruin the festival (and get back Tommy's disc from Dream). They know that Dream will show up, but they don't know how they'll fight him without him escaping. (Ranboo finds them on the outskirts of lmanburg and tells them that Dream agreed to show up in no armor? possibly?) That sparks that they can hide around lmanburg and ambush Dream when he's at the festival. Tommy and Techno improv and mess around while trying to build an "ambush spot" (all of this is sort of unimportant to the plot so can be adjusted to make funnier/better streams for those two).

Tommy and Techno start streaming about 30 minutes after the others.

After some festival activities have been done, Dream shows up in full armor, placing obsidian again in a wall formation. Everyone sees him and runs over confused about what's happening.

They hop in a call with dream (techno and tommy join too but tell eachother to be quiet before joining.) Dream starts screaming about what Tommy did and how he really screwed up this time (tommy is kind of afraid and is looking at techno for assurance), and everyone is confused about what Tommy did, especially tubbo. Dream yells about the fact that Tommy destroyed the community house, the longest standing structure on the server, and how he has to pay for it. Quackity and the others don't believe it and decide to go look with Dream. (Techno and Tommy follow stealthily behind (invis), no one should see them).

Sapnap and anyone else from the original Dream SMP can log on now or already be on and come over to see. (Awesam, Callahan, George(probably not), Sapnap, BadBoyHalo, Punz)

They stand in front of the shattered remains and everyone is shocked that Tommy would do this, and upset. Everyone is insisting that Tommy really screwed up and that it's horrible.

Tubbo agrees but insists that he and lmanburg had nothing to do with it. Dream says that as long as Tubbo has one of the discs, he has everything to do with Tommy. Tubbo seems shocked and thinks about what Dream said. All of the Dream SMP original members agree and are talking about how he should give it so they can burn it once and for all. Tubbo is reluctant but seems to agree that Tommy keeps doing things that would put lmanburg in danger, so he doesn't want association.

He seems like he is about to give the disc, so Tommy reveals himself (techno too) and gets into a screaming match with Tubbo about it.

--Tommy and tubbo fill in what happens here, but it's a big argument and fight probably mostly improv-

Eventually after both nearly dying, Tommy realizes that he's fighting his best friend and stops. Tubbo is angry and gives the disc quickly to Dream, saying that it's just a stupid disc. Tommy is hurt by that but realizes that he's been blinded and has lost friends because of it. Tommy realizes that Dream now has both of his discs, and that they're back at square one.

Dream has an evil speech about how Tubbo is an idiot and that he never should have given him the disc. That Tubbo was never the president of L'manburg, but that everyone else had more control than him of his own country, even Dream. That he's the worst president because he was no president at all. Expose Ranboo as a traitor that has been working with Techno and Tommy, and that he can't even keep control of his own people. Give Tubbo the book with proof. That l'manburg is weaker than it's ever been, and that the only thing stopping Dream from completely destroying l'manburg was the fact that Tubbo had the discs and so Dream had to befriend him.

Now there's nothing stopping Dream from completely obliterating l'manburg. Everyone seems shocked and tries to talk Dream down, but Dream screams and tells everyone to shut up. Everyone goes completely silent. Dream asks Techno if he has any withers left. Techno responds basically like "oh do III" because he has so many.

--Techno should add more here so he has more of a role-

Dream announces that tonight is the final night of l'manburg forever. That he and Techno will finish the job that Wilbur started, and that l'manburg will be blown all the way to bedrock at (TIME, the next day). He tells everyone to say their last goodbyes, and to not try and stop him because Techno and him will kill every last one of them.

Dream leaves.

Everyone is left in shock, (maybe techno has some funny monologue here like it's awkward that I just left him there with everyone or something)

No one knows what to say. They realize that Dream has gone completely insane and that he has to be stopped. (techno is gone by now) They realize that Dream made a mistake by telling them the time, and they decide that they will all plan to work together and stop them. If all of the server fights together they can beat Techno and Dream. They get hyped about it and Tommy and Tubbo agree to fight together, despite having 1 canon life, that they're willing to put their lives on the line for l'manburg. They kind of have a reunion.

