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stylesharrys · 3 days

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The Box | Part One [Boxerry]

When Y/N’s brother dies unexpectedly, Harry breaks the news that she now owns an illegal underground fight club. While she wants nothing to do with that lifestyle, Harry is determined to not let her brother's dream die with him.

A/N: so this was the Patreon exclusive series that I decided to bring over here to share with you guys. I wanted to turn it into one long fic for you guys but it was over the block limit so I've had to split it into two parts. It’s still a hefty one so grab some snacks and get comfy, and please be sure to read through the warnings before continuing <3

Warnings: (in no particular order, for both chapters) 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: 19.6k

In her 24 years of life, Y/N has only ever been to two funerals. Her first was when she was twelve, to the funeral of her great grandmother. Given, she didn’t know exactly what was happening, but she understood enough. She cried the entire time.

The second funeral she attended was her aunts. Just five years ago when she died in a freak car crash that killed twelve innocent people. Y/N was nineteen, fresh out of school and ready to start her new job, almost putting her deposit down on her new flat. She cried the entire time.

And now, at age 24, she stands at her brother's grave. The same brother that taught her to tie her shoes, that saved her from playground bullies. The brother that helped her move into her flat, that checked in on her when she wouldn’t eat for days while under the stress of their parents. The brother that comforted her after bad breakups, that taught her to fight and defend herself. The brother that risked and sacrificed so much, to give her the life she deserves because her parents labelled her a castaway.

She was the family disappointment because she didn't have her life figured out. Because she took up a job caring for the elderly, opposed to following in her mother’s footsteps and becoming a successful surgeon, or basking in her father's shadow of his worldwide corporations.

Both her mother and father standoff to her side, sniffling back tears of heartache as they comfort one another. Y/N won’t allow herself to mourn for her best friend with them. She won’t let them see her broken and ruined for her brother. Not for them to scold her, to tell her to pick her chin up and stop acting like a child.

She holds it all in as the rest of the funeral party disperse. It’s a fairly large turnout, even if Y/N and her parents don’t know or recognise half the mourners there. They told Y/N they knew him from the fights. Y/N told her parents they knew him from the docks. Even dead, his secret is safe with her.

Her cheeks are damp but not from tears. The wind has been lashing against her body for the past hour of the service and her eyes are still stinging. She doesn’t have to look in the mirror to know that her nose is angrily leaking, or that her eyes look awfully bloodshot.

She continues to hover at her brother’s grave, hoping maybe her parents will fuck off and let her have this moment alone. They don’t. They stand behind her, a few feet away, eyes on their daughter like hawks. Like she’s the unstable one. She has to scoff to herself.

Y/N lets her eyes run over his burial once more. Sammy Y/L/N. A loving son, brother and friend. She promises she’ll come back later, when their overbearing parents aren’t breathing down her neck and she thinks she knows exactly what Sam would say to her.

“Don’t say anything stupid. This is my day, remember.”

She has to fight back the teary smile that tugs on her lips and she turns around to her parents. Her hands are shoved in her coat pocket, shoulders hunched up to offer some form of protection to her ears against the lashing winds.

David reaches for her first, arm outstretched to coddle his daughter to his side. Y/N lets him — needs that comfort today even if it is just from her father. He kisses the top of her head, his wife, Layla, coddling in his other side and David feels a little relief, having both his girls on his arm.

“I hope you’re going to stay for the wake,” David asks softly. Y/N doesn’t miss the huff that slips from her mother's lips and she knows her dad has no doubt just pinched her shoulder because of it. She isn’t going to let them get her down, especially not today.

She nods. “I am.”

When they return to Y/N’s childhood home, she feels sick. She hasn’t been back here in almost four years and the last time she did, she got into an argument with her parents and Sam was the one to take her home and spend the weekend to make sure she was okay.

This time, she’s there because of him and he isn’t there to save her.

Nothing has changed. It’s still the same slightly outdated furniture but she can tell Layla got David to re-wallpaper the lounge. It’s quite busy, if she’s being honest, and Y/N’s feeling a little exhausted in preparation of cleaning up any little slip of the tongues these randoms let out.

The buffet has already been tucked into, Y/N’s grandparents having set out a lovely spread of Sam’s favourite finger foods from when he was younger. It’s solemn and quiet, save for the small bits of chatter between mourners and Y/N feels more than a little lost.

She’s shrugging her coat off and throwing it over the sofa, rubbing her hands together to get some friction of warmth back in her blood. The house is full of more unknown faces than it is with friends and family. They seem to keep to themselves in a separate part of the house and as much as Y/N wants to avoid them, intimidated and somewhat uncomfortable, she sucks it up and shimmies over with a tray of canapes.

The closer she gets, the less unfamiliar they look. She notices a couple of them, some faces she saw when Sam would pick her up from a failing date, or when she would go to his place for lunch and they would be just leaving. They’re all quite stoic, the seven of them and she clears her throat, a small, tight-lipped smile on her face.

The men part just enough to open their circle to her and she’s faced with tall figures and broad shoulders. In her small glory, she has to raise her chin to meet their gaze and she offers up the tray of finger food close to her chest.

“Um, thank you for coming. Sam would’ve appreciated it,” she mumbles the words Layla had been drilling in her head all morning.

They don’t say anything and Y/N lets out a shaky breath. “I take it you knew him from the fights?” She doesn’t miss the way their eyes widen slightly and two of the seven shift a little in their spot.

She laughs breathily. “It’s alright. My brother was my best friend, I knew about it all. Our parents still don’t, though. So I’d appreciate it if it stayed that way. They don’t need to know what he was really doing when he said he was at work.”

A few nod but she’s too busy staring at her feet to notice it. “So you’re Y/N?” A timid voice perks up and Y/N snaps her gaze to the tall blond directly opposite her. She nods shyly, eyes heavy and shoulders sagged.

The blond nods again. “Spoke about ya a lot, he did. Always said if anything happened to him, it was us that had to look out for ya,” he smiles sadly and Y/N really can’t help the tears that pool in her eyes. Typical Sam. Always looking out for his baby sister, even from the dead.

Her eyes rake over the group, some too solemn to make eye contact and others staring at their drinks. But the man to her right doesn’t look away from her face. His bright green eyes are captivating, to say the least, his broad shoulders making his 6ft frame even larger than it is and his wispy brown hair is barely styled but it sits well in a central parting, swooping just a little across the sides of his temples. From where she stands, his jaw and chin are a little stubbly, lips pink and a little damp from his drink.

He looks familiar, Y/N thinks she might’ve seen him in a few fight photos Sam had shown her before, and she can’t tell if he recognises her or not. Though, if she did see a picture of him before, she’s sure he would be in boxing shorts and a tight t-shirt, not a slick black suit with a white shirt and tie. He makes no effort to break the intense gaze he’s offering, so Y/N does. She wills herself to look away and scratches nervously at the side of her neck.

“Well, thank you again for coming. It means a lot.”

It was supposed to be an easy day. She had planned for a small arts and crafts session for the residents and some tea and sandwiches after. Y/N loved planning activities, it usually gave the other staff a chance to take a break or catch up on their paperwork.

But Dylan had a funny moment that resulted in a gloopy paint bottle being chucked at her head and she’s leaving work sporting a cut on her forehead and a three-hour-old migraine. She isn’t even leaving work at 3, like she usually would.

She’s coming out of the home at 6 because upon Dylan’s behaviour, he tore up the rest of the group's paintings and broke one of the staff laptops — resulting in two and half hours spent calming him down, administering PRN and writing up several incident reports.

She’s tired, she’s hungry and she just wants to sit down. It’s cold out, the sky thickening black above her and she knows a storm is due. She quite likes a storm, if she’s honest — just doesn’t much like to drive in them.

She’s rubbing out a kink in her neck as she approaches her car, eyes too busy rolled back as she walks blindly. Y/N sees the feet first — a pair of Adidas trainers — then her eyes trail up a pair of toned legs that are adorned in a pair of shorts. Her brows are pinched and she looks up some more, notices the man leaning on the bonnet of her car and his toned arms are folded over his chest.

It’s when she cranes her neck up a little to see his face that her worry is softly eased a little, but not entirely. She remembers him from her brother's funeral three weeks ago.

“Can I help you?” She asks, voice a little throaty and scratchy.

He’s got a baseball cap on his head, longish brown hair curling around the rim of it and his ears. His eyes are a little squinted and there’s a heavy stubble that decorates his jaw and chin. Y/N thinks he looks much more intimidating in this attire, opposed to the suit she last saw him in.

He drinks her in before he speaks. She’s wearing a pair of boyfriend jeans and a knitted jumper, and her hair is half plaited up, the rest falling into natural waves down her back. He thinks she looks quite pretty for an elderly support worker.

“I’m Harry. I used to box with your brother.”

She nods, biting at her inner cheek. “Figured that when no one recognised you or your friends at the wake.” She squints at him again, scratching at her sore neck. “Look I don’t mean to be rude, but what do you want? How do you even know I work here?” Her tone holds more accusation as she rambles on and Harry can’t help a somewhat amused smile tug on the corners of his mouth.

He shrugs. “I have my ways.” His arms are still crossed over his chest but he didn’t answer Y/N’s first question. She raises a brow and Harry inhales heavily before his shoulders sag and he drops his arms to his side. “I need t’ talk to ya about the club.”

Her brows are pinched harder than before and she shakes her head in confusion, shifting from one foot to the other. “Club? What club?” Her movement allows Harry to see the cut on her smooth forehead and he frowns, reaching closer to inspect it but Y/N’s too quick and with wide eyes, she backs away.

He realises his forwardness and holds his hands up in surrender; standing straighter. “The underground club. Y’know… the one your brother left to you when he died.” She blinks again, lips parting and she’s blubbering a little like she’s trying to understand what he’s talking about.

Realisation is quick to wash over Harry’s face and he nods. Of course Sam wouldn’t tell her anything about what she’d be taking over. Typical.

She takes a deep breath. “Why the fuck would I be left an underground fight club by my brother? He was just a boxer,” she sighs tiredly, punching the bridge of her nose and Harry frowns harder. So maybe she didn’t really know anything about him.

He shakes his head. “Your brother wasn’t just a fighter, Y/N. He owned the club. Sam was the best fighter we had in The Box and he bought it outright five years ago. Always said if anything happened to him, you’d be the one to take it over, do whatever you think best wi’ it.”

Y/N is silent, tears welling in her eyes and she stomps her foot like an insolent child, like she can’t believe this is fucking happening. “You’re telling me I now own an illegal underground boxing club?” Her voice is frantic, high-pitched and whispered through gritted teeth.

Her hands find their way to her hair, gripping on her roots in disbelief. “It’s a good business investment, if you're into that.” He shrugs, arms crossed over his chest again and he’s struggling to understand why she’s so worked up about it.

If Harry had just inherited a three quarters of a million pound business, he’d be fucking ecstatic. But Y/N isn’t ecstatic and she’s staring at him in complete bewilderment.

“No, Harry. No, I’m not into that. Sell it, give it away, I don’t care. I don’t want it.” She shoves past him, unlocking her car and opening the door. Harry’s watching with wide eyes and parted lips.

