#I’m really not sure that’s the problem | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

eddiemunsonswhxre · 2 days

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whatcha thinkin about? / jj maybank

rated: m (18+, minors DNI)

masterlist

wc: 6.4k

cw: best friends to more, use of marijuana, explicit language, pet/nicknames, oral (f receiving), piv (protected), squirting, kinda some overstimulation, kinda fluffy too

after not being able to get relief in months, jj accidentally discovers this and has no problem helping you out.

you were so horny. you were laying on your bed with your best friend after sharing a blunt and staring up at the glow in the dark stars on your ceiling while music blasted through your speaker. and you were so, so horny.

how’d you get to this point? well, you hadn’t done anything sexual, not even with just yourself in months as your younger sister had to move in with you while her room was being redone. she moved out today, so after two and a half torturous months you were free to have friends hang out and do anything you pleased in your own room. when you told this to your friends, jj was the first one to offer to come over. you agreed instantly, he thought it was just because he was bringing a blunt for you to share and your favorite chips, but you really just liked being around jj.

jj was… almost perfect with you. his humor matched yours, dipping into the darker and dirtier side of things. he was extremely gentle with you, always taking extra care to make sure you were safe getting on and off the boat or making sure you always had water or a blanket or a snack whenever you needed. this was something he didn’t do for kiara or sarah but they didn’t take offense, they knew why. jj was also so easy to talk to. despite coming off as more immature and aloof, he was a great listener and good at comforting you and giving you advice. you gave him the same respect, but what you didn’t know was that you were the only one he would talk to about his feelings like that.

you liked jj, obviously. you found him to be extremely attractive and have more than once tried to hide your turned on state from him over a simple action. but you’ve never been this horny in front of him before. “whatcha thinkin about, mama?” he asks lowly, his words barely registering over adele’s belts. he moves onto his side, hand coming to rest on your stomach. he feels your stomach spasm underneath his palm but chalks it up to scaring you.

your eyes widen slightly and then you’re turning your head to avoid eye contact. “nothing,” you hummed.

“oh, don’t give me that shit, what’s going on up there?” he chides, moving his hand up to ruffle your hair before returning it to your stomach.

you narrow your eyes and reach to move your hair from your eyes. “seriously, jj, i’m not thinking about anything,” you groan. you want him to just drop it but of course he won’t.

he tsks and you wait for him to say something. instead, he begins tickling your sides. you yelp in surprise before you start giggling. you try pushing him away which only makes him move his torso above yours, hovering over and tickling your sides. your eyes are closed as you start laughing really hard and jj allows his eyes to wander. he hopes to mentally commit the image of your tits bouncing in your small tank top to memory.

you try and grab ahold of your strength enough to push him back and lose his balance. you feel the weed kick in and try to turn yourself over to get off the bed completely. jj doesn’t waste a second, grabbing your waist and forcefully flipping you on your back and crawls further on top of you. one of his knees falls between yours and you feel your breath shake through the laugh you couldn’t hold back. “jj,” you gasp through giggles.

“tell me,” he jokingly yells, moving to tickle your hips. you rock side to side while pulling your knees up trying to escape his touch, huge smile on your lips. your movement causes your skirt to ride up and jj knows if he looks for one more second he’ll be able to see your underwear. he looks away, partially regretting it, and pushes himself up farther. he pushes your knees back down as he moves, your knee grazing his inner thigh and causing him to bite his lip. he begins tickling towards your armpits, and you begin screaming with laughter. you felt yourself getting wetter every second. you couldn’t stop laughing, but internally your body was screaming with red lights flashing around you. the idea of him being so close to your core had you clenching around nothing, pushing some of your arousal into the fabric of your thin underwear.

you try squeezing your legs together but jj’s knee keeps them open just enough for you to not get any friction. tears begin filling your eyes from laughter as the wet patch on your underwear spreads. “what’s so important and secretive huh? so big of a secret you can’t tell your daddy jj?” he asks, using one of the cringey nicknames the two of you often threw around jokingly. but in this state, it just sent a wave to your core and a small gasp of a moan made it through your laughter. jj didn’t even notice your noises until he went to readjust himself over you and his knee presses against your soaked underwear. he froze in his place, feeling the warmth and wet of you against him, wet enough that he could feel both of your lips crushed against him.

you’re able to come down from your laughing as jj moves back, scratching the back of his head. “sorry about that, y/n,” he trails. you are absolutely mortified. the tears in your eyes turn to ones of pure embarrassment. you sit up pulling your knees to your chest, cringing as the sound of your pussy squeezing together fills the silence. jj gulps, using every ounce of control in his body to keep his dick soft.

“oh my god,” you mumble, embarrassed as you lay your head on your knees.

jj feels bad, he didn’t mean to make you embarrassed or uncomfortable. “it’s okay, y/n, i’m not like grossed out or weirded out or anything. i think everyone knows that that sort of thing just kind of… happens… even for no reason,” he tries reassuring, moving towards you slowly.

you shake your head trying to gather your thoughts. “i just- god i should’ve asked you to leave when it started i didn’t want this to be awkward.” you rant, raising your head slightly but refusing to meet his eyes. jj’s face changes as a lightbulb goes off in his head.

“ah, so you’ve been worked up for a while… is that what you were thinking about all that time?” he asks, a bit of slyness falling into his tone. you chuckle at him, glad that he could always change the mood of a conversation.

you wipe at your eyes before speaking, “yes, well, kind of, it just hit me that my room is just my room again.”

jj looks at you with slight shock. “please don’t tell me you’ve gone these entire like three fucking months without masturbating or something,” he says in a tone that sort of sounds like worry.

you feel your cheeks heat up, but know it’s probably not noticeable with how red you were from laughing and crying. “there hasn’t been opportunities,” you say with a shrug.

“fuck, y/n, i… i can’t believe that, i absolutely couldn't do that. i jerk off everyday- sorry- my point is it’s a part of our routines and not having that can be bad. shit, you should’ve asked to use my room,” he jokes at the end.

“to what? masturbate in your bed? no,” you laughed, relaxing more.

jj raised his brows and lowered himself to sitting on your bed again. “i would’ve done it all up for you, washed sheets, a speaker, water, whatever else,” he continues.

your heart tightens in your chest, pussy mimicking your action. “so kind of you,” you mutter, rolling your eyes.

“i’m deadass, y/n. it’s a tragedy you’ve had to hold out this long,” he says, watching with a smirk as you shudder slightly.

“can we not talk about me using your bed to get off?” you ask.

jj shrugs, moving closer. “i don’t know, can we talk about how wet you are?” he didn’t know if this remained in the gray area. he wanted to push a little and see if he could get you, but also wanted to stay where he could still manage to laugh it off as a joke.

your breath caught in your throat as your eyes met his. “jj…” you trail as some kind of warning.

“be so honest with me, did you only realize you could now masturbate freely in your room again or were you thinking about someone? maybe daddy jj helping you out?” his voice becomes huskier but he forces the teasing look to remain on his face.

you can’t stop the strangled noise that leaves the back of your throat, visions of his slim fingers sliding in and out of you with ease. “maybe,” you whisper, testing the waters jj had dragged you both into.

jj didn’t expect that answer, therefore in one moment he lost his ability to laugh this off if things went wrong and you backed out. “why don’t you come closer, mama? don’t want to have this conversation too loudly over the music right?” he raises his brows, gesturing to your speaker that was supposed to hide your conversations with jj from prying sisters and parents. “yeah, why don’t you just sit right on my lap here,” he says, reaching for your hips as you push yourself to move closer to him.

“y-your lap?” you stutter, his grip on your hips sending a throbbing heat to your pussy.

he nods, guiding you into his lap. your legs rest on either side of his, using your thighs to keep your core from his dick. “you trust me?” he whispers, looking at you with sincere eyes. he’d decided to just go for it. you nod apprehensively and he leans down, placing the softest slow kisses across your neck. a small sigh of content passes through you as a hand subconsciously finds purchase in his hair. “tell me exactly what you were imagining, what did you have me do to you?” jj mumbles against your skin.

you stay silent, partially in shock as his words absorb. you’re brought to reality when he pinches some skin on top of your hip. “oh-” you mutter, brain scrambling. were you really going to tell him this? “hands,” you spit out without thinking, “you could do things with your hands they’re… really nice to look at,” you try explaining.

jj chuckles into your neck causing you to wince in embarrassment. so smooth y/n… “nice to look at it? hm, i can only imagine all the things you wish they could do to you,” he says, his hot breath covering your collar bone as he still focuses on your neck. he’s getting lost in the moment, so lost that he can’t consider how bad the outcome of this could be. instead of a soft kiss, he licks along your collarbone slowly. you shudder under his touch, pressing your chest towards him slightly. jj takes this as a confirmation and attaches his lips to your skin, sucking harshly while his grip on your waist tightens.

you’re unable to stop the breathy moan that leaves your lips and your grip in his hair tightens. “jj…” you whine quietly when he nips at your skin.

he grunts, running his hands up your sides. “fuck, y/n… you don’t know how long i’ve waited to hear you moaning for me,” he admits. he has definitely gone past the gray area. he had sped away from it and there was no going back now as his cock grew hard underneath you. he pulls his face from your neck, yanking you harshly down so you’re fully sitting on his lap. you let out another small moan as you feel how hard his dick is beneath you and are unable to stop an experimental roll of your hips. jj closes his eyes at the pleasure, momentarily wondering how the fuck he ended up here. “are we doing this?” he asks quietly, opening his eyes to meet your glossy ones.

you bite your lip in slight apprehension. “i want to…” you say, trailing off and moving your eyes from his.

jj looks down for a second. “but…?” he asks, knowing you had more to say. if you didn’t to for some reason he’d accept that, but how was he supposed to see you again and not think of this?

“but i’m scared it could ruin our friendship, like make it… awkward,” you say, your hands falling from his head and shoulder to crack your knuckles, a nervous tick jj picked up on years ago.

jj’s hands move back to just above your hips, pushing away his thoughts regarding your soaked pussy being pressed against his cock only separated by your underwear and his swim trunks. “what would make it awkward?” he asks softly, not trying to sound sarcastic but thoughtful.

a huff leaves your lips, your pussy pulsing against him still undeniably aroused. “we think about it and regret it later, or it turns into a regular thing and just… i am not built for friends with benefits, jj,” you say, looking at him with worry in your eyes. jj knew why you said that, since knowing him, he’d had three different friends with benefits situations. jj maybank didn’t date and you knew that. only, if it was you, jj would. and he figured it might be time to tell you.

“who said we had to be friends with benefits? we could be… something else,” he suggests, struggling to put it into words.

you roll your eyes. “jj what does that even mean?” you groan.

his eyes flick between yours, trying to gauge your feelings. “you know, people who do those types of things but aren’t just friends…” he stammers.

“are you trying to say like… be together?” you ask, extremely unsure of yourself.

“yes, y/n, i want to date you,” he pushes out, embarrassment heating his cheeks. you were shocked at his confession, but felt nothing but excitement flood your body. you don’t waste another second, reaching to grab the sides of his face and you’re quickly crashing your lips to his. jj’s eyes flutter shut as his grip tightens and he passionately kisses you back. you moan into his mouth, your hips moving without your consent. his hands travel to your ass, using his grip to harshly push you towards him. you take the hint and continue grinding against him as the kiss turns sloppy. you’re barely able to catch your breath as jj won’t let you pull away that you’re both panting against the other. another wave of arousal floods your panties and jj swears he can feel it. this is what causes you to pull away from his lips. your foreheads rest against each other and your eyes hold each others gaze. “so,” jj starts, “are we doing this?”

you pull back from him and reach towards your phone on the bed. he watches you carefully, watching as you pull up spotify. you change your playlist, not necessarily wanting your first time with jj to be to set fire to the rain. jj smirks as a chase atlantic song plays from your speaker and you turn it up, hopefully loud enough to drown out any noises either of you would make. “you have a playlist for this?” he asks teasingly.

“shut up,” you groan, tossing your phone on your bedside table. jj chuckles and pulls your face back to kiss him.

his teeth latch on your lower lip, tugging it just enough to get a moan out of you. “i can’t wait to make it through every song on this,” he teases before reattaching your lips.

you pull on the hair at the nape of his neck causing him to let a small noise out of his throat. “mm, don’t think it’ll be easy,” you say, unable to stay off of his addictive lips long enough to finish your thought. “this playlist, is hours long,” you sigh into his mouth, feeling the head of his cock nudge your clit as you grind against him.

“you say that like it’s supposed to discourage me,” he says, pulling back and using his grip on your ass to hold you close to him. you squeal as you grip on to him to avoid falling as he moves himself to his knees. he leans down, carefully lowering you onto the bed on your back. “is your door locked?” he asks as he pulls back. you shake your head no and he gets up to do it.

“if my doors locked-” you start, pushing yourself onto your arms.

jj turns the lock. “then no one can walk in, you can make an excuse if they even notice,” he says, walking back over to you. “now, why don’t you just let me prove what my hands can actually do are better than your fantasies,” he teases, climbing back on your bed and between your legs.

“o-okay,” you say, head going dizzy with arousal. jj shuffles towards you on his knees, grabbing just below yours and tugging you harshly towards him. you yelp in surprise but he’s already throwing your thighs over his to rest on the outside of his hips. he lifts your skirt, laying it on your stomach and you shudder as the exposure to the air makes you shiver under your wet panties.

jj is uncharacteristically quiet as his eyes are trained on your pussy, his hands rubbing your upper thighs sensually. you squirm under his touch, whining in desperation. “so impatient, mama,” he teases. he moves closer, his finger trailing along the outer seam of your underwear. you whine again, needing any kind of friction immediately. “mm, i guess you’ve been waiting long enough today, huh?” he says, more to himself. you nod and he’s bringing his thumb to rub light little circles around your clit. you relax into his touch, lifting your hips slightly to meet his hand. jj is nothing short of mesmerized. you were so wet he could feel your arousal beneath your panties, some of it soaking through the fabric and onto his thumb.

your thighs involuntarily clench at the small movements jj’s making around your swollen clit and it causes him to laugh. “jj, please,” you whimper.

“i’m never going to get tired of that,” he says, pulling his thumb up and sticking it into his mouth. your jaw drops open at his action, watching his eyes close as he sucks any remnants of your arousal off his thumb. he pulls his thumb from his mouth with a pop and looks directly at you with a smirk. “or of that,” he says, moving himself back. “slight change of plans,” he says, resting his hands on your upper thighs.

you furrow your brows at him. “what do you mean?” you ask lightly, pussy throbbing at this point.

jj chuckles, hooking his fingers into the waistband of your underwear and moving them back and forth. “you’ve gotta let me eat this pussy, baby,” he says, watching your face closely.

“holy shit,” you whisper, hands coming up to cover your face. you couldn’t believe this was happening.

“yes or no, baby, it’s 100% up to you,” he mumbles, softer this time to reassure you you don’t need to do anything if you don’t want to.

you shake your head moving your hands. “god, jj, please,” you whine and jj can see the way your pussy clenches around nothing.

he smirks once more. “thank god,” he grumbles, pulling your underwear swiftly down, moving your legs up so he can pull them completely off and throw them somewhere on your floor. “take your top off, wanna have those pretty tits on display for me, okay?”

it takes less than two seconds for you to obey, sitting up slightly to pull off your shirt, quickly followed by your bra. you go to reach for your skirt but jj swats your hand away. “the skirt stays,” he mutters, pushing you down and his eyes scan your entire body. he glides his hands over your tits, giving them a small squeeze before continuing down. when he finds his eyes falling on your bare pussy for the first time he feels his cock jump under his shorts.

you watch him closely as he maneuvers himself to align his face with your pussy. you gulp in anticipation as he uses his thumbs to pull your lips apart, a hungry look on his face as he sees how your arousal literally glistens in the setting sunlight coming in through your window. he looks up to you, holding eye contact and lowering himself down with his tongue stuck out of his mouth. his tongue lays flat against your core as he drags himself up to lick a fat stripe up your pussy. your eyes close involuntarily and your head falls back onto your pillows. his tongue drags across your clit, causing you to clamp your thighs around his head. “jay,” you gasp out a moan, rather loudly.

“hey, you gotta keep it down. we don’t want someone trying to interrupt us, do we, mama?” he says in a stern almost warning tone that you hadn’t heard him use before. it had you clenching your thighs once again. you nod in agreement and look at him expectantly. jj can’t make you wait any longer, and honestly he can’t either.

jj’s tongue flattens against you once again, licking a faster stripe from your entrance to your clit. you bite on your lip as he repeats this action over and over again. the heat of his mouth makes you shudder. once jj feels you relax from this movement, he knows it’s time to switch it up. he adjusts himself, using his tongue to now quickly flick your clit. you have to cover your mouth to be safe as the knot in your core begins to tighten deliciously. jj can feel you clenching around nothing and decides to fix that for you. he moves his arm under him so he can slip a finger into you. you didn’t anticipate it, a shocked moan leaving your lips. his middle finger moves slowly in and out of you in contrast to the speed of his tongue. your moans become closer together and jj knows he’s taking you in the right direction. he removes his middle finger, momentarily pulling away from you completely to hook your legs over his shoulders, your heels resting on the middle of his back. the slight change in angle heightens the pleasure you feel as jj reattaches his lips to your clit. except this time he’s sucking on it and quickly enters two fingers into you.

your hands fly to his hair, chest heaving at how good he was making you feel. jj looks up, watching your breasts move with each heave of your chest as they’re squeezed together between your arms. the view was nothing short of ethereal and jj wished he could have a picture. he’d talk to you about that later… “jj, please, don’t stop,” you whine, pushing him further into your pussy. he begins switching between flicking and suckling on your clit and his fingers switch instead to curling inside you. “shit,” you moan, trying your hardest to keep it lower than the music which proves to be hard as the song switches from one to another. the sound of jj’s tongue against you mixed with the sound of his fingers fucking into you are sinful and it just adds to your building orgasm.

jj swears he could cum in his pants if he let himself relax, but he didn’t want everything to be over so soon. although another song had started, successfully drowning out the majority of your sounds, he could both hear and feel as more arousal began leaking out of you. “jj, i-i, something’s- oh fuck, somethings not right,” you try to say through your moans. you’d made yourself cum with your vibrator many times, and a few times a guy had managed to push you over the edge, but it never felt like this. jj though, couldn’t hear you. he was too caught up in making you cum and the sounds your pussy was making for him. “j- wait i- oh my god,” you say, your voice reaching a squeak at the end. jj looks up at you this time, not slowing his assault on your clit. your head falls back and the knot is the tightest it’s ever been, it’s almost painful. “i’m going to… ah shit- gonna cum,” you barely get out. jj speeds up his movements despite you not thinking it was possible.

your thighs lock around jj’s head, shaking as a way too loud moan of his name leaves your lips and your vision goes white. jj’s movements falter as he feels the vice grip on his fingers and them almost being pushed out of your pussy by a huge abundance of arousal. he thinks (or maybe doesn’t) quickly and moves his mouth lower, switching his fingers and mouth. he rubs quickly across your clit with his mouth hanging open near your entrance, tongue out ready to catch the harsh stream of squirt leaving your pussy. it’s so intense hitting the back of his throat that it causes him to choke a little. your orgasm begins to subside and he’s able to stop his fingers, instead moving to caress every part of you coated with your release with his tongue. he doesn’t stop until you're lightly pushing his head away.

he pushes himself up, looking down at the massive mess you had made before moving up and leaning over you. he brushes your hair out of your face, analyzing your widened eyes that seemed focused on nothing as you tried to catch your breath. you blink a few times, finally meeting his eyes. “you never told me you were a squirter,” he jokes with you, stroking your cheek to help ground you.

“i-i, i didn’t… i’ve never.. oh my god,” you say, pushing up a little to look down, wincing as you move your legs and feel how soaked your bedspread is.

jj moves with you, your admission feeding his ego. “so… you’ve never squirted before? you’re saying i’m the only one who’s made you squirt, ever?” he teases, using his hand to guide your chin to look at him.

you nod slowly, feeling embarrassed. “i- i’m sorry,” you say, not sure how you should be feeling.

jj looks at you shocked. “sorry?! uh uh, mama, don’t you dare be sorry. that was hot as fuck,” he says, stroking your jaw comfortingly. you continue to look away, replaying what had just happened in your mind. jj notices and leans down, putting his lips next to your ear. “let’s see if we can make you squirt around my cock,” he whispers, dropping his hand between your thighs to rub your sensitive clit.

“jj…” you gasp at the sensation, still sensitive from the intense from the orgasm you just had.

his teasing personality definitely carries into his intimate moments you realize. “awe, don’t tell me you’re gonna quit after just one orgasm,” he says, smiling at you before connecting his lips to yours. you whimper into his mouth, holding his neck and pulling him closer to you as his fingers rub slow circles over your clit.

your hands start to travel slowly down his chest until you reach the hem of his shirt. “off,” you mumble into his lips. jj smiles into the kiss, using his hand not on your clit to guide your hands under his shirt. you let your hands roam his chest before using your nails to lightly scratch downwards, eventually following his v line. once you hit the band of his shorts, he’s pulling away from you to pull his shirt over his head, tossing it behind him similar to how he’d thrown your panties earlier. you start to lean towards him, wanting to mark up his neck like he had.

however, jj stops your movements. “y/n, if i don’t fuck you right now, i’m gonna bust from just your touch and i really need to fuck this pussy,” he says, looking at you both serious and joking. you nod, returning to your previous position as he stands up and reaches for his backpack. he digs around in it for a second and you rub your legs together in anticipation. you’d dreamed about this for so long. and finally, on a random day, you finally get it. part of you wishes you would’ve done this sooner. yes it was unintentional, but maybe you could’ve brought up your feelings for him over the past so many months and this would’ve come so much faster. but, it was happening now and that’s what really mattered.

he pulls a condom from his bag and wastes no time getting rid of his swim trunks. your eyes fall to his dick, seeing that it was slick with precum. he quickly opens the condom and slides it on while your mouth waters at the slight. you wanted to taste him, wanted to feel the weight of him on your tongue. “don’t look at me like that… fuck. next time i want you sucking me dry, got it?” he whines before giving you an accusatory look as if he wasn’t the one who decided he just had to fuck you right now.

you just nod and watch as he puts his knee on the bed. “can i take my skirt off?” you ask, wanting to have a better view and it was soaked beneath you.

jj hesitates, he really wanted to fuck you in a skirt, but there’d be more opportunities. “if you’re more comfortable,” he says, nodding towards you. you quickly discard it and look at jj for further instruction. a pang of possession hits him hard in the chest when he sees the way you’re staring at him. “flip over,” he grumbles. you blink in shock but push yourself up onto your hands and knees. jj forcefully pulls your hips towards him causing your back to arch. he gently pushes on the back of your head until you follow his lead and he pushes your face into the pillow. “need you to moan into your pillow mama, probably gonna get quite loud,” he grunts as you move to having your arms crossed above you and your face on your cheek.

“cocky much?” you question with a smirk. it falls off your face when jj lads a hard smack on your pussy and you move away from him.

jj moves into the position he wants and grabs your hips. he guides his dick to slide between your folds, barely thrusting forward enough to graze your clit. “ready?” he asks, rutting against you.

you purse your lips before nodding, a small, “yes,” leaving your lips. jj immediately reaching for his dick and guiding it to your entrance. you clench in anticipation, jj smiling at the sight before slowly pushing just the tip into you. “fuck,” you whine into the pillow. he takes this as a good sign, slowly sinking further and further into you. you’re so wet, it’s barely a struggle to slide deep inside you.

“i love your pussy, holy shit,” jj groans as he bottoms out. you were so warm around him and the way you hugged his cock felt like you were two pieces of the same puzzle. not only did you taste good, you felt fucking amazing. jj’s mind wanders for a moment, thinking of all the different ways he can destroy your sweet cunt. but he’s brought back to reality the way you clench around him. he pulls his hips back as you squeeze him, the sensation on his tip making him concentrate on not finishing at that second. he pulls about halfway out before thrusting back into you. his thrusts aren’t very fast, working on the fact that he had to make you cum again. you moaned into your pillow as the head of his dick hit a spot that no one had hit before. you didn’t normally fuck in this position, having only really done it once before, so feeling this new sensation had stars swimming in your vision.

jj used his hands to guide your hips back on to him. he was able to go so deep his balls rested against your lips getting them coated in your arousal and it was driving him crazy. the wet sounds could already be heard pretty clearly between the two of you, the music doing its job at covering it up for anyone outside the room. it made you both hornier, and you were already feeling an orgasm begin to build. “faster,” you turned your head out of the pillow to moan quietly.