--Possibly Tommy leaves or ends here?-

Quackity seems blood thirsty and wants to punish Ranboo for conspiring with them and being a traitor. Tubbo disagrees and Quackity and tubbo get into an argument, Quackity insists that he HAS to execute him because he was a traitor. Tubbo gets mad and flips out on Quackity insisting that he's not going to be like Schlatt and execute him next to his own festival decorations (call back), that they need to ALL be together, ALL of them, otherwise they will lose to Techno and Dream. As long as he agrees to fight, he will fight with them. Quackity still seems to disagree, Tubbo puts his foot down and mentions what Dream said. That everyone else always pushed him around, but no HE'S the president, and his word is final, anyone who goes against it is committing treason. Quackity reluctantly agrees, but says that what Tubbo said doesn't mean they can't deal with the traitors after they stop Techno and Dream.

-End of this stream-

Bullet points for Tommy-

Starts Stream a little after Tubbo and the others start.

Plan to go to l'manburg to ruin the festival

Show up at l'manburg, with lots of invis potions, investigate what's happening

Dream shows up, join VC secretly Hear Dream freak out about the community house, seem confused, follow them.

Once Tubbo seems like he's going to give up the disc, tommy interjects

Fight tubbo

Give up on fighting tubbo and realize that you're fighting your best friend

Listen to Dream evil speech

After Dream/Techno leaves, convince everyone to work together. Talk about putting your life on the line for l'manburg.

Bullet points for Techno-

Start Stream a little after Tubbo and the others start.

Plan to go to l'manburg to ruin the festival

Show up at l'manburg, with lots of invis potions, investigate what's happening

Dream shows up, join VC secretly Hear Dream freak out about the community house, seem confused, follow them.

Once Tubbo seems like he's going to give up the disc, tommy interjects

Fight tubbo

Give up on fighting tubbo and realize that you're fighting your best friend

Listen to Dream evil speech

Join in when Dream asks if you have withers, *whatever else you want here*

After Dream leaves, awkwardly leave and head back to your house

Dream is there and Techno & Dream briefly talk about what they're going to do, Techno shows Dream the wither room

Bullet points for l'manburg-

Start Stream a little before the festival

Have meeting with cabinet about killing Dream, how Tubbo should be the one to do it because he's trusted.

Start the festival, Dream said he would show up a little later.

Dream shows up in full armor and is building an obsidian wall.

Realize and run over pissed off. Join his VC (don't see tommy / techno)

Listen to Dream, then go see the community house

Be mad at Tommy

Tubbo fights with Tommy after almost giving up his disc

Fight ends, Tubbo gives the disc to Dream to end war

Listen to Dream evil speech

Ranboo was a traitor for Techno/Tommy

After Dream/Techno leaves, Tubbo and Tommy convince people to work together. They talk about putting their lives on the line for l'manburg.

Quackity wants Ranboo executed

Tubbo puts his foot down and insists that he will not be doing that, that he's president.

Bullet Points for original DreamSMP members:

After l'manburg and dream show up at the community house(it's blown up), show up and seem upset and distressed that it was blown up. That it was the oldest artifact on the server and it had a lot of memories.

Follow Dream's lead, mostly agreeing with what he says.

Once Dream brings up the disc that Tubbo has, insist that it be burned and turned over by Tubbo.

Once Tubbo turns over the disc, Dream gives and evil speech

Realize that Dream is taking it too far and l'manburg's a part of history and is a free country

Follow Tommy/Tubbo's lead, talk about how you guys can stop Dream and Techno if you all work together

#maybe this was known about already but I've never seen it anywhere?#meta #it's funny to me how closely both Dream and Punz follow the script actually #dsmp

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accio-sriracha · 4 months

Text

Choosing isn't an option.