She can’t be serious.

He closes the door before she can fully open it and she seethes up at him, teeth gritted and all. “You can’t give it away and you can’t sell it! It’s your brother's life.” He fights back and Y/N bursts, veins popping and she pushes him away by his chest.

“And I can’t fucking keep it! I’m a care worker, for God’s sake! I can’t have shit like that tied to me.” Her hands are waving sporadically, chest heaving in panic as she rips her door open and clambers in the car.

Harry’s gripping onto the door, preventing her from shutting it. He never meant to show up and send her in a spiral of anger and panic. Harry digs into his pocket, pulling out a little business card and handing it to her, waiting for her to take it.

“Look, jus’... jus’ sleep on it, yeah? My number and the club's address is on this, jus’ take it ‘n think about it. Please.”

She eyes the card sceptically, gnawing on her inner cheek. She knows he’s right, that she shouldn’t ruin her brother's legacy with one shitty, selfish decision she makes. But she also knows that she’s right — that she can’t afford to have that kind of business in her name.

Y/N looks back up at Harry, lets her heart flutter a little under his gaze despite knowing these are awful circumstances to get butterflies under. But she sees the desperation in his eyes and she supposes maybe it’s because he wants Sam’s life to carry on through the business.

She takes the card and drives off.

“Why haven’t you been to see your brother?”

Y/N closes her eyes for a moment, struggles to keep herself in check. It’s been a long day and the last she needs is her mother chastising her on her break.

“Because I’ve been working double shifts all week, Mum.”

She hears her mother huff from the other end of the line, no doubt rolling her eyes.

God, why did Sam have to leave her all alone in this godforsaken world? Why did he have to get in that fucking car?

Deciding that Y/N does not want to be spending the last few hours of her shift fighting back tears, she cuts her mother off before she can think of anything else to question her on.

“Look, I’ve got to go. Meds round is in the next half hour so I need to get things sorted.”

The line is cut off as quickly as she speaks. Y/N tries not to get too into her head about her mother. About the lack of compassion the woman has shown her during both childhood and now, early adulthood.

If she allows her mind to wander down that path, she’s not sure she’ll ever find the exit.

She leaves the office after allowing herself a moment to compose herself. Across from her, the little light above ROOM 13 flashes and she smiles to herself.

She’s outside the door within seconds, knocking softly before letting herself in. “It’s Y/N… are you okay, Mary?”

The elderly woman sits in her chair, a ball of wool in her lap as she continues knitting. There’s a childlike grin on her lips, eyes full of excitement as she stares at her favourite carer.

“I didn’t think you worked Mondays!”

Y/N laughs, taking a seat next to her. She takes it upon herself to unravel a little more string for her.

“I don’t. I’m covering for Frankie. I should’ve come and said hello sooner, it’s just been a bit busy today, Mary. I hope you can forgive me.”

Mary smiles broadly, nudging Y/N with her elbow. “You know you’ll always be my favourite, Penny.”

She smiles at the nickname. Mary has called her that since her first day at the home all those years ago – when Y/N gave her a penny from her purse for her scratch card and she won the jackpot. That was it. Y/N was Mary’s lucky penny.

“How are you feeling today?”

Mary hums. “Oh, I feel so wonderful. My grandson is coming to visit today. And as far as I can remember... you’re still single, aren’t you?”

Y/N rolls her eyes playfully with a huff. “You’re not setting me up with your grandson, Mary.”

She pouts, unhappy. “Why not? He’s a handsome lad and you’re very beautiful. You’d make such gorgeous great grandbabies for me!”

Y/N almost chokes on her tongue, blinking fast as she tries to catch her breath. “Mary!”

“What? It’s not like I’m getting any younger!”

She can’t quite believe her ears. Mary has talked about her grandson a few times, but she’s never once alluded to setting him and Y/N up. She does not need her patient getting involved in her love life.

“He’s a handsome young man, your age… maybe a couple years older. And he’s a personal trainer! Even runs the gym he works at!”

Y/N pinches the bridge of her nose, eyes closed. She’s wondering if she’s got enough time to escape the building before her grandson arrives. She wouldn’t put it past Mary to scour the entire home for her.

“Oh, really?” she asks, playing into it for Mary’s sake.

She grins as she nods, looking back down to her knitting.

“And what’s his name?” Y/N asks, fiddling with the yarn between her fingers.

Mary gasps. “Harry!”

Y/N eyes widen at the volume of her voice, looking at Mary, who’s looking at the door.

“Hello, Gran.”

Oh, you’ve got to be fucking kidding.

“Of course it fucking is,” Y/N mumbles under her breath.

She stands, plastering a kind smile across her lips. Harry sees right through it, hiding his own smirk as he takes her in. Her attire is completely different from when he saw her last week.

Her hair is a bit shorter, and instead of her jumper and jeans, she’s wearing a pair of black leggings and a purple nurses shirt.

“Nice to meet you, Harry.” She extends a hand to him politely, which he more than happily takes.

He can see how much this pains her.

Mary clears her throat. “Harry this is Y/N… but I like to call her Penny.”

He raises a brow, looking between his Gran and Y/N.

“Oh, so this is Penny?” He looks at Y/N. “I had no idea you were my Gran’s favourite. She talks about you all the time.”

Y/N smiles through pursed lips, feeling a little embarrassed, though she’s not sure why.

“Thank you for looking after Gran, it’s lovely to meet you, Penny.”

She smiles tightly, nodding her head before quickly combing through her brain for an excuse to leave.

Y/N knows it's only a coincidence that the same man trying to get her to take over her dead brother’s underground fight club is also the same man that is her resident's grandson, but it still makes her head spin a little too much.

“I’ve got to get started on teatime meds. It was lovely to meet you again, Harry.”

She excuses herself as quickly as she can. Walking into the meds room, she feels like this is Sam’s way of forcing her hand. She looks up to the ceiling with a frustrated huff.

“Even from the dead, you’re a pain in my ass.”

A knock on the door makes her jump and as it slowly peels open, her eyebrows furrow. “What are you doing? You can’t be in here!”

Harry closes the door as he shuffles inside, hands up in feign surrender and there’s an apologetic look in his eyes.

“I’m sorry if me being here freaked you out a bit. I only visit Gran on Mondays because Sam never wanted us boys bringing trouble around you. I swear, I didn’t know you’d be working today. You’ve never worked Monday’s.”

Her shoulders slack as she exhales deeply. “He didn’t want you bringing me trouble, and yet he’s the one that left an entire illegal business to me.”

Harry huffs out a laugh.

“If he was secretly loaded, why couldn’t he have just left me some cash instead?”

“Honestly? Because he knew no amount he left you would equate to what you could earn running The Box. He’s only ever looked out for you, you know?”

Y/N scoffs out a laugh, shaking her head as she turns back to her paperwork. “I would’ve preferred it if he left me nothing. If Sam trusted you so much, why can’t you just take it over?”

“Because he didn’t leave it to me.”

“No,” Y/N huffs. “Instead, he left it to his clueless little sister who could really do without the hassle.”

Harry purses his lips shut, stuffing his hands into his pocket. If it weren’t for his bestfriend’s passing, he’d probably bark out a laugh at Y/N’s little strop.

“Look,” he begins. “No one is expecting you to take it over and know what you’re doing. Why else did you think he asked me to talk you through it?”

Y/N turns to him, a little pissed off. “And you couldn’t have started with that?”

She’s starting to feel like she could have a breakdown at any given moment. The last thing she needs is taking over an illegal underground boxing club with her dead brother’s friend showing her the ropes.

“I can’t deal with all of this right now. I need to get this meds round done, so if you don’t mind…” Y/N gestures to the door, her other hand on her hip.

She doesn’t make eye contact, her gaze fixed on the floor beneath her. Harry sighs, nodding more to himself than her as he reaches for the handle.

“You have my number. Don’t be afraid to use it.”

She stays silent as he leaves the meds room, a shaky exhale slipping past her lips as the door closes shut. She feels guilty, for being so snappy and rude. But Y/N isn’t sure how else she was expected to react.

Her big brother dies in a freak car accident, leaves a multi-million pound illegal business in her name and she’s supposed to just be okay about it?

Her heart hurts. For herself, for Sam. God, she misses him. She just wants to wake up from this bad dream and talk to her big brother about her day.

Y/N wonders what he would say to her right now if he could. Would he hug her and tell her it’s okay? Remind her that she doesn’t have to go through with this if she dosn’t want to?

She scoffs to herself. No, Sammy would be selfish. I looked after you, now you need to look after my legacy. She can hear his voice in her head, clear as day. It makes her smile, for a brief moment, before she’s overcome with sadness and anxiety once again.

In all honesty, Y/N needs to get her head out of her ass. If Sam had asked Harry to show her the ropes and help her into this transition, then perhaps she should be taking this a little more seriously.

She rolls her neck, taking a deep breath. She’s back to staring at the ceiling, like somehow it’ll connect her to heaven radio and she has to laugh at herself.

“I hope you’re pleased with yourself up there.”

Y/N stands outside, toes wiggling in her converse as she gnaws on her inner cheek. The building is a tall, dance academy, decked out with the poshest of entrances and Y/N tilts her head to the side. There’s no way in hell this is The Box.

Her squinted eyes flicker back to the card. Not much is on there – an address, Harry’s name, and number. She contemplated calling him before showing up, but she knew if she planned to do this, she would’ve backed out.

So instead, very spontaneously, Y/N drove here right after her shift – not even allowing herself time to rethink or second guess herself.

Gnawing on her bottom lip, she makes her way inside the entrance. It’s quite grand, beautiful even. The ceilings are tall, marble floors. If she’s honest, she feels extremely out of place with her slightly scuffed Converse padding across the ground.

She makes her way to the reception desk tentatively, tapping the business card on the knuckle of her thumb. The blonde woman looks up with a smile, though Y/N’s sure she’s likely judging her in her mind.

“Hi, can I help?” Her voice is soft as she speaks and Y/N clears her throat.

“I’m not sure,” she chuckles nervously. “My name’s Y/N… I’m Sam’s sister. I, uh… I’m looking for Harry?”

The receptionist's smile no longer meets her eyes as it begins to shrink. The look on her face makes Y/N’s stomach twist slightly, her polite smile faltering.

The blonde woman looks at her for a moment – it’s like a flicker of grief passes through her eyes before she quickly composes herself again. She fiddles with something under her desk, retrieving what looks like a key card and handing it to Y/N.

“You’ll be needing this. It’s the first door to your left, just down that hall.” She nods her head over to the other side of the reception and Y/N takes the card with pursed lips and a tight smile.

Nothing can ever describe the fear and anxiety that bubble in her tummy. If she’s being completely honest with herself, she’s terrified of what she’ll see behind that door. What harsh reality of Sam’s life she’ll be privy to.

It’s the closest she’s felt to him since he passed, and yet she’s never felt so distant in her entire life.

Behind the door, is a set of stairs. They lead to an extremely large expanse of a basement; concrete floors, and concrete walls. The lighting is dim and to her surprise, the place is bustling.