“faster? already, baby?” he asks with a smirk. he knew he could make you dumb on his cock. “you just really want me to cum fast don’t you?” he teases. you whimper in response and that’s all it takes for him to mostly pull his dick out of you just to slam back in. you let out a scream of pleasure into your pillow and jj can’t help but feel proud in that moment. he realizes you’re going to cum a lot faster than he thought and sets an unrelenting pace. the noise it makes is loud. the wet skin on both you colliding created a loud smacking noise and was accompanied by your bed frame rocking into your wall and the little noises jj was letting out. “need you to squirt all over me, cmon,” he grunts as he hammers into you. neither of you notice the speaker go quiet as it switches songs, the beginning of the next one having a quieter intro than previous.

jj leans over you, using a hand near your side to hold him up as his other reaches around to find your clit. “oh fuck,” you moan in the most pornographic tone that has ever left you. jj feels a spurt of cum leak from his slit at that and groans, speeding up his fingers on your clit. the way you clench so tightly around him and moan every time he thrusts into you tells him you’re close. maybe you just needed a few words of encouragement.

“cmon now, y/n, need you to squirt all over this dick so i know you’re all mine. hmm, yeah,” he starts, practically growling in your ear. “need to feel you cum while i’m deep inside your pretty little pussy. fuck, i fit so well. s’like you were made for me, this fucking cunt was made to get fucked by me. need you to come for me, right now, oh god,” jj grunts, struggling to keep up his pace and avoid cumming before you.

your moans turn into chants of his name as he feels the first drops of you escape down his cock. he anticipates you to scream, but as the wave hits you, your mouth drops open drooling against the pillow and your eyes roll back into your head. you’re spraying jj from the hips down basically with your warm squirt and through your silent spasming you don’t even feel him finish. jj slows down his thrusts, small streams of squirt still making it past as you continue spasming beneath him. he’s trying so hard to not fall on top of you and also catch his breath. he finally pulls out, a small gush falling out of you as your hips barely stayed up and you gasped for air. he pulls the condom off, throwing it into the trash and tries his best in his wobbly state to lower your hips onto the bed and straighten out your legs. jj shakily lays down next to you, looking into your widened eyes. “oh my shit,” you mumble, still out of breath.

jj smiles, resting a hand on your back. “there’s many more where that came from,” he winks at you. you want to make a smart ass remark but you’re still coming back to reality. jj’s hand rubs soothingly up and down your back as he notices you were struggling with coming down from your orgasm. “you’re okay, pretty girl. you did so good for me,” he coos soothingly. his words help ground you and once you have the ability to you reach out for him.

his hand grabs your forearm, pulling the upper half of your body towards him. you were both slick with sweat and your cum, but you didn’t care just yet. jj pulls you against his chest, yours pressing to his, and uses a hand to comb through your hair while both of your shaking legs intertwine. “thank you,” you mutter when you finally feel stable again.

jj snorts, “for what?” he thought you were about to say some stupid shit about fucking you too good or something.

you look up to him, “never been held after,” quietly leaves your lips. jj feels a small stab at his heart seeing how sad your eyes looked. he just brushes your hair back while he avoids the more insensitive questions, wanting to know how someone could not need to just lay with who they just fucked for a minute.

he doesn’t want to dim the moment, so he takes a different direction. “well, you know how it is with me, probably a little too touchy to begin with. remember all those times i ‘accidently’ touched your ass helping you off the boat? yeah, they weren’t accidents,” he admits with a smile on his face.

“i knew it,” you mumbled and cuddled further into his chest. both of you take a few minutes to just appreciate where you are with each other and bask in it. until the stickiness becomes too uncomfortable.

jj pushed himself and you up, wincing at the sensation of your sticky skin separating. “let’s get cleaned up, yeah?” he asks you. you nod, both of you shakily standing from the bed to head to your en suite bathroom. you grab your phone, turning your speaker down significantly causing jj to chuckle. he grabs his phone as well, looking at the top notification.

john b

hey man, guess you forgot we were all meeting up at y/n’s to go out at 8:30 to the beach. we decided to just go, meet up with us if you want.

a tip? close y/n’s window before fucking her next time, especially when trying too hard to hide it with the music.

#eddiemunsonswhxre #jj maybank #jj maybank smut #jj outer banks #jj maybank x you #jj mayback imagine #jj mayback x reader #outer banks #outer banks fanfiction #outer banks smut

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aestrayla · 3 days

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cherries or peaches? pt. 2 ft. obey me! datables

summary: do they prefer ass or boobs? ft. obey me! datables x f!reader

cw: HIGHLY suggestive, mdni, fluff??, pet names (sweetheart), fondling, groping, grinding/humping, semi-public but no sex, licking, stripping, MY HUMOUR..

word count: 1.4k

a/n: thank u so much for the love on the first part, im so happy to be able to write these hcs, they’re such a fun idea. i got a bit carried away and some of these turned into half-ish fics but i hope u enjoy this version just as much as the first ♡

diavolo loves ass. the end.

just kidding.

ever since arriving in the devildom, student council meetings had always been a bore to you. you were never able to understand the complex topics of the “worldly problems” discussed, which often led to you staring out into space.

but ever since you got close to diavolo, things had changed.

“keep it down, y/n,” diavolo whispered through clenched teeth, as he kept a beaming smile glued to his face.

you let out a peeved groan. how the hell were you supposed to keep quiet when he kept rocking you back and forth on his lap like this?

despite your squirming, his hands never left you as he pushed and kneaded at your ass under the table. his hard-on evident as it ground against your clit, eliciting hushed whimpers from your lips.

in many ways, doing this was beyond worse than just zoning out, one wrong move and the whole student council would probably never look you in the eye again.

to make matters worse, diavolo insisted that meetings can’t start unless you were up here, in his lap, at all times.

“dia, i can’t do this anymore,” you whimpered under your breath.

“it’s almost over soon, sweetheart. just a little longer ‘n then i’ll make you feel good, hm?”

it might not be obvious at first, but barbatos loves boobs.

hearing that he was the “greatest pastry chef in all three worlds” has always been something that intrigued you. it wasn’t until you tried them for yourself that you realised that this statement was far from being a lie.

it was only a few weeks ago that you asked him to teach you a few of his recipes, you had never seen so much delight in his eyes. “oh that would be great, y/n! i’ve always been looking forward to the day you’d ask me so.”

as you slam the door to the oven, a gust of the hot air blows against your face, “how long should these be in the oven for, barbs?”

“thirty minutes should be fine. do you mind adding some of that sugar over there into this bowl?” you set the oven timer to thirty minutes before scurrying over with a measured bowl of sugar, pouring it into the bowl of fresh cream.

“perfect, could you whisk up this cream for me while i go find the vanilla?”

“sure.” he hands you the whisk before poking his nose through the cupboards in search of vanilla.

as you were whisking, you let your mind wander. gosh, i can’t wait to try this when it’s done… but dang i lowkey wonder when he’s gonna let me in his pants already… a few wet splatters across your chest had snapped you back to focus, “oh shit— i spilt it on me!”

the clank of the whisk dropping to the countertop had barbatos rushing towards you.

“oh goodness me, you’ve made a mess!”

“i know… fuck i’m sorry. i’ll just get a tea towel and wipe—”

before you could finish your sentence, barbatos had stopped you. his body crowding up against yours as he leaned in. holding you by your waist, you could feel his kitten licks swipe against your chest, even reaching as far down to the cleavage of your boobs.

you started to feel hot and dazed as the sweet aroma drifted through the kitchen, while he started to suck harshly against your skin, fingers creeping up to caress you’re boobs. soft pants began to leave your mouth as his tongue worked across your chest, but before it could escalate any further, he had pulled away.

as he stepped back, wiping the corner of his lips, you were left completely flustered, “oh wow, the cream without the vanilla tastes really good, you might just have a talent for baking y/n!”

“uh-huh…” you muttered, staring at him dumb-found and wide-eyed.

simeon is secretly a big fan of boobs, so today was a big treat for him.

it was the weekend, he had scored a pair of free tickets to the amusement park, and of course decided to bring you along. it was a leisurely day however, the rides and attractions he decided to do were almost too tame for your excitement.

dragging him along, you spot an attraction that seemed to catch your eye. handing two tokens to the employee, you quickly rushed into the tank, simeon freezing, clearly stunned and confused about what was about to happen. “hey y/n, what’s going on?!”

taking a seat on the tiny platform you point to the target beside you, “can you hit a bullseye?” you winked.

the employee hands simeon a ball, “you’ve got three tries, buddy.” after a moment of hesitation, he throws the ball, hitting the center of the target with a loud smack.

you let out a small shriek before getting submerged into the tank of water. “oh my— Y/N!” simeon rushes towards the tank, quickly pulling you out from the water. you let out sharp breaths before giggling, “your aim is amazing!”

“is this your idea of fun?!” his hands reach up to hold both sides of your face, turning it from one side to the other. “you’re not hurt are you?”

you smile sweetly, flattered by his concern, “i’m fine simeon, it was fun, really.”

he sighs, “good, alright.” his eyes travel over your body checking for any scrapes before widening at the sight of your chest. the water had soaked your white shirt completely, revealing that you were wearing nothing underneath. your round nipples were perked up from the cold water while your shirt was clinging onto your wet skin.

gasping even louder than before, in a flimsy last-minute attempt to cover you up, he slaps his hands over each of your boobs and although it works in his favour, you couldn’t help but burst out laughing.

“don’t laugh y/n! we need to get you a new shirt, or at least a sweater!”

you pull him towards you by his collar, your lips mere inches away from touching, “so are you gonna help me take this one off first?” your purr.

his hands race to cover his reddened face, “w-wait that’s not what i—!” upon realising your boobs are on display again, he slams his hands back over them, “y/n!” he whines.

two hours in, and it was blatantly obvious to solomon that this tutoring session was going nowhere.

you weren’t understanding any terms or concepts of the topic at hand and with a week to go before your final, it seemed like solomon was more worried about this than you were. surely it isn’t because you’re too distracted sitting in his lap, right?

he clears his throat, “how about this…” you slowly lift your head up from the palm of your hands, clearly distressed about your upcoming failure. “for every question you get incorrect, you remove a piece of clothing.”

you raise your brows, intrigued, “and for every question i get right, you remove a piece of clothing?” you stare back at him.

“exactly, and for that answer…” he slowly shrugs off his blazer and places it behind his chair, “i’ll remove this.”

in hopes of this becoming a motivation for you, he began to quiz you with a mini questionnaire. “what are the three ingredients used to make the elixir of cerebral stimulation?”

you internally face palm because you knew jack shit about brewing potions, “uhhh… newt legs, unicorn hair, and frog mucus?”

solomon clears his throat ubruptly. “um, no. the correct answer is powdered unicorn hoof, bittergrass root, and caladrius blood.”

you look down in embarrassment before removing three pieces of clothing. only four minutes in and you’re left in nothing but your underwear and bra.

“last and final question, what covered the devildom when it was first created?”

“…darkness?”

“…unfortunately, that is incorrect. the correct answer is a forest.”

you groan. you haven’t gotten a single question correct and embarrassment was evident as your face was flushed. you turn to face solomon, “at this point, why don’t you choose what i take off?”

your pretty face staring up at him, teary and doe-eyed had him swooning. slowly standing up and pushing your back down onto the table, he stared deliriously at you. papers were scattered everywhere and textbooks were crumpled open. your legs were wrapped around his waist as his hands gently pulled the straps of your bra down your shoulders.

staring at your bare chest he murmurs, “i’m obsessed with these,” before diving straight in.

a/n: haven’t written in about 5 months so excuse how rusty my writing has gotten.. but nonetheless, thank for reading this far, luv you all ♡

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me headcanons #obey me fanfic #obey me x mc #obey me x reader #obey me x you #obey me imagines #obey me nightbringer #obey me diavolo #diavolo x reader #obey me barbatos #barbatos x reader #obey me simeon #simeon x reader #obey me solomon #solomon x reader #obey me hcs

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wafflefries13 · 1 day

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Go For It, Jamil!

Summary: Scarabia hears their Vice-House Warden has a crush and are a little too enthusiastic to help out.

AN: I really like the idea that the dorm mob loves their wardens and vice wardens. It makes me think of the tsum event where all of Savanaclaw was in tears because they thought Leona got turned into a little burrito plush, lol.

I got Omar and Babkak from the Aladdin Broadway musical. There's also a Kassim there but I thought it sounded too close to Kalim so just kept it to the two of them.

Warnings: Pining. Apparently I'm really into that.

Spring had come to Night Raven College. With the blossoming trees, chirping birds, and returning sunshine, one thing everyone could count on was Kalim’s annual Welcome Spring party. Of course, he also had a Welcome Autumn, Welcome Winter, Welcome Summer, Farewell End-of-School-Year, Beginning of School, Halloween, New Year's Eve and Day, basically anything party. The difference here was that there were generally more flowers.

“And we can have the cherry blossom trees around the entrance of the courtyard!” Kalim was saying. Jamil dutifully followed behind him by a few steps, taking down notes for the numerous things they would need to order. “That way when the wind blows the petals will swirl everywhere and it will be super pretty!”

“MmHmm,” Jamil muttered, only halfway paying attention.

“And I was thinking the food should be fruit-themed. Blueberries, strawberries, plums, apricots, rhubarb - is rhubarb a fruit? It’s sweet but it’s like celery, right? Cause it grows in the ground in a stalk?”

“It’s a vegetable.”

“Oh, and pastels! I can get bolts of silk and we can have them hanging from the ceiling in panels and string beads between everything.”

“Sure.”

“And it’ll be the perfect backdrop when you confess to (Y/N)!”

Jamil nearly tripped over his own feet. Both of them froze at the sound of a shattering pot. Looking up, Jamil felt dread build in his stomach as a wide-eyed first-year stared at the two of them, obviously having overheard Kalim’s (obviously totally ridiculous) announcement. There was a broken flower pot at his feet.

“I-Uh-” The first-year stuttered. “Sorry, I’ll get a broom.” He dashed off like his feet were on fire.

Jamil sighed. The last thing he needed right now were rumors swirling around. “Kalim, what are you talking about?”

Kalim blinked at the retreating student before looking back at Jamil with a beaming smile. “(Y/N)! It’ll all be super romantic, right? And spring’s a time for new beginnings. We’ll have a string quartet and I’ll set up a gazebo with hanging lanterns and you can take her hands and look her in the eyes and say-”

“Okay, okay, okay!” Jamil quickly said, clapping a hand over Kalim’s mouth before another eavesdropper got the wrong idea. “You have way to clear an image of all this.”

“Of course! I think it’ll make a great story for your wedding!”

Jamil heard a gasp. He turned just in time to see the first-year from before ducking behind the corner with another in tow.

Yup. There was the headache coming.

“Kalim,” Jamil said, measuring his words as steadily as he could. “I’m not going to confess anything to (Y/N).”

Kalim pouted. “Aww, why not?”

“Because I don’t have feelings for her.”

“What? Of course you do!”

“I promise I don’t.”

“Don’t worry, she’ll definitely say yes.”

“That’s not the problem here.” Jamil sighed. “Look, I get that you have good intentions, but you don’t need to go overboard and be involved in everything. We talked about this, remember? The whole thing about boundaries?” Actually, (Y/N) had mediated that conversation a few days after Jamil’s Overblot. Is that why Kalim had become convinced they had some sort of romantic attraction? Because talking about feelings must lead to the extreme of those feelings?

Kalim looked chastened, a certain wet puppy dog look that would make most people fold instantly. Jamil was not most people. “Right, I remember. I just…” Jamil waited for Kalim to continue, silently hoping he would just drop it. “I want you to be happy, you know? And I think you’d be really happy with (Y/N)!”

Jamil looked at Kalim sideways. “It’s more of a two way street, you know.”

“Well, yeah, but (Y/N) likes you too!”

Jamil tripped over his own feet again. He felt a strange kind of dread at the way his heart skipped a beat as a warm feeling flooded his chest.

“She-what-Where did you hear that?”

Kalim shrugged, smiling coyly. “I can tell. Just like how I can tell you like her.”

“I don’t,” Jamil said firmly.

Kalim held up his hands in surrender. “I hear you! Boundaries! I won’t mention it again.” He added under his breath, “Even if I think you two would be really cute together.”

“I heard that.”

Behind them, hidden in the long shadows of the Scarabia hallways, a cluster of students were beginning to plot.

The next day, Jamil was taking some time to relax between classes. Well, as much as he could relax. Mostly his thoughts were occupied jumping between organizing for the Welcome Spring party, creating a mental schedule of what school projects were do when, planning what he would make Kalim for lunch for the next week-

“Jamil!”

He turned to see (Y/N) waving at him. He felt his heart start thumping rapidly in his chest. Stop it, He thought. I can’t let Kalim get in my head like that.

“Hi,” She said, coming up to him.

“Did you need something?”

“Not really. Just saw you over here stuck in your own head again.” She elbowed him playfully. Jamil felt himself smile without realizing it and quickly schooled his features to a more serious expression. “Want to take a break? I snagged these cookies from Sam’s. Tomorrow’s the expiration date so I got them on sale.”

Jamil wrinkled his nose. “Is it worth it?”

(Y/N) shrugged, taking a bite of a cookie. “It’s in the budget. You know, whenever Crowley actually decides to pay me.”

“You know, if you’re ever short on food you can always come to Scarabia. If Kalim’s not throwing another party with a buffet I can get you something. I always make extras for Kalim, anyway.” This was not entirely true. Jamil had had practically his entire life to get used to cooking for Kalim, and it was only recently that he had started making larger batches, packaging them up to deliver to a certain magicless prefect who’s nutritional health he definitely didn’t worry about.

(Y/N) smiled and offered him the cookie bag. “You look after everyone all the time, don’t you?”

Jamil smiled back and took a cookie. They sat in an alcove in the hallway, chatting about nothing of significance. Jamil told a story about how Floyd had insisted Jamil teach him how to spin on his head during basketball practice and (Y/N) told him stories of her recent trip to Harveston, Epel’s hometown, and the sled race against the surprise Royal Sword Academy students.

Jamil saw movement out of the corner of his eye, but whatever it was disappeared before he could catch it. “Sorry, what did you say?”

“Oh, about the stuffed animals. Sebeck won’t admit it, but I think he still has his squirrel plush in his room. I don’t think it’s magic anymore but it is really cute.”

Jamil heard the drag of a bow on strings and looked around.

(Y/N) frowned. “Are you okay? You seem distracted.”

Jamil shook his head. “No, sorry, I’m fine. I thought I heard-”

Music started to pour around them. Although it was the calming, one might almost say romantic, type, they both still jumped at the sudden noise. Jamil jumped up, looking around, and took a hit of sunflower petals directly to his face.

“Omar!” Someone hissed. “Be careful!”

“Sorry, Babkak,” A voice squeaked back.

Wait, Jamil knew those voices. He whipped around the corner, seeing a group of Scarabia first-years. Several formed a string quartet, softly playing music. The other two had a bucket of flower petals, one of them throwing handfuls in the air while the other directed a zephyr spell to blow them across the hallway. The two froze with wide eyes at the sight of their Vice-House Warden.

“What,” Jamil said, voice steely and arms crossed. “Are you doing?”

The string players looked nervously at each other but continued to play. Omar gapped like a codfish. Babkak stood up straight with a confident smile. “We’re setting the mood!”

“What mood?” “For your confession!”

Oh. Oh, no. Now Jamil realized how he recognized them. Babkak was the one who dropped the flower pot yesterday and Omar was the one he had dragged with him to eavesdrop. They must have heard what Kalim had said yesterday about him and (Y/N) and taken the wrong idea. And, Jamil justified to himself, it was definitely the wrong idea.

“Jamil?”

Jamil turned so fast the first-years were momentarily worried about whiplash. (Y/N) stood at the corner, looking curiously at the impromptu band and flowers. Behind him, Jamil could hear them hastily whispering to each other to keep playing and trying to get the effect of floating flower petals just right.

“Something going on?” She asked.

“No!” Jamil said, perhaps a little too quickly. “They were just leaving.” He glared at the first-years. “After they clean this up.”

(Y/N) took a step forward. Jamil felt his mouth go dry as she reached up and plucked a few stray yellow petals from his hair. “Is this for a botany project or something? Kind of romantic, huh?”

Jamil felt his face burn with embarrassment.

“No!” Jamil said, at the same time Babkak said, “Yes!”

“Okay,” (Y/N) said, rolling closed the half-full bag of cookies. “Well, I should probably get going. I need to see what kind of trouble Grim has gotten into while I was gone. I’ll see you later, Jamil.” She waved to him and then the first-years.

“What made you think this was a good idea?” Jamil asked, trying very hard not to yell, when (Y/N) was out of earshot.

“Sorry, sir,” Omar said, dejectedly picking up flower petals. He glared up at Babkak. “I told you we should have gone for the romantic dinner. And rose petals, not sunflowers.”

Babkak waved his friend off. “Don’t be so cliche. Besides, sunflowers are way better! They’re pretty and you can eat the seeds!”

“Hey!” Jamil snapped. The two boys looked back up at him while the other first-years were trying to discreetly pack up their instruments. “I asked what you were doing? Did Kalim put you up to this?”

“No, sir, this was all us!” Babkak said, a little too proudly. “We wanted to help.” “Yeah,” Omar said. “We’re all rooting for you, Vice-House Warden, sir!” The other first-years made noises of agrement.

“Rooting for me?”

“With (Y/N), to tell her you love her!”

Jamil groaned, covering his eyes with his hand and rubbing his temples. “I am not in love with the Prefect.” Jamil missed the skeptical look the two gave each other. “Look, I appreciate the…vote of confidence, but I’m not going to confess anything to anyone any time soon. So whatever else you have planned, or whoever else you told this rumor to, you can give it a break. Understand?”

“Yes, Vice-House Warden,” They all echoed dutifully.

As Jamil marched away, Omar leaned over to Babkak. “I’ve got twenty madol that say he confesses before the spring party.”

Jamil’s muscles were burning, and he welcomed it. He needed the distraction after this morning and basketball practice against Floyd in full force was a pretty good diversion. Ace had been uncharacteristically distracted all practice. Although Jamil couldn’t help but notice that Ace seemed to pass a little harder than necessary.

During a water break, Ace came up to Jamil. He tossed his water bottle between his hands, taking a step away and then closer.

Jamil knew he would regret it before he even asked, “What’s up, Ace?”

Ace startled, surprised Jamil had made the first move. “I heard something,” He said. “In potions class today.”

“Did someone blow up something again? Anyone get turned into an animal or something?”

Ace pressed his lips together. “Do you like (Y/N)?”

Jamil couldn’t decide whether to be exhausted, flustered, or annoyed. “Who told you that?”

Ace’s eyes widened in shock. “You do?!”

“No!” Jamil snapped back. “People are just going around spreading rumors.”

“Huh?” Floyd asked, sliding over on the bleachers. “I thought everyone knew already.”

“Knew?”

Floyd flashed his sharp teeth. “Come on, Sea Snake. Everyone knows you’re, what’s the land term? Head over heels for Shrimpy.”

Ace dropped his water bottle and jabbed an accusatory finger at Jamil. “I knew it!”

“You don’t know anything,” Jamil said, shoving Ace’s hand aside.

“Oh?” Floyd said, leaning in a little too close. “So that means she’s available then?”

“No!” Ace and Jamil both shouted at the same time. Ace glared at Jamil. A few other members of the basketball club glanced over, snickering to themselves at the outburst.

Ace puffed out his chest, planting himself solidly in front of Jamil. “Look, (Y/N) is one of my best friends. And if you do anything to mess with her then… then…” Ace fumbled, running out of steam with his threats before catching his second wind. “Then you’ll have to deal with Jack!”

Jamil crooked an eyebrow. “Jack? Not you or Deuce?”

Ace shrugged. “Jack’s the biggest. But Deuce did used to be a delinquent. I’ve seen him be pretty brutal when he wants to. And I guess Epel can scrap up too, when Vil isn’t around. Probably couldn’t convince Sebeck to help out, he’d just lecture about a knight’s honor or something. Ooh, Ortho had a blast cannon! So, you know, watch out!”

“I like how you didn’t put yourself in the line of fire there, Crabby,” Floyd said. He rolled his shoulders. “But you know, I think Shrimpy is pretty great, too. I don’t want to see her sad or anything. So if someone were to maybe break her heart,” He glanced sideways as Jamil with crazed wide eyes. “Can you swim, Sea Snake?”

Jamil just glowered back at him. “Can everyone just stop talking about (Y/N) today?”

“People are talking about me?” All three of them jumped. (Y/N) walked into the gym, Grim hanging off her shoulders. “I thought I felt my ears burning.”