A quick Jegulus drabble I wrote while waiting to start work, enjoy <33

~~~♤~~~

Regulus stood, facing his boyfriend, anger flaring through him.

"Reg-" James started. He held up a hand,

"Don't. Please just don't."

"I'm sorry." James continued anyways, "You know I didn't mean it like that. I swear I never would have-"

"I don't know anything, James! I thought you would have understood! But you didn't. You yelled at me!"

"I know, and I am so sorry-"

"I just- I need some space right now, okay?" Reg whispered, tears threatening to spill from his eyes.

James' breath hitched, he and Regulus never needed space from each other, they always worked things out by talking it through.

"Reg?" He whispered, his voice breaking.

He looked away, "Please just go."

James could feel his heart shattering, he didn't care to pick up the pieces, leaving them at his boyfriend's feet as he left the room.

"James?" Remus called when James walked right past them in the common room, "What's wrong?"

James didn't stop, he wasn't sure he could bring himself to put on a smile. He continued up the stairs and to their dorm. Footsteps followed quickly behind him.

"Prongs?" It was Peter's voice now, "Are you okay?"

He shook his head, curling up under his covers. Sirius immediatley climbed in next to him, wordlessly holding him.

"I fucked everything up." James whispered, "I'm sorry, Padfoot, I-" He broke off, a choked sob escaping him as he finally let himself cry.

Sirius shushed him, gently pulling his shoulder to turn him around, "You don't have to apologize, it's okay. We'll fix it. Whatever it is, we'll fix it." He murmured.

Remus sat on the foot of his bed, Peter on the floor beside him. Both of them watched as Sirius did his best to comfort James.

"It's Reg." He finally got the words out, "I- I fucked up with Regulus."

Sirius' eyes went wide for a second. James could see the hesitation on his face.

Regulus was his brother, his flesh and blood, the one Sirius had given everything up to protect his whole life. And James was his best friend, his chosen family, the one he'd left everything behind to stay with.

He couldn't chose between them. And James wouldn't let him.

"Please go find him." James whispered, "Make sure he's okay. I- I hurt him really bad."

"Did you-" He cleared his throat and sat up a little, "Did you hit him?"

James jumped up, "No! Merlin, no! You know I could never! I just- I yelled at him. It was stupid, I know that. It wasn't even a big deal, I shouldn't have gotten so upset, and I tried to apologize but-"

"Hey, it's okay." Sirius pulled him into another hug, "I know you'd never hit him, I just had to ask. We're gonna fix this, I promise."

James nodded, brushing away his tears with his sleeve.

"We'll stay here with him. Go find your brother." Remus told Sirius.

Sirius gave him one last squeeze before leaving the room. James turned to Remus and Peter after the door shut behind him.

"If we break up-" He started Peter cut him off,

"Don't even think like that, Prongs." He reached up to place a hand over his own, "You're going to be fine. You know that."

"Yeah, but if we do." He insisted, "What will happen with Pads?"

"Sirius will figure it out." Remus told him, "You know he isn't willing to lose either of you."

"Was this a mistake?" James looked at their hands, "I'm making him chose between me and his brother. What if we argue again? What happens when he has to chose a side?"

"It won't come to that." Peter insisted, "You and Regulus aren't like that. Neither of you would do that to him, no matter how angry you are at each other."

"And what happens if we do anyways?"

"We'll figure it out together." Remus smiled softly, "But I don't think one little fight is going to put your entire relationship at stake."

"Really?" James asked. Remus nodded,

"Really. Think of all the times you and Pads have faught over the years, and you still love him don't you?"

"Yeah but that's different." James muttered.

"Why?" Remus asked.

"Because he's like a brother to me. I know he's not going anywhere. I'm too scared to lose Reg, I-" He trailed off, shaking his head, "I love him more than anything. I can't imagine my world without him, you know? Like the moment he entered my life I just- I just knew. I was born to love him. I just wish I could explain to him how much he means to me. Sirius is my brother, it doesn't matter how many times I fuck up, he'll always be there at the end of the day, just like I would for him. But with Reg I'm so terrified of messing up I end up pushing him away. I got scared and lashed out and now I might lose him and-" He tried to slow his breathing, Peter squeezed his hand,

"Regulus is your family now, James. We can all see it. He's not going anywhere either."

James nodded, "Yeah... I really hope so. Thanks guys."

A noise from the doorway caught their attention and they all turned to find Regulus and Sirius standing there. Regulus was wiping tears from his eyes.

"He was coming up to find you." Sirius explained, "I ran into him in the hall just outside of the portrait hole."

"Reg." James whispered. He didn't know what to say, he had no idea how much Regulus had heard.

"Did you really mean it?" Regulus asked, "You love me?"

James nodded, "I meant every word."

They stared at each other for a moment longer before James stood, walking over to take both of his hands,

"I'm sorry, Regulus. You have no idea how much the idea of hurting you is killing me. I'm sorry I lashed out earlier... I was just- I was so scared of losing you. You aren't something I can ever live without." He took a deep breath, "I'm in love with you, Reg. With every piece of me. And I never want to let you go."

"I love you too." Regulus whispered, there was a soft smile on his face, "I'm sorry I pushed you away, and that I made you mad in the first place. I should have just talked it out with you Ike we always do."

James shook his head, "It's okay."

"We're okay, right?" Reg asked. James nodded,

"Yeah, we're okay."

He pulled Regulus into a tight embrace, glancing at Sirius over his shoulder,

"Promise me you'll never let me hurt him?" He whispered. Sirius nodded,

"I promise, Prongs."

"Good. Because choosing between us isn't an option."

Regulus laughed and tucked his face into James' neck, "Merlin, you'd be lucky if you figured out a way to shake us both off."

"I love you." James whispered again, kissing the top of Regulus' head. Regulus hummed,

"I love you too, Jamie."