Three large boxing rings sit in the length of the basement, and gym equipment is spread out across the far right of the stairs entrance. She can see a small shower sign to her left, and right in front of her, she notices him.

He’s sweating, struggling to catch his breath. His hands are resting on his knees, his back hunched over slightly as he lets out shallow pants to gain control of his breathing.

Harry and his opponent stand in the middle of the ring. There’s a cocky grin on his lips as he stands up straight, tearing the Velcro on his gloves as he tugs them off his hands and throws them out of the ring. Jason, Harry’s sparring partner, waddles over, face beet red and chest splotchy.

“Good fight.” He shakes Harry’s hand, a tired yet smug look on his face and Harry can’t help but roll his eyes when he pulls away, taking out his gum shield as he does so.

He grins. “You tried.”

The sight of him makes Y/N’s chest heave. The sweat adoring his tattooed chest and torso, the way his golden skin glistens under the dim lighting.

She feels a bit more suited in this environment than she did upstairs. At least down here, she isn’t self-conscious about her tatty converse.

Y/N takes a moment to compose herself, letting her eyes flutter around the other trainers. She doesn’t recognize any faces, not even any from Sam’s funeral.

And amid her surveillance, Harry notices her presence. He’s unwrapping the bandage across his knuckles as he watches her, ignoring Jason’s words about going for drinks for Tony’s birthday.

When Y/N turns back to Harry, their eyes finally meet. She offers a nervous smile through pursed lips, barely raising her hand from the side of her body in a timid wave.

“Hey, you hitting the showers or what?” Jason’s voice breaks Harry from his little trance and he hums.

“Yeah. I’ll meet you guys later.”

Harry’s crouching under the top rope of the boxing ring, climbing over the bottom two, and jumping off the platform. He approaches Y/N with a breezy smile, his eyes light and welcoming.

“Hey.”

Y/N clears her throat. “Hi.”

There’s a moment of silence between them both. The gym winds down as more people head for the lockers and showers. Y/N notices and supposes it’s closing time.

“Are you closing?” She finally asks.

Harry looks around them. “Oh… yeah the guys are going for drinks for someone’s birthday. We open back up at 11 for the midnight fights.”

She raises an eyebrow. “Midnight fights?”

Harry nods. “Yeah… training during the day and then we host fights on Thursday, Friday, and Saturday nights.”

Y/N chews on the inside of her cheek, nodding slowly as she takes his words in. Harry can read her like a book and can tell she’s slightly overwhelmed but even more so, she’s intrigued.

He scratches the back of his head. “I can show you to Sam’s office if you want to talk?”

It takes Y/N a moment to consider Harry’s offer. She’s unsure if she’s mentally and emotionally prepared to see her late brother's office. She’s not sure how it’ll make her feel.

But if she can drive here after work without thinking about it too much, she supposes seeing Sam’s office would be better done spontaneously than planned. Because if she allows herself to think and ponder and doubt, she’ll never make it past the door.

So she nods her head with a soft ‘okay’ and Harry leads her through the gym.

Y/N notices the lock on the door first, then the key that Harry pulls out of his pocket. She wonders how close he and Sam must’ve been for Harry to have access to the office.

He pushes the door open and flicks on the light, allowing Y/N to enter first. She takes her steps slowly, tentatively. The office is small, nothing fancy. There’s an oak desk, an office chair, some filing cabinets, and framed photos of past fights on the walls. Photos that she does not have the strength to acknowledge right now.

Harry closes the door behind them both and drops the key on the desk. “I’ve been coming in here every day. Just to keep on top of things until you were ready to take over.”

His words are slightly muffled as he squeezes his head into a tight t-shirt, tugging it down his still-damp torso.

Y/N turns to him, a little overwhelmed as the tears begin to gather. “I don’t think I can do this,” she laughs tearfully.

Her arms are raised by her sides as she looks around the place. “Look at all of this. I have no idea about fighting or training. How the hell am I supposed to do this? Why did he think I could?”

There’s pity in Harry’s eyes and he purses his lips, upset for her. “Sam needed to know you’d be looked after if anything happened to him. He liked the idea of you continuing his legacy and inheriting all the riches that come with it.”

Y/N scoffs through her tears. “This is a lot, Harry. It’s not like he’s left me his hamster.”

He bites back a smile at her words. He knows if Sam could see his sister now, he’d be rolling his eyes and calling her a drama queen.

“Were you close? You and Sam?” She asks.

Harry takes a shaky breath, nodding slowly. “We were best mates. We were partners.”

Y/N’s eyes widen, eyebrows raised to her forehead in shock and Harry is quick to clock on to what she’s assuming.

“No!” He blurts. “Not like that, Jesus fucking Christ. Partners in the company, I mean.”

Y/N’s body visibly relaxes at the statement but it’s quickly replaced with confusion.

“Wait,” she holds her hand up. “If you’re a partner, why does it matter that I take over? Can’t you just have the company to yourself?”

Harry frowns. “No, Sam is the sole owner of this place. I helped him run things. I have twenty-five percent and you now own the rest. Sam left that to you. Which is why I’ll be the one showing you the ropes. Sam would arrange the illegal side of things – you know, book in the fights, set up bets and stuff. I would do the more legitimate side. Membership fees, taxes… keeping everything under the radar and looking kosher.”

She takes a seat in the chair, closing her eyes for a moment. “Okay,” she whispers, more so to herself. “So… what is this then? Disguised as a gym?”

Harry chuckles softly, planting his bum on the edge of his desk. “Basically. We’re registered as a business, a gym. We keep the fights quiet though. You only know about them if you’re invited or scouted.”

“Scouted?”

Harry nods. “Yeah, there’s a whole network of underground fighting. The Box is one of the most elite. You don’t get to fight unless you’re scouted by us, and you don’t get to watch unless you’re invited and you pay.”

It’s a lot to take in, Harry knows that. But if Y/N is going to take over half the company, she needs to know the ins and outs of everything – no matter how dark or dodgy it may be.

“We charge memberships through card, so we have something to declare and pay taxes on. As for the fights–”

“Let me guess, paid in cash; same with the bets. That’s the real money maker, you don’t have to declare cash.”

Harry nods slowly, impressed by her ability to connect the dots. Unlike most people, Harry has no issue trusting her with every secret within the company. She’s Sam’s blood. And this place was Sam’s everything. He wouldn’t dream of leaving it in untrusted hands.

“I’ll be blunt here, I am not cut out to be running anything illegal.” She admits blatantly, not even thinking of entertaining the idea.

Harry gets it, completely. “That’s fine. If you would rather handle memberships and the legitimate side of the business, I can handle the rest.”

Y/N doesn’t expect him to be so understanding. To be frank, she doesn’t know what she expected from Harry. She figured all her brother's boxer friends would be cold and calculated. Not a gorgeous, kindhearted 6ft teddy bear.

“I know this is a lot to take in all at once, but if you’re happy to, I can show you how we work around here.”

What feels like an hour, is three. And by the time Harry has explained the basics and the logistics, it’s nearly 9:30 p.m. and Y/N’s stomach is rumbling. The loudness of it has heat rising to her cheeks and Harry chuckles.

She’s grown a little more relaxed around him in the two and a half hours they’ve spent in Sam’s office. Her Converse have been kicked off and her cardigan is long gone. She’s still sitting in the chair and Harry leans his bum against the desk, just a few inches from her.

“D’you wanna order food or call it a night?” He asks.

Y/N looks up at him. She’s ashamed to admit she’s enjoying this time with Harry. It’s been a long time since she’s felt so consumed in something that she hasn’t thought about how sad her life is right now.

“Oh, sorry I’ve been here a while. You’ve probably been wanting to go home for ages,” she laughs nervously, feeling slightly embarrassed.

Harry is quick to shake his head. “No, not at all. Besides, I’ve got to stay here for the fights tonight anyway.”

“Oh, right. Yeah. Do you mind if I stay?” She asks.

Y/N supposes that she may as well cram as much into one night as she can. Even if that does include watching illegal fights in this new business she co-owns.

Harry nods, taking a sip of his bottled water. “If you feel okay, stay. I know this is a lot to take in. Don’t think you have to do everything all at once.”

She appreciates his consideration, and maybe she’s not as mentally prepared for tonight and she’s letting herself think, but that doesn’t change her mind.

Y/N can’t fight this inheritance. Harry won’t let her and she knows she’ll regret it if she walks away from Sam’s pride and joy. So she might as well suck it up the best she can.

“I can’t escape this now, Harry. If I’m going to be in this, I’ve got to be all in, right?”

Harry isn’t sure where her change of attitude has come from, but he hopes tonight doesn’t have her coiling back into that previous mindset of wanting nothing to do with the business.

So he nods at her and offers an apologetic yet appreciative smile. And looking at her, he takes a moment to admire the beauty of her. She’s nothing like Sam, not look-wise anyway.

She’s much more attractive than he was.

“So… do you want pizza or something else?” Y/N asks, tapping away on her phone to begin an order for food.

Harry purses his lips. “Oh, I can’t eat until after the fight. But order whatever you want on the company card. I’ll go up and grab it for you when it’s delivered.”

She finds it strange, but maybe Harry gets nervous for fight night. She’s not sure why else he wouldn’t eat until after watching illegal fights.

Y/N orders herself a small pizza and by the time she’s eaten, and Harry has finished explaining the systems, they’re leaving the office to find the trainers in the locker rooms.

The buzzing atmosphere has an unfamiliar wave of excitement washing over Y/N. The unknown anticipation is like electricity, sending a little shockwave through her body.

She hasn’t experienced anything like this before, and knowing nothing about how tonight may unfold, it has her on the tip of her toes. Nervous and ready for anything at the same time.

She thinks she gets what Sam used to say about the thrill he got from fighting. This feeling she’s getting just being stood in the gym before someone’s fight probably doesn’t even begin to compare to the feeling of actually fighting.

“Everyone listen up!”

Harry’s voice beckons over every single trainer. All eyes are on him and Y/N. She feels a little nervous like she’s intruding on their work.

“I’m sure many of you know, but for those who don’t… this is Sam’s sister, Y/N. She is the new partner in the company and will be just as involved in this business as Sam was. If she has any questions, you answer them. Tonight, you’re all to keep an eye out for her. We’ve got a rough bunch coming in and it’s Y/N’s first fight. Now glove up and get angry. We’re undefeated for a reason.”

As quickly as they paid attention, they were filtering out of the lockers. Y/N won’t admit it but she’s slightly in awe of the respect and power Harry has.

She would’ve never guessed he could have that effect on people. But as her life has proven, Y/N doesn’t seem to be right about anything. Ever.

As they exit the lockers, the gym is a lot fuller. At least two to three hundred people are occupying the space. Y/N’s never seen anything quite like it. It’s loud and masculine, and the eager guests put their bets in at the side of the rings.

“Niall!” Harry calls out, a blond amongst the trainers turning to the owners as he wanders over.

“Y/N, this is Niall. One of our best fighters and Sam’s protégé.”