“Shrimpy!” Floyd immediately ran up to her, sweeping her up in a tight squeezing hug. Grim jumped off her shoulders with a yelp. Ace yelled and pulled at Floyd’s jersey, trying to pry them apart.

(Y/N) weakly patted Floyd’s back with a free hand. “Hi, Floyd, hi, Ace. Sorry, I need Jamil real quick.”

The two boys froze, slowly turning their heads to stare at Jamil, who was busy hiding his face in his hands. They watched like hawks as (Y/N) walked over to Jamil.

“Hey,” She said. “You okay?”

“Fine,” He said, waving her off. “Just one of those days, you know?”

She frowned. “You need me to talk to someone? I can chew out Ace if you want. Floyd is sort of out of my league, though.”

Jamil sighed a laugh. “No, that’s fine.”

“Oh! Right! Hang on.” She slung her backpack off her shoulder, reaching in and pulling out a familiar water bottle. “Here, you left this in the library. One of the Scarabia first-years found it and asked me to bring it to you.”

“Oh, thanks. I was wondering where it was.” Jamil didn’t mention that he hadn’t been in the library at all today. As he reached to take it, their fingers brushed. Jamil grabbed the bottle and jerked back like he had been scorched. His heart was hammering, not from the exercise of basketball practice, and he was momentarily worried (Y/N) would be able to hear it. Not to mention if she would notice how clammy his hands had suddenly become.

“Well,” (Y/N) said. “I guess I’ll get out of your hair-”

“Wait!”

The entire basketball team, plus (Y/N) and Grim, turned to the sudden outburst. Babkak had half way thrown himself out of the doorway entrance to the gym, hand extended in a Stop motion. Omar guilty peaked out from the door frame.

“Uh, I mean,” Babkak said, back peddling.

“You should stay!” Omar jumped in. “I mean, we should all stay to watch practice! Support your local team and everything!” He weakly punched the air. “Go team?”

Jamil opened his mouth to chastise them again before (Y/N) spoke, “That sounds fun. I don’t get to see you guys play too often. If that’s okay with you, though.”

“Oh, um,” Jamil stuttred.

Floyd jumped up, throwing himself over Jamil’s shoulders and smiling wide. “Of course you can stay! You can watch Sea Snake show off!”

Jamil elbowed him. “You’re the one who shows off, Floyd.”

(Y/N) shrugged, smiling. (And Jamil definitely didn’t feel his heart flip.) “I don’t have any plans.”

As everyone got back in position for practice, Ace took his place, whispering to Jamil, “Remember: Ortho has a laser cannon.”

Jamil rolled his eyes.

From the corner of his eye, Jamil saw the group of Scarabia first-years shuffle into the bleachers around (Y/N) and Grim. He thought he saw a few of them hiding objects behind their backs, but was pulled back to the game before he could investigate further.

He lost himself back in the game. Sneakers squeaked against the waxed wooden floor, the bounce of the ball reverberated around the gym, each quick and practiced movement by the players blurring at the edge of Jamil’s vision. Another player passed him the ball. He faked left, turning around Floyd, before lining up a shot at the three point line. He raised the ball, arms tensing in preparation to shoot and-

A blare of sound echoed through the gym, bouncing off the acoustic walls and tumbling down around everyone in attendance. The ball slipped from Jamil’s hands, falling uselessly in a pathetic arc and bouncing across the court floor. Jamil turned to the bleachers where the noise had come from. The first-years, Jamil now recognized them as the string quartet from earlier, now made up a brass band. The noise he had heard was the blast from a tuba. The rest of the band joined in, trumpets, french horn, and bugle. They started playing a high-energy marching tune. How many instruments did these people know how to play anyway? Omar and Babkak had red and yellow pom poms, waving them enthusiastically. Babkak passed a pair to a bewildered (Y/N).

“Go, Vice-Housewarden Jamil!” Babkak cheered.

“Show them who’s boss, sir!” Omar whooped.

Everyone froze, looking from the impromptu cheering section and band to Jamil then back again. Jamil’s face felt as hot as the Scalding Sands desert at noon. It didn’t help at all when Floyd started cackling.

He began to march over to confront his dorm mates, again, when a new echoing sound made him pause. (Y/N) had thrown her head back in laughter. She stood, waving the pom poms above her head.

“Go, Jamil, go!” She cheered.

Jamil was pretty sure he was going to spontaneously combust at any second.

The rest of practice had been a disaster. Every time Jamil got the ball the bleachers would erupt in noise, distracting him and everyone else trying to play. Jamil had never felt so off his game, fumbling the ball, bumping into his teammates, and losing focus at every moment that mattered, and most of the ones that didn’t, too. He purposely avoided turning in the direction of the cheering squad, partially because he wanted to discourage whatever activities the first-years were insistent on doing, and partially so he didn’t have to see (Y/N) cheer for him so enthusiastically. (And, maybe, so she wouldn’t be able to see how flustered he was becoming with every second.)

A teammate had patted Jamil’s shoulder in sympathy as they headed to the showers after practice. “Don’t worry,” He said. “I bet she still likes you.”

Jamil resisted the urge to punch him.

Now, at least, he was back in a rhythm of something he knew how to do: cooking. Ever since his stint in the Culinary Crucible, the ghost chefs had tapped him and a few other stand out cases to help out in the kitchen every once and a while.

The kitchen filled with the scent of roasting spices and sizzling meat, spilling out into the cafeteria sitting area. Students had started lining up way before the kitchen officially opened to secure their plate of Jamil’s cooking. Jamil felt the tension melt out of his shoulders, much like the butter in the pan he was currently using, as he fell into his familiar rhythms.

“Thanks again for your help,” One of the ghost chefs said, floating by with a steaming bowl of freshly made turmeric rice.

“Not a problem,” He replied. “It gets me out of my own head.”

“Oh?” Another ghost asked. “Having troubles, youngster?”

“Girl troubles, maybe?” Another snickered.

All the ghosts jumped as Jamil brought down a butcher knife to decapitate a fish. They collectively decided it was maybe best to drop the topic, already deceased or not.

“Ah, Jamil, chef, sir?” A student volunteer said, warily eyeing the butcher knife. “Someone was having an issue with their meal. They wanted to talk to you.”

So much for his relaxation. Jamil quickly let the others know what to keep an eye on in the kitchen and headed out to the main sitting area. He scanned the tables. It looked like everyone was enjoying their food as far as he could tell. He looked back into the window of the kitchen. The volunteer student pointed at a table near the back by a window. He was about half way across the room when he realized that the student was a Scarabia student, a first-year in fact. And, now that he thought of it, he didn’t think he had seen that student in the kitchen before he had come to talk to Jamil.

Jamil froze, seeing exactly who was sitting at the indicated table. This was a set up. He turned around to go back, only to be stonewalled by two now very familiar Scarabia students.

“Hello, sir!” Omar chirped.

“Taking your dinner break?” Babkak asked. “Great! We have the perfect table for you.”

They both hooked their arms around Jamil’s and practically dragged him over to the table where (Y/N) and Grim sat.

“Oh, hi,” She said, blinking at the surprise arrival. Jamil felt his throat tighten and couldn’t formulate a response.

The musically talented first-years descended to the table, quickly picking up her plate of food to whisk a tablecloth over the table, setting down a candelabra which was quickly lit, and a vase with a dozen roses.

“Roses,” Omar whispered to Babkak with a sly smile. Babkak rolled his eyes. The two shoved Jamil into a seat opposite (Y/N). A plate of food was set in front of him. The sneaky Scarabia student from the kitchen grabbed Grim, shoving a plate of tuna tartare in his paws before he could protest. Then, the group of wannabe restaurateurs vanished as quickly as they had appeared. The two left at the table, Jamil and (Y/N), looked at eachother with confusion. Jamil dropped his head to stare intently at his plate, stabbing at the sayadieh with his fork.

“Hey,” Jamil was jerked out of his thoughts by (Y/N)’s voice. “I wanted to apologize for earlier, at practice. It looked like we were a pretty big distraction.”

“You don’t need to apologize,” Jamil said. “It wasn’t your fault.” He glared at the first-years eagerly watching from a table a safe distance away.

“Yeah, but still, I don’t need to make your life any harder.”

Jamil looked up at her. She was twirling her spoon around the tabouli, eyebrows furrowed in deep thought. “You don’t make my life harder,” he insisted. “In fact, you’ve made a lot of things easier. My relationship with Kalim is a lot better now, for one thing.”

She smiled at him, and his heart definitely didn’t skip a beat. “Well, glad I can help, then. But don’t sell yourself short. You’ve been doing a lot of work since everything that happened.” She waved her hand, regarding the invisible thing they both understood. It was still hard to talk directly about his Overblot, the manipulation, abuse of magic, and kidnapping aside. (Y/N) had told him she wanted to give him space for it, to consider how he felt and talk to others at his own pace, but still trying to address the root of the issues. That was when she had started organizing those sessions between her, Jamil, and Kalim, giving them a place to directly talk with each other without outside pressures and influences, helping them work things together as friends instead of the master/servant role Jamil so often felt himself confided to.

“This is great, by the way,” (Y/N) interjected, scooping up a mouthful of tabouli. “I can always tell when it’s your cooking. Thanks for those leftovers the other day. I know Grim really likes them too.”

“Oh, yeah, of course,” He said. He didn’t say, “I didn’t make it for Grim. I made it for you.” He blanched at the intrusive thought and snatched up his water glass, taking a large gulp and trying not to choke.

“You sure you’re okay?” (Y/N) asked. “You’ve seemed kind of on edge all day.”

“I’ll deal with it later,” Jamil said, looking over at the first-years who started enthusiastically nodding and giving him thumbs-up.

(Y/N) drummed her fingers against the table. “Listen, actually, there’s been something I’ve been wanting to talk to you about-”

“Lgeimat!” Jamil shouted.

She blinked at him. “Sorry?”

“The lgeimat! I left them in the fryer! Sorry, have to go, have a good night!” Jamil shot up and zipped back to the safety of the kitchen.

“I didn’t know we were having lgeimat tonight,” Omar said from their spying perch.

Babkak thudded his head on the table at their third defeat. “We’re not.” He grumbled.

Jamil collapsed on the low couches in the Scarabia common room, arm flung across his face to cover his eyes from the late evening light. The day felt like it went on forever. Jamil had caught himself constantly looking over his shoulder, jerking at every unexpected sound, in anticipation of an over eager group of first-years.

“Hi, Jamil-Oh,” Kalim stopped himself, looking over at his drained friend. “You okay?”

Jamil sighed in response. “Long day.”

“Oh.” Kalim sat down next to him. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Jamil peered out from under his arm at Kalim. At least that was one improvement, again, thanks to (Y/N) specific intervention. Kalim had slowly been teaching himself not to jump to conclusions or take it upon himself to fix everything by throwing money or extravagance at it, but by taking the time to hear other people, namely Jamil, out first. Of course, that didn’t mean he wouldn’t throw money or extravagance at the problem in the end, but progress was progress.

Jamil gave Kalim a halfhearted glare. “It’s all thanks to that rumor you started.”

Kalim blinked. “Rumor? Oh, you mean about how you’re in love with-”

“Yes!” Jamil cut him off, sitting bolt upright. “That! Some first-years heard you the other day and have been following me around, trying to start up some grand romantic gesture.”

“Oh, yeah, I heard about that. I think it’s sweet.”

“Sweet?”

“That everyone believes in you! Everyone knows how hard you work. We all want to see you happy and with the person you love.”

Jamil stood. “Kalim, I’m not-”

“Nope.” Kalim said shooting up. He put his hands on the taller boy’s shoulders, forcing him to meet his eyes. “You’ve been different ever since winter break. You smile more when (Y/N)’s around. You’re not so tense all the time. And whenever we’re in a group, like at the cafeteria or dorm meetings or parties, you’re always looking for her. And when you see her your whole face just lights up! Do you know how often you talk about her? It’s a lot, Jamil! ‘Oh, I wonder what (Y/N) would think about this. Do you think (Y/N) has that in her world? Do you think (Y/N) likes spicy or sweet food? Do you think (Y/N)’s doing okay at Ramshackle? Do you think she needs help with any repairs like when we stayed there during VDC training? (Y/N) sure works real hard to catch up with a whole new culture. Do you think (Y/N) would want this extra curry?’”

“I don’t sound like that,” Jamil protested weakly.

Kalim sighed, hands on his hips. “I’ve known you my whole life. I know what you’re like when you’re mad, I know what you’re like when you’re sad, I know what you’re like when you’re happy, and now I know what you’re like when you’re in love.”

Jamil pushed back. “I’m not in love with her!”

“Yes, you are!”

“I’m not-” Jamil cut himself off. He felt suddenly dizzy. He sat down hard. “Oh, I’m in love with her.”

Kalim threw his hands in the air. “Yes! Thank you! Finally!”

“But,” Jamil continued, and Kalim tried really hard to keep his frustration to himself. “I can’t tell her that. I can’t… put that kind of pressure on her. She has enough going on with Grim and Ramshackle and trying to find a way home and… Sevens, she’s going back home, Kalim! I don’t know when or how, but she won’t even be in this universe! And what, I’m just supposed to show up and dump this emotional baggage on her when she already has everything else to worry about?”

Kalim sat down next to Jamil. He twirled his fingers together, trying to collect his thoughts. Why was it always so hard to know the right thing to say? “You said feelings were like a two way street yesterday, remember? So don’t you think (Y/N) should have a say too?”

“Kalim, I can’t-”

“Yes you can!” Kalim shouted, jumping up and clapping his hands. “You’re Jamil Viper! If anyone can do it, can do anything, it’s you! And keeping everything bottled up isn’t fair to you or her or anyone. So-So-” Kalim frowned, trying to look stern, a very strange expression for the normally boisterous boy. “So go tell her how you feel right now, and let her decide what happens next! That’s an order as your house warden!” Kalim flinched. “Please.”

Jamil stared at him for just a second too long, making Kalim squirm with worry that he had gone too far. Then, Jamil sighed, resigned, a half smile on his face. “Well, if my house warden is ordering it, how can I say no?”

Despite what he had told Kalim, Jamil dreaded every step towards Ramshackle dorm. Even with the ‘order’ from his house warden, Jamil considered turning back. Instead, with each uncertain step, he plotted out exactly what he would say. Was it just as simple as ‘I have feelings for you?’ Should he have some grand gesture ready? Absolutely not. Those first-years had spoiled that concept for him.

Before he realized it, Jamil was walking up the pathway to the dilapidated dorm. He stood at the front step, fist up ready to knock. It hovered there. A plan, he still needed a plan. He couldn’t just walk in without a plan of what to say, what to do. He’d had the entire walk over here, how had he not come up with a more solid idea?

The door snapped open in front of him, Grim hurdling out, crashing into Jamil’s chest. “What-? Oh, hey!” Grim said, rubbing his head at the bump then cracking into a wide smile at the sight of Jamil. “Did you bring us dinner again?”

“Uh, no, not this time,” Jamil said, already thrown off.

Grim frowned. “Meh, whatever. I’m going to Sam’s anyway to get some tuna.”

“Milk and eggs!” (Y/N)’s voice called from inside. “You’re getting milk and eggs! And oranges if they have any.”

“That too!” Grim said. He winked then sped off down the path.

(Y/N) appeared at the doorway, clearly having sprinted to catch the dire beast before he left. “Grim, I said we don’t have the budget to- Oh, he’s gone. Right, sure, why not?” She sighed. “Hi, Jamil.”

Jamil swallowed hard. “Should I come back later?”

(Y/N) waved the idea off. “No, it’s fine, you’re already here. Come on in.”

Jamil followed her into the dorm to the sitting room just past the entrance hall. Despite the age and wear of the building, it was clear that (Y/N) had taken a lot of pride in fixing it up and keeping everything in order.

“Sorry, I was in the middle of doing dishes,” (Y/N) said, whipping her wet and slightly soapy hands against her skirt. “Go ahead and take a seat, I’ll get some tea and snacks.”

“It’s fine,” Jamil said, quickly standing back up after having just sat down on one of the overstuffed couches. “I know where everything is, I’ll get it.”

“No, no, you’re a guest. Take a break, I’ll get it.”

“It’s fine really. I’m sure Crowly has been keeping you busy all day.”

“And you’re just as busy. Don’t worry, I’ll take care of it.”

“No, really, I-”

“Jamil!” Jamil jumped at her sudden outburst, his hands frozen in the air. She huffed and put her hands on her hips. “Honestly. You take care of everyone else all the time. Let me take care of you for once.”

Oh no. Oh no.

“Now sit down while I go make some tea.”

He sat down. This was worse than he thought. He really was in love.

She wanted to take care of him. Of him. When was the last time someone offered to take care of him, to lighten his load, to take responsibility for the burden? For as long as Jamil could remember that had been his job, his life. Kalim, Najma, his parents, the Scarabia students, everyone and everything. It was like he didn’t realize just how tired he was until (Y/N) offered to help. Why did her snapping at him just now make him feel so relieved?

Almost without thinking about it, Jamil’s feet took him into the kitchen. (Y/N) was standing at the stove, setting down a heavy teapot on the burner. She was mumbling to herself about something, Jamil couldn’t really hear what. His ears were ringing.

(Y/N) noticed that Jamil had come into the kitchen, turning to face him. She frowned, eyebrows knit together. “Jamil, I told you that - Oh!”

Ignoring his anxiety, ignoring that nagging thought that he didn’t have a plan, ignoring the churning nervousness in his stomach, Jamil pulled (Y/N) into a tight hug, burning his face in her hair.

“I like you,” He said, so softly that he had to repeat himself to make sure she heard, to make sure she understood the depth of his feelings. “I like you. I think I might even- I feel better when I’m with you, like I can be better. I don’t feel like everything I’ve done up until now is just in service to someone else, because all of those things lead me to meeting you. I feel like I can think clearly, that I don’t always have to be on alert. I want to take care of you, I want to be with you, I want us to be together. And I know - I know I’ve done horrible things in the past, I know you’ve seen me at my lowest. But you still see me, me, not anything else. Not the servant, not the diplomatic aid, not the Overblot monster- How could I not fall in love with you? So, (Y/N), please. I just - please.” He wasn’t quite sure what he was asking ‘please’ for, he only hoped she would understand.

(Y/N) trailed her fingers along his back, threading through his long hair. She pulled back, as much as Jamil’s embrace would allow. The corners of her eyes were dotted with tears. “Jeeze, Jamil,” (Y/N) said. “Way to steal my thunder. I wanted to say it first.”

Jamil let out a cracked laugh, tears welling up in his own eyes. “You did?”

(Y/N) hiccuped, laughing. “Yeah, of course. I thought I was being kind of obvious with it. I finally decided to suck it up and tell you at dinner earlier, but you just ran away so I thought you knew what I was going to say and didn’t feel the same.”

“Sorry, I guess I was nervous. And those first-years all day…”

(Y/N) laughed out loud. “I was wondering what was up with that. Was that Kalim or something?”

“For once, no. They took it upon themselves to try and set us up.”

“Aww, they care about you.” She hugged him close. “And I can see why.”

That weekend, it was finally time for the Welcome Spring party, and there were, indeed, more flowers than usual. Kalim was flitting around, making sure everything was organized and where it needed to be. Jamil had asked if he could leave for the morning, coming back when it was time for the party to start. And, even though he had been the one to ask for the time off, Jamil had double checked that it was okay with Kalim no less than a dozen times before he actually left. Kalim insisted repeatedly that he would be fine, that he had a handle on everything. And, maybe, for the most part he did. It definitely helped that Jamil had assigned tasks to several other dorm members the night before to make sure Kalim didn’t get too overwhelmed.

Just as the golden hour set in, magical floating lanterns bobbing along in the air amid swirling flower petals, the guests started to arrive. Kalim had sent out a recommended dress code ahead of time, requesting pastels, whites, and gold. Something to fit in with the refreshing and floral mood he wanted to create. Mostly, he was happy to report, everyone was able to follow the requirements. Heartslabyul students especially were rigidly adhering to the dress code under the watchful eye of their house warden. Most of them wore pinks, as it was the required color when taking care of the dorm flamingos so they already had something that would fit the theme. Savannaclaw didn’t much stick to theme, but had tried to comply with sticking puffy peony blossoms through belt loops or behind their ears. Octavinelle wore light blues and corals, studded with shimmering scales, pearls, and other bits of underwater flora. Scarabia, of course, as the hosts, were the most bejeweled, taking inspiration from the fairy gala that had inadvertently plunged the campus into chaos, but also resulted in beautiful flowing white and gold garments. Pomfiore stayed mostly in lavenders and lilacs, highlighted by golden embroidery in fantastic scenes and shapes. Ignihyde, for those who did show up, dug out whatever was the lightest color in their wardrobe, mostly staying in light blues. Similarly, no one was expecting much from the usually dour-toned Diasomnia. But, not wanting to create a social fopaux at one of the few events he had received an invitation to, thanks to (Y/N) reminding Kalim to expand his guest list at the last minute, Malleus had ensured that all his dorm members wore mint and emerald green with gold dotted throughout.

There was a noticeable absence of two usually prominent figures, but Kalim assured everyone Jamil and (Y/N) would be arriving soon. And, although Jamil had tried to slip in quietly while everyone’s attention was focused on the dance floor for an aerial ribbon performance, Kalim’s squeal of delight quickly diverted everyone’s attention. Jamil held in a groan as attention whirled to him and (Y/N). They both wore outfits from the fairy gala, meticulously designed and created by Professor Crewel. She squeezed his hand in support, dragging him further in, head held high while ignoring the stares. A few Scarabia students gave congratulations, thumping Jamil’s back as he passed. Ace caught Jamil’s eye from the other side of the room. He pointed to Ortho, who was waving excitedly, and drew a finger across his throat. Jamil rolled his eyes.

As the aerial dancers finished, (Y/N) drew Jamil to the dance floor. As a band kicked up (seriously, how many instruments did those Scarabia students know how to play?), (Y/N) wrapped her arms around Jamil’s neck as he placed his hands on her hips. He really hoped she wouldn’t notice how sweaty his palms had gotten.

“You’re nervous,” (Y/N) said. “I’m not used to seeing you like that.”

“I’ve just never really done this before,” Jamil said. “Not dancing, I’ve done that plenty. Just the whole relationship thing. I never really had a chance before. I don’t want to mess this up.”

“I think you’ve been doing pretty good so far.”

Jamil smirked. “It’s been two days.”

“Well, see? You’re gaining experience already.” She leaned forward, placing her head on his chest. “I’m nervous, too, you know. Not about this. I’m really confident how I feel about you, and I want to stay with you for as long as I can. I mean about everything going on around us. There’s a lot of unknown. Technically, you know, I don’t even exist. Don’t have any papers like a birth certificate or passport or even a valid nationality. But I know I have great people helping me out, including you. And knowing they’re on my side, it helps make things a little better. And I’m on your side. So everything will work out, you know?”

Jamil hummed. Lowley, in a quiet voice so he could dismiss it if she didn’t hear him, he asked, “Can I kiss you?”

(Y/N) looked up at him, smiling, eyes twinkling. “I’d like that.”

Off to the side, behind a bolt of silk cloth, Babkak handed Omar a 20 madol note.

#wafflefriesfic #fanfic #twisted wonderland #twst #twisted wonderland x reader #x reader #jamil x reader #jamil x yuu #jamil viper x reader #jamil viper #fan fiction

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estellan0vella · 3 days

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What Goes Up, Must Come Down ❀ includes: Gojo, Geto, Nanami, Choso, Sukuna & Toji (REQUESTED) Masterlist

You lean in for a goodbye kiss, expecting a quick peck. Instead, Gojo Satoru pulls you in, kissing you deeply and passionately. You finally pull away, breathless. "See you later," you murmur, heading out the door.

As soon as you're gone, Gojo looks down and realizes he's in trouble. "Oh no," he mutters, staring at the obvious bulge in his pants. He has a meeting with the higher-ups in ten minutes, and he can’t show up like this.

He paces around the room, chanting, "Icebergs, taxes, Yaga in a tutu, Gakuganji in panties." Nothing works. He tries doing some jumping jacks, but that only makes things worse.

Desperate, he grabs a cushion from the couch and places it strategically over his lap, attempting to meditate the problem away. "Breathe in, breathe out," he tells himself.

But his mind keeps drifting back to the electrifying kiss you shared just moments ago, and his body responds accordingly. Gojo curses under his breath, realizing he's running out of time.

With a last-ditch effort, he splashes cold water on his face, hoping the shock will jolt him back to reality. It helps a little, but not enough. Gojo considers canceling the meeting altogether, but that would only raise suspicions.

Finally, after what feels like an eternity, the problem subsides. He quickly grabs his coat and heads out the door, hoping no one notices his flushed face or the slight disarray of his clothes.