~~~♤~~~

#marauders #marauders era #james potter #regulus black #james loves regulus #james x regulus #sirius and regulus #the black brothers #starchaser #sunseeker #jegulus

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kneelingshadowsalome · 4 months

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Idea I've had for highschool sweetheart to make könih further rot in guilt because it's silly and amusing that I simply had to share <3

In cliques of the nature of his bullies there are always the internal dynamics people outside don't see. Like how one person is never felt true compliments, only back handed ones if not just straight up insults. Fed lies about how no one else would ever be friends with them, the punching bag of within the clique to keep the glue of the group strong and firm. Naturally it would have been the shyest and most bookish person within the group. But you've known these people your entire life they didn't always act like this they used to be kind and good. (right? they, they were kind once right?) so day dreams become an escape because how could anyone be friends with you? How could anyone tolerate you? Especially after you were around the clique, how could you ever approach the quiet boy who you knew they picked on. He must hate you. You longed to be friends (don't delude yourself you didn't wish to be friends you wished to be lovers but start small right). How could you ever approach him. And then graduation comes and you're abandoned. You can heal and begin to find your personhood. You can pick the shattered pieces of your confidence up off the floor and glue your life back together. It takes years but eventually you gather up the courage to reach out to the boy after he misses the reunion. You want to apologize for your passivity at least. You must after all. (You were children and both victims in your own right but how could this ever be spoken of? You must play the role of the bystander because who would ever believe otherwise? You may have healed but there are still cracks of course.) and much later maybe he learns all this, maybe he reads it in a journal or a letter addressed to him, maybe you finally get the courage to tell him. And the guilt and rot grows like fungus over his heart, eating his anger alive and churning out something like grief in return. Not that you'd noticed the anger, you just saw the second chance, of course he would be wary of you, of course he would have changed over the decade, but a decade of growth was only done on the foundation of the boy you loved before. How could you not love the man he's become now?

tee hee I'm going insane I hope you enjoy my little ramble

Yes yes yes the delicious reveal of how it was for her, that she wasn’t having a happy time in the clique, that she, too, was suffering! ❤️‍🩹

In my opinion König would eventually come to his senses. If we’re treating this scenario with actual seriousness, he would eventually see that what he’s doing is useless and stupid and hurtful and unjust to both of them. I mean he’s clinically insane, he’s nasty and troubled and traumatized and works for a fucking PMC and tortures people but... he’s not rotten to the core. König is like a stray dog that bites if it feels like it’s about to get cornered and beaten again, and that’s his viewpoint with high school sweetheart actually. It may sound silly and misplaced but he’s just too triggered to see that he’s about to do a royal fuck-up with her.

And the unbearable shame when he realizes? When he faces the thing he has become? It’s simply too much to bear, he has worked so hard on himself & to put that shit behind him, he’s built confidence from scratch, he’s built actual, physical muscle just to feel better about himself, he probably joined the military because it was his middle finger to the world. Yes, he had aspirations and actual passions concerning the sniper dream but he’s also driven by this need to prove a shitload of people wrong.

And in walks this babe who reminds him of a time when he was nothing. Absolutely nothing. How do you love that? Because ultimately, it means you have to love yourself and who you were before you became the incredible Austrian Hulk. At the core of it is a 6 feet deep insecurity because König doesn’t feel he’s worthy of her at all.

I think the only thing that would cleanse his heart from pain is the revelation that she suffered too. As sad as it is, that’s what makes his heart crack open because then he gets to play the savior. But then comes the “Do you still love me even if I almost turned into the monster I always battled against” part… Because König would pay her authenticity "generously" by revealing the bully he almost became. And I think that’s when high school sweetheart really needs to ask herself if she’s up for this kind of shit, if she’s actually ready to love this man who isn’t as cool and tough as she thought he was, who is deeply flawed and resentful and childish and cruel.

Part of her probably knows that already and even loves his flaws, but loving König is like loving that stray dog. He’s gonna bring fleas and dried-up mud into your house eventually. Especially if you feed him and give him a scratch… Put a nice, cosy bed for him by the fire... Tell him he's cute when he whines next to your bed... Teach him it’s ok to prefer to sleep with you instead :/

#he's a problem/rescue dog #character study stuff #könig x highschool sweetheart

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epicbuddieficrecs · 4 months

Text

Weekly Recap | January 1st-7th 2024

First rec of 2024! Happy New Year everyone! I hope it's a good one!