She shakes his hand with a relaxed smile. “I remember you from his wake. Thank you for coming that day.”

Niall smiles pitifully, releasing her hand. “Your brother was a good fella. Welcome to the team, Y/N. We’re glad to have you in the family.”

She doesn’t question the family remark. She doesn’t have to. Sam had always expressed to Y/N how the boys at the gym were like his brothers. It warms her heart to speak with Niall.

“Ni, I want you to keep an eye on her for me. Just until I’m done.” Niall nods and Y/N frowns, turning to Harry.

“Where are you going?” She asks.

He grins at her, cheeky and cocky. “I'm the first fight. You gonna give me luck like you give my gran, Penny?”

Y/N can’t hide the way her eyes widen or how heat rises to her cheeks. She doesn’t know what she’s more caught off by. Harry fighting or the unexpected use of her nickname.

Wherever it is, it has fire licking at every inch of her body. And the smirk he throws her before approaching the ring only adds fuel to her ever-growing fire.

She’s got fucking whiplash. One minute she’s moping over her brother and the next she’s pressing her thighs together desperately and accepting the fact that she is now, to put it bluntly, a crime boss.

She turns to Niall with a sheepish smile and attempts to relax her shoulders. Niall seems to see right through her shaky facade and he lets out a cackle of a laugh before throwing an arm around her shoulder.

“Don’t worry, Harry is the dog's bollocks. And it’s okay to fancy him. Most girls do.”

The ruckus only gets louder, a fairly even mix of chants and boos as Harry approaches the ring and climbs in. Y/N isn’t sure why her heart begins to race. She isn’t sure why she’s instinctively toying with the pendant on her necklace. She has no idea why she’s so hooked and nervous.

Like she’s worried for him.

The introductions are a blur, both Harry and his opponent walking the ring for all to see. The referee doesn’t stand in there with them. He stands to the side, an older man with a beer belly and balding scalp, his voice rumbling through the microphone that echoes.

“This guy’s a fucking nutter.” she hears Niall say beside her, face close to her ear to raise his voice above the noise.

Y/N’s heart stammers a little faster. “He got banned for a little while. The last time he was here, he bit someone’s pinky finger off. Two years later, and we still haven’t got the blood out of the mat. Osmond has very little perception of pain. The only way to win against him is knocking him clean out, or he can fight all night.”

She tries her hardest not to let her eyes widen at his words and keeps her gaze focused on Harry and Osmond. He’s significantly larger than Harry – stockier and taller. Y/N thought they’d at least follow weight class guidelines, but now she’s beginning to worry that Harry may barely come out of there with a pulse.

When the bell sounds and the fight starts, Y/N can’t tear her eyes away. They’re both circling the ring, cautious like lions stalking their prey. Osmond is the first to move, feigning an attack by stomping his foot forward and then easing back.

The motion goes unphased by Harry, not even a flicker of a flinch. Niall giggles to himself, like he’s not at all worried about his friend. Unfortunately, Y/N doesn’t share the same confidence in Harry that Niall does. How can she? She’d never seen him fight before.

They grow closer and Harry is bouncing on his toes. Even barely knowing him. Y/N can feel the energy he’s permitting. The confidence, the excitement. She swallows a gasp when Osomond lunges for Harry but he’s quick to dodge it, forcing a fist into the side of Osmond’s face as he bounces back.

Osmond stumbles for a second, taken aback by the force of Harry’s punch – like Y/N’s not the only one to underestimate the boxer. But as soon as he finds his footing, the fight breaks loose.

Harry is quick to dodge ninety percent of Osmond’s punches, delivering a blow of his own with every other recoil. His slimmer build and smaller weight works to his advantage. Y/N watches the way Harry moves around his opponent, notices how much quicker his reflexes are than Osmond’s.

The crowd has grown significantly louder than before and yet it all becomes a bit of a blur to Y/N. She’s enamoured by him, by his every movement. The way muscles ripple with every pinch, how his skin glistens with sweat, and blood begins to drip from the bridge of his nose.

As quickly as she begins to grow aroused, she stops. Remembering that this was her brother’s life for years. Fighting like this, with little to no rules and people betting on him to win or lose.

So caught up in her head, she misses the final punch that Harry connects with Osmond’s jaw. Misses the way the larger man plummets to the ground with a thud. She doesn’t notice the straining eyes of strangers as they stare at her from across the basement, watching her every move like hawks.

She doesn’t notice, but Harry does. Because he’s looking right at her, stuck in her head. He doesn’t like it one bit; how naive she is. In another Universe, maybe he’d admire it. But not in this world – the new world she’s been thrown into. She can’t afford to be unaware of the dangers this place can carry, of the things people are capable of. It’s muffled to Y/N when the crowd begins to count down from ten, reality only really fixing her senses when that bell rings again.

And the fight is over.

She hasn’t been able to stop looking at him.

Harry’s been cleaned up, dressed in a t-shirt again, and counting the money he’s won from the fight. He flicks the notes from one hand to another with ease, counting far too quickly but Y/N supposes he’s used to it.

“What did you think of the fight?” he asks.

Y/N quirks a brow, wonders if there’s a hint of cockiness in his tone, but there isn’t. He’s not boasting about how good of a fight it was, he’s just asking what she thought.

“Was good. Didn’t know you could fight like that.”

Harry hums, stuffing the cash into an envelope and offering her a tight-lipped smile. “Most people don’t. I’m used to being underestimated.”

Y/N doesn’t say anything as she sits on the edge of the ring. The Box had cleared out around forty-five minutes ago, just the two of them left now and the clock is ticking ten to three.

“Think I missed the part where you knocked him out, though.”

Harry hums. “Yeah, I noticed you were a bit in your head when that happened. You need to stop doing that here moving forward.”

Y/N frowns, unsure what she should address first. The fact he was watching her during the fight, or that she needs to stop getting in her head.

“What do you mean?” she settles for.

Harry stands from the small foldable table beside the ring. “No matter how well you may ever think you know this place and these people, you don’t. It’s a bottomless pit of uncertainty and you need to have your wits about you at all times. People were watching you tonight, trying to suss you out. If anyone smells even a hint of fear or weakness on you in this place, you’re done for – whether you’re a fighter or not.”

His words hit Y/N a little harder than both anticipated but she supposes it’s what she needed to hear. Because he is right. She gets in her head far too often since Sam’s passing, and Y/N knows it’ll only end up getting her hurt or in trouble. Especially in a place like this.

So she nods her head, understanding and agreeing. And it’s not like Harry expected her to put up a fight, but he’s at least glad he didn’t make her cry with it.

“Come on, it’s late. I’ll drive you home.” He offers, but Y/N is quick to stand and shake her head, hauling her purse over her shoulder.

“It’s okay, my car’s outside.”

He looks at her for a moment, like he’s debating letting her drive alone at this time. But it’s not his business, and he’s not prepared to overstep again. He might’ve promised Sam he’d look out for her, but he’s not about to be overbearing.

“Okay. Text me when you’re home.”

She leaves shortly after, allowing Harry a few moments of peace as he finishes the last of his paperwork. A weight sits heavy on his shoulders about tonight. About how dangerous getting tied up in this place could be for Y/N.

The first day and people are already staring, gawking, surveilling. There’s that unnerving feeling in Harry’s tummy that just won’t go away. The kind of feeling he got before Sam died.

The memory stings him a little with both grief and guilt. Will there ever be a right time for him to tell Y/N how her brother really died? That it wasn’t just an unfortunate car accident. That Harry’s been watching his back and secretly hers ever since. That the associates of the people who did it were in The Box tonight?

His phone chimes from beside him, screen alight with one single text from Y/N.

I’m home x

Bursting through the doors of Oakdale Care, Y/N’s more than a little pissed off. Not because she’s been called into work on her only day off this week. But because the staff have waited two hours to make her aware of Mary’s fall this evening. And to top it off, they didn’t think to contact her family to notify them either.

Y/N chews into Melanie the second she comes through the door, exclaiming how unprofessional it is that they didn’t contact anyone when this happened.

Melanie remains quiet, doesn’t know what to say back to that and she knows Y/N’s right in what she’s saying. But in Melanie’s defence, she’s not running the shift.

“I can call Mary’s grandson now. I’m not running today, Lara is… I thought she would’ve called him?”

Y/N takes a breath as she stops outside of Mary’s bedsit. She knows she shouldn’t have kicked up a big fuss without knowing everything, but the fact still stands that she and Harry weren’t notified when the accident occurred two hours ago.

Shaking her head, Y/N peers into Mary’s room. She lays on her back in her bed, eyes closed but there’s a pinch between her brows, suggesting discomfort and pain from her fall.

“Don’t worry, I called Harry as soon as you called me. He’s on his way now. Has Lara given Mary any pain meds? What’s going on with paramedics?”

Melanie doesn’t say anything about Y/N calling Harry from home. Honestly, she doesn’t think anything of it. It’s not uncommon for seniors to have patients' family members' contacts on their phones. It comes in handy for situations like this.

“Oh, okay. Um, yes… Lara gave her pain relief and paramedics said they’ll be here as soon as possible – they’re understaffed and have a lot of more emergent calls.”

Y/N nods, reaching back to tie her hair up the best she can without a mirror. “Okay, did they say if they’d be taking her in?”

Melanie shakes her head. “They said they’ll assess her on scene and go from there. If they don’t think her hip is broken, they’ll get her referred for an X-ray tomorrow afternoon. If they can tell that it is, then they’ll take her in.”

Y/N nods. She’s been here long enough to know how it works, it isn’t the first time an elderly patient has had a fall. “Alright, thank you. Can you let Lara know I’m staying for the remainder of the shift, most likely tonight as well?”

“Yeah, sure. I’ll see if Lara wants you to take over the shift or whatever.”

When Melanie leaves, Y/N quietly enters Mary’s room. She sits on the chair across from the bed and exhales softly.

“For Christ's sake, Mary… you’re always up to no good.” She whispers to herself, allowing just a moment to get her mind in order so she’s calm enough to explain to Harry fully what’s going on.

The idea of seeing him under these circumstances irks her a bit. She’s only been to the club once since she was first there two weeks ago, still finding it a little overwhelming to process. And Harry had assured her that it was fine and to take her time, and if once a week is all she can handle right now, then that’s fine, too.

Y/N feels a little bad. Allowing Harry to run the club alone while she owns the majority of it. It feels a little too cheeky in the worst way and the guilt has been nipping at her for a few days now.

It doesn’t help that tonight she was supposed to be there, to run through the books and set up some form of timesheet for what days she’d come in. Now it looks like neither of them will be there this evening.

A gentle knock on Mary’s door disturbs Y/N’s inner turmoil, and she’s met with the devil himself standing in the doorway. There’s worry in his eyes, brows knitted and lips in a fine line.

“Hey,” Y/N breathes a greeting as she stands from her chair.

Harry enters the room cautiously, scared he may wake her but also scared of what Y/N may say to him. His eyes flicker between the two women for a moment and Y/N offers a gentle smile.

“We’re waiting for paramedics to come and assess her. She’s been given medication for the pain. I’m so sorry you weren't contacted sooner. I called as soon as I found out.”