You’re not sure why you decided to kiss Suguru so fervently this morning, but the moment your lips touch his, something ignites. Your hands tangle in his dark hair, pulling him closer, deepening the kiss. When you finally pull away, his pupils are dilated, breath coming in short gasps.

“Wow,” he mutters, clearly affected. You glance down and see the prominent bulge in his pants. He shifts uncomfortably, running a hand through his hair. “Uh, I might need a moment.”

You chuckle, feeling a bit proud of the effect you have on him. “I didn’t think I’d get you this worked up.”

He gives you a lopsided grin, a slight blush coloring his cheeks. “Well, you did. Now what?”

You look around and spot a nearby chair. “Sit down, relax for a bit. I’m sure it’ll pass.”

Suguru nods, taking a seat and trying to focus on anything but his current predicament. You watch him, amused, as he fidgets, crossing and uncrossing his legs.

“You know,” you say teasingly, “you could think about something unsexy. Like… taxes.”

He raises an eyebrow at you. “Taxes? Really?”

“Hey, it works for some people.”

Suguru sighs, leaning back in the chair. “I’ll give it a try, but no promises.”

You sit across from him, trying not to laugh as he closes his eyes, clearly attempting to will his arousal away. After a few minutes, he opens one eye and looks at you. “Any luck?”

“Not really. Thinking about you makes it worse.”

You smile sweetly. “Sorry, not sorry.”

He groans, throwing his head back in frustration. “You’re going to be the death of me.”

“Only if you’re lucky,”

Nanami is composed, always so composed. But when you kiss him like that, really kiss him, you see his carefully maintained facade slip just a bit.

“Darling,” he starts, voice steady but with an undercurrent of strain. “I need a minute.”

You glance down, and sure enough, there’s the telltale bulge. You suppress a giggle, earning a mildly reproachful look from him.

“Sorry, Ken,” you say, trying to sound sincere but failing miserably. “I didn’t mean to cause you trouble.”

He sighs, adjusting his tie in a futile attempt to regain composure. “I suppose it’s a pleasant sort of trouble.”

“Maybe think about your schedule for the day?”

Nanami shakes his head. “I’d rather not associate this feeling with work, thank you.”

You laugh softly. “Fair point. How about something mundane? Grocery shopping?”

He hums thoughtfully, closing his eyes. “That could work.”

You watch as he takes a few deep breaths, his expression gradually relaxing. After a few minutes, he opens his eyes, looking more composed.

“Better?” you ask.

He nods, standing and adjusting his suit once more. “Yes, much. Thank you.”

You lean in for a quick peck, and he chuckles. “Careful now, or we’ll be right back where we started.”

You grin. “Would that be so bad?”

Nanami shakes his head with a smile. “No, but I do have to go. I’ll see you later.”

You pull Choso in for a long, steamy kiss, your lips melding perfectly with his. As you step back, you notice his dazed expression and chuckle.

"See you soon," you whisper, leaving him standing there, flustered. Choso blinks, trying to process what just happened. He looks down, realizing his body's reaction to the kiss, and groans.

He quickly finds a secluded corner, leaning against the wall and taking deep breaths. As he waits for his arousal to subside, Mahito walks by, giving him a knowing grin.

"Having a bit of trouble there, Choso?" Mahito teases.

Choso glares at him, crossing his arms. "Mind your own business," he snaps, wishing the ground would swallow him whole.

Mahito chuckles, unfazed by Choso's irritation. "Just offering my assistance."

Choso rolls his eyes. "I don't need your help with anything."

Mahito shrugs, still wearing that irritating smirk. "Suit yourself. But if you ever want some pointers on how to handle these situations, you know where to find me."

Choso grits his teeth, resisting the urge to lash out at his brother. Instead, he focuses on his breathing, willing his body to calm down. After what feels like an eternity, his arousal finally begins to subside.

"Better?" Mahito asks, still grinning.

Choso nods curtly, pushing himself off the wall. "Much."

Mahito chuckles, patting him on the shoulder as he walks away. "Just remember, Choso, there's no shame in enjoying yourself."

"Piss off,"

Your lips crash into Sukuna’s with a fervor that surprises even you. His reaction is immediate, his grip on your waist tightening as he deepens the kiss. When you finally pull away, there’s a wicked gleam in his eyes, but then you notice his predicament.

“Leaving already?” Sukuna teases, his voice a low growl. “I thought we were just getting started.”

You glance down and see the obvious bulge in his pants. You smirk, feeling a bit smug. “Looks like you’ll need a moment.”

He raises an eyebrow, clearly amused. “You think you can just walk away after that?”

You laugh, shaking your head. “You’re not exactly in a position to chase me right now.”

Sukuna chuckles, the sound dark and rich. “Perhaps not, but you’ll pay for this later.”

You grin, unphased by his threat. “I’ll be waiting.”

He shifts, clearly trying to will his arousal away. You watch him with a mixture of amusement and admiration. It’s rare to see Sukuna at a disadvantage, even a small one.

“Need some help?” you offer teasingly.

He gives you a look that could melt steel. “Unless you’re offering more than just words, I’ll handle it.”

You laugh, stepping back. “Alright, tough guy. I’ll leave you to it.”

He grumbles something under his breath, closing his eyes and taking deep breaths. After a few moments, he opens them again, more composed.

“Better?” you ask innocently.

Sukuna smirks. “For now. But I’ll remember this.”

You wink. “I’m counting on it.”

Toji is used to being in control, but your goodbye kiss throws him off balance. He grins at you, trying to play it cool, but you can see the slight tension in his posture.

"See you later, Toji," you say sweetly.

He gives you a lopsided grin. "Yeah, sure. Just... give me a sec."

You tilt your head, feigning innocence. "Why? Something wrong?"

He chuckles, shaking his head. "You're a real piece of work, you know that?"

You laugh and pat his cheek. "You love it."

As you walk away, Toji watches you with a mix of amusement and desire. He can't help but admire your confidence and the way you always manage to keep him on his toes. But as you disappear from view, he's left alone with his thoughts, and a certain physical reaction he can't quite control.

Toji leans against the nearest wall, running a hand through his hair. "Damn," he mutters to himself, cursing his body's betrayal. He's not used to feeling this flustered, especially not over something as simple as a goodbye kiss.

He takes a few deep breaths, trying to regain his composure. It's not easy, with your lingering presence still fresh in his mind. Toji closes his eyes, willing his body to cooperate. After a few moments, he manages to calm down, the tension easing from his muscles.

"Alright, Fushiguro," he says to himself, straightening up. "Get it together."

With a newfound resolve, Toji pushes himself away from the wall and heads off to face whatever challenges await him. But as he walks, he can't shake the memory of your lips against his, and the way you always manage to leave him wanting more.

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elizzsush · 2 days

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Future Child | Twisted Wonderland (W.I.P)

Malleus Draconia X Reader

----It wasn’t everyday you’d find a three year old running around campus causing a ruckus. Usually students wouldn’t have to deal with this, but with Crowley you had to deal with everything. Now… why is it when you catch this small trouble maker it calls you “momma”?

AUs: None

Rating: SFW

Note: I just really like the whole future child trope and wanted to add to it! (Floyd is next bc I adore him) also, Casper was a place holder name bc I couldn’t think of one so ye.

______________________________

Crowley in-listed you to help with the child problem around school. No, wait that sounded bad. A young fae no older then five got into night raven campus and has being running amok. obviously, you: the defenseless, Magic-less human with no knowledge of fae or even how some of this basics of this world work, you were the schools best bet against this ‘threat.’ And so, your oh so kind instructor pushed this task onto you and left.

Thankfully, you were well equipped with a grumpy cat-weasel who is so glad to help and definitely did not try and run away. “Ehh? Why do I have to help ya??” Grim whined as he hung limply, your hand firmly grasping his scruff as you held him up. He was so generous and did not need to be bribed at all.

You sighed, “I’ll put some money aside from this to get you tuna.”

“Why didn’t you start with that!” The motivated cat purred and jumped onto your shoulders. Now, you can finally begin your mission and take on this… threat?

This threat was a real threat!

You had learnt that after you had stumbled upon the frozen dinning hall; all of this was from the baby fae! What on Earth were you suppose to even do once you caught the child!

They’re was a mountain of ice and a many frozen students who were actively being saved by other students who were made to help. They had gotten lucky in your option. They didn’t have to find the kid. “So much magic… it’s hard to believe a kid did this.” A nameless person mumbled as they helped thaw the room out. You couldn’t help but hum in agreement to yourself. What kid could do this when Deuce struggled with making anything but cauldrons while he was somewhere new! It was… overwhelming magic for sure. And this was just the dinning hall!

“Not much to see here.” Grim grumbled from your shoulder, just then a ball of fire came hurtling towards the two of you! “Eek!!” Grim squealed.

“Sorry!” A no name student called out…

“We should leave… and fast.” You said as you turned to leave in a hurry. You tripped on the ice almost tripped on the ice while you left.

The very next place you checked was the court yard, where Mr Vargas liked to make you run in the blistering heat. PE was horrible.

I’m place of the field of grass, your peers used to practice flying on a broom, was a field of fire. Green fire no less. You stayed a distance away while you watched a group of five students try and summon water magic to help fight these flames. “If you don’t do this right it’ll be off with your heads!” Next to them, a familiar short, red haired boy was shouting at them and telling them what they were doing wrong.

“This seemed handled enough…” You muttered while you turned to leave.

You went to Mr Trein’s classroom next. Your most boring class of twisted wonderland, history, you think. Truthfully you hadn’t stayed awake longe enough to know what class he taught.

It was not for lacking of trying either!

He just drew out his words and spoke in just a boring robotic tone, it could put anyone to sleep! I digress. In place of the classroom was… an overgrown forest? In the center of it, you noticed a tall, well groomed, teal haired male, squatting down to examine what appeared to be a mushroom….

This seemed… handled-ish….

You would be taking your leave now. Also… where on earth did Grim run off too?

You didn’t have time to find him right now! Didn’t he know not to wonder off while they’re was a threat on campus!

This fae would eat him alive!

Feeling even more motivated and slightly panicked, you ran off to the your next location.

Your next, and final stop was the potions lab. The last know citing of the fae child. It was oddly… normal. Every potion was on its self, the stirring sticks where the usually go, nothing burned, frozen, or overgrown was… well anywhere. “Someone help me!” A very familiar voice squeaked out. Hesitantly, you walked closer to where you heard Grim’s voice.

A cauldron, inside of it was the soft glow of blue flames. No doubt caused by Grins fire-y ears. “Grim…?” You spoke softly. Peeking inside the steel pot, you saw a young boy, a long tail curled up beside him and one horn on the side of his head. He sniffled and then looked up at you with the most striking green eyes you’ve ever seen…

“Help me Y/n!” Grim cried out, breaking you from the little boys curse of cuteness.

“Momma!” The boy yelled out, stumbling to get up and jump into your arms, get hindered by the caldron he found himself stuck in. His face was red from tears and he looked scared… his small hands shaking with fear. He sniffled more, his chubby hands rubbing away his tears as they fell. Your heart ached slightly seeing those tears.

So, without a second thought. You picked the small boy up and cooed at him turned around and walked out the door back to ramshackle.

The small boy was absolutely adorable! Sure he may or may not have caused this weeks class cancelations but really, Ace was thanking the boy for it so all was fine! Back at ramshackle, you realized, he was just a kid! With big electric green eyes that reminded you of… someone? But who was it again? Well, it didn’t matter. The boy had Green eyes, H/ced hair and these two small slightly curled horns on top of his head.

His ears were pointed just like a fae’s but just slightly? They weren’t as long nor as sharp as a regular fae’s like Lilia. It was hard to explain. It was the oddest thing- he had a tail as well! A long blackish purple one at that. And he was excellent at magic as well, if the destroyed campus told you anything. “Are you mad at me?” He looked up at you with teary eyes.

“Why would I be mad at you?” You asked the small boy curiously, blinking at him a big confused at the question. His large electric green puppy eyes weren’t exactly helping you stand strong and not coddle him either.

“Because I made the rooms a mess…” he rubbed his large cheeks free from stray tears. Not that he was any good at it either, you just shook your head and kneeled to the floor, wiping them away for him.

Something about this boy made you wanted to care for him and protect him- he was just do cute. “Nonesense, you were scared. A little mess is fine as long as you weren’t hurt.” When you looked at him you felt something akin to cuteness aggression. This little fae was adorable! If Crowley didn’t find his parents you’d take him in!

Ignore how poorly you yourself lived in ramshackle! And how much of your food was canned tuna because Grim insisted on it over actual food.

The boy nodded, cuddling into your side like a small cuddly cat.

______________________________

Children were a handful.

Crowley, after assigning you to catch the kid, never followed up on it. So you had been living with the child for three whole days.

Not to say the kid- who’s name you learned was Casper- was a handful. In fact he was a sweet heart. He tended to shy away from things a bit, and he was a bundle of nerves sometimes. Despite the amount of magic he held at his finger tip, he’d rush to you at the slightest creak of the floorboards.

However, when it was finally time to go back to school you didn’t really know what to do with the kid…? We’re you suppose to just… bring a kid to class with you? I mean, you already bring a cat, and the kid would probably be more well behaved then Grim.

So You, Casper and Grim, went to class together. He was very sweet, maybe a little to shy, the teachers did love him. He introduced himself to them from behind your leg.

It was in the cafeteria. “Fufufu, what do we have here?” Lilia popped up out of absolutely nowhere.

“Grandpa Lilia!” The kid for once didn’t shy away. You had expected him to start crying. (He had after all when Jade introduced himself to the boy.) Lilia simply smiled and accepted the boys affections, nodding along as he babbled about his day. “Where Papa?” He asked looking up at the older fae with his large sparkling eyes.

“Yes, good question indeed where is your papa?” Lilia asked, before he looked at you, a small smirk on his face, he looked at you like you’d know! You didn’t. You had tried to correct the kid on you being his mom before two- he cried and sulked over it for a while after that. “Well I best be Off now!” Lilia cheered and gave you the kid back before disappearing off somewhere.

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patscorner · 2 days

Note

Hey, idk if your taking requests rn but could you do an Emily Engstler x chubby reader fic where reader is in her feelings about a personal subject of your choice and they end up arguing over it? Idk just some angst and fluff please?

I don't really like how this turned out, but here you gooo

Butterflies

Summary: When you receive hate, instead of getting the calm, gentle response from your girlfriend, you get a big ball of anger.

wc: 1,099

Contains: talks of insecurities, two kisses, that's all

______________________________

You sigh as you put your car in park. Finally, after a day in hell(at work), you were home. For some reason, everyone and their mom decided to test you today. Ranging from customers cussing you out, to Emily being cranky before you left for work, the day seemed to be giving you a break.

Even though you and your girlfriend had bickered all morning, right now, you wanted nothing more than to be in her arms. But before you do, you decide to open instagram. Bad idea. There were multiple hate comments on your post about how you looked in a bathing suit. You weren't the biggest person in the world, but you also weren't the skinniest. You've never been skinny, and you were often judged for that rather than your cheerful personality. So, like most bigger kids, you were bullied when you were younger, causing you to have low self confidence and self esteem.

Eventually, you grow to love your body, and it only gets better when you start to date Emily. She thought you were the most gorgeous person in the world, and she made sure you knew that.

Of course, it wasn't always smooth, and you had your days. Like now.

The post was from a month ago, when Emily surprised you with a trip to Mexico. Normally, they wouldn't affect you, but after the day you had, the words displayed on your screen found cracks in your armor and buried itself there, finding its way under your skin and into your heart.

You sigh heavily, blinking back tears as you get out of the car and locking it behind you. You take a deep breath as you unlock the door to your shared apartment with Emily.

You hear her yelling from the bedroom as you place your keys on the counter. You make your way into the room and see she's on the game with a couple of her teammates. “Hi, baby.” She mumbles, glancing at you before she draws her attention to the screen.

You don't say anything back, just grab your clothes and go to the bathroom to change. This sets alarms off in Emily's head, but unfortunately, the game she's playing has already put her emotions on ten and her patience on zero.

“What the fuck?” You hear her mumble. You roll your eyes, before changing and walking back out into the room. She's not on the game anymore, instead, she's sat on the end of the bed, with her arms crossed. You close your eyes and sigh when you see her, you truly don't have the patience.

“What the fuck is your problem? You came home pissed, and didn't even say hi to me.” She squinted her eyes at you.

You don't say anything, and just sit down next to her, hoping she'd relax at the sight of your need for comfort. She doesn't.

“I'm sorry. I’m not feeling the best, I was on Instagram and there were comments an-” Emily cuts you off with a laugh as she stands up.

“Are you serious? I told you to stay out of the comment sections. You're asking for it at this point.” She scoffs.

The statement takes you by surprise. Your normally gentle girlfriend was standing in front of you, her anger directed at you. “I'm ‘asking for it’?”

Then it clicks for Emily, as her eyes soften and she tries to take her statement back. “That's not what I me-”

Now it's your turn to cut her off. “Bullshit, you meant it. I didn't ask for any of this. I didn't ask to look like this, and I didn't ask to be treated like this either.” You stand up, a move towards the door, tears streaming down your face. You stop before you close the door and lock eyes with Emily.

Her eyes are guilty, looking down at her feet. “I'm sleeping on the couch.” You sigh. She looks up like she wants to say something, but closes her mouth instead.

“I love you.” She whispers. “I love you too.” You respond before going into the living room.

You stir in your sleep, feeling yourself being lifted from the couch. You open your eyes and look up to see Emily carrying you bridal style back to your room. “Shh, go back to sleep, ma.” She whispers, kissing your head.

You groan as she gently puts you down on your side of the bed. She mimics your actions, laying down next to you, wrapping her arms around you, so you're facing her. Sleep has left you now, and you're both just staring at each other.

“What're you doing?” You whisper. Emily's heart breaks as she takes in your features. Your eyes are red and puffy, and your hair is disheveled from the amount of times you ran your hand through it.

“Couldn't sleep.” She mumbled, pulling you closer. You melt into her arms, finally getting the embrace you needed earlier.

“I'm so sorry, baby. What I said was fucked up. I was still hype from the game, and I shouldn't have spoken to you like that.” She places an apologetic kiss on your lips, so light it was almost ghostlike.

“ ‘s okay.” You mutter.

“No it's not. I'll do better, I promise. It'll never happen again.” She said, forcing your eyes on hers. The words you read earlier flash through your mind, and your breathing hitches as you close your eyes, attempting to stop the tears, but it's no use.

She sighs as she watches you break down, and she can't help but feel like she caused some of it. She pulls you closer, her tattooed hand rubbing circles up and down your back.

“They're wrong. You are the most beautiful woman in the entire world, and I'm not gonna stop telling you, not until you believe it. And even then, I'll continue to tell you. Because it's true. Those motherfuckers don't know you. Not like I do, and they never will. “

She pauses to wipe your tears, kissing your cheeks gently. “I love you so much, and no matter what they say, I always will. D’you understand?” her eyes locked with yours, waiting for your response.

You sniffle, nodding slowly. Emily shakes her head. “Words, baby.” She whispers.

You feel your cheeks heat up, and by the way Emily tries to bite back a smirk, you know she did it on purpose. “I understand. I love you too.”

With that she pulls you into a passionate kiss, lips interlocking as she takes your insecurities away, replacing them with butterflies.

______________________________

taglist: @wintersstan @bueckerslover @lilia22hicks @fake-intelligences @girlokwhatever @pbloverr @breeloveschris

#emily engstler x y/n #emily engstler headcannons #emily engstler imagine #wnba basketball #wbb #wbb x reader #emily engstler x reader #emily engstler

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skepticalarrie · 2 days

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Could you please explain what that actually means when Simon said he doesn't own One Direction name?

I’m not a specialist, and we haven’t discussed contracts and business within the music industry for a while, so I apologize if I’m missing some facts. But basically, control over the band's name can have a massive impact on decision-making and financial outcomes. If he owned the name One Direction, that would give him full control over the brand, merch, and sort all commercial uses. The fucker regrets not owning it because he 👏 wants 👏 to 👏 profit 👏 more 👏. It’s all about money. He could be licensing products (he even mentions animations in the video), he could also organize a potential reunion and do whatever he wanted with the band, who knows…

There are so many layers to this. He also mentioned that a band member dropping out of half the tour wouldn’t be a problem if he owned the band because band ownership includes controlling decisions like continuing a tour despite these kinds of changes. I haven’t watched the full interview, but it seems to me he implies that One Direction wouldn’t be on indefinite hiatus if it were up to him. He could even have potentially reformed the band with new members or taken other directions to keep it going without even needing the consent of OT5. I mean, that’s how messed up things could have been. He regrets that the artists are the ones still in control and profiting from it!!!! He wanted to own it so the actual band members would be just puppets, not really an important part of it. No human decency, just money and business. And people still don’t believe all the awful things that went down behind the scenes. We don’t know half of what these fucking greedy people put the boys through.

Side note: He also implies multiple times that Syco did fully own the band at some point. Which is confusing, because we obviously know how controlling the label was for them and how much they profited from One Direction, but I’m pretty sure the boys always owned at least part of the band, they created a company at the very beginning and they obviously still own it and earn from the band to this day. So I’d love to know what the deal actually was and what point this changed.

In reference to this

#ask #simon cowell #contracts and business #industry #1D name #syco

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cyberseong · 1 day

Text

celebrate.

pairing: san x f!reader

genre: established relationship, smau.

warnings/topics: misunderstandings (?), yunho is y/n’a best friend and he’s mentioned throughout, san is jealous for the entirety of the fic, oral sex, facefucking, unprotected sex, slight exhibitionism, idk i promise it makes sense.

a/n: this took me ages to finish but i’m finally posting it now.. it isn’t completely proofread so i apologize for any errors or mistakes. notes are appreciated!

wc: 1.5k

“uhm– where are you going so urgently?” he asked skeptically, to which she absent-mindedly replied:

“ah, yunho says he has a present for me, so i was going to see him for a little-”

y/n released a surprised gasp as san grabbed her arm, pulling her back towards the living room to confront her. “no; we had a whole day planned together. why are you always ditching our plans to make time for yunho’s? you’re my girlfriend, not his,” san seethed, grinding his teeth. he usually wasn’t one to make a big deal out of their concerns, but he was at his limit.

“it isn’t always, san— he’s my best friend, and i was just going to pick up the gift he got for me since he didn’t have time to bring it here. it really isn’t that big of a deal,” she argued, pulling her arm away from san’s hold and crossing them in front of her abdomen.

his eyes widened in disbelief as he heard her outright belittle his problems. san inched his face closer to hers out of anger, nearly standing over y/n. “you don’t think it’s a big deal? fine. go see yunho, then. he obviously matters more to you than us, so-”

“god, san, shut up, please,” y/n exasperatedly pleaded, leaning in to close the gap between them. their lips crashed together harshly, almost as if they were still arguing without exchanging words. san’s lips eventually trailed away from y/n’s as he began to paint beautiful blemishes across her jaw and neck; he was daring her to go see yunho after this.

y/n knew exactly what san was planning; which was why she didn’t hesitate when he guided her to her knees in the middle of their living room, and why she only feigned stupidity when he unzipped his pants, presenting her with his semi-hard-on and a raised eyebrow as if he was waiting for her to do something, as if he deserved something for nearly being abandoned for her best friend.

she only looked up at him with doe eyes, tilting her head slightly to the left as if she wanted him to show her what to do next.

and so he did; san slid his dick in between her swollen, saliva-covered lips, not having any mercy on her throat as he fucked into it deeply— the warmth tightness of her mouth against his cock caused a series of groans to elicit from his own, only getting louder as he felt y/n swallow each time she was deep throated.

y/n sat a hand against san’s thigh as she could feel his thrusts get sloppier. she knew he was nearing his climax, so y/n grazed her tongue against his length to make him twitch from the overstimulation; the action soon made him pull out slightly to shoot his cum onto her tongue as he pumped his dick to make sure every last drop was gone. y/n locked eyes with him before swallowing his load, sticking her tongue back out to prove it to the man in front of her.

san grinned before lifting her body off of the hardwood floor and carrying her into their shared bedroom. he quickly let her fall onto the mattress and stripped both of their clothes off in a matter of seconds. his hands then flipped her onto her stomach as if she held no weight at all, before pulling her hips closer to the edge of the bed where he stood. he let his fingers drop to caress her folds, fingering her slightly before realizing that she was already dripping wet, and there was no need for any preparation or lube. he first lapped up the wetness from his fingers with his tongue before positioning himself behind y/n properly.