(damn, can you tell I was off from work? this rec is long af 😅 I know it's a bit late but once I got done I just wanted to yeet it off my drafts asap)

Complete

🔥 All My Shattered Oaths by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels/ @letmetellyouaboutmyfeels (Vampires AU | 107K | Explicit): Eddie wants to stay away from his family’s legacy and give his son a normal life. Buck’s desperate to find a way to get over the love he lost. Fate has other plans for both of them.

🔥 a blaze in the dark by woodchoc_magnum/ @woodchoc-magnum (Post-S6, Eddie Coming Out | 117K | Explicit): Set post-Season 6, where Buck has inadvertently sacrificed his friendship with Eddie in order to focus on his new relationship with Natalia, and is shocked when Eddie comes out to the team and subsequently reveals that he is dating a guy.

i'm down on my knees (i wanna take you there) by burnthatbridge/ @burnthatbridge (PWP, Glory Hole | 5K | Explicit): Buck is… a little drunk. So, he honestly thinks, when he first spots it, after stumbling into the stall, clumsily undoing his fly, and taking a very needed leak, that he’s seeing things. It takes him reaching out — with a hand he was already going to wash and probably should doubly do so now — and sticking a finger through it to convince him that the sight hasn’t been fabricated by his inebriated brain. It’s real. It’s a glory hole. His first thought is, huh; his second is, I have got to show Eddie.

making love to the flashes by sibylsleaves/ @sibylsleaves (PWP, Hot Firefighter Calendar | 11K | Explicit): When Buck had told them all the Hot Days, Smoldering Nights, Men of the LAFD Wall Calendar had selected him to represent the 118 for the month of July, Eddie hadn’t thought much of it. He’d congratulated him with a clap on the shoulder, laughed along with Hen, Chim, and Bobby’s good-natured teasing, and that had been that. Well, Eddie certainly isn’t laughing now.

with a bird at your door by @sibylsleaves (S6, Getting Together | 3K | General): Eddie starts spending all his time with Buck. Which would be fine if it weren't for the fact that Buck is in love with him.

we're gonna need some land between our bodies by @sibylsleaves (Post-Poker Date | 9K | Explicit): or, Buck and Eddie can't fuck yet (four times Buck and Eddie try to define the relationship and the one time they do)

my heart's a secret (tell me you'll keep it) by @sibylsleaves (Getting Together | 5K | Teen): Or, Buck tells Chimney a secret. This proves to be a mistake.

the winner takes it all (the loser has to fall) by @burnthatbridge (Getting Together | 4K | Teen): Buck and Lucy compete to see who's the better kisser. Eddie somehow finds himself the judge. (Part 1 of winner takes all)

the winner takes all (of me) by @burnthatbridge (PWP, Buck/Eddie/Lucy | 4K | Explicit): An alternative ending to Buck and Lucy's kissing competition. (Part 2 of winner takes all)

Calling (So You'll Answer) by Princessfbi / @princessfbi (Angst, Hurt Buck | 29K | Mature | Warning: Rape/Non-Con): “Buck? Did you drunk dial me?” Eddie did not envy Buck’s headache in the morning. He fought back the urge to smile at the thought of Buck, hungover and pouting with his curls in wild form on his head and his hands twisting and knotting in his favorite hoodie for the comfort the texture brought him. “Can you come take me h-home?” Buck asked, his voice sounding so painfully young. “I don’t …feel good.”

Smoke and Ashes Brushed Off with Ink by @princessfbi (Tattoo Artist Eddie AU | 18K | Mature): Tattoo Artist!Eddie Diaz AU inspired by the tumblr thread about praise kink discovery when getting a tattoo.

i'll lie awake for you by diazbegins/ @evanbegins (Married Buddie, PWP | 8K | Explicit): Or: Buck and Eddie, newly-weds, spend their well-deserved time alone.

I'd Wait Here Forever by @princessfbi (Angst, Stalker | 21K | Mature | Warning: Rape/Non-Con): “Come on. You and me could—” Buck caught Chimney moving to intervene between them but the words were already falling past Buck’s lips before he even realized he was speaking. “I have a boyfriend.” Buck stopped when he registered the words. So, did Chimney before he shot Buck a look over his shoulder like Buck had grown a second head. Probably because, like Buck, Chimney knew that Buck did not have a boyfriend. In fact, he’d been single for a painfully long time since he and Taylor split up. Single and probably very obviously hung up on his best friend who didn’t seem to notice the way Buck would throw himself into oncoming traffic if Eddie asked.