Harry waves off her apology, knowing it isn’t Y/N’s fault. He takes the seat beside hers as they sit together. Harry’s fingers are intertwined across his chest as he sits back and regards his grandmother.

Guilt is quick to settle into his stomach. He wishes he visited her more often. When scary things like this occur, he finds himself deep in his head about what he couldn’t and should’ve done better or more. He’s not silly, he knows his gran is getting old, but growing up, Harry always viewed her as immortal — isn’t that how everyone sees their grandparents? As ever-lasting beings who will always just be there?

“Do you want me to give you some space?”

Y/N notices his dazed eyes slowly blink her way. He’s not completely with it, may that be through fear, stress or something entirely else.

Harry shakes his head. “No, you’re fine. Feels a bit reassuring having you in here, if I’m honest.” There’s a hesitant (dare she say, shy) smile on his lips as he speaks.

Y/N would like to say his words mean something deeper but in reality, she gets it. Family tend to prefer having a member of staff present after something like this — just in case something happens, there’s already someone there.

She bites down her confused disappointment and a few moments of silence settle around them.

Y/N picks at her nails while Harry chews at the inside of his cheek; his eyes focused on the clock on the wall beside him. It’s nearing eight in the evening and the home is relatively quiet. There will be a staff swap shortly for the night shift but even then, there won’t be much more noise.

“Why’s the car park always so busy recently?” Harry asks mindlessly, but the question bewilders Y/N for a second.

“What do you mean?” She blinks.

Harry shrugs his shoulders, shifting in his chair. “The amount of cars parked out the front compared to the amount of staff in right now doesn’t match up.”

It’s Y/N’s turn to shrug her shoulders. “It’s a busy area. A lot of people tend to use the car park if they live nearby and can’t find a space. Plus it’s free.”

A quiet hum sounds from Harry’s throat and Y/N finds herself wondering if he’s satisfied with her answer or not. Then she finds herself confused again as to why she cares.

“I told Melanie I’d stay for a few hours, or at least until we know what’s going on with the paramedics. So, I most probably won’t be at the gym later tonight. Sorry.”

Harry shakes his head. “No, don’t be silly. It’s fine. I’ll stay, too. Niall can oversee the gym, it’s just a few lads putting in extra training tonight, there’s no fights anyway.”

Y/N’s about to reply when a gentle knocking on Mary’s door stops her. Melanie pops her head through, an apologetic smile on her face as she greets Harry with a polite wave.

“Y/N, is there any chance you can do bedtime meds round? Lana’s speaking with the Head of Care about the fall.”

She looks to Harry, who nods with a small smile before she leaves the room with Melanie. He’s left with silence and his grandmother's soft snores as she sleeps. His heart races a little with worry of what could’ve happened. If she’d hit her head or if a member of staff wasn’t in the room when it happened.

It takes a lot of force to shake those thoughts from his head. The what-ifs. He tries to find something else to focus his attention on, but Mary doesn’t have much in her room.

She’s always been a very simplistic person, never been one for clutter and unnecessary decorations. She has a clock on one wall and the cross of Christ on another beside a photo of her late mother.

Digging through the pockets of his slacks, Harry retrieves his phone and shoots Niall a quick text.

Harry: Can’t make it in tonight, family emergency. You okay to oversee the training?

A few moments pass before the little bubble appears at the bottom of his screen, which is quickly replaced with Niall’s reply.

Niall: No prob, hope alls ok. Is Y/N in?

Harry: No.

Shutting his phone off, he stuffs it back into his pocket. He sits in silence for a few moments, foot tapping against the carpeted floor until he hears a little movement from out in the hall.

Harry cranes his neck from where he sits in his chair, peering through the crack. Y/N pushes the medication trolley through the hallway, stopping outside of Mary’s door as she enters the room opposite.

“Evening, Malcolm. I’ve got your medication, mate. Do you want juice or water with it?”

He smiles at the softness of her voice, of how calm and collected she seems. He listens in as Malcolm attempts to refuse them, fights back a laugh as Y/N persuades him to take it because if you don’t, you know your hair will start to fall out again and you told me Alice doesn’t like bald men.

He takes the medication and she leaves shortly after, moving onto the next room that Harry can’t hear from.

It’s roughly twenty minutes later when she’s returning to Mary’s room and offering Harry an apologetic smile. She’s got two mugs of tea in her hands as she passes one to Harry and sits in the chair beside him.

“I find it really admirable, what you do.” He tells her softly.

Y/N frowns a little, slightly embarrassed by the compliment but she shrugs it off. “I treat them how I’d want someone to treat my grandparents. Really, they’re all like extra Nan’s and Grandad’s to me.”

He smiles at her, believing what she says. Mary has always boasted about how amazing her Penny is. Harry knows she loves her job and the people she cares for. It makes his heart feel full.

“Have you always wanted to work in care?”

Y/N pulls a face as she thinks, a look that suggests no, not really.

“I actually wanted to be an air hostess,” she laughs to herself, like her dream job is completely irrational and totally out of reach.

Harry must admit that it does make his eyebrows raise. He doesn’t think he’s ever met someone who shares an interest in something like that.

“But my grandma passed away in a care home a few years ago. She was unwell, we thought she might’ve had a heart attack or a stroke or something in her sleep. The coroner concluded it was a heartache but it stemmed from a build-up of neglect. The nurses weren’t giving her the medication she needed and things like that. Sam ended up beating the shit out of the manager and he sued them. At my grandma’s funeral, I vowed to her I wouldn’t let that happen to anyone else’s grandparent again.”

Harry blinks at her, lips parted. He’s stunned, to say the least, and his heart feels heavy from her words. He can’t begin to imagine the anger and heartache she must’ve felt. Harry supposes that’s why she got so uptight about Mary’s fall.

“Jesus. Penny, I’m so sorry.”

His apology is genuine, she knows that. But she waves her hand to dismiss the condolence. It’s not something she likes to talk about. And she’s not entirely sure why she feels so comfortable sharing that with Harry.

“What about you?” She takes a sip of her tea. “Have you always wanted to be a boxer?”

Harry puffs out the air in his cheeks and shifts in his chair. “For the longest time, I didn’t know what I wanted to do with my life. I was a bit of a problem child as a kid, so my mum got me into boxing to help me learn respect and discipline. Didn’t think I’d love it as much as I did.”

Y/N listens intently to his words, watches the way his lips move with every syllable. She comes to the realisation that she could sit and listen to him speak for hours.

“After school, I started Uni… studying law.”

The irony in his voice has them both laughing quietly and Y/N has to purse her lips shut to not wake Mary. She can’t imagine Harry wearing a suit and tie all day every day. Though she does remember how handsome he looked at Sam’s funeral.

“I was on a night out with some friends one night down the pub, and this bloke was just on one. We got into a fight outside and right after, Sam came up to me. Told me he was impressed and invited me to come and train at the gym.”

It’s funny, really. How in both of their stories, Sam plays such a crucial part. Sometimes Harry does wonder if he would’ve followed through with law school if Sam hadn’t scouted him. Though as much as he tries to imagine it, he can’t see his life for anything other than what it already is.

“Around the time Gran got unwell, Sam had offered me fights at the club. I knew she’d need private care and fighting would be the only way to afford it. My mum was out of work with knee surgery around the same time, so it was all falling on me. I did what I had to do. I dropped out of Uni and never looked back.”

It’s bittersweet, how his path was paved for him. Harry had to step up and support his family, and whatever plans he had before that had to be pushed aside and forgotten. Y/N finds it quite noble if she’s honest. But there’s sadness and pity in her gut.

“Where’s your mum now?” She asks.

Harry takes a sip of his drink.

“She works for a big publishing firm in the city. She travels a lot, I think she’s in New York at the moment.”

“Oh, wow.” Y/N’s eyes widen slightly.

Harry nods his head. “Yeah, she’s a big shot.” He laughs. “My mum sacrificed a lot for me and Gran, I’m trying my best to give it back. She doesn’t know that I pay for all of Gran’s care. She thinks it’s covered by her disability.”

Her heart hurts but it swells at the same time. Behind that rough and mean exterior, Harry seems to be one of the most gentle and genuine people Y/N has ever met. She just wants to give him a hug.

“I don’t mean to be nosy, so tell me if I’m overstepping. But as Mary’s keyworker, I handle all invoices and health care… and I know you make a lot of money from the fights. Why do you keep her here when you could afford something more lavish?”

She hopes it doesn’t come off the wrong way — she already thinks it’s incredible what he’s doing for his family. But she can’t help but wonder.

“Honestly?” He asks, and Y/N nods. “Because of you. She loves living here and she loves you. Whenever I visit, it’s always Penny this, and Penny that. You’ve got no idea how at peace I feel with her living her, because of how incredible you are with her.”

Y/N’s not sure when the tears began to well in her eyes but when they begin to fall down her cheek, Harry is quick to wipe them away softly with the pad of his thumb.

They’re both aware of how intimate his little act was, so he’s quick to sit back in his chair and clear his throat.

“As for the money, I save most of it for my future children and stuff. I don’t want to do this forever, but now Sam’s gone… I don’t think I’ll ever be able to walk away from it. It’s all I’ve got left of him.”

Everything he says is loaded to Y/N. Future children, her late brother. She’s not sure if she pegged Harry for the type to want children, but she constantly has to remind herself that she doesn’t know him, and every time they speak she learns something new.

The mention of Sam makes her heart hurt. And in the past two weeks, she’s begun to adopt the same mindset that Harry already has. Now she’s part of it, she doesn’t think she could let the club go. Much like Harry, it’s one of the only things she has left of Sam, too.

They sit like that for another hour or so, just talking and learning more about each other. Harry shares stories about Mary, and Y/N listens intently to the mirage of the older woman’s life.

Y/N is about to ask another question when their little story time is interrupted by two male paramedics knocking on the door of Mary’s room.

Y/N’s the first to stand, offering a polite smile as she shakes both of their hands. “Hi, I’m Y/N, Mary’s keyworker. This is Harry,” she gestures to him, “Mary’s grandson.”

The two paramedics introduce themselves as Darren and Olli as they lug their equipment into the room with them. Harry sits back to allow them their space as they wake Mary from her light slumber.

He watches as Y/N softly explains what’s happening and that she needs to be checked over by the nice paramedics. They’re all thankful that Mary doesn’t kick up a fuss about it, and allows Darren and Olli to gently examine her hips.

“Been a while since a strapping young bloke has had his hands all over my hips… let alone two of ya.”

Harry closes his eyes in embarrassment as Y/N stifles her laugh. No matter how long she’s been caring for Mary, she never fails to give Y/N the giggles. And it doesn’t help when she mumbles something along the lines of ‘I should fall over more often’, under her breath.

Olli gently pushes pressure on her left hip. “Is that giving you any discomfort, Mary?”

She shakes her head. “Oh, absolutely not, petal. You can keep doing that.”

“Gran!”

It’s Olli’s turn to stifle his amusement as he removes his hands from her hips and takes off his gloves. He turns to Harry and Y/N while Darren helps Mary to lay back and pulls her top back over her stomach.