“you okay to keep going?” san hurriedly spoke, finishing his words once you gave him a reassuring ‘yes’ in return, “just say something if you want to stop, you know the rules, love.”

san spared no time at all as he pounded into y/n’s pussy, his lengthy rough thrusts forcing loud moans out from her lips. he used his hand to push her head further into the mattress to intensify the feeling of his hips snapping against hers. she drowned in the sensual atmosphere that plagued the room; the tension from earlier was still felt in the form of jealousy with each motion of san’s hips. y/n could feel the possessiveness that lingered as they fucked.

y/n choked on a strangled moan as san changed the angle of his thrust, and before they could even continue to chase their highs, y/n’s phone rang melodically— she was getting a phone call. san internally cursed whoever decided to interrupt the both of them and after retrieving the phone from the floor and checking the caller id, it was almost ironic that it read ‘yunho’.

“answer it,” san demanded, sliding the phone close enough to y/n’s face to where she could be heard through the phone’s speaker. she tried to regain her composure before she swiped the green circle across her screen, meaning that the call had been connected.

‘y/n, is everything okay? i know you said you were coming over soon, i was getting a little worried,’ yunho’s giggle could be heard on the other side of the screen; though left unappreciated as san continued to roll his hips forward while y/n attempted to form coherent sentences in response to the other male.

“y-yeah, about that- fuck, i might have to come to see you ano- ah, fuck, another time yuyu— ‘m a little b-busy,” she stuttered and fumbled over her own words, trying not to let any vocal moans escape from her lips for yunho to hear. san, on the other hand, had a goal for yunho to hear what had y/n so occupied at the moment; so he would be reminded that y/n was his, even if they both knew yunho had no interest in y/n like that whatsoever.

‘are you sure everything’s fine? you don’t sound too- oh.’ yunho came to the realization of what was going on at the other end of the line when san sped up and deepened his movements— the unexpected gasps and mewls that fell from y/n’s mouth were exactly what gave it away.

neither of them could currently see yunho, but his blush and embarrassment were practically seeping through the screen. he mumbled a prompt ‘u-uhm, nevermind, we can talk later,’ before hanging up the phone as fast as his fingers allowed him.

san scoffed at the phone call; “aw, he was welcome to stay longer,” he mocked whilst continuing to fuck into y/n at an inhumane pace. y/n only whined at the words, not being able to form a rebuttal at the moment from all of the moans and whimpers clawing at her throat

they could feel each other getting close to reaching their climaxes as san’s groans became more audible, and as y/n’s hole began to clench around his cock as a reaction to the sudden oversensitivity.

with a few more deep thrusts of his dick, san bottomed out, the both of them cumming simultaneously. san basked in his high for a little until he pulled out of y/n, falling next to her into the mattress in exhaust. the two were absolutely drenched in sweat, and they both knew a shower would be required if they planned on going out for dinner later on.

the couple turned to look in each other’s direction, admiring the other’s fucked out features while they caught their breath.

san snickered quietly to himself, showing his smile to y/n before giving his last bit of commentary for the time being.

“happy birthday, y/n~”

“oh fuck off, san.”

#ateez #ateez fanfic #ateez fic #ateez smut #ateez x reader #atz smut #atz x reader #san ateez #san fanfic #san x reader #san fic #ateez san

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scoonsaliciousupdates · 1 day

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10.2 Bucky

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Summary: Lily McIntyre, trainer for new SHIELD recruits at the Avengers Tower, has been in love with her best friend, Bucky Barnes, from the moment she met him. She's been content with her role of the #1 girl in Bucky's life, even if it means she has to sabotage a romantic relationship or two. It'll be worth it when he realizes that they're meant for each other, right? There's just one small problem: Lily McIntire never expected Bucky Barnes to fall for You.

Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, Bucky invading privacy and getting the wrong idea, then not letting Major get a word in edgewise.

Word Count: 1.4k

Previously On...: You thought the envelope may have come from Rand, but after talking to him, you're pretty sure he didn't send it.

A/N: Sorry for the delay-- was running errands and thought I would be back in time, but then I got held up at a train crossing :P

If you ever feel so inclined to support my work, hop on over to buy me a coffee; it's much appreciated! <3

NOTE! The tag list is a fickle bitch, so I'm not really going to be dealing with it anymore. If you want to be notified when new story parts drop, please follow @scoonsaliciousupdates

Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!

He was about fifteen minutes early to pick up Major, but if he was being honest with himself, he couldn’t wait to see her again. He missed her every second he wasn’t near her, talking to her, holding her, just being in her presence. He was down bad for the girl, that was for sure, and he was going to take every extra minute he could get with her.

Opening the main door, he walked into the lobby and waved to Zadie as she was having a group of teenagers sign a waiver before arranging to have them go to a room.

“Hey, Sergeant Barnes!” she called out to him. “Major’s back in her office if you wanted to go surprise her. I’m sure she wouldn’t mind the interruption.” Zadie waggled her eyebrows at the implication, and Bucky stifled a laugh as he made his way back toward the door she’d pointed to.

The door to Major’s office was partially closed, and Bucky knocked, the force of it pushing the door open to reveal the empty office. Bucky stepped inside and, seeing her purse on the edge of her desk, assumed she must have stepped out to use the restroom; he was fifteen minutes early in coming to pick her up, after all. She would have thought she had time.

He used the opportunity to take in her space, the sophisticated office furniture colored in deep, earthy tones that gave Bucky a feeling of calm, similar to what he felt in her presence. He admired some framed medals on the wall from her time in the military, as well as some certificates of accomplishment, and he was pleased to see the orchid he’d bought her resting in a place of pride by the window.

He ran his fingers over the fuchsia petals, smiling to himself before turning toward her desk.

That was when he saw it. The envelope that had Major so worked up earlier in the day, her name and The WarZone’s Midtown address written in blocky, all caps. He took a step toward it, hand outstretched, but then pulled himself back. No, he thought. He wasn’t going to go through her private work documents. It was none of his business, really.

But… she had been so upset earlier. Maybe there was something he could do to help. He could just take a quick peak; that would totally be fine. He tilted the envelope and a stack of documents and photos came pouring out onto Major’s desk. At first, he couldn’t make sense of what he was looking at, as if the input from his eyes wasn’t making its way to his brain.

Every piece of paper that had come out of the envelope was about… him. He found himself flipping through the pages, barely allowing the contents to register. They were all photos of him, back when he was still the Asset, committing horrendous crimes. Each document was a report of something he’d done, a person he’d killed. As he flipped through them, his stomach fell through the floor, shame heating his face. Why did she have these? How did she get them?

Had she been looking into him? When she had told him, during their first date, that she would wait for him to tell her about his past when he was ready, had that all been a lie? But why? What would she have to gain from it?

He heard footsteps approaching and in seconds, Major was walking through the door of her office.

“Hey, you!” she exclaimed, her face lighting up in happiness when she saw him standing there. “You’re early! I hope you weren’t waiting too long on me. Just wanted to freshen my face before dinner tonight.” She walked around to where he was standing and draped her arms around his neck, leaning up to kiss him, but Bucky stood still, only turning his face from hers.

She pulled away from him, her expression concerned. “Bucky, what’s wrong?”

Without thought, his eyes darted to where the documents and photos lay spread haphazardly across her desk. He watched her gaze turn to follow his line of sight, and he saw her posture seem to deflate.

“Oh,” she breathed out. “Oh, Bucky, honey– I really didn’t want you to see those.”

“I’m sure,” he spat, and was rewarded when she pulled back from him in surprise. “Wouldn’t do you any good if I knew you were digging into my past, would it? Much better to keep me in the dark about it, right?”

“Bucky, what–” she began, but he interrupted her:

“Was all that talk about wanting to wait until I was comfortable with telling you about my past just a lie? Were you so goddamn curious, you couldn’t even wait to find all the gory details for yourself? You wanna know how many people I killed that didn’t make it into those files, because I promise you, sugar, there’s a hell of a lot. You want to know about the time Hydra sent me to kill an ambassador, told me to leave no witnesses, and I took out his wife and his two kids, too? ‘Cause they couldn’t have been more than ten years old. That kind of thing get you off, doll?”

She took a further step back from him, a look of disgust and confusion on her face, and Bucky suddenly didn’t want to deal with it. “You know what?” he said, stepping around her and walking to the door, “Fuck this.” He stormed out of her office and as he stomped through the lobby, he could hear Major calling after him, but he was beyond caring at this point.

He slammed through the front doors of The WarZone and back onto the street. Hopping onto his bike, he threw on his helmet and kicked it into gear, speeding away from Major and his past as fast as he could.

He reached upstate in record time; he was fortunate he hadn’t gotten pulled over for speeding. He certainly wouldn’t have taken that very well. He stopped at an intersection– one direction would take him back to the Compound, but the other would lead him into town. He considered his options for a split second before making his decision.

A few minutes later, he was pulling up to the front of a modest, but charming farmhouse. His safe haven for when life at the Compound got to be too much for him to handle, and he needed some peace and quiet to just decompress and be himself. He definitely needed that right now.

Bucky walked up the front path and onto the well-tended porch before giving the front door a series of strong knocks. Stepping back, he shoved his hands into the pockets of his jacked and waited, his eyes resting on the porch swing he had helped build two summers ago. He should probably check the chain to make sure it didn’t need to be oiled.

The door opened and there was Lily, a balm to his ragged psyche.

“Jamie,” she breathed, obviously surprised to see him. “What are you doing here? I thought you had dinner plans with Nat’s friend.”

Bucky grunted and poked the toe of his boot at a floor board that stuck out a little higher than its neighbor. “Don’t really want to talk about her right now, Lil,” he said. “Can I come in?”

Lily’s eyes widened as she stepped aside, making room for him to enter. “Yeah, of course. Um, I was just thinking of ordering some takeout. Are you hungry? I could get some pizzas.”

“Yeah,” Bucky said as he followed Lily into her kitchen, “that sounds good.” He took off his jacket and draped it over the back of one of her kitchen chairs. “Let me pay this time, though, okay? Since you’ll have to order an entire second pizza just for me.”

Lily smiled at him softly as she picked up her phone and navigated to the delivery app. “Obviously,” she told him with a hint of teasing in her voice. “Ham and pineapple on one, pepperoni on the other?”

Bucky sat down and stretched his arms over his head. “It’s like you read my mind.”

<- Previous Part / Next Part ->

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky x female reader #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfiction #james bucky buchanan barnes #james buchanan barnes #mcu bucky barnes #james barnes

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stylesharrys · 10 hours

Text

The Box | Part Two [Boxerry]

Y/N and Harry find themselves on the run from the same people that killed Sam, and Y/N isn't sure how much more of this she can take.

A/N: this is the final part of the series, still mad that it wouldn’t let me post it as one big fic but it is what it is. I’m working super hard on some new things for you guys and I’m excited to share them when they’re ready… but I do have a couple more old exclusive pieces I might share first :)

Warnings: (in no particular order) mentions of death/loss of a sibling and grandparent, mentions of miscarriage, unsupportive parents, swearing, brief descriptions of illegal fighting, money laundering, use of weapons, brief mentions of alcohol, mentions of anxiety, schizophrenia and multiple personality disorder, smut; kissing, teasing, dirty talk, fingering, protected sex, oral (both receiving/69)

WC: 14.8k

“Y/N, you forgot to sign off on meds.”

With a very tired sigh, Y/N huffs to herself. She’s been like this all day, messing up here and there, forgetting things she wouldn’t ever usually forget. But that’s what happens when Y/N gets in her head. She makes mistakes and finds it difficult to think straight.

She wouldn’t have this problem if she didn’t sleep with Harry. If he didn’t sneak out while she slept like she had told him to. But alas, here she is, unable to think about anything else other than the dull ache between her thighs where she craves him the most.

She probably wouldn’t be this pent up if they spoke about it — or spoke at all in general. But they haven’t, not really. In the last two days, they’ve shared a total of six texts between them, and she doesn’t even have to look at her phone to remind herself of what they say.

Harry: I left while you were sleeping, thought it would be best that way x

Y/N: yeah, I get it x

Y/N: I won’t be able to come to the club until Wednesday if that’s ok. Working late the next two days

Harry: no stress, come whenever u can x

Y/N: just to make you aware, Mary has started new medication for her diabetes x

Harry: cool, thank you x

The small conversation had been spread over 48 hours and Y/N isn’t sure how to feel about that. Is that a hint that she should take? That he’s not interested in it happening again, even though they alluded to another time when they were together?

It’s the unknown that’s had her so worked up today. So much so that even now, fixing her mistake on the medication sheet, she somehow almost signs the wrong name off.

Handing the pen back to Cynthia, Y/N finally grabs her bag and zips up her jacket to leave work. She doesn’t waste a second before opening the door and allowing the biting chill of the night's air to nip at the skin of her face.

The idea of a steaming hot bath and a glass of white wine sits heavy in her mind as she makes for the car park, tries to think of the best way she can take her mind off Harry this evening.

She supposes she could catch up with one of her shows, maybe even start the book she bought last week and still hasn’t got round to opening.

A book, bath and a glass of wine is what she decides on — she might even be cheeky and order food in or pick something up on the way home.

It’s only a few more steps to her car when she hears an engine turn on a few spaces from her. Headlights light up the dark, illuminating her way slightly and she squints.

The late shift ended two hours ago and no one else is finishing or starting shift at this time of the night. She wonders if it’s just someone who lives locally that’s using their parking lot, but the harder she looks, the more unnerved she feels.

Y/N recognises the three faces in the car — two in the front and one in the back. She remembers their intense gazes from the pub just a few nights ago; where Harry got extremely uptight about their presence — and now, they’re here, outside of her work, staring at her.

That familiar feeling of fear settles heavy in her stomach and as if out of impulse, she begins to slow her speed and sifts through her purse, appearing as though she’s searching for her keys.

She stops then, subtly pulls her phone out and turns around back toward the building of the care home, like she’s lost what she’s looking for. It’s when her back is completely toward the car and her feet slowly carry her back to the front door to not appear spooked, she’s dialling Harry’s number and bringing the phone to her ear.

It only rings once and then he answers.

“Hey,” his voice is light, happy. “I was just about to call you.”

“Harry, I need you to pick me up from work.” The panic in her voice stirs something worrisome in Harry’s gut and his once airy tone is diminished.

“Okay, I’m coming. What’s wrong, Penny? Are you okay?”

“Those guys from the pub the other night are here. They’re in a car right by mine and I’m scared. I don’t know what to fucking do!”

He’s swallowing down the bile that crawls up his throat, grabbing his keys from the table in the office as he stands.

“Are you in your car?”

“No, I was walking out of work when I noticed them.”

“Go back inside and meet me out the back. Do not leave the building until I text you.”

“Can you please stay on the phone with me?”

His heart clenches, hands balling into fists. He doesn’t say anything to anyone as he leaves the club, only a few of the guys training in the space.

“Yeah, just keep talking to me. How many guys are in the car?”

Y/N hears him start up his engine as she re-enters the building and rushes through the halls. “Three.”

Harry doesn’t have to ask what they look like to know who they are. The anger that consumes him begins to shake his body, red slowly blurring his vision and he hasn’t driven this fast since the night of Sammy’s death.

“Harry, who are they? Why did you get spooked at the pub when you saw them and why the fuck are they waiting outside my work?”

He doesn’t answer her. “I’ll be two minutes, just stay inside.”

She doesn’t like the way he dismisses her question, how she’s being left in the dark, purposefully. That fear begins to ache in her fingertips, heart racing against her ribcage and those familiar signs of a panic attack begin to make themselves apparent.

“Har… I can’t breathe. I’m freaking the fuck out.”

“Don’t,” he tells her, voice stern. “I’m coming around the corner. It’s gonna be fine…. I’m outside.”

She pushes through the back door quickly, eyes frantically searching for his Chevy when she finally spots his headlights. Harry flashes them at her, leaning over to open the passenger door and Y/N’s quick to get inside and lock it shut behind her.

The state she’s in makes Harry feel sick. Eyes like a deer in headlights, fear prominent in every feature. She turns to him with a wild look, swallowing thickly.

Harry reaches for her hand and gives her a reassuring squeeze before reversing out of the narrow road and turning back around.

“What the fuck is going on?”

He keeps his eyes fixed on the road, ignoring her question until she calls his name again, much sterner this time.

“Tell me what is going on.”

He looks at her briefly, dragging his eyes back to the road again. This is not how he wanted it to go. He didn’t want her caught up in this mess and he didn’t want to have to be the one to explain Sammy’s death. Much less under these circumstances.

“I’m going to take you back to my place and I’ll explain everything there, okay?”

Y/N shakes her head profusely, tearing her hand from Harry’s hold as the panic refuses to subside.

“No, that’s not okay. Harry, I can’t—“

“Penny! Stop. Do you trust me?”

She blinks at him. “What?”

“Do you trust me?” he repeats, accentuating every word.

It’s not something she needs to think about. Maybe it’s a bit crazy, a bit premature, but she does trust him. With her life.

She nods her head once. “I trust you.”

Her words sit a little heavy in Harry’s chest. She trusts him. The confirmation of it doesn’t relax him like he thought it would. Because Sam trusted him, and Harry was too late.

He’ll be damned if history repeats itself.

“Then trust when I say I’ll explain everything when we get home. You’re safe with me, and I need you to calm down.”

He knows it’s easier said than done but when he doesn’t hear Y/N complain, and he feels her relax into her seat the best she can, that heaviness sits a little lighter.

“Okay.”

The usual forty minute drive to Harry’s apartment takes just under twenty minutes. The roads are clear and Harry’s not ashamed to admit he stepped on the gas a little harder than usual.

To him, this isn’t a time to take a leisurely drive and admire the night's view. Because if this is anything like before, it’s life or death and Harry won’t allow the latter.

His flat is on the third floor of a fairly large complex. It’s stealth-like, how he guides her through the halls and into his flat. She takes it in for a few seconds. Clean, tidy, minimal.

Like he can up and leave at any given moment if necessary.

Harry throws his keys on the coffee table and rushes to the window, closing the blinds before wandering to the kitchen to do the same. A frown sits heavy between his brows and there’s something a bit erratic about him.

The composure she had just moments before is quickly dwindling and soon enough, she’s back to panicking again.

“Can you tell me what the fuck is going on now?”

Harry chews on the inside of his cheek, hands on his hips as he looks at her. Neither of them really take into consideration that this is the first time they’ve seen each other since they slept together.

And now is not a time to bring it up either.

Harry huffs. “Look, those guys are bad news. Mentally fucking insane, okay? They had it out for Sam and now they’re after you.”

Y/N stares at him, blinking her eyes wide. “Excuse me?”

He doesn’t want to tell her, can't stomach the idea of it, but Harry knows he doesn’t have a choice. He can’t keep her in the dark about her brother forever. And now that the same people are after her, she deserves to know the truth.

“Sam wasn’t always this great guy, Penny. He had a dark side and they were a part of it.”

The mention of her late brother makes her heart twist. Her chest begins to rattle as she tries to take in his words. To understand what he’s trying to get at.

“What are you trying to say?” She poses the question carefully, not wanting to read the situation wrong.

A look of softness flashes across Harry’s face as he takes a step closer. “Sammy’s death wasn’t an accident,” he begins, “Those guys ran him off the road and killed him.”

It’s all too much and everything starts caving in on her. Y/N can hardly breathe, can barely even see. There’s a drumming in her head that deafens her, a haze in her eyes that blinds her.

Her brother didn’t pass away. He was taken — his soul torn from his body before he was ready to go, and Y/N can’t stomach that. Can’t handle the truth of what Harry’s told her.

How is she supposed to live her life now? Knowing her brother was murdered. Knowing they are the reason for it.

“Why?” she cries through laboured breaths.

“Sam owed them money.”

“How much?”

There’s a pause, and then… “Thirty grand.”

She’s completely exasperated, struggling to comprehend anything he’s saying. Was thirty grand really worth his life?

“He was late in paying them,” Harry continues. “We had Feds on our backs watching the club and all of our transactions, we couldn’t risk it.”

Y/N looks at him, brows pinched tightly as she struggles to see through the onslaught of tears. “So he just refused?”

Harry shakes his head. “No, not at first. But then they uh… they went after this girl he’d been seeing—“

“—Amira?”

Harry nods. “They tried scaring her, to give Sam a message. They roughed her up — Penny…” he pauses, like he’s preparing himself to say what he needs to, and just when Y/N thinks it couldn’t get worse, it does, “She was pregnant. And she lost the baby because of it.”

Harry doesn’t give her time to properly process his words, figures it’ll be best to rip most of the bandaid off at once rather than in small increments.

“Sam lost his shit, told them that they’ll never see their money and that he was after them. One night, they showed up at the club and all Hell broke loose. They ran, we followed — Sam in one car and me in another.”

The way his voice begins to dwindle with every passing word makes Y/N’s stomach sink. Like she knows what he’s leading up to, that he’s about to divulge the traumatic truth of her brother's death.

She doesn’t want to know, doesn’t want to hear what will haunt her for the rest of her life. But her heart needs the truth — needs to understand what happened to him, needs revenge.

“Sam was always a better driver; faster,” he croaks, and he falls silent for a second or two until he speaks again with a broken voice. “I heard the sound the same time I turned the corner — his car had flipped and was wrapped around a telephone pole. And they were gone.”

Her heart is in her stomach, a numbing pain searing through her veins. Pain for Amira and their baby, pain for Sam, pain for herself. But with the pain comes anger. Anger toward the men that killed him. Anger toward the fact that Harry’s always had this knowledge of Sam’s death and didn’t say anything until now, when he felt he had to.

“You’ve known this whole time.”

There’s little to no emotion in her voice, and the blank expression in her eyes begins to unnerve Harry slightly.

“I’m sorry,” he apologises, “I didn’t know how to tell you.”

“So you just weren't going to tell me at all?”

Harry’s growing frustrated but he knows he has no right. He kept this secret from her, he chose to protect her from the truth and is only now realising the consequences of that decision.

“I’m sorry,” he repeats. “You can hate me all you want but right now, we need to get out of here.”

A slither of confusion cracks through that empty facade as she takes in the desperation of his voice. Like she’s only now just remembering the severity of the situation they’re in.

“What?”

“It’s a matter of time before they check your place, check mine and then riot the club. They didn’t just stop after Sam. They’re trying to take over The Box and that includes getting rid of you and I.”

That all consuming panic is quick to surge through her body, chest rising and falling rapidly as the anger subsides to fear.

“So… so we need to leave town.”

He nods slowly at her shaky words, allowing her to take the lead as much as she can so she doesn't feel forced. Y/N scratches at her forehead, keeps her eyes on the ground below her.

“Okay. Uh… I take it we can’t go back to my place. Can I, like, borrow some clothes or something?”

“Yeah,” Harry breathes. “I’ll pack a bag now, you should probably call work, tell them there’s a family emergency and you won’t be in for a few days.”

He leaves her for a few minutes, rushing off to pack a bag in his bedroom. Y/N’s fumbling to type a text to her manager, struggles to keep the tears at bay.

It’s all too much. It’s one thing to find out her brother was murdered, but to hear the same people that killed him are after her and Harry now? She feels like she can’t breathe.

“Hi, d’you have any more rooms available for the night?”

He’s softly tapping his finger on the reception desk, eyes on Y/N as he speaks and she’s full of the jitters.

Harry sped their way to the next town over, pulling into the first motel they came across. She was silent for the majority of the drive, too in her head to offer a coherent conversation but Harry understood, so he didn’t press it.

And she’s the same now, curled into herself as Harry hands over enough cash to pay for their room for tonight, and lugs the bags in his hands with the room key, making toward the elevator.

“I’m sorry I kept the truth from you, I didn’t want to taint your memories of him.” He breaks the silence as the door closes and they’re carried higher through the building.

“That wasn’t for you to decide.”

It’s quiet but he hears her, loud and clear. Harry hates that he’s made her feel this way – that he’s gotten her mixed up in this shitshow. He’s guilty, blames himself for everything that happened to Sam, everything that’s now happening to her.

“I’m sorry,” she squeaks out.

He looks down at her, brows pinched as she gazes up at him through fluttering lashes and hooded eyes, “What for?”

“None of this is your fault, I know you were only trying to protect me from the truth. Don’t do that again.”

Harry nods curtly as the doors open and he leads them down the hall in search of their room for the night. He unlocks it, flicks on the lights and lets Y/N walk through first.

It’s nothing special, just a standard cheap hotel room, but what does catch Y/N’s eye is the bed. Just the one. And she’s reminded of the last time she saw him, when he was in her bedroom, fucking the life out of her. Despite the circumstances, she’s not opposed to sharing a bed – it might make her feel a little safer – but they’ve not discussed their previous meet-up and she doesn’t know what to make of it.

Harry notices how her gaze stays fixated on the bed and heat rises to his cheeks. “I’ll take the sofa.”