Tear Me to Pieces; Skin to Bone by @princessfbi (Undercover Mission, kidnapping | 22K | Teen | Warning: Violence): Bobby wasn’t comfortable with the LAPD wanting to use Buck as bait. Because that’s exactly what Buck would be: bait. Or: The LAPD want to borrow Buck for an undercover mission to hunt down a serial killer. No one is thrilled.

pink and black and blue by devirnis/ @devirnis (Getting Together | 1,5K | Teen): “Hey!” Buck calls. Eddie spares himself a moment to briefly entertain the idea of fleeing out the back, but knows it would ultimately be pointless. His truck is in the driveway so Buck knows he’s home, and they’re on shift together in two days and there’s no way his bruises will be gone by then, no matter how much he ices them. “In the kitchen,” Eddie answers resignedly. (Bad Things Happen Bingo: Black Eye)

on sleep and unspoken things by evcndiaz/ @evcndiaz (Post-S4 | 2K | Not Rated): “You reached out for me. On that day. You tried to touch me.” The words sink into the silence between them. He did, didn't he? Eddie doesn't remember much from the shooting—only pain, and fear, and screaming (his own and so many others), and the vague echo of Buck’s voice—but he remembers that.

in red blue green by hammersmiths/ @henswilsons (Documentary | 11K | Teen): The commissioner signs off on a workplace documentary set in the 118 to better community attitudes towards the fire department. Unfortunately, whatever is going on between Firefighters Buckley and Diaz is a much more interesting story.

with blood in my nose by @henswilsons (Canon Divergent, S4E14: Survivors | 9K | Teen): or, Buck is the one who gets shot instead of Eddie.

let me know you (bedhead and morning breath) by @burnthatbridge (Post-Lightning | 6K | Explicit): Buck hasn't gotten off since the lightning strike. Eddie watches him do something about it.

sometimes an onion really is just an onion (and that’s all there is to it) by snarkymuch / @snarkythewoecrow (Post-Grocery Store Argument | 5K | Teen): Buck wanted fajitas, so he went to the store for the sweet onions he needed, but he got the wrong kind because he unexpectedly ran into the team, which had nothing to do with why he was crying in his kitchen--obviously, the shitty onions were to blame. And his day just gets worse from there--as he ends up fileting off a strip of skin, bleeding everywhere, then accidentally hitting his talk-to-text and sending a ramble he never meant anyone to hear to the last person on earth to care: Eddie.

i find you in everything (but its here you find yourself) by withmeornotatall/ @chronicowboy (Post-S6, Getting Together | 3K | Teen): Buck takes another sig of beer, "she left." "Sorry, man, I know you liked her. Guess where most people are scared of death, a death doula is scared of life." "Wow, that's actually pretty poignant," Buck says. "Didn't know you had it in you." Eddie just rolls his eyes. "Its weird, though, her being scared off by a donor baby." Eddie frowns over at him. "Chris didn't freak her out?"

Paper Rings by buckleyblueyes (orphan_account) (Canon Divergent, S4 | 6K | Teen): Maddie went quiet for a moment, looking at him not with pity, but instead with empathy, and shared sadness. “So. What did you find, then?” “An engagement ring.” The words weighed heavy on his tongue. “He’s going to propose to Ana.”

Burn a bridge, learn how to swim by WatermelonShots (AvocadosUnderTheEaves) / @applesorcery (Getting Together | 13K | Mature): In which there is some unexpected making out, some pining, one third of an existential crisis and a lot of unhelpful advice. Not necessarily in that order. (Part 1 of Burn a bridge, learn how to swim)

Can't cross the sea just standing there by WatermelonShots (AvocadosUnderTheEaves)/ @applesorcery (Established Buddie, PWP | 7K | Explicit): In which there are sleepovers and snakes and some jealousy. (But probably not the kind you think.) (Part 2 of Burn a bridge, learn how to swim)

tell me how it feels (say it ain't so) by Iover_of_mine (I_almost_do)1 @lover-of-mine (Post-S6, Getting Together | 8K | Teen): Eddie hears Natalia saying Buck's death was cool and things spiral out of control from there.