“From what I can feel, it’s not broken. She may be a bit achy for a couple of days, so keep on top of painkillers but she’ll be fine.”

An audible gasp can be heard in the room from both Y/N and Harry as Mary gets comfortable in her bed again. Too pent up with both worry and relief, neither of them notice the way Mary looks at them, how her eyes are knowing and clueless at the same time.

It’s another twenty minutes or so before the paramedics leave to speak with the manager. Harry is quick to sit beside Mary, holding her hand and chastising her about how much she scared everyone.

Mary is even quicker to roll her eyes and smack the back of Harry’s hand lightly. “Oh, behave, Harry. I’m fine. The yummy paramedics even said so.”

Y/N can’t help but laugh at the way Harry’s face screws up at her words, quickly tugging his hand from her hold to cover his face with a groan.

“Harry’s right. You gave us all a scare.”

Mary looks at her with gentle eyes and huffs. “I’m okay, honestly. And I heard what you said earlier. As much as I love you both, I don’t need a babysitter. Both of you can shoo off and let me sleep. Come back tomorrow.”

Harry’s about to put up a fight about it, but Mary shakes her head. “No, I mean it. Go on, both of you. Piss off.”

Neither of them are shocked by her pottymouth. If anything, they’re thankful that’s all she had to say. They both know how venomous Mary’s words can be when she’s pissed off.

They say goodbye to her shortly after, traipsing back through the hall until they reach reception. Y/N leans over the desk and scribbles a note on a post-it, sticking it to the laptop to notify the staff that she’s left.

The brisk air of the late-night envelopes them harshly as they leave through the front door, barely given enough time to brace themselves for the frosty impact.

Y/N’s eyes scan the car park for her car, absentmindedly searching for Harry’s, too. “I’m over there,” she points to her car. “Did you drive here?”

The question makes Harry’s eyes widen and shoulders slump. “My car was playing up so I took it to the garage down the street. It’s still in there.”

Neither of them need to glance at their watches to know the garage won’t be open at nearly midnight. Y/N frowns but shrugs her shoulders.

“S’okay. Where do you live? I can drop you off.”

The offer warms his heart but not enough to give him hope. “Don’t worry about it, I’m like forty minutes away… I wouldn’t expect you to drive there and back before you even get home.”

The thought sounds a bit grim to her but she’s not about to leave him on the street to have to walk or pay an extortionate amount (which she’s sure he can afford) on an Uber.

“Well, you can just crash at mine then. I have work tomorrow afternoon, so I can bring you back and you can grab your car then?”

It stuns them both for a moment, her words. Y/N’s shocked she actually offered what was on her mind and Harry’s a little bewildered at how willing she is to have him, somewhat of a stranger, in her home.

He tilts his head slightly with gently pinched brows. “Are you sure?” Ever the gentleman.

She nods, like she’s trying to convince herself as well. “Honestly, I don’t mind. And it’s not like you’re a complete stranger.”

He laughs at that, he laughs hard. Maybe it’s the tiredness or maybe it’s the relief that Gran’s okay. Either way, he knows what she said wasn’t that funny.

She leads the way to her car and the drive back to her flat is quiet. Harry sings along softly to the radio, taking note of his surroundings.

There’s a cherry-scented freshener that hangs from the rearview mirror, a pair of running trainers sitting on one of the backseats and a small knitted blanket folded nearly just by his feet in the passenger footwell.

Harry thinks she’s the type of girl to have an emergency supply kit in her boot as well.

She does.

When they arrive at her apartment building, Harry follows her through the halls. She’s a little nervous, the closer they’re getting to her home. She panics as she struggles to remember if she left it a mess or still has clean clothes and underwear lying about anywhere.

As soon as she opens the door, she lets herself relax. No wild underwear to be seen, thank god.

Harry closes the door behind him and looks around. It’s nice, cosy. The walls are decorated with funky artwork and all of her furniture is slightly mismatched but it pulls together well.

He’s not sure what he expected, maybe something a bit more simplistic and minimalist. This is anything but — it feels a little intimate, like he’s seeing a deeper side to her. He can tell her flat reflects her personality.

“Cool artwork.”

She smiles sheepishly, hoping Harry can’t tell how nervous she is to have him in her home. He can. But he doesn’t say anything on the matter.

“Are you okay on the sofa?”

“Yeah, honestly I’m just thankful you’re letting me stay.”

Y/N smiles kindly at him. “Of course. There are blankets in the basket by the TV. Help yourself to anything you want in the kitchen. And the bathroom is just to the left of the dining table.”

It’s a little awkward for a moment. They’re not friendly enough for this to be normal, and Harry starts to feel that nervous tension too.

She says goodnight first, sauntering off to her bedroom and closing the door behind her. It takes a moment for Y/N to calm down a little. It’s been a while since an attractive man has been in her home, and she has to remind herself that previous men have been complete strangers for a hookup once in a blue moon.

Harry’s is not a hookup (unfortunately), and he is not a stranger. She repeats it in her head as she gets into her pyjamas and crawls into bed.

At least Y/N understands why she feels so anxious. Because Harry can’t put his finger on why he does. Too in his head about being in her home and it feeling so fucking intimate.

She doesn’t sleep all night.

Neither does Harry.

It’s been a week since Harry crashed on Y/N’s sofa and she hasn’t been able to look at it the same ever since. It’s been a bit of a struggle to try and wrap her head around these feelings she’s begun to harbour for Harry – she can’t get him out of her head.

They’ve spoken a couple of times here and there. Mostly him checking in about Gran or a tiny bit of flirtatious banter when she’s visited The Box a couple of evenings. Nothing at all to warrant how she feels at the moment.

Perhaps that’s why she’s so confused and conflicted.

And it doesn’t help that the second her mother called, the first thing she asked was if Y/N was dating or not yet.

“No mum.”

She hears the audible sigh from down the line and pinches her eyes shut to gain some form of self-control. Not today, Y/N – don’t snap at her today.

“Well, there’s a small amount of time left for you, I suppose. Anyway, have you seen your brother today?”

“Yes, I’m with him now Mum. I see you’ve already been down… the flowers look beautiful.”

She doesn’t reply to her daughter, not about Sam’s grave anyway. Instead, she changes the subject to something a little lighter. Y/N supposes it’s still hard for her, to talk about her deceased son. The one child she actually adored.

“Your father wanted me to ask if you’d like to come away with us this weekend?”

Y/N’s brows pinch at the proposition. A holiday with just her parents sounds like a living Hell if she’s entirely honest. And she’s more than a little shocked to even have received an invite. She reckons her Dad probably had something to do with that.

“Where are you going?” She asks.

Layla sighs, and Y/N imagines her scrutinising the new manicure she gets every Thursday. “Bora Bora,” she says with little to no enthusiasm.

Y/N stares at Sam’s headstone with a tired gaze in her eyes. “Only for three weeks, we need the break, to be honest. Are you coming or not?”

Only three weeks? Y/N finds herself biting down hard on her tongue. She’ll never understand how people with money can be so out of touch with the world sometimes. She scoffs, shaking her head to herself.

“Thank you for the offer, but no. I don’t have that kind of money and I can’t get three weeks off of work on such short notice.”

Layla hums. “Yes, I understand. Well, I have to start packing. Oh and please don’t get any dirt on Sammy’s headstone, I just got it power-washed.”

The line goes dead and Y/N stares at her brother's grave in astonishment. “Love you, too,” she mutters sarcastically as she pulls the phone away from her ear.

“Even in the dead, you’re still the goddamn favourite.”

She crouches down to get a better look at his plot. There are at least six bunches of fresh flowers in small plant potters that dig into the dirt. All beautiful and vibrant. Y/N places the seventh bunch in an empty plastic pot and uses her water bottle to fill it.

“Happy birthday, Sammy. I miss you.”

The cemetery is quiet, save for the few robins that perch on headstones close to her. From where she stands, Y/N spots an elderly couple walking hand in hand, no doubt visiting their own loved ones together.

Sometimes, she wishes she had someone to visit Sam with. Someone other than her parents.

She stays there for a few moments, doesn’t really know what to say. It irks her a little, knowing his body lies beneath that cold ground. Y/N can feel that familiar sinking feeling of depression consume her. The guilt, the pain.

She’d give everything to have him back, if even just for a day.

“It’s not getting any easier, Sammy.”

It’s like admitting defeat – like she’s not strong enough to cope with his loss. She is, but she certainly doesn’t feel the strength she needs to get her through.

From the peripheral of her vision, Y/N spots a figure approaching. She turns her head, the silhouette now much clearer and she’s sure she recognises the slender blonde woman that edges closer with every tentative step.

The woman from the reception.

She looks just as shocked as Y/N – clearly not expecting to bump into her but she must’ve known his family would visit on his birthday.

“Sorry,” the stranger starts. “I’ll come back later.”

Y/N shakes her head and calls out to her before she can fully turn to walk away. “Wait! I remember you, from the gym.” She chooses her words carefully, unsure how much she may know about the club itself.

The blonde nods her head and takes a few steps closer, eyes fixed on Sam’s grave as tears well in her eyes. “My name’s Amira… Sam and I were seeing each other when…”

She doesn’t finish her sentence, but Y/N gets it. Her lips part and her eyes fall downcast. Sammy never mentioned he was seeing anyone – but Y/N supposes there was a lot he didn’t mention in his lifetime.

“I’m sorry,” she says, “I had no idea he was seeing anyone. He tended to keep that kind of stuff to himself.”

Amira smiles but it doesn’t reach her eyes. She continues to clutch a fresh bouquet of flowers close to her chest and doesn’t say much more. Y/N begins to feel like maybe she’s the one intruding and quickly clears her throat, fixing the strap of her purse on her shoulder.

“Listen, my parents are going away for a few weeks. So if you’d like to stop by the house at all to go through some of Sam’s stuff, let me know. My number should be on the system at the gym anyway.”

There’s a look in Amira’s eyes as she takes in Y/N’s kind consideration. Maybe it’s relief, maybe it’s something else. But Y/N figures the least she could do is allow her a deeper look into Sam’s life and let her take whatever she may need to feel closer to him.

“Thank you, Y/N. That means so much to me. I’ll let you have time with him, I can come back later.”

She smiles at Amira, a genuine one this time and shakes her head. “No, don’t be silly. I’m heading out now anyway.” She brushes past Amira, hand reaching out to gently squeeze her arm. “Please don’t be a stranger. Sam might be gone, but our memories of him aren’t.”

The music is a bit deafening and Y/N’s ears are struggling to adjust to it. The Box isn’t all that busy this afternoon. A few on the weights and a couple sparring to the side of boxing bags.

What does catch her attention is Harry in the ring again. He’s not topless this time, instead wearing a simple red t-shirt and a pair of black gym shorts. His stance is firm as he holds his hands up (under those thick boxing pads) and allows Ricky to throw punches in timely combos.

Niall is the first to notice Y/N’s presence, and he’s soon by her side with a lopsided smile and ruffled hair. They share a bit of light chit-chat, nothing too deep or personal. Niall doesn’t want to tread in shallow water, not today.