Y/N turns to him, brows pinched. “Don’t be ridiculous. We’re not exactly strangers, Harry. We’ve literally had sex together — I think we’re past the formalities.”

The bluntness of her words has Harry’s eyes widening. His lips part in shock at how brazen she appears about their hook-up. Harry had begun to think she regretted it, and that was why she didn’t bring it up.

Clearly, he’s been sorely mistaken. He thinks.

He clears his throat, forcing a cough. “Right.”

He plants the bag on the sofa and retrieves a pair of boxer shorts and an old t-shirt, handing them both to Y/N. She takes them, guides herself to the bathroom and shuts the door.

It takes Harry a few seconds to regulate his breathing — to get a grip on his emotions and the numbing fear that rattles his body. The whole ordeal is a bit too triggering for him — like he’s potentially going to relive his best friend's death through Y/N.

He doesn’t know what scares him more. What could happen to her or the lengths he’ll go to to protect her. Either thought is too much to process, so instead he lets his mind wonder about the other situation at hand.

She’s about to get into bed with him, wearing his clothes, after they hooked up a couple of days ago and are yet to discuss what the hell it means for them.

And Harry’s aware that it’s definitely not an appropriate time to be thinking about it, but he is. Because he hasn’t been able to stop since it happened.

He’s torn from his thoughts when the bathroom door opens and Y/N creeps into the bedroom. His heart is lodged in his throat at the sight. His clothes are too big for her and her legs look incredibly soft and smooth, the hem of his t-shirt barely covering her bum.

“There’s a spare toothbrush on the side. Bathroom’s all yours.”

There’s not much emotion in her voice now, and Harry can tell from her puffy eyes that she’s been crying behind that bathroom door. His heart cracks a little but he doesn’t say anything.

Instead he uses the bathroom, strips into a pair of boxers (hoping Y/N won’t mind as he didn’t pack a whole lot of clothes), and brushes his teeth before joining her in the hotel room again.

She’s under the covers now, only his bedside lamp on and Harry’s heart starts to thump. It’s been a while since he’s laid in bed with someone without something happening.

Nevertheless, he crawls in beside her and flicks off the light. He keeps a respectable distance between them but still close enough to make out the shadows of her face. That’s when he hears it, the soft sniffles and shaky breath.

A sigh escapes his lips as he shuffles closer with arms outstretched. He half expects her to push him away, tell him no, she’s still angry with him, but she doesn’t. She coddles herself into his chest instead and lets him hold her — comfort her.

“I’m not going to let anything happen to you, Penny. I promise.”

And while she appreciates the reassuring words, it doesn’t do much to soothe her fear and anxiety. Nothing could make her feel safe right now — not even Harry’s warm and strong body keeping her close. Not completely safe, anyway. Not now that she knows the truth.

What she thinks she needs is a distraction. Something to make her forget, even just for a short while. So it’s not really a surprise to her when she finds herself pulling out of Harry’s hold just enough to crane her neck up to look at him.

He’s already gazing down at her, eyes as dark as the night. With softly puckered lips, Y/N leans up just enough to press a gentle kiss against his mouth.

It surprises Harry, if he’s honest. He never would’ve taken her for someone to initiate things first, but he has to remind himself that she’s the type of girl to go after what she wants, and she was the one to initiate things last time.

He kisses her back just as softly, lips moulding to hers as they both lay on their sides, Y/N lifting her leg to wrap it around Harry’s waist.

It’s a bold hint that Harry gets, and he pulls away slowly to get a look at her, to search for a single shred of doubt or hesitation. When he falls short, he noses at her temple.

“It’s probably not a good idea tonight,” he breathes, trying desperately to ignore the way his cock lunges. “Your emotions are really heightened right now. I don’t want you to regret it in the morning.”

She shakes her head. “I won’t. I didn’t regret it last time,” she tells him, “I just need to forget for a little while.”

Harry swallows thickly. So she doesn’t regret it. And she wants it to happen again, right now, to forget.

“I uh,” he clears his throat, “I don’t have anything — I don’t have a condom with me.”

Y/N blinks, lips parting. The idea of not using one does cross both of their minds but they’re smarter than that.

Her hand reaches between their bodies, fingertips grazing across the throbbing length of Harry’s hard cock beneath his boxers.

“We can do other stuff, can’t we?”

Her voice is a sensual whisper and it makes his head spin. She’s compelling, everything about her. So he’s not very shocked when he finds himself nodding his head and leaning down to greet her in a kiss again.

Y/N palms at his clothed cock, hips gently rocking as she tries to get closer. This is what she needs. Him. Anything he’ll give her to make her forget what life is like right now — what she’s running from.

Harry’s hand cups the side of her jaw, kissing her a little harder. Her spare hand reaches for his wrist to move it away, guides it down their bodies and between her legs until he’s cupping her aching heat through (his) boxers.

“Are you sure?”

She squeezes his cock, dipping her fingers into the waistband of his underwear. “Touch me, Har. Need it so bad.”

He swallows thickly, palming at her heat as a shuddered moan slips from her lips and into his mouth. She wraps her cool fingers around his shift, a hiss sounding from the back of his throat.

“Need to forget everything, H. Just want you.”

The neediness in her voice sends him spiralling, latching his mouth to hers with as much force as he can muster. The kiss is messy, dirty — all tongue and teeth and Y/N thinks it’s the hottest thing she’s ever experienced.

Her hand begins to bob on his cock, long strokes and as she reaches his tip, small beads of precum coat her fingers, smearing across his length. He seethes, a hum soon following as he tries to stay quiet.

But Y/N doesn’t want him to be quiet. She wants to hear him, how she’s making him feel.

She pumps a little faster, grip a little tighter. Harry’s sneaking his fingers into the boxers she’s wearing, swirling his fingers between her folds and she’s soaked — almost dripping, really.

“Jesus Christ, Penny. You’re fucking soaked.”

She moans into his mouth, bucking her hips against his hand. “I told you not to call me that,” she pants.

“M’sorry, baby.”

She nods against the kiss. “Yeah, that’s better.”

A breathily laugh escapes Harry’s mouth, his finger prodding at her fluttering hole. She’s eager for him, desperate. Just wants to feel full of him — of whatever he can give her.

He continues to tease her, thumb on her clit while she lazily tugs at his cock. It’s not enough for her, the gentle touches, she wants her brain turned to mush so she has no choice but to not think.

Maybe that’s why she shuffles her position beside him until she’s kneeling by his hips and tugging his cock free from the confinements of his boxers.

Harry watches with hooded eyes as she leans down to press a sloppy, open-mouthed kiss to his leaking tip. His head falls back against the pillows, chest rising and falling rapidly as she works her warm mouth on his cock.

He keeps his hand between her thighs, fingers pinching delicately at her puffy clit, a little too fucked on the feeling of her moaning around him.

Y/N licks messily from the base to the head, swirling her tongue across his slit before taking him into her mouth. She doesn’t mess about with it, takes as much as she can at once and lets him hit at the back of her throat.

A gruff moan escapes Harry’s lips as she gags around him, spluttering profusely as strings of saliva dribble from the corners of her mouth.

He reaches his spare hand down for her head, tugging at the roots of her hair to get her attention. “Turn around,” he breathes heavily.

She pulls off him, brows pinched. “What?”

“I wanna taste you at the same time,” he gulps. “Turn around.”

His hand leaves her head, reaching for the boxers on her waist to tug them down while the other continues its assault on her dripping cunt. He relents for a moment to tug the underwear down her thighs and past her ankles, throwing them across the room and helping situate her above his face.

She lets out a squeak at his eagerness, nose bumping the tip of his cock but Harry doesn’t care. Her cunt hovers over him, soaked and puffy and a quiet moan slips from his lips at the sight.

With his hands on her hips, he eases her down to latch his mouth around her cunt, slurping at her wetness as he’s finally awarded a taste of her. And he’s hooked. Completely fucked out. She’s sweeter than anything he’s ever had before and he’ll be devastated if she never allows him a taste again.

Y/N covers him with her mouth, suckling as much as she can fit and bobbing her head with every stroke her tongue offers to the underside of his cock. They’re both messy and sloppy with their actions, eager and desperate for a release.

The hotel room will no doubt stink of sex for days after, but neither of them care. They can barely think straight as it is.

Harry can’t get over the taste of her, wants it staining his tongue for the rest of his life. He reaches a finger down to probe at her hole, pushing in with ease as she clenches around him.

Y/N lets out a muffled moan around his cock, the sound sending vibrations through Harry’s body which makes him twitch against her tongue.

“You’re so fucking sexy,” he mumbles against her cunt, finger curling before he adds a second one and fucks them into her.

Her thighs are trembling from the sides of his head, locking him in slightly to stop him trying to move away. Y/N takes him deeper into her mouth, relaxing her jaw and Harry takes the hint to start bucking his hips into her.

It’s filthy, the noises she makes, the way his cock jabs at the back of her throat. Her pussy grips his fingers like a vice, walls fluttering and he knows she’s close. With his spare hand, Harry strikes a smack to her ass, pawing at the fleshy skin before spanking her again.

She’s positively dripping into his mouth, her body so worked up that she can barely keep consciousness. Her eyes are stinging with tears as he thrusts harsher, effectively restricting her air supply as he does so.

But she’s never been so turned on in her life. Sixty-nine-ing with Harry in the pitch dark.

“Fuck! Baby, I’m gonna come.”

He expects her to pull off him, but she doesn’t. Instead, Y/N forces her mouth further down and sucks, hand reaching between his thighs to massage his balls.

He’s crying out her name as he releases, spurts of warm come shooting down her throat as her own orgasm rakes through her body.

Harry laps it up the best he can, cock still buried down her throat as she comes around his fingers and drips into his mouth. She’s begging for him, whining his name as he removes his fingers and sucks them dry.

She can feel him soften against her tongue, and with as much energy as she can muster up, she pulls off him with a heavy breath.

“Y’okay?”

She hums, a little floaty if she’s honest but it worked. It made her forget and now all she wants to do is sleep.

“Mhm, thank you.”

Harry grins tiredly to himself, helping her off his chest and to lay back beside him. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and plants a gentle kiss to her forehead.

“Let me get you some water.”

Y/N watches him through bleary eyes as his cute, naked bum moves over to the desk across the room. He comes back, soft length still impressive, and hands the bottle to her with the cap undone.

“Here, take a sip,” he guides the bottle to her lips and encourages her to drink before taking a swig for himself.

Harry climbs into the bed beside her, arms outstretched and she’s quick to nuzzle into his hold. He strokes the hair from her face, keeping her close.

“Get some sleep. I promise I’ll still be here in the morning.”

Rustling from outside the hotel room is what stirs Harry awake. He’s groggy as he blinks away the sleep, arms aching from Y/N’s head as she lays cuddled up to his chest.

His heart swells for a moment at the sight of her — and then he hears it again, the noise. There’s whispers and footsteps padding outside the door, three voices.

He’s careful when he stands, not wanting to wake Y/N if he’s just overreacting. But when he levels his eyes with the peephole of the door, his flight or fight kicks in and his heart thumps in his ears.

Harry pulls away from the peephole quickly, back against the door as he tries to remain as silent as humanly possible. Y/N stirs in the bed, reaching out for him but he’s not there to cuddle again.

Her eyes flutter open, brows furrowed as she slowly lifts her head from the pillow in search of him. That’s where she spots him, against the door with a bewildered look in his eyes.

Her mouth opens to speak, but she quickly shuts it when Harry brings a finger to his lips, signalling her to stay quiet. Her heart begins to thump again, bile in her throat and she’s frozen on the bed, sheets clutched close to her naked body.

“Let’s try upstairs,” he hears Ryce say, “They’re not on this floor.”

Harry waits a moment before turning his body to peek through the peephole again. They’re slowly sauntering off down the hall, clicking the button for the elevator and stepping inside shortly after. He turns back to Y/N, chest heaving and eyes wide.

“Penny, get dressed. We need to leave, now.”

It’s a rush, to get dressed and throw everything haphazardly into Harry’s backpack. Their hearts patter wildly, breathing ragged as fear consumes the pair of them.

It’s frantic, how he looks at her, keeping her behind his back as he slowly opens the door to peek his head out. He scans the hall, straining his ears for any sound of movement and when he falls short, he very quickly and quietly tugs her out of the hotel room.

Harry leads them to the staircase, trainers skidding across the linoleum floors with every step they jump down.

“They found us, didn’t they?” she asks through laboured breaths.

He doesn’t reply, instead tightens his hold on her hand and forces her to move quicker, taking three steps at a time instead of two and she struggles to keep up with his long strides.

Harry pushes through the door of the stairs, not slowing as they race through reception and out into the cool air of the early morning. It’s then that they break into a sprint across the parking lot to reach Harry’s Chevy.

Then they hear footsteps, the door of the hotel building slamming shut. Harry throws a glance over his shoulder, catching sight of the three lunatics that are after them.

They’re slowly approaching, picking up their pace as Harry and Y/N get closer to the car. He unlocks it from a distance and throws the backpack to Y/N.

He turns to her, finger pointing in her face. “Lock yourself in the car. If they get the upper hand, you drive and you don’t look back.”

The look on his face scares her, rattles her to her core. She tries to shake her head but Harry’s shoving the keys in the palm of her hand and pushing her closer to the vehicle.

The three of them grab him at once; Ryce and Scott holding him by the arms and shoulders as the bigger man, George, throws punches against his stomach. The sight of it makes her sick, has her knees buckling and heart aching.

Nimble fingers struggle to open the car, brain fuzzy as she rushes to throw the bags in the back seats. Y/N shuts the door behind her, locking the car again as her chest rises and falls with every shaky break she takes.

It’s torture, watching as they beat him – the way they pin his arms back and take advantage of his inability to fight back. He takes every hit and punch like a man, doesn’t allow his guard to falter no matter how hard the strikes may hurt.

And it’s like they see that, too. Like they notice it’ll take a lot more than a few blows to ruin him. Maybe that’s why George relents his assault for a moment and fixes his gaze to the car – to Y/N, cowering in the backseats like a lamb ready for slaughter.

And it’s when he slowly begins to stalk toward her that Harry’s heart begins to thump a little too hard. It’s when George starts to bash his hands against the backseat window that he starts to burn a fueling fire of rage.

He struggles against the hold that Scott and Ryce have over him, unable to tear his arms out of reach. Until he hears her scream and the backseat window smashing.

Y/N can’t breathe, heart lodged in her throat and tears stinging at her vision. She watches completely frozen as George reaches his hand in and unlocks the door. Watches the sadistic smirk that plasters across his lips as he opens the door and reaches for her ankles.

“No! Get off of me!”

Her screams are futile, her body breaking into hysterical movements. Her legs kick harshly at his grabbing hands, her foot striking his throat which allows her barely a few seconds to search for something, anything.

Y/N’s eyes avert to the footwell of the passenger's seat when she sees it. A crowbar. Her fingers wrap around the metal at the same time George’s wrap around her ankles. She’s pulled from the backseats, back crashing onto the concrete of the parking lot. And in one swift motion, her arm swings forward and the curve of the bar wraps around the side of George’s head.

In an instant, his heavy build falls off her – collapsing onto his side. She waits for a beat, her eyes wide and searching for any sign of life. There’s no blood, no sound. Tentatively and with trembling hands, she leans closer to his still body and poises her fingers beneath his nose.

One breath. Two, three.

She clambers away from him with a deep breath, unsteady as she rises to her feet. She’s allowed no time to process the situation, to calm herself. Because right before her eyes, Harry is fighting for his freedom.

This time, Ryce has Harry’s arms pinned behind his back, looping with his own and Scott delivers much harder blows to Harry’s face and torso. His legs kick out, arms thrashing in Ryce’s hold but it doesn’t do much damage.

Tightening her grasp around the crowbar, Y/N doesn’t quite know what comes over her. Whether it’s fear, anger or something entirely different. Whatever it is, compels her to swing the crowbar across the backs of Ryce’s legs – the shock and force of the blow buckling his knees just enough for his hold on Harry to relent.

Y/N doesn’t give him time to turn before she jumps onto his back with her legs around his waist and the crowbar wrapped around his throat. Her body moulds to his like a bear hug, an unknown strength unleashing itself in a desperate attempt to keep him from Harry just long enough to regain his strength.

And Harry doesn’t waste a moment of the opportunity. His fist beats against Scott’s face in rhythmic blows until his body is on the ground and he can’t fight back. Harry’s knuckles stain with blood and grazes, delivering a final pinch to the bridge of Scott’s nose before climbing off his bruised body.

His chest heaves, every breath feeling as though it tears his lungs. Harry spits the build up of blood in his mouth on the floor, rolling his shoulders back and flexing his fingers before they return to their fisted state.

Ryce is red in the face, fingers wrapping around the crowbar that Y/N pulls against his throat. The anger in her face is starling to Harry, something he’s never seen before — not even in himself. A hatred so pure it could kill.

Harry approaches them quickly as Ryce throws back his elbow and it meets with the side of Y/N’s stomach. All at once, her hold on the crowbar and him falters and she’s sliding off his back and doubling over on the concrete.

Ryce throws a punch but Harry is quick to dodge, despite the fact he’s still attempting to catch his breath. Before he rises, he reaches for the crowbar and swings it against the side of Ryce’s body.

He seethes out in pain, struggles to stand straight to fight back. He messily throws his fist, easier for Harry to dodge this time and he returns it with another blow across his knees with the crowbar.

Harry throws it to the side, watching with heavy breaths as Ryce tries to steady himself again. Harry doesn’t give him the chance. He squares his fist against the side of his face and he pummels to the ground.

It’s silent for a moment, aside from Harry’s rapid breathing and Y/N’s soft whimpers as she clutches her stomach and steadies herself on her feet again.

Harry backs away from the mess they’ve created, guilt crawling up his throat as he turns to look at her. There’s a cold expression painted across her face, eyes void of anything other than a predatory gaze.

She’s got the look of someone who’s desperate to survive. That’s what this is now, sink or swim. And she knows it.

They don’t share any words, just a look. But that’s all that’s needed. That one look says everything. They’re in this together — it’s them against anyone who tries it.

It’s silent as they both get into the car, Harry picking his keys up from the floor before he starts the engine.

It’s silent when they pull out of the car park, the sound of the cold air whipping through the shattered window in the backseats.

It’s silent until Y/N finally speaks. “Where are we going?”

Harry waits a beat, eyes focussed on the road. He can’t bring himself to look at her, to be faced with her expressionless gaze again. So he looks forward, grips the wheel and clears his throat.

“To see an old friend.”

His body is beginning to hurt as he pulls into the familiar garage. It’s been a while since Harry’s been here and everything looks the exact same as it did last time.

He kills the engine, lets his hands slip from the wheel and he finally turns to Y/N, who’s already looking at him. She takes him in, properly. The cuts and bruises that begin to form on his soft skin, the bags that protrude under his eyes from lack of sleep and a couple of punches he caught.

It hurts her heart to no end. She wishes none of this was happening.

“Are you okay?” he finally speaks, voice soft.

She nods, but they both know she’s not. Not really.

“Are you?”

He huffs out a small laugh and reaches for her hand that sits in her lap. “I’ve been better.”

She doesn’t understand it — how he always has the energy to try to make light out of any situation. Y/N looks away briefly, taking in the surroundings of the garage.

It’s like any other she’s been to. A few old cars spread across the place, some that are very clearly undrivable and others that she thinks probably only needed a quick fix.

Her brows pinch when she thinks about why they’re here. Is a blown back window really what’s important right now? She looks back to Harry with parted lips, but he already knows what she’s going to say.

“It’s my friend's garage. He’ll be able to help with more than just a smashed window.”

Y/N nods curtly, unsure if she’s understanding what he’s letting on. She also doesn’t have any suggestions as to what the fuck else they could do to help them out of this situation, so she puts all her trust in him and this unknown friend, and prays that her brother will keep them as safe as he can.

Her eyes look forward again, noticing a man and woman emerging from a wide door to the left. She looks back to Harry, a smile on his face as he opens the door and clambers out.

Y/N follows suit, shrinking into herself a little as the two unfamiliar faces grow closer.

“No call?” the man speaks loudly, arms across his chest.

Harry shrugs, walking closer. “No time.”

A smile breaks across the man’s face as he and Harry meet in a brotherly embrace. They’re squeezing tight, smacking each other’s backs until the man pulls away and gets a look at his friends face.

“Christ, H… did you even get a hit in?”

Harry smacks him in the chest and moves slightly to greet the woman. “Hey, Ashley. How’ve you been?”

She offers him a small hug and smiles. “Better than you it appears.”

Harry pulls away with a seemingly shy smile, turning back to Y/N who remains hovering by the Chevy. He points to her with an open palm. “Penny, this is Ashley and Jimmy. Guys, this is Y/N… Sammy’s sister.”

A heavy silence falls upon the shop – so quiet they’d be able to hear a pin drop. She offers a half wave, pursed lips and teary eyes. Harry is quick to make his way by her side again, an arm wrapped loosely around her waist to offer some form of reassurance.

“Jimmy and Sam used to knock about together,” he tells her. “Jim’s actually the one that found the club and convinced Sammy to take it on.”

He offers a polite smile and wave but there’s nothing but pity in his eyes. “I’m sorry for your loss. Sam was a one-of-a-kind kid.”

She nods, doesn’t want to reminisce on her late brother. Not right now. Not after the morning they’ve had.

Harry clears his throat and scratches at the nape of his neck. “M’sorry to throw it on you guys, but d’you mind if we crash for the night? We’re in a bit of a mess right now.”

There’s no hesitation when both Jimmy and Ashley nod their heads. “Of course, stay as long as you need. Come on upstairs, I’m just about to fix up some lunch, you guys can get cleaned up.”

Harry follows them through the garage, hand on Y/N’s lower back to guide her through. She stays close to him, far too on edge to be as trusting as Harry. She has to remind herself that they were also Sammy’s friends. And he didn’t put his trust in just anybody.

“Thank you, I promise we’ll be out of your hair by morning.”

Their apartment above the garage is nice. It’s rustic and chic at the same time and Y/N finds herself drawn to the canvases that litter the walls in the hall and living room.

Jimmy seems to notice. “They’re Ash’s,” he says with a smile. “She’s a wicked artist.”

Y/N hums, a small smile painting its way on her own lips. She’s desperately trying to ignore the dull ache in the side of her stomach, tries to play it off like every breath isn’t hindering her in some small way.

They follow through to the kitchen, the same sort of vibe with a wooden kitchen island and black, steel stools. Harry guides her to take a seat and sits himself beside her, both watching Ash as she pours them each a cup of coffee.

“Did the Chevy take as much damage as you?”

Harry scoffs out a laugh and takes a sip of his drink. “Still as mouthy as ever,” he quips back. “But no, she’s just fine – apart from the back window. That got smashed to fuck.”

Y/N watches them back and forth, how they talk with such ease, like the past twelve hours didn’t happen. It has her head spinning, has her second-guessing that Harry isn’t taking this as seriously as he made her believe.

She stands abruptly from her stool, the steel screeching across the hardwood floors. All eyes fall on her and she gulps. “Can I use your bathroom?”

Ashley nods, pointing to the door just down the hall. Y/N mumbles a quiet ‘thanks’ before rushing off and pressing her back behind the locked door.

She just needs a moment. A moment to think and breathe. This is all way too much for her to handle right now and she’s never felt so alone in her entire life. It hurts her heart, her head – everything. Tears are stinging at her waterline, threatening to spill over but she wills them not to.

A small knock on the door is heard and then… “Penny? It’s me.”

Y/N swallows down her feelings and unlocks the door. Harry lets himself in; worrisome eyes and tender hands on her arms as he closes the door behind him.

“Y’okay? I know this is all probably scaring you.”

She stares at him blankly. “Scaring me? Harry, I’m fucking terrified and you’re out there laughing without a care in the world, having a catchup with an old friend, while I’m just silently freaking the fuck out.”

He coos her, pulls her into his chest and ignores the pain he feels as he holds her close. “M’sorry, m’just trying to forget about it all for a moment. I’m not going to let anything happen to you, I swear.”

Her breathing is erratic against his chest, hands balling fists of his shirt on his back. Harry strokes the hair from her face and kisses her temple, shushing her the best he can to try and encourage her to steady her breathing.

“I’m sorry,” she mumbles into him.

Harry shakes his head. “You’ve got nothing to apologise for. Why don’t you go for a nap, hmm? Jimmy’s gonna take a look at the damage on the window and I’m gonna talk him through everything that’s happened… see if he has any ideas.”

While a nap does sound good, Y/N’s not sure she’ll be able to switch her mind off. She doesn’t tell Harry that, though. She figures he’s also got enough on his mind, he doesn’t need to be dealing with her fussing all because she can’t sleep.