Arm Candy by @princessfbi (Poker Date spec | 8K | General): “Act cool.” Buck shivered at the rumble of Eddie’s voice. “I think I got us in on the game.” Act cool? Act cool! How was Buck was supposed to act cool when he had Eddie dressed like sin parading Buck around like— Buck choked on his tongue as he finally realized what Eddie was doing and why apparently everyone had been so blasé about Buck going undercover after treating him like he was made of glass for weeks. “Am I the arm candy?” Eddie was damningly silent.

empty, broken, lonely, hoping by DaniWib/ @daniwib (Post-S6, Presumed Dead | 44K | Mature): Eddie's world crumbles when Buck’s apartment building becomes engulfed in a cataclysmic seven-alarm fire, resulting in a devastating mass casualty event. Amidst the chaos, Eddie and the rest of the 118 grapple with the heart-wrenching belief that both Buck and Christopher have met a tragic fate within the merciless inferno.

i lit the match, the firemen can do the rest by honestlydarkprincess / @honestlydarkprincess (Post-S6, PWP | 6K | Explicit): Or, the one where Eddie is pining and decides to drive over to Buck's. He doesn't expect to walk in on friends-with-benefits Buck and Natalia and he definitely doesn't expect the night to end with him getting everything he's ever wanted with Buck.

The Comfort of Your Hands by Spotsandsocks/ @spotsandsocks (Getting Together | 3K | Teen): Buck accidentally starts running his fingers through Eddie’s hair. Eddie lets him and things slowly move towards something special.

unfold me (tell me you love me) by extasiswings/ @extasiswings (S4, Love confession | 2K | Teen): Eddie goes on a date and has some realizations about what he really wants

the measuring contest by ColorMeParanoid/ @color-me-paranoid (9-1-1 LS S2E3: Hold the Line | 2K | Teen): Hen snorted from her own cot. “Trust me, guys. This isn’t the kind of measuring contest you want to play with Buck because you will lose.” But, comparing scars and exchanging crazy stories when meeting other people in your profession was basically a rite of passage so of course they didn’t take her warning seriously. It became a challenge instead and Eddie settled in for the show.

live while we're young by ashavahishta / @ashavahishta (De-Aging | 5K | General): Or: Some wonky magic leaves the firefam to take care of a tiny Buck for a few days. He's really, unfairly cute.

Radio Silence by madamewriterofwrongs/ @madamewriterofwrongs (Hurt Buck | 9K | Mature): Bobby was going to have a long talk with him about his self-sacrificing habits. For now, he kept his words calm and authoritative; for both their sakes. “None of that, you just hold still. Are you injured?” There was silence. Around him, the paramedics and firefighters of the 118 waited with bated breath. “Pretty bad.” There was little humor in his voice, though they could hear him trying. “My head. And uh, hahaha,” his laughter came as a gust of air. “I’ve been impaled?”

Buck Is My Warrior by elisela/ @elisela (Fluff | 5K | General): “We’ll be filming a special edition of American Ninja Warrior,” Troy announces after the introduction to the current contestant ends, “focused on our brave first responders. Go to our website to find out more details and how to submit your videos.” Oh. “Buddy,” Eddie says, “I don’t really know if that’s my thing.” Christopher looks at him, then says, “I want to nominate Buck.”

The Badass Background of one Evan Buckley series by Onlymystory / @theallandthemoreofit (Navy SEAL Buck | 5 works | 32K | Complete):

A Six Minute Man (Hostage | 3K | Teen): Or the one where Buck's secret background as a Navy SEAL comes in really handy in a hostage situation. Buck Begins (Backstory | 1K | Mature): When Evan Buckley Spencer is five years old, he wants to be a firefighter. They save people he says. He’s going to be one someday. One of the Good Guys (Revenge | 3K | Mature): Eddie says “You find every single person that hurt our son and you burn them to the ground.” - The Moscow Rules are simple. “Once is happenstance. Twice is coincidence. The third time is enemy action."

With A Little Help From My Friends by @extasiswings (PTA Eddie | 3K | Teen): Eddie makes friends outside of work and realizes that Buck might not, in fact, be just a friend

(Not) Under the Mistletoe by Tizniz / @tizniz (Christmas | 2K | Not Rated): Buck is definitely not avoiding Eddie at the Christmas party where mistletoe is everywhere.

Flash Forward by @daniwib (Different First Meeting | 3K | Explicit): The last thing Eddie remembered was pressing the tiny, blood smeared photograph of Christopher to his trembling lips while huddled behind rocks, hiding from the insurgent's attack. The next thing he knew was when he woke up, naked, with a muscular body on top of him. OR: Eddie has a flash forward when he gets shot during his last tour.