And she’s far too focused on the way Harry’s biceps flex to focus on anything more than absentminded conversation. She’s not sure what’s gotten into her but she can’t get this man out of her head.

It’s been a long time since she’s had a crush, almost too long to remember what it even feels like. But the more she looks at him – admires him – she’s back to feeling those wanton butterflies and clammy hands.

Clearing her throat, she finally tears her gaze from the boxer and looks up at Niall. “I’ve got some invoices and stuff that I need to catch up on. Can you let Harry know I’m in the office when he’s done?”

Niall nods and just as quickly as their conversation starts, it ends.

Sitting in the office, she finds that there isn’t actually all that much to do. From what she can see, Harry has already made a start on this weeks memberships and was halfway through processing them on the system.

That tinge of guilt begins to nip at her gut again. She needs to talk to Harry about it, really. It’s not fair for him to do the majority of the work and only own a quarter of the company. She either needs to up her game or convince him to take another twenty-five percent.

But if Y/N has learnt anything about Harry by now, it’s that he will not take any more of this godforsaken company. So she finds herself making a mental note to put in more than just three evenings a week at this place.

She’s a few minutes into finishing the last of the memberships when Harry knocks on the door and enters. He’s hot and sweaty and his dishevelled hair only makes him look even more attractive than usual.

Lord have fucking mercy, she can’t handle this.

“Hey,” he greets her in a gruff voice.

She has to swallow down the lump in her throat before she can reply (a little too squeaky for her liking, and she’s wondering what the fuck is wrong with her).

“Have you seen Sammy today yet?”

Y/N nods with a sigh. “Yeah, just got back from there actually. Have you?”

Harry hums. “Yeah, I saw him this morning.”

He’s hunched over now, ruffling through his gym bag for his water bottle when he stands straight again and takes a sip of his drink.

“You’re probably spending the evening with your family, but a bunch of us are gonna go down to the pub for a few drinks for Sammy’s birthday. You’re more than welcome to join at some point if you’d like.”

The offer warms her heart to no end. It’s nice to hear how much people loved and respected him. Enough to celebrate his birthday even when he’s no longer here.

She also thinks it’s cute that he thinks she’ll be with her family. As if anything about her and her parents' relationship is healthy.

“I’ll be there,” she says a little too quickly. “My parents are busy packing for their spontaneous trip to Bora Bora. And my mother is insufferable so that’s just a big fat no to family time.”

Harry raises his eyebrows, a small quirk of a smile on his lips. Her words are nothing new to him. Despite being the favourite, Sam always had his moments to moan about their parents, too. Used to say the same thing about their mother being insufferable.

“You’re not going with them?”

“No!” She laughs and the sound makes Harry smile. “I can’t afford a spontaneous three-week vacation and I can’t get the time off work so short notice either.”

She watches Harry open the middle drawer of the silver filing cabinet and pull out an overly stuffed envelope. He hands it to her, brows raised expectantly for her to take it.

It’s heavy, and her name is written in his scribbled handwriting and she finds herself looking at it for a second too long.

“It’s your month's wages.”

She peers inside, eyes wide. Y/N looks back at him. “How much is this?”

“Ten grand.”

Her eyes widen even more. “I’m sorry…” she blinks, “Ten fucking grand? For a month?”

Harry shrugs, finally deciding to take a seat opposite her. “That’s what Sam used to pay himself monthly. You own the same amount that he did.”

Y/N stares at him for a moment. She wonders if this amount of cash is normal to Harry and by the way he doesn’t bat an eyelid, she supposes it is.

“Well I’m not Sam and you’re doing more work than me,” she blubbers. “You should be getting paid more.”

She tries to shove the envelope across the table and into his hands but he won’t have any of it. Harry laughs at her, shaking his head like she’s the ridiculous one.

“I get paid enough, believe me.” He pushes the envelope back over to her and she stares at it.

Y/N has never seen that much money in cash with her name on. She’s never even had that much money at once before. The possibilities are endless as she thinks of what she could do with it.

She could join her parents in Bora Bora and fuck work off completely if she’s getting paid that every month. But she won’t.

She could also redecorate her entire flat and do out her wardrobe twice over with just that single month's wage, but she knows she won’t.

Because Y/N will probably tuck it away under her bed later tonight and be too afraid to spend a single penny of it.

And Harry notices the way she falls into her mind. She hasn’t taken her eyes off the envelope but she’s still yet to touch it again. He figures it’ll take a while for her to become a bit more accustomed to this.

He taps his fingers on the desk, gaining her attention. “Penny, it’s your money. Do whatever you see fit with it. Save it, spend it, give it away. Do what you want.”

Her eyes soften a little, appreciating his encouragement. It still feels wrong, though. To accept that amount of money for doing virtually nothing when people out there who work forty-plus hours every week and still struggle to pay their bills on time.

She hangs onto the suggestion of giving it away. Maybe she’ll donate it to charity. Not all of it — she does need her oil changed and a new tyre — but most of it.

Then a thought occurs to her and her eyebrows raise. It’s like Harry already knows what she’s going to suggest and he’s shaking his head again with a raspy laugh that Y/N feels between her legs.

“No,” he tells her. “You can’t give it away to me.”

If someone had warned her what tonight would look like before she left The Box, Y/N would’ve laughed in their face and called them delusional.

The night had started like she’d expected. Y/N had driven to the pub with Harry, Niall and Ricky after they were showered and changed, and met up with everyone else where they started off with two shots each in honour of Sammy.

It continued like she’d expected. The group of them were spread across two booths and two tables — Y/N being one of the only women amongst the bunch of rowdy men — and drinks went down nicely as everyone took turns to reminisce on their favourite memories of her late brother.

But somewhere down the line of shots, jugs and a drinking game where you had to drink every time Ricky said ‘aye aye captain’ (which she learnt was his catchphrase), Harry had grown increasingly closer to Y/N.

And now, the two of them have somehow moved deeper into the booth. Harry sits right in the corner with Y/N tucked into his side. About twenty minutes ago, his arm had found its way across her shoulder and has been comfortably resting there ever since.

His fingers gently stroke the exposed skin of the middle of her bicep and she’s so close to him that half of her back is pressed against his chest.

They’ve both had a fair amount to drink, but Harry seems significantly more sober than she does. Maybe it’s because she’s the one feeling a little hot about their close proximity.

And it’s not that she minds it, because she absolutely fucking doesn’t. She’s revelling in it, if she’s completely honest. But she’s shocked and confused as to where this touchy side of Harry has come from and why.

And just when she thinks they couldn’t get any closer, Harry’s leaning his head just enough so his lips ghost her ear as he whispers something jokingly about whatever it is that Niall has said.

She can’t fucking focus. Out of nowhere this man has come into her life and flipped it 180. And in just a month of knowing one another, she's down bad and ready to say yes to anything he could ever want.

Y/N has to force a breathy laugh to whatever he’s just whispered. She can’t think straight, unable to hear a thing when all she can think about is the way his lips feel against the shell of her ear.

And Harry’s noticed.

After her third drink, he noticed how she looked at him a little longer than usual. At first, he thought nothing of it, then she did it again and again and her eyes grew shy whenever he looked at her.

It made his stomach flip. She’s attractive, incredibly so. And Harry’s no blind man. Even before Sam had passed, he knew what she looked like and he found her quite fit.

But this odd friendship they have, where he’s gotten to know her and came to the realisation that she’s the one to care for his Gran… it’s blown that initial attraction tenfold.

So maybe he did play up to it a little bit. Maybe he threw his arm around her shoulder to test the waters, to see if she’d pull away or ask him not to.

But she didn’t pull away and she didn’t say a word. So Harry finally let himself consider the fact that she may find him just as attractive as he finds her.

“Y’look really pretty, by the way.”

Oof. Way to fucking play it cool, Harry.

Her head snaps up in his direction and the mumbled tone of his voice. She heard him. Loud and clear. And she’s blinking up at him like he holds the stars in the sky.

“What?” she breathes.

Harry gulps, visibly. “I said you look really pretty today.”

She thought she heard him right. But it doesn’t hurt to hear it for a second time. Y/N’s skin grows warm as she looks at him, and his eyes are lingering on her lips.

Her heart skips a beat or two, breathing lodged in her throat. The way he looks at her has her stone-cold sober, no longer feeling the effects of alcohol. Instead, she feels the heat that radiates from Harry’s and the palpable tension between them.

He can’t seem to tear his eyes away from her mouth — the way her plump lips part and her eyes drop down to his. The thought of kissing her is at the front of his mind, but before he can decide if he’ll act on impulse or not, a glass shatters on the other table and the moment is gone.

Niall’s drunkenly mopping up a spilt beer with paper towels and an empty crisp packet, and Y/N is no longer tucked into his hold. She’s leaning forward to take a look at the damage and Harry’s left feeling a little disappointed.

He shifts in the booth, sitting upright and clearing his throat as he recomposes himself. Niall’s little accident has drawn a fair amount of attention toward the group, and when Harry eyes the other patrons of the pub, his heart sinks to his stomach at one possee in particular.

They’re already looking at him. At her. It takes every ounce of self-control to not approach and beat the shit out of them. Who the fuck do they think they are?

Showing up here, on Sammy’s birthday after what they did to him. Harry’s hands are balled into fists at his sides, chest heaving as he tries to calm himself down. His knee begins to bounce, the anger getting the better of him.

Ryce, George and Scott — the three men who drove Sam off the road and ended his life. They remain staring, vile smirks tugging at the corners of their lips.

Harry’s consistent knee jitters finally catches Y/N’s attention and when she looks at him, she’s alarmed by his sudden change in composure. She can read that look on any man’s face. He’s got itchy knuckles.

“Harry,” she says softly, palm resting on his thigh.

He forces himself to tear his gaze away from the men and look down at her. Her brows are pinched, confusion evident in her voice. Harry plasters a fake, unbelieving smile on his face.

“Nothing,” he says tightly.

His gaze averts to his pint on the table and Y/N takes the opportunity to follow his previous line of sight. The three men are still looking over, all a little jagged on the edges. Their presence doesn’t sit well with Y/N.

Perhaps that’s because of how she’s seen Harry react to them, or maybe it’s just the uncomfortable stares and creepy vibe they exude.

Either way, it has her shuffling back into the booth and closer to Harry again.

It’s a little while later and a few drinks more when Y/N tells Harry she’s going to go home. He’s been on edge the past forty-five minutes and while Y/N was quick to forget the trio of strangers, Harry wasn’t.

He watched them for the final thirty minutes of their stay before he finally began to calm down a little. Harry’s still on edge and Y/N can tell, maybe that’s why she asks if he’ll walk her to her car.

He looks at her, brows pinched. “I’m not letting you behind a wheel, Penny. You’ve been drinking. I’ll drive you home.”

She tilts her head, that nickname awakening butterflies in her stomach. “You’ve been drinking, too,” she points out.

Harry smiles toothily. “But I can handle my drink and I’m sobered up anyway. Come on, I’ll take you home.”