So she nods her head and pulls out of his embrace. “Yeah, okay. A nap sounds good.”

It turns out it wasn’t as hard to fall asleep as Y/N thought it would be. As it goes, severe stress and exhaustion happen to have that effect when the adrenaline wears off.

Ashley was kind enough to lend Y/N a spare top and some sweatpants, washing her previous clothes so they would be clean and dry for when they leave tomorrow. She stretches in the bed of the guestroom, eyes flickering to the clock that reads 17:08 and her eyes widen.

She didn’t expect for a little nap to turn into five hours of sleep and she’s slightly upset that Harry didn’t think to wake her. Her stomach grumbles and it’s only now that she realises she hasn’t eaten in just over twenty-four hours.

Her fluffy sock-clad feet carry her out into the hall, light chit-chat coming from the very end and she follows to the source of it.

They all sit at the kitchen island; Jimmy, Ashley and Harry. There’s a frown set between each of their eyebrows but Harry’s soothes out when he notices Y/N’s lingering presence by the doorway.

“Hey, are you feeling any better?”

She hums. “A little.”

He pulls out a chair for her to take, Jimmy and Ashley quietly talking between themselves as Y/N sits with them. Harry offers her his drink and she takes the glass in her hands, swirling the brown liquid as she brings it to her lips.

“It’s whis—“

She gulps down his drink before he can even finish — doesn’t even care what it is just that any drop of alcohol will do for now.

He stifles a laugh and takes back the empty glass, reaching for the bottle on the middle of the table to refill his drink.

“What are you talking about?” she asks, all eyes now on her.

Harry clears his throat. “Just trying to figure out how to get rid of the guys that are after us.”

She raises a brow, somewhat expectant. “Any luck?”

“No, not yet.” She hears a voice, her eyes following the sound to Harry’s phone that’s on the kitchen island, Niall’s contact on the screen.

“Oh,” she peeps quietly. “Hi, Niall.”

“Hey, Y/N. How are you holding up?”

She scoffs. “About as well as Bambi on ice.”

He laughs at her comment, a hearty one at that. Harry smiles softly at her, can feel the nerves and anxiety bubbling off her aura in waves. It hurts to see her like this, so curled into herself and scared.

“So, let’s lay it all out again,” Ashley speaks a little louder.

Harry and Jimmy lean forward in their seats simultaneously. “As far as we’re aware, it’s just the three of them; the brothers—“

“—Wait, they’re brothers?” Y/N pipes up with knitted brows.

Harry nods. “Mhm. A lot of the guys that train at The Box were in gangs, the Scavello brothers were rivals to a bunch of them. They’ve all got screws loose, multiple personality disorders.”

“And schizophrenia. The worst case of it.” Niall chips in.

The newfound information does nothing to cease her fears. If anything, it only intensifies tenfold and Y/N begins to find it difficult to breathe.

“Right,” Harry swallows thickly. “So it’s the three brothers, all hellbent on getting revenge for Sammy not paying them they’re thirty grand. We already know they won’t stop until they get the club or feel… satisfied enough to move on.”

There’s something about the way Harry words it that makes Y/N shiver. She doesn’t know how much longer of this she can take, how much more dangerous it’ll get. At what point will they feel satisfied? When they’re run out of town? When they’re beaten and bloody? When they’re six feet under like her brother?

“They’re known for a lot of shady shit, too. Few years ago Ryce had stabbed someone in a pub… pretty sure he’s still on the wanted list.” Niall speaks again, like that’s the worst thing they’ve ever done.

Y/N has to bite her tongue. She doesn’t know if they’re aware of the truth about Sam’s death. And if they’re not, she isn’t about to announce it. She won’t allow for him to be remembered as the guy they killed.

Not now. Not ever.

“So have you not thought about tipping off the police?” Ashley asks, slightly incredulous as if it’s the most obvious option there is. (Which in all honesty, Y/N completely agrees with).

But Jimmy shakes his head profusely, clasping his hands together on the kitchen island. “No, no way. The Feds are already suspecting the club of illegal activity. It’s just going to give them more ammo. This needs to be dealt with in-house.” He points his finger downward, tapping against the counter.

Y/N chews on the inside of her cheek, the gears ticking in her head as she thinks of an alternative idea.

“What about a set up?” she suggests. “We meet them somewhere and… Ash, maybe you could call in and say you’ve driven past a group of guys attacking a couple…. If they get arrested it could give us some time to figure out something more solid?”

She knows it’s a lame idea, but it’s something. No one else seems to be putting theories to the table.

And of course, Harry is the first to shake his head. “No, too dangerous and they won’t fall for that. They’re insane but they’re not stupid.”

She slumps at his words, slightly offended by his tone but she doesn’t let herself get into that. Really, Harry’s distaste to her idea is the least of anyone’s concerns right now.

All eyes fall on the phone in the centre of the table, “Any ideas, Ni?”

He’s silent for a moment, then a huff is heard. “Personally, I think the best option will be to come back to the club. They’re gonna riot at some point. Might aswel be prepared for it. We’ll get the boys in tomorrow and figure out a plan between the lot of us.”

It’s a bit annoying that the simplest of ideas doesn’t suck. That logically, it’s probably the smartest and safest move to make. Because Niall is right. Eventually, the brothers will riot the club, and what the fuck are three psychos against a gym full of angry boxers?

The doorbell sounds through the kitchen and pulls Y/N from her thoughts. Jimmy stands, legs of his stool scratching against the floor as he grabs his wallet from his back pocket.

“Let’s call it a night then. Pizzas here. We’ll regroup tomorrow.”

The mention of food almost has Y/N’s mouth watering. They say their goodbyes to Niall, no one’s stress easing in the slightest but at least they have somewhat of a plan and she doesn’t feel so alone anymore.

Those boys at the gym would fight tooth and nail to protect Sam’s legacy. She just prays that it’ll be enough.

Not much is said as they eat their dinner. Harry and Jimmy reminisce on a few memories with Ash chiming in here and there, but for the most part Y/N stays silent and focuses on her food.

They stay like that for another hour or so until Harry’s eyelids grow heavy and start to sting. He’s exhausted, to say the least. His body still aches and as he glances over at Y/N, he can tell that the five hour nap has only made her more tired.

He leans closer to her, lips ghosting her ear. “D’you wanna go to bed?”

She turns her head just slightly to get a look at him. His face is a lot more busted as the night has gone on and the sleepiness that takes over his features pinches her heart a little.

Nodding her head, she stifles a yawn. “Yeah, you look pretty tired, too.”

Harry grins as he rolls his eyes, leaning away from her now to finish the last of his whiskey. He places the glass back on the counter, clearing his throat to catch Ash and Jim’s attention.

“We’re going to head to bed, long day tomorrow.”

Jimmy puffs out his cheeks with an exhale, nodding solemnly. Y/N gets it, can practically feel the anxiety that rolls off him. While he’s good at masking his expressions, there’s not much he can do about his vibe.

“Yeah, yeah, no worries. You know where everything is if you need anything.”

Harry guides Y/N off her stool and down the hall again after saying goodnight to the others. They don’t bother to turn on the light, instead opt for blindly feeling for the bed with their legs and Harry helps her get comfy.

She expects him to round the bed and crawl in next to her, but he doesn’t. Instead, he brushes the hair from her face and stands back with a gentle smile as he regards her.

Y/N’s brows pinch together when he speaks. “I’ll be next door if you need me.”

“Why?” she asks.

“Why what?”

“Why aren’t you staying here with me?”

He smiles softly, shuffling closer to the foot of the bed again. “Didn’t want to assume, that’s all.”

It makes him feel something deep in his stomach — how she craves his presence and wants him close. There’s a swell of something similar to pride in his chest at the realisation of how deep her trust for him runs.

“D’you want me to stay, Penny?”

She sinks further into the bed, seemingly trying to hide half of her face from his gaze. “Only if you want to,” she replies.

Harry’s smile grows slightly and he nods his head, kicking off his shoes and shimmying out of his jeans. She watches, rather closely. He’s right beside her still as he strips down to his boxers before he closes the door and approaches the other side of the bed.

The sheets are cool against his warm skin, small hisses and grunts slipping from his lips at the discomfort in his ribs and abdomen. It makes Y/N feel funny, knowing just how hurt he must be. She was witness to the assault, she’s a little surprised how well he’s taking it.

She has to remind herself that he is a boxer. And a fucking good one at that.

Y/N turns onto her side, her face just a couple of inches from Harry as their eyes adjust to the darkness, desperately trying to map out the others face under the dim moonlight that threatens to peek through the curtains.

Her ankles rub together as they do every night as she tries to settle herself for bed. Something she’s done ever since she was young. Harry can feel the movement beneath the sheets, but to him, he reads it as a sign of feeling cold. So he shuffles a little closer and intertwines their legs, resting a heavy palm on her hip.

“Harry,” she whispers into the night and he’s already looking at her.

“Yeah?”

She waits a moment, unsure if there’s any use in admitting her quarries right now. There’s nothing he can do or say to soothe her, not with the mess that awaits them.

And yet she finds herself uttering it anyway. “I’m scared.”

The broken octave of her voice is felt deep in Harry’s chest, that primal and protective sensation kicking in again. It makes his brows twist in something that can only be described as annoyance. But it’s not directed at her, Harry doesn’t think it ever could be.

“I don’t see an end where we all make it out of this.”

The admittance she whispers aloud is frightening to her. As if speaking her fear is willing its existence to the universe. It has her cowering into herself with shaky breaths and eyes tightly shut.

“We will,” Harry speaks, not allowing a second of doubt to build in her pretty little head. “I’ll make sure of it.”

Her eyes peak open slowly, readjusting to the darkness again when Harry slowly inches closer until the tip of his nose nudges against hers.

“Before Sammy died, he always told me to look out for you — in case anything ever happened to him. I keep my promises, Penny. No matter what it takes.”

She believes him, wholeheartedly. She trusts that he’ll keep her safe, that he’ll fight for the club. The blanket of safety that comes with Harry’s presence begins to consume her — keeps her close and warm and respected.

Maybe that’s why her eyes begin to droop until she can no longer keep them open. She cuddles into his chest, face nuzzling in the crook of his warm neck and his scent envelopes her senses as she slips into a slumber.

Harry can feel her soft breathing even out until her body relaxes against his. He lays awake, admiring the slope of her nose and her lashes that flatten across her cheekbones.

The need and desire to keep her safe prevails over any other senses. His mind falls short when he considers what he wouldn’t do to protect her, to give her the life she deserves.

And it’s not because Sam asked him to.

When the sun rises and the moon rests, the tension they felt the day before returns full force. Few words are shared between the four of them as they prepare for the day ahead. It’s like nobody wants to state the obvious, that this could very well be the last time Jimmy and Ashley see Harry and Y/N.

She tries her best not to think about it, not to get too deep in her head. She’s brushing her teeth in the bathroom, eyes lacking their usual glint but that’s no surprise — she doesn’t think it’s been there since Sammy’s death.

A knock on the door breaks her gaze from her reflection. Harry leans on the door frame, arms folded over his chest as he offers the young woman a soft smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Jimmy’s just finished replacing the window. We’re good to go whenever you’re ready.”

He keeps his voice light and soft, not wanting to pressure her when their situation is already stressful enough. She nods her head slowly at his words, rinsing off the toothbrush under the water.

“Yeah, okay. Uh, just give me a minute?”

“Sure. I’ll be downstairs when you’re ready.”

He leaves her in the bathroom, bounding down the stairs as he returns to his friends in the garage. Jimmy’s wiping his hands on an old rag before flinging it across his shoulder.

“She’s all set, changed out your back tire, too. Looked like it was about to blow.”

Their hands meet in a greeting, chests bumping in that brosome hug most guys do. Harry sits his hands on his hips as he takes a look at the Chevy. As good as new, he thinks.

“Man, I appreciate you and Ash helping us out. You really saved our asses last night.”

Jimmy waves his hand in dismissal as he shakes his head. “Don’t worry about it, it’s what brothers do.”

There’s an appreciative smile on Harry’s face as the door opens again and Y/N’s body shuffles through. Even from across the garage, he can see that glimmer of uncertainty in her eyes.

She approaches quickly, and by the way her shoulders are slightly raised and head a little ducked, Harry can tell she’s anxious.

He holds an arm in the air for her, allowing her to settle into his side before resting the arm across her shoulders.

“Thank you, for everything,” she says just loud enough for Jimmy to hear.

He nods curtly, leaning forward on one foot with an open palm for her to shake. “It was lovely meeting you, Y/N. I’m just sorry it was under these circumstances.”

She smiles through pursed lips and shakes his head with the same pressure he offers. “Me too.”

She excuses herself to load the bags into the back of the Chevy and waits for Harry in the passenger's seat. Y/N watches them chatter quietly, the mention of Ashley being at work and that if they need anything to not hesitate to call.

It’s merely a couple of minutes before Harry joins her in the car, twisting the key to start up the engine and as he pulls out of the garage, he throws his arm out of his window to wave goodbye to Jimmy.

They share a look as they drive down the road, a nervous glance that promises they’re in this together. Harry reaches for her hand in her lap and intertwines their fingers.

She doesn’t say anything as he guides their hands to his mouth and presses a kiss on her knuckles. And he doesn’t say anything when she squeezes his a little tighter.

They remain silent for the most of their drive. It’s late afternoon by the time they arrive at the club and it’s safe to say their guards are up high. They’re eyes are scanning every inch of roads they drive through, hearts thumping in fear and anticipation.

But they don’t see anything.

Harry pulls up outside, putting the car in park and they both exit. There’s an eerie energy that surrounds them, like the universe is taunting and playing on their fears.

They can’t ignore it, even if they tried.

They enter through the back door, feet scuffling against the concrete ground as Harry guides her through. Niall had already rounded up the guys with the prompt of a family meeting taking place. So it’s no surprise that they’re already gathered by one of the boxing rings.

“Thank you all for coming,” Harry calls out to everyone as he and Y/N make their way closer to the group.

There’s a few mumbles of replies and gasps at the sight of Harry’s bruised face, and lots of nodding heads when they come to a stop before them.

“I’m sure you’re all familiar with the Scavello brothers and what they did to Sammy,” a chorus of disgruntled expressions appear throughout the faces of the group.

Y/N can’t look — keeps her eyes downcast on the floor.

“Well, they’re no longer in hiding. They’re back and they’re after us,” he sways his finger between himself and Y/N, “And this club.”

Niall steps forward, inching closer to the pair who regard the larger group. “We don’t know what’s going to happen, but everyone needs to be prepared in case something does.”

Harry watches the way his members nod their heads and clench knuckles into fists. He can feel the anger and heartbreak that resonates within the gym.

“I need every single one of you on guard in case they show up. This is Sam’s life here. And we’re going to protect it like it’s our own. Understood?”

It’s been four days.

Four long, gruelling days of looking over their shoulders and Y/N keeping her keys between her fingers whenever she goes to and from her car alone. Not that that’s been a regular thing, Harry had convinced her to stay with him and his place. And after a bit of compromise, Harry agreed to stay at Y/N’s so she wasn’t on her own.

And it was a bit awkward at first. She didn’t ask for him to stay in her bedroom with her, allowed him to turn the sofa into his temporary bed. But by the second day, the awkwardness evened out to a disturbingly, comfortable, domesticated situation.

Y/N cooked and Harry cleaned. They picked shows to watch together and neither left the house alone. Y/N remains on emergency leave for a week, but Harry’s assured her that when she returns, he’ll drop her off and pick her up.

There won’t be a chance for the same thing to happen again.

Today is no different. They woke up together, picked at their breakfast — both still struggling to find their appetite — and drove in Harry’s Chevy to the club this afternoon.

It’s nearing 5:30 p.m. and they’re both sitting together in the office. Y/N’s sipping on her coffee with a Manila folder in hand, Harry typing data into the computer while taking sips of his own blend every now and then.

“Do you think it’s a good idea to host fight nights with all this going on?”

Harry pauses his typing for a moment, head tilting as he looks at her. He hums, nods slowly. “You’re probably right, we’re just losing money each night that we don’t. The guys are gonna start getting frustrated. For a lot of ‘em it’s the only source of income they’ve got.”

It’s a tricky one, Y/N knows that. Their livelihood is important, but so is their safety. It seems more likely that the Scavello brothers would make an appearance on a busy night like tonight. Friday Fight Night.

A thought occurs to her. “What about an advance?”

Harry’s bows knit together. “An advance?”

“Yeah,” she nods. “We’ve got just over two hundred grand stashed under the floorboards, Har. We can offer an advance to those who need it — they can pay back in instalments when we start up fights again.”

He mulls the idea over for a few seconds, not really finding many cons to the proposal. He nods his head, digging through the draws of the desk for a notepad and pen.

“Want me to go and take names?”

Harry shakes his head. “We need to get this place looking legit first. Destroy anything that holds passwords, account numbers — anything that tries back to the illegal fights. If they or the Feds come snooping, our noses are clean and they have nothing to say otherwise.”

Y/N’s about to reply, to suggest burning any correlating paperwork when a ruckus from outside the office and in the gym is heard.

They look at one another, eyes wide and churning stomachs. Harry stands first, bringing a finger to his lips as he motions for Y/N to stay quiet. The ruckus gets a bit louder, a chorus of disgruntled sounds heard.

Harry inches toward the door first, an arm outstretched to his side in an attempt to keep Y/N behind him. She follows suit, hands trembling slightly and she struggles to see over his broad shoulders.

But Harry can see. He sees the three brothers, but they’re not alone. They’ve brought a posse with them and their hands are all equipped with anything you could think to use as a weapon.

Hammers, knives, baseball bats. If it wasn’t such a dire situation, he’d find it ironic that Ryce is gripping a crowbar.

He’s the first to notice Harry’s presence and his blood is quick to run cold. He taps at Y/N’s side, trying his best to buff out his body to shield hers from their view.

“Stay in the office and lock the door. Text Jimmy and get rid of everything.”

He shoves her backward slightly, reaching for the door handle to close it behind him. She locks the door with nimble fingers, racing around the desk to retrieve Harry’s phone and find Jimmy’s contact.

It’s Y/N. They’re here.

She drops the phone on the desk after sending the message, opening the bottom drawer of the filing cabinet. She can’t stop her hands from trembling, has to continuously replay the plan in her head.

Jimmy calls the police which gives Y/N time to destroy anything illegal while Harry fights them off just long enough for the police to arrive, and everyone prays that nobody gets hurt or killed in the meantime.

No matter how many times she reminds herself of the plan, it doesn’t soothe her fears. Anything could go wrong at any given moment.

It’s not just the three of them this time, they brought friends and it’s going to get messy.

She grabs Harry’s gym bag from the corner of the room and collapses to her knees by the desk. Her fingernails struggle to pry the floorboards up until she spots a flat-headed screwdriver poking out from the gym's tool bag.

It works to her advantage, a few good tugs and pulls and the floorboard pops up with a creak. She’s careful when she pulls it out completely, throwing it to the side and grabbing handfuls of the wads of cash.

Her movements are frantic as she shoves them into the duffle bag, the commotion from outside growing louder and louder. She fills the bag with the money and rushes to take off her jacket, throwing it into the bag to hide the cash and she zips it up, kicking it under the table and smacking her floorboard back in place.

Y/N moves to the filing cabinet, fumbling through the drawers in the desk for a lighter. The papers she retrieved earlier are thrown into the trash can, fingers desperate to spark a light but a thumping on the office door stops her — panics her.

It bursts open after the fourth budge, hinges almost flying off and there he stands, Ryce Scavello, bloody and bruised and gripping a crowbar.

All colour drains from her skin, a sickness within her stomach that’s all-consuming. There’s a maniacal smirk painted across his thin lips and the mark across his neck from her use of the aforementioned weapon still paints his skin deeply.

“Are you going to put up a fight as good as your brother?”

That fear morphs into anger the second the words escape his mouth, her eyes dark and blood cold. She flicks the lighter once more and it sparks a tall flame, and just as he’s about to step toward her, she throws it into the trash and the documents burn in a blaze.

Y/N dodges the first swing he throws, the curled edge of the crowbar nipping at her hair and pulling a few strands out of her ponytail. She can hear her heartbeat in her ears as she ducks from another hit and he laughs at her, sadistically.

“Well you’re certainly as fast as him. Did he teach you that, hmm? Did big brother Sammy teach you how to fight before I killed him?”

She does her best to block out his words, raising her fists to cover her face and her legs spread in the same stance Sam had taught her growing up.

She channels him, everything he ever showed her. She lets her brain reminisce about their occasional sparring sessions because Sam was hellbent on teaching her the right ways to defend herself.

Back then she always told him he was being dramatic, that she’d never put herself in a situation where she’d need to fight for her life.

And now, she can hear his reply in her ears, as clear as day: These situations find you, and you need to be prepared for them.

Ryce lunges for her again, catching her in the temple with his fist at the same time she kicks into his kneecap. The crunch of his bone is heard but it doesn’t stop him.

He somehow gets closer and wraps his hand around her throat, a vice-like grip as he slams her body onto the desk and knocks everything off, her and Harry’s coffees spilling on the floor.

Y/N thrashes her legs against him, fingernails scratching at the skin of his face as her thumbs probe harshly into his eyes. Ryce’s grip loosens just enough for her to try to shuffle away, but his hand is replaced with the crowbar and he’s choking her out like she did to him.

He’s seething above her, her own hands now desperate on the bar to try to pull it off, to give herself relief. It doesn’t work, he’s overpowering in every sense and the lack of oxygen she gets makes it harder to move.

Y/N’s eyes are frantically searching for something — anything — to use to her advantage. Her line of sight falls short until she notices the large metal stapler that’s hanging off the edge of the desk. She pries her fingers out as she stretches for it, nails scratching against the metal until she’s able to flick it closer.

The second she’s able to wrap her fingers around the stapler, her arm swings and it thuds heavily against the side of Ryce’s head. Once, twice, three times.

His hold on the crowbar across her throat loosens until he drops it onto the floor. Y/N’s gasping for air, eyes wide and chest heaving as he holds the side of his head in agony.

That’s how Harry finds them — Ryce on top of her on the desk, grunting in pain and anger. He doesn’t allow him another moment to regain himself before Harry swings for the side of his face and Ryce’s body clambers to the floor and off Y/N.

She’s frantic, struggling to grasp reality as Harry reaches her. His hands find her face, gentle touch as he coos to her, promises her it’s okay and he’s got her.

She gets a look at him, bloody and bruised and his bottom lip is split and already swelling. Y/N sits up with the help of Harry at the sounds of blaring sirens and she turns to him, swallowing thickly.

“Grab the money, we need to go.”

Her gaze meets the unconscious body on the floor, anxiety still bubbling in her chest at the realisation that in a few short minutes, this could be completely over with.

Harry reaches for the bag of money when he notices the trash can on fire. He doesn’t need to ask to know she’s burned the documents. They leave the contained fire to burn as they leave the office, both hobbling and gasping for breath.

Police begin to infiltrate the gym, batons in hand and guards to their bodies — as they would for any kind of riot. There’s at least seven officers, all shouting commands to get on the ground or stay where they are.

The gym is in distress. Photo frames and trophies on shelves have been smashed and broken, weights are strewn across the floor, some clean and some with blood. Their hands all reach into the air in a form of surrender and before long, the majority of the trainers and rioters are in cuffs.

An officer approaches Y/N and Harry, quite polite as he assures them he isn’t going to cuff them unless given reason.

“A few of your friends said you two are the owners?”

Harry nods, clearing his throat. “Yeah, that’s right. We were in the office when they showed up and then a fight broke out.”

The officer squints at Y/N and she squints back, reading his name tag as Jones. He looks back to Harry.

“Who’s they?”

“Ryce, George and Scott Scavello. They’re brothers.”

Officer Jones raises an eyebrow at Y/N’s words. “You know them?”

“Uh, we’ve had some trouble with them in the past.”

Y/N’s head snaps to look at Harry, wonders what the fuck he’s going to tell the police, if it’s really a good idea to mention what they did to Sammy. Couldn’t Harry get into trouble for withholding evidence about a crime for all this time?

Jones clears his throat. “Do you wanna expand on that?”

Y/N decides to speak up again. “My brother, Sam, owned this place with Harry before he died. The Scavello brothers tried to join the gym but Sam didn’t want that kind of riffraff associated with the company. They didn’t take it well and now, I guess this is them fighting it.”

Harry watches her with fluttering eyes, slightly amazed and somewhat concerned with how easily she was able to fabricate part of the truth like that.

Officer Jones nods as he jotts down a rough summary of her words, looking to Harry in case he has anything more to offer.

He blubbers for a moment. “Uh, yeah… what she said.”