WIP

and we are homeward bound by glorious_spoon/ @glorious-spoon (established Buddie | 1/3 | 3K | Explicit): "Okay," Buck says finally, muffled. He rubs his face against Eddie's shirt again. "You promise you're not going to dump me if he smashes a salad bowl over this?" "I promise I will not dump you if our kid has a tantrum about us finally getting our act together," Eddie recites solemnly. Buck laughs against his shoulder and finally pulls back. Or: Buck and Eddie get around to telling the people they love that they're together. (sequel to Something Dumb to Do)

Kiss Me Once Cause You Know I Had A Long Night by I_still_dont_understand_13 / @sherlockcrossing (Prompt collection | 21/? | 14K | Teen): 100 kiss prompts.

Chapter 21. 10. Surprise kisses, in which your lover wasn't prepared but responds immediately

🔥 Precious & Fragile Things by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Small Miracles AU, Angel Buck | 10/? | 25K | Teen): Buck is the Fallen Angel of Petty Temptation, who has been tasked with tempting human Eddie Diaz to sin and enjoy life, but just a little. He thinks the job will be easy - get in, get out, go back to Peru to continue messing around with eternity. But when Buck arrives in Los Angeles, he finds Eddie is harder to tempt than expected, and more compelling than Buck had hoped.

and if i bleed (you'll be the last to know) by diazchristopher/ @captain-hen (Canon Divergent Season 6, Friends with Benefits | 2/18 | 9K | Explicit): or, an alternate look at season 6 where buck and eddie have been casually sleeping together since before the beginning of the season. somehow, this changes both everything and nothing at all.

🔥 Things We're All Too Young to Know by @cal-daisies-and-briars (Canon, S1 through S6 | 104/? | 283K | Mature): This is a love story. Even if it doesn’t always look like it. Even if it doesn’t always feel like it. A look back on Eddie and Buck's lives up to now, and what led them to each other, interpreted from the current 9-1-1 canon.

Re-Read

🔥 the weekly bet (but the forever kind) by theleftboobgrabber (Post S3E15 | 49K | Explicit): When the squad bets on how long it will take for Buck and Abby to get back together when she comes back to LA, Eddie is forced to reconsider keeping his feelings for Buck a secret.

🔥 come out to the sea, my love by allyasavedtheday/ @littlespoonevan (Canon Divergent - Tsunami | 8K | Teen): Tsunami au in which the 118 find out about Buck and Chris being stranded on top of the ladder truck and come to rescue them before they get separated.

🔥 Your Scars and Your Lonely Heart by Taste_is_Sweet (Sentinels AU, Tsunami | 82K | Teen): Clara Williams just wanted to visit Pacific Park during her layover in Los Angeles. She never expected to find a young, exceptional Sentinel dying for lack of a bond. Actually, what she really never expected was a tsunami, or the same Sentinel to save her life. But Clara's a Guide, so now she's on a mission to keep Evan "Buck" Buckley alive until she can get him to Eddie Diaz, the Guide who should have bonded with him, but didn't. Because Clara can't bond with Buck, no matter how much she wants to. There's just one problem: Buck's convinced Eddie doesn't want him, and he might not survive long enough to find out the truth.

i (for)get you by withmeornotatall/ @chronicowboy (Temporary Amnesia | 6K | General): buck hits his head, forgets the past month and suddenly eddie has a secret girlfriend... right?

you're my whole house by hammersmiths / @henswilsons (Getting Together, PTA Eddie | 12K | Teen): Eddie shrugs. “Christopher mentioned to Daniel that Buck and I are partners. I mean, sure, it’s a little weird that she invited him over as well, but—” “Partners,” Hen interrupts, “like work partners?” Eddie and Buck glance at each other. “Uh, yeah?” Eddie says. “What other type of partner?” Hen stares at them for a moment, before she bursts out laughing. “You dumbasses. She thinks you’re together.” or, Eddie joins the PTA.

I can't love you any more (than I do now) by wikiangela/ @wikiangela (Didn't Know They Were Dating | 2K | General): Eddie's pretty sure he and Buck are dating and kind of living together. Neither acknowledges it, until Eddie finally does.

Tell me where you wanna go by allyasavedtheday/ @littlespoonevan (Post-S6E11: In A Flash | 4K | Teen): Buck wakes up from his coma and Eddie offers him a passenger seat and a couch and a home.

🔥 Autocowrecked by HMSLusitania/ @hmslusitania (Miscommunication | 2K | Teen): Eddie is never, ever using the talk-to-text function on his phone. Ever again.

#epic buddie fic rec #buddie #buddie fic rec #buddie fic #buddie fanfic #buddie fanfiction #911 fanfic #911 fic #911 fanfiction

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