He writes a little more, turning to look over his shoulder to no doubt report anything extra he may need to. It’s only for a couple of seconds, which allows Y/N and Harry to share a look that screams don’t say anything stupid, and he’s back to facing them again.

“So, you say you’re the owners?”

Harry and Y/N nod simultaneously, eyes downcast to somewhat avoid the officers gaze. He hums, scribbling some more.

“Do you have proof of that?”

Harry nods. “Yeah, I can get you the ownership contract.”

Y/N watches meticulously, tries to work out what Officer Jones is writing by the way he scribbles but it’s no use. He taps the pen on the pad, looking around.

“Do you have any security footage? So we can confirm your story.”

Y/N looks at Harry. Do they? She hopes there isn’t a camera in the office, or else they’ll find the footage of her burning illegal evidence. But if they have cameras in the gym, isn’t that going to expose the fight nights? Her head is spinning.

“Yeah…. Niall!” Harry calls over for the blond, who quickly jogs over with a bruised eye and a cut across the bridge of his nose.

“Ni, would you mind showing Officer Jones the security footage from this evening.”

Y/N swallows thickly, watching as Niall guides Jones into the trashed office. She smacks Harry’s arm, eyes wide when he turns to her with pinched brows.

“Ouch… what was that for?”

She grits her teeth. “Why have you done that? He’s going to find all sorts on the cameras!”

Harry lets out a soft laugh and shakes his head. “We turn the cameras off at night.”

He watches her body visibly relax; shoulders slumping and eyes dropping. From their spot by the office, they can see the damage that’s been done.

Blood stains the floor in several places, gym equipment broken and there are at least seven holes in the walls that Y/N can see. She spots the brothers, all conscious now and strapped up with cuffs.

There’s a few more officers that take statements from the members of the gym, a couple of those being detained for aggravated assault and they don’t bother to argue that it was self defence. They played their part, they protected Sam’s legacy. And they know both Harry and Y/N will bail them out by morning anyway.

The adrenaline rush that she’s been on for the past week is slowly seeping from her pores. She doesn’t think she’s ever felt this exhausted in her entire life and the harsh realisation of what they’ve been through begins to hit her like a tonne of bricks.

“Harry,” she whispers softly, “I don’t think I can stay here anymore.”

He turns to her with pinched brows but her gaze is far too focused on the blank space ahead of her to realise.

“What?”

She swallows. “There’s too much pain here. Everything hurts since losing Sammy.” Her voice breaks as she speaks.

Harry blinks rapidly, trying to make sense of the situation. He thought they had something, that something genuine was forming between them and now she wants to leave? To run away?

“What about the club?”

She scoffs out a laugh, finally looking at him now. “You had it on lock this whole time.”

“Well what about me?” he argues. “What about us?”

There’s hurt in his voice and Y/N can’t help but feel confused butterflies in her stomach. Us? She never considered that there would be. Despite the two times they hooked up and the intimacy their friendship shared, she didn’t think Harry would ever want anything more. And now he’s telling her that he does?

It hurts her, deep in her soul. Because she harbours feelings for the fighter, strong feelings. But the thought of it scares her too much. What would Sammy think if he could see them now?

When she doesn’t reply, Harry speaks again.

“If you really want to leave, I’ll come with you.”

She laughs at this, and she laughs loud. Shaking her head, she looks at Harry again. That hopeful glint shines in his eyes and it breaks her heart.

“No, Harry. You barely even know me.”

“I know enough,” he retorts quickly.

Her hands find her hips as she turns her body to face his. “Harry—“

“No, come on,” he interrupts her, “Whatever this is between us is only just starting. Don’t walk out on it.”

She huffs, frustrated. “I’m not walking out on it.”

“You’ll regret it if you do. You’ll regret leaving the club and my Gran will be so heartbroken…”

“Hey,” she pouts. “Don’t bring Mary into this.”

“It’s true!”

There’s a wide smile on his lips now and one creeps its way onto Y/N’s, too. He knows what’s going on in her head — how she’s considering what he’s saying, what he’s feeling.

His gaze softens when their eyes meet again. Harry reaches for her hands, his thumbs brushing over her knuckles.

“At least think about it a little more before you decide to leave. Don’t make hasty decisions…”

“Harry…” she sighs, her smile faded to a slight grimace.

He’s right and she knows it. But it doesn’t take away the pain she feels in this town. It doesn’t make moving on from her brother's death any easier. Everything is a constant reminder of him and what happened to him.

Everything but Harry.

“Go on a date with me,” he proposes, though it’s more of a statement than a question.

Y/N’s brows raise as a smile tugs at the corners of her mouth. “What?”

“C’mon, one date. And if I can’t convince you that we have something real, and that you should stay… then I’ll understand.”

She catches her bottom lip between her teeth and weighs out her options. She could very easily decline and leave town right now, to never speak to him again or return.

But the idea of going on a date and seeing where this connection goes sounds a little more enticing. Because deep down she knows that running away won’t solve anything. It won’t make her forget the truth.

If she leaves now, she’ll never come back. And she’ll forever regret walking away from her brother's legacy and whatever her and Harry could’ve been.

He dips his head down to catch her line of sight again, a playful smirk etched onto his face as he squeezes her hands. Y/N makes her decision there and then; to not run away, but to stay and see where fate will take her.

“Fine,” she smiles. “One date.”

Feedback is always welcomed and appreciated!

Tags: @kissfromadove @stilesissaved @kiwitsayedsugar @savannahwendel @triski73 @stylesfever @babyyhoneyyy @theresnooneheretosave @ellaorchard @itsmytimetoodream @daphnesutton @matildasatellite

#harry styles imagine #harry styles smut #harry styles x you #harry styles #imagine harry styles #harry styles oneshot #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #harry styles x reader #harry styles fic #the box #boxerry

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treason-and-plot · 2 days

Text

[previous]

“You’re shitty with me because I didn’t tell you earlier?” Jackie says to Mia.

“Of course I am!” says Mia. “We’re supposed to be besties, for Christ’s sake! You should have rung me the second you knew!”

“Of course we’re besties,” says Jackie. “I’m sorry, babe. But I didn’t want to jinx anything. It still feels really….unreal. Like it’s happening to someone else. I don’t even feel pregnant.”

“I didn’t even know you were trying,” says Mia, a whiny tone slipping into her voice. She doesn’t care. She feels slighted, and overwhelmed, and a whole other heap of emotions that she’s scared to identify. Jackie looks at her beseechingly.

“We weren’t not trying,” Jackie says. “We just sort of had this attitude that we'd let nature take its course. Please be happy for us, babe. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. You know I’d never intentionally do that. But of course you’re right. If our situations were reversed I would have been mad too. Forgive me?”

“Only if you name the baby after me,” says Mia, glowering at her with mock severity.

“What if it’s a boy?”

“Doesn’t matter what the gender is. Still has to be named Mia. ”

“No problem,” says Jackie. “I’m sure Milo will be cool with that. “

“Sweet,” says Mia. “Now, who does a girl have to suck off to get a drink around here?"

#Mia #Jackie #return to Isla Paradiso #5 years later #sims 3

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kymerawrites · 1 day

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PART 2 maffia reader! X Simon

The days went by and slowly you started to get used to your old life again. You found yourself falling back into familiar routines and habits, and although it felt strange at first, it was also comforting in a way. As you sat at the bar with Miranda, she gave you a warm smile and placed her hand on your back giving it a gentle pat.

“I’m glad you’ve returned” she said as she took a sip from her glass of tequila “Everything was way too quiet without you here.”

You couldn’t help but let out a small scoff at her comment. “Is that your way of saying that you missed me?” You said with a amused tone, a small smirk tugging at your lips.

She chuckled and playfully rolled her eyes, “Maybe, but don’t let it get to your head.” She said with a smirk before taking another sip from her glass

I just started to hug her “I knew you missed your best friend!” I smiled

Miranda was taken by surprise at your sudden hug and she couldn't help but laugh as she hugged you back. "Okay, okay I missed you. Geez, you're clingy as ever, even more than before." She said jokingly

“What can I say? I just missed you that much.” You said with a smirk and a small shrug of your shoulders. You pulled away from the hug and sat back down on your seat, feeling a sense of comfortable familiarity with your best friend.

“Well tomorrow me and dad have our first meeting, he wants me back full in the business.” I said while taking a sip of my tequila

Miranda raised her eyebrows in surprise and gave you a look “Wow, he doesn’t want to waste any time huh? He’s really eager to get you full back into things.” She said before taking another sip from her tequila glass

You chuckled and nodded in agreement “Yeah, he’s never been the type to half-ass things. He’s probably eager to have me working with him again.” You said before leaning your head back against the chair rest

Miranda smirked and shook her head “And you’re just as eager as him aren’t you?” She teased, knowing you all too well “You’re such an adrenaline junkie, always wanting to get into action and violence.”

I rolled my eyes “I cannot deny that.”

Miranda let out a soft laugh and leaned back on her seat “See? That’s your problem, you always crave the danger and the adrenaline rush.” She said with a smirk “No wonder you’ve caused so much trouble.”

You playfully scoffed and shook your head “Don’t act as if you never liked trouble Miranda, you were just as bad as me back then.” You said in a amused tone

“Maybe even worse than me when it came to your temper Miranda..” I laughed

Miranda chuckled and gave a nod, a playful smile on her face “Yeah, I was definitely worse than you when it came to my temper” she admitted, knowing how feisty she used to be

“Remember that time in the bar when you slammed a man’s head onto the table because he tried to touch your ass?” You asked in amusement, recalling the memory of her infamous explosive temper

We just laughed and reminisced old times until it was the next day I first went to my dads office where he looked tired yet happy to see me

You walked into your father's office and couldn’t help but notice how exhausted he looked. Despite his exhaustion, he gave you a warm smile and stood up from his seat when he saw you. “Sol, mi amor… come in” he said in a tired yet affectionate tone

“I have a gift for you, and I want you to wear it with pride.”

Your father's words piqued your interest and you raised your eyebrows in surprise “A gift?” You asked in curiosity, wondering what he could possibly have for you.

Your eyes widened as you saw the content of the box your father handed you - a beautiful necklace with a diamond lioness pendant. You couldn’t help but marvel at its beauty and elegance, it was definitely an expensive gift

“It’s… gorgeous.” You said softly as you took the necklace gently in your hands, admiring the craftsmanship of the diamonds and the lioness pendant. You looked at your father with a slightly surprised expression “Are you sure you want me to have this?”

Your father smiled warmly and nodded “Of course I’m sure. I want you to have it, mi amor. Consider it a welcome home gift.” He said softly “And a symbol of your position in the family.”

You understood what your father meant, the necklace was not just a gift but also a symbol of your position and status within the family. You placed the necklace around your neck, feeling the weight of its diamonds against your collarbone

Your father smiled in pride as he saw the necklace around your neck “You look beautiful, Sol.” He said softly “It suits you perfectly.”

I just nodded my head “when is this meeting happening?”

Your father leaned back on his chair and looked at you “We have the meeting this evening.” He said in a firm tone “You are going to attend it, I want everyone to know that you’re back.”

“And I hope you can come up with a plan to double our revenue.. you’re a smart girl you know the game from inside till out and everything around it.. and I think your absence made you a lot wiser.”

You felt a sense of pride at your father’s words, knowing that he trusted your judgement and knowledge. You gave him a slight nod of affirmation “I do have some ideas that could be very useful.” You said assuredly

As Ghost stood at the isle waiting for his bride, he couldn’t help but feel a sense of unease and uncertainty. The conversation he had with Johnny had made him doubt his decision, questioning if he was doing the right thing. The sight of her abandoned house only added to his turmoil and confusion.

He fidgeted with his suit, feeling restless and anxious. His mind was filled with thoughts and doubts, and he couldn’t shake off the feeling that he was making a mistake. He looked out at the guests assembling, the church filling up, ready for the ceremony to begin.

He felt a pang of guilt for going through with the wedding even though his heart wasn’t fully in it. He knew that he was lying to himself and to everyone else. He took a deep breath, desperately trying to calm his racing thoughts and doubts.

As Ghost stood there with his thoughts racing, he realized that he was marrying Mia for a reason: she was everything he needed and wanted in a partner. She was loving, kind, and understanding, and she knew him inside and out.

Despite his doubts and turmoil, he knew that he had made a commitment and it was too late to turn back now. He took a deep breath and steeled himself, reminding himself that he loved her and that their marriage would be built on trust and loyalty.

As the wedding guests continued to fill up the church, Ghost tried to keep his doubts at bay and focus on the positive aspects of marrying Mia. He reminded himself of all the reasons why he loved her and why he had asked her to marry him in the first place.

And there she was, walking down the isle, looking angelic.

Ghost's breath hitched in his throat as he saw Mia walking down the aisle toward him. She looked angelic in her wedding dress, with her hair perfectly styled and a radiant smile on her face. Ghost couldn't take his eyes off her, feeling a mix of emotions coursing through his body.

But she saw the look on his face, she shook her head to the side as an indication to talk to him

Ghost felt her gaze on him and saw her shake her head slightly to the side, indicating that she wanted to talk to him. He couldn't ignore it, so he walked towards her, leaving his position at the altar.

He met her halfway, away from the guests and the altar, where they could have some privacy to talk. He could see the concern and confusion in her eyes as she looked up at him.

“What’s wrong?” She asked softly, her hand reaching up to touch his arm. “You look nervous…”

Ghost's heart sank as he heard the concern in her voice. He knew he couldn't keep his doubts and turmoil hidden from her. He took a deep breath, trying to find the right words to say.

She shook her head “it’s her right? The second thoughts.. isn’t it?”

Ghost's heart sank further as she accurately guessed what was troubling him. He couldn't lie to her, she knew him too well. He sighed and nodded, "Yeah, it is." He said quietly, avoiding her gaze.

Mia looked around the crowd trying to find her face “she isn’t here.. she’s gone isn’t she?”

Ghost's heart skipped a beat as he realized what she was saying. He looked out at the crowd, scanning the familiar and unfamiliar faces, searching for yours. But you weren't there.

He sighed and looked down at her, feeling a pang of guilt and relief at the same time. “Yeah, she’s gone..” He said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper.

She held his hand “then the message is clear, she’s gone and we can continue our wedding..” she smiled softly

Ghost was taken aback by her words and her smile. He expected her to lash out, to be angry and hurt, yet here she was, still offering to continue the wedding with him.

He looked into her eyes, searching for any hint of anger or resentment, but all he saw was understanding and compassion. He took a deep breath and squeezed her hand gently, feeling a mixture of relief, guilt, and confusion.

“Are… are you sure?” He asked, his voice a hoarse whisper. “You don’t hate me?”

She chuckled softly and gave him a gentle smile, shaking her head. “No, I don’t hate you.. I understand.” She said softly “I… I’ve known for a while now..”

“But shym isn’t here, which means she’s done, moved on maybe? Don’t let someone ruin our love for each other..”

Ghost let out a shaky breath as he heard her words. Her optimism and willingness to continue the wedding were endearing yet confusing. He didn’t deserve her. He was about to reply, but she spoke again, her words sinking in. “Don’t let someone ruin our love for each other..”

Ghost felt a pang of guilt in his chest as he heard her words. He knew deep down that she didn’t deserve to be in this position, to have to compete for his heart. But at the same time, he couldn't deny that there was still a part of him that missed you and longed for you.

Ghost took a deep breath and squared his shoulders as the ceremony continued. He repeated the words that were expected of him, saying "I do," yet he couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt and doubt in his heart.

He looked into Mia's eyes and tried to push aside the thoughts of you, but they lingered in the back of his mind. As the ceremony came to an end and the officiant pronounced them husband and wife, Ghost felt a mixture of relief and trepidation.

And here I was, in a meeting with a lot of powerful people in our little world, coming with proposals

You sat at the table, surrounded by powerful and influential people in the criminal underworld. They were all listening intently as you spoke, presenting your ideas and proposals with confidence and authority.

“If we want to make this work, we need the legals on our side, I suggest we make a deal with the defense minister, or make sure someone from our side wins the election that’s coming up, with that no one will blink an eye at our operations.” I said

There was a ripple of murmured agreement and nods of approval from the other people at the table. The proposal made sense, and it was something they hadn’t considered before. One of the men spoke up, “That’s a good idea. We could have someone we trust run for the position.”

There was a moment of contemplative silence as you walked around the room, deep in thought. Everyone was listening intently, waiting for you to come up with a solution to deal with the two difficult ministers.

One of the men spoke up, “Can’t we just threaten them? “ he asked, a glint in his eyes.

Another man shook his head, “Too obvious, we’ll draw too much attention. Besides, they’re well protected, it’ll be hard to get close to them.”

“Money and power is the answer, we’re dealing with hungry lions not scared puppies.” I scoffed

The men at the table chuckled at your remark. They knew you were right, they were dealing with two power-hungry ministers who didn’t shy away from corruption. They looked at you, waiting for you to continue.

You continued speaking, “The key is to make them an offer they can’t refuse. We need to give them something that they want more than anything else. power or money, or both.”

“And else, we’ll also put 2 of our trusted man or woman in the office.” I paused “if they won’t corporate, that’ll be our last resort.”

The men at the table murmurs in agreement with your words. They knew that you were right, they needed to be prepared for every situation and have a backup plan.

“Alright at last, the formula. What the actual fuck did you guys do with my formula?”

There was a moment of silence as everyone at the table looked at each other nervously. It was clear that they knew exactly what happened to your formula, but no one wanted to be the one to say it.

“No one has the right to modify my formula to make it less expensive, it’s a one of a kind drug no one else can recreate.”

Everyone at the table shifted nervously in their seats. They knew that you weren’t someone to mess with when it came to your formula. Finally, one of the men spoke up “We didn’t mean any disrespect. We just wanted to maximize profits by making it more appealing to a wider audience.”

You rolled your eyes. “Appealing by making it less effective. That makes perfect sense.” You said sarcastically. “The reason why my formula is one-of-a-kind is because it works. And messing with it ruins everything that makes it worth buying in the first place.”

There was a moment of uncomfortable silence as the men at the table avoided your gaze. They knew that you were right, messing with your formula was a stupid decision.

“I’ll forgive you for now, next time it’s your heads that will be the trauma of your wives.” I said coldly

The men at the table nodded feverishly, some of them sweating nervously at the thought of what you would do to them if they messed up again. They knew better than to mess with you, you were not someone to underestimate.

I just sighed “everyone dismissed.”

The men at the table let out a collective sigh of relief as you dismissed them. They got up quickly and filed out of the room, leaving you alone.

And then my dad walked up to me “you did great, it’s like your spark returned somehow..”

I rolled my eyes at my dad's comment, but deep down I knew he was right. I had felt a sense of excitement and adrenaline coursing through me throughout the meeting. It was as if all my old confidence and ambition had come flooding back.

Yet I couldn’t get my real spark out of my mind, the person I loved.. who was now married to another woman.

I sighed heavily as I thought about Ghost, the man I had once loved with all my heart. The thought of him standing at the altar, promising to love, honour and cherish someone else filled me with a pang of sadness and loss.

It was hard for me to believe that just a short time ago, I had been the one standing beside him, promising to spend the rest of my life with him. But now, that dream was shattered. He had chosen someone else, and there was nothing I could do about it.

But the voice in my mind told me to get over it, I got back to my family and he was married. After a while my mom also walked in, she was on vacation but came back when she heard her little girl returned after years

I smiled when I saw my mom walk into the room. It had been so long since I'd seen her, I had almost forgotten what she looked like. She was wearing a beautiful dress and her hair was styled perfectly.

She walked up to me and wrapped me in a tight embrace. "My baby girl," she whispered, her voice filled with emotion. "It's so good to see you again."

The cold demeanor she always had dissapeared once she saw me but she also saw the look in my eye, she asked my dad to leave so we could catch up

My dad nodded and patted me on the shoulder before leaving the room, leaving me alone with my mom. She led me over to a couch and sat down beside me, her eyes fixed on my face.

I winced at her words. She had always been able to read me like an open book, even when I didn't want her to.

"I don't know what you're talking about," I protested weakly, trying to mask my pain and anger. But the look in her eyes told me she knew I was lying.

“I don’t want to know the story, but I see that face, if this is about a man.. breaking your heart it means you really became soft.” She paused finding the right words to express herself to me

“You need to find a man who compliments your personality, someone that maybe be as worse as you.”

I listened to my mom's words, feeling a mix of irritation and frustration. I didn't want to admit that my heart was broken, especially not to her. But she had a point. Maybe I had become too soft, too vulnerable.

I chuckled dryly at her last words. "As if it's that easy."

My mom raised an eyebrow at my snarky response. "Nothing worth having is ever easy, sweetheart." she said, her voice gentle yet firm. "If you want to find someone who can match you in all your glory, you'll have to be patient and picky."

I swallowed hard at her words. She was right, I knew she was. I had always been drawn to men who were dark and dangerous like me, men who could match my intensity and fire. Maybe that's why my heart had been shattered; because I had chosen the wrong man.

I clenched my fists at the memory of Simon, how he promised to always stay by my side, how he swore that he would never leave me. But in the end, he walked away from me and found comfort in someone who was soft and gentle, someone who was the complete opposite of me.

I felt a surge of anger and sadness at my own foolishness. How could I have been so blind? Simon had never been the man I needed, yet I had wasted so many years on him.

A few months flew by in a breeze, I was back in business and we were once again at the top of the game, we had the whole country under our control with the influence I had. But I did raise eyebrows on the outside. Mostly from my old job. I worked with a lot of CIA agents to keep our business afloat but somehow they managed to find out.

As much as I tried to keep our operations under the radar, I knew it was inevitable that someone would eventually catch wind of our activities. So it didn’t come as a huge surprise when I received a call from one of my contacts with the CIA on the other line.

"We need to talk," they said gravely. I sighed and pinched the bridge of my nose. I knew what was coming.

I arranged to meet with the CIA agent in a secluded location outside of the city. I arrived at the spot a few hours later, dressed in a dark hoodie and jeans, trying to blend in with the shadows.

The agent was already waiting for me, standing outside a plain black car and smoking a cigarette. They nodded in greeting as I approached, their eyes narrowing as they took in my appearance.

I didn’t show myself today, he knew who I was I knew him for years “those pendejo’s need to always get in my businesses.”

The agent chuckled as I spoke. He knew me well enough to know that I wasn’t too happy about the situation. “Yeah, well, you can’t expect them not to catch on indefinitely. You’ve been making quite a lot of waves lately, you know that.”

“I have a great plan, make sure every bit of evidence goes towards my enemies group.”

The agent raised his eyebrows, surprised at my suggestion. "You want me to frame your enemies for your crimes?" he asked, taking a drag of his cigarette.

“Not only does it get rid of the suspicions they have on my father, I’ll also get them out of the game.”

The agent chuckled as he blew out a plume of smoke. "You're a real scheming snake, you know that?" he said almost admiringly. "But I have to admit it’s not a bad plan."

I took a hit of his sigaret “I’ll trust you to make this happen, I don’t want a surprise invasion on my hotel.”

The agent nodded, a sly smirk on his face. "You don't have to worry about that. I'll make sure the evidence is foolproof. Your enemies will be so screwed they won't know what happened."

Everything went according to plan until it was Simon’s unit getting the task to find out more about my enemies, but he’s smart in no time he’ll find sol Valencia.

As I heard that Simon and his unit were assigned to investigate my “enemies,” I couldn't help but feel a pang of worry. Simon was smart, he would see through the planted evidence eventually.

Price put down the pictures, the enemies group and my fathers picture

Price studied the pictures closely, studying the faces of my so-called enemies and my father's picture. "Seems like a pretty straightforward case," he said gruffly, looking up at the rest of the team.

Simon scoffed “Leonardo Valencia.”

Price raised his eyebrows, surprised that Simon had identified the leader of the group so quickly. “You know him?” he asked.

Simon nodded, a grim expression on his face. "Yeah, I know him. Or at least I know of him. He's a real piece of work, but he's not stupid."

Johnny rolled his eyes “that man owns a hotel, he’s old.”

Gaz chuckled at Soap's comment, giving him a playful nudge. "Yeah, old and rich," he pointed out.

Simon threw another picture “and a heiress. Sol Valencia.” It was a pictureless file, no one knew anything about me but my name

Price picked up the file and looked at the name. "Heiress?" he repeated, frowning. "You know anything about her?"

Gaz shook his head, looking puzzled. "I've never heard of her before," he said. Soap leaned forward, interested. "Maybe she's the brains behind the operation," he speculated.

Simon nodded his head “exactly and she even planted foolproof on another gang, which we now also have to take down thanks to this rat in the CIA.” He turned around to a scared man tied to a chair.

PART 3 SOON 🙏🏽

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