Y/N doesn’t argue with that. She lets him grab her purse and guide her out of the booth, follows him through the group as they both say their goodbyes.

When they get outside and reach Y/N’s car, Harry opens the passenger door for her as she hands him his keys. It takes him a moment to get comfortable in her seat, familiarising himself with her model before he starts the engine and pulls out of the parking space.

The drive to her flat is quiet, a little bit of chit-chat here and there. She feels hot, watching him drive around in her car with ease. There’s something about it — the way his arms flex as he grips the wheel, how his tongue peeks out the corner of his mouth whenever he takes a tight turn.

She hates to admit that he drives better than her.

By the time they arrive back at her apartment building, Y/N’s feeling a lot more sober than when they first left the pub. She’s greeted with a hefty wave of arousal, however, when Harry reverses into her parking space with his arm on the back of her headrest.

It’s a struggle to walk up to her flat with her thighs clenched tightly together, but she makes it work and Harry doesn’t seem to notice. He walks her straight to her door, hands her the keys and watches as she unlocks it.

For some reason, Harry feels a little underwhelmed. He didn’t want the night to end so abruptly. He wanted to stay with her a little longer, maybe even get a little closer.

So when she turns around with a shy smile and presses onto her tiptoes to plant a kiss to his check, he’s a little taken aback.

It’s gentle, how her lips meet his skin, but she doesn’t cower back down after. Her face is still close, her lips just barely ghosting his as she slowly starts to pull away. Y/N’s eyes flicker up to meet Harry’s to find them already staring down at her.

She’s not sure if it’s the final effects of the alcohol or something else that possesses her to press her lips against his, but she lets the intrusive thoughts win. She kisses him and he kisses her back just as softly.

Her heart is racing, mind blank and she can’t think about anything other than the way his soft lips feel on hers and how his hands reach for her hips to hold her in place.

Harry’s the one that pulls away first, just enough for the tips of their noses to brush and he’s staring down at Y/N with blown pupils.

She swallows thickly, suddenly doubting the signs he suggested earlier this evening.

“I’m sorry,” she quickly says.

Harry shakes his head, his hold on her hips tightening. “Don’t be.”

His lips are back on hers, messier and needier than before. Y/N’s hands are quick to reach for his head — fingers tangling into his unruly hair.

Harry swipes his tongue across her bottom lip, parting her mouth until they taste one another. Amid the kiss, he guides her into the flat, kicking the door shut behind them with his foot.

Y/N’s hand leaves his hair and trails down his body in desperate search of something she can tug at. His find the backs of her thighs and with ease, lifts her in his hold. Legs wrapped around his waist, her arms circle his neck as he guides their bodies to the sofa, crawling on top of Y/N.

Harry kisses down her neck, nipping at the taut skin as she arches her back and her chest presses into his.

“Are you sure?” he mumbles against her collarbone.

Y/N nods, not an ounce of doubt in her mind. His fingers find the hem of her t-shirt and he rolls it up her body, tugging it off her arms and over her head.

She’s bare beneath it; with supple breasts and pearled nipples. Harry doesn’t think twice before leaning down and taking one into his mouth, swirling his tongue across the hardened nub.

Y/N’s back arches, chest pushing into his face as her fingertips continue to scratch at his scalp. Harry swirls his tongue around her, teeth biting down and a sharp gasp leaves her lips.

Trailing kisses up her clavicle, Harry meets her lips again, open mouths and hot tongues. He steadies his weight above her, slotted between her parted thighs.

“D’you have a condom?” he mutters into the kiss.

Y/N hums, sitting up as she chases his lips. “In the bedroom.”

He wraps her legs around his waist and lifts them both from the sofa, lips attached once again as he guides them to what he remembers to be her bedroom.

He’s allowed no time to take a look at her room, not that he’s interested anyway. Harry lays her flat in the middle of the bed, crawling on top to situate himself between her thighs again.

It’s dark, traces of moonlight barely seeping through the slits of her bedroom curtains. It offers an angelic hue over her soft body, a sight that Harry never wants to forget.

Her fingers tug at the hem of his t-shirt, swooping underneath to feel the warm, toned skin of his abdomen. Harry leans back on his knees just enough to allow him space to remove his top, flinging it somewhere across the darkened room.

Y/N admires him for a moment, swallowing thickly. His pupils are blown, lips swollen and pink. She watches the way Harry’s chest rises and falls with each breath, takes a second to gawk at the divots of his abs and the dark tattoos that ink his golden skin.

She expects him to crawl back over her body, to kiss her like his life depends on it. But he doesn’t. Instead, his fingers loop into the waistband of her flared leggings and he slowly pulls them down the length of legs.

It leaves her almost bare, wearing just a simple black thong but the sight of it has Harry’s cock twitching in his pants. His gaze roams up her body until he finds her eyes, blown and hooded. He doesn’t break that contact as he stands from the bed and unbuckles his belt. He continues to stare into her soul as he tugs them down his toned thighs and kicks them off to the side.

Y/N’s breath hitches in her throat in anticipation of the big reveal. But he doesn’t offer it. He climbs back onto the bed, heavy palms hot on her inner thighs as he spreads her legs apart for him.

She breaks eye contact first, eyes fluttering closed when Harry slowly inches his face closer to her clothed cunt. She feels his hot breath fan over her lower tummy, feels him nip at the skin by her hip before his fingers loop into the top of her panties and he drags them down to her ankles.

She’s bare before him, core soaked and puffy from arousal. Harry doesn’t think he’s ever seen anything so fucking sexy and delicious in his entire life, and it takes all self-restraint to not bury his face between her thighs for the foreseeable future.

He doesn’t know what she wants or what she likes, so to play it safely, Harry peppers kisses from her ankles to her tummy and noses at the underside of her breasts. Their lips meet soon after, Y/N’s fingers tangling in his hair.

She blindly reaches for her bedside table, fingers nimbly searching for a foil packet. Her mind feels dizzy – hazy – at the feeling of Harry’s mouth on hers. She’s seeping down onto the mattress, her arousal too much all at once as his body rests between her legs; his cock nudging against her inner thigh beneath the fabric of his boxers.

Harry reaches a hand down between their bodies, can practically feel the heat from her hot cunt as his fingers hover over her slit. He gently pushes his middle finger through her folds, his skin immediately immersed in wetness as he does so.

Y/N gasps softly into his mouth, hips involuntarily bucking against his hand. “Please,” she whimpers, voice quiet.

The sound of her begging has his cock leaping, desperate to be buried inside her. Harry bites back a groan and swirls his finger around her arousal, spreading it across her cunt. He teases at her puckering hole, watches how her body responds to his touch. Like she was fucking made for him.

“You’re so wet, Penny.”

She shakes her head, breaking her lips from his. “Don’t call me that,” she laughs breathily, “Not when we’re doing this.”

Harry grins against her mouth, pulling away just enough to get a better look at her face. God, she’s fucking stunning.

With his eyes on hers, he gently pushes his finger through her cunt, cock twitching at just how tight she clamps around him.

“Okay, baby. Whatever you want.”

Her eyes roll to the back of her head, Harry’s smirk growing tenfold. He moves his wrist slowly, curling his finger against the spongy part of her g-spot as small, broken whimpers escape her lips.

He wants to kiss her, feel her plump lips on his again but the sight is too consuming. Watching her face contort in the pleasure that he’s inflicting her.

“Har, please.”

Her voice does something to him, something sinister and desperate. He coos down at her, enjoying the dynamic they seem to have a bit too much — how she submits to his touch and gives him all control.

“Be patient, baby. You’re so tight, I need to stretch you out a little for me first.”

He adds a second finger, struggles to tuck them into her cunt as he quickens the pace of his hand. She feels the burn of the intrusion but welcomes it regardless. His fingers are thick, stretching her better than hers do.

Y/N’s hips begin to roll against his palm, eagerly chasing more when he doesn’t offer it. He’s bulging in his boxers, desperate for relief with every sweet cry she mumbles out.

“Please, Har. I need you.”

He struggles to keep himself composed at how needy she sounds. Harry backs up onto his knees, continues fucking her with his fingers and uses his other hand to shimmy down his boxers.

Y/N watches with wide eyes. He’s huge – long and thick and so much fucking bigger than anything that she’s ever had before. The sight of him makes her stomach twitch in nerves, worried she won’t be able to take him.

Harry seems to notice her inner turmoil as he snatches the condom from the side of the bed and tears the foil open with his teeth. He removes his fingers from her cunt, brings them to his lips to get a taste.

She’s sweet on his tongue, and in that moment, Harry makes a promise to himself that this won’t be just a one-time thing.

“Don’t worry, baby,” he says, pinching the tip of the condom and rolling it down his thick length. “I’ll make it fit.”

She shudders when he lines himself with her dripping hole, swirling his tip around her arousal and gently nudging his way through. The burn is unlike before – much more prominent and harsh. And it doesn’t ease the further he fills her. She struggles to take him, to stretch around his cock. But Harry will fuck into her all night to get her accustomed to his size. To break her in.

Harry thinks he could explode at any minute. It’s been a long time since he’d had a cunt grip him the way hers does. And he knows full well just how good she’ll milk him dry of everything he has to offer.

He grits his teeth in an attempt to control his desire of fucking her silly. Not yet, he has to tell himself. She’s not ready for that.

“Doin’ so well, baby. So fuckin’ tight.”

Her head rolls back and his words offer a sweet relief to the initial sting. With every gentle whisper he breathes, she takes more and more of him. He’s close to nudging at her cervix, close to bottoming out.

“More,” she chokes. “Fuck me, Har. I need more.”

His movements are on the slower side to begin with – a proven struggle to pull out and back in with how tight her pussy grips him. But with every thrust of Harry’s hips, the better she stretches and the deeper he goes.

Her tits begin to bounce on her chest with every harsh movement he offers. Y/N’s hands reach for them, fingers tweaking at her hardened nipples and her hips move in circles against his own.

Harry sits back on his knees to watch as he fucks her, to admire just how good he’s making her feel. She’s breathless, brows pinched and mouth parted. He wants to touch and taste every fucking inch of her body – to bury himself so deep inside she begs him to never leave.

It’s primal, how he looks at her, thinks of her. The idea of anyone else having her like this makes him sick, angry. The thought alone has his vision blurring red and he struggles to snap out of such a dominant and protective mindset.

His. She’s all his whether she knows it or not.

“Tight little cunt, baby. Jesus Christ… fucking made for me.”

It’s filthy, the way he spits at her is the most sexy thing. How he claims her, owns her. No one could ever fuck her the way he is, no one could have her withering and begging and crying in pleasure. No one but him.

“Yes, yes,” she pants out.

All she wants is to please him, give him everything he wants and take anything he’ll offer in return. Her body starts to melt, into his touch, his words, his presence. He’s taking her somewhere she’s never been before and there’s no better feeling.

Harry’s cock rubs deliciously against her her g-spot, pinching at her cervix the deeper he gets. She’s soaked him, fully – his cock and his pubic bone. And the squelching sound her pussy makes is music to his fucking ears.

He’s struggling to see straight, eyes glossy as sweat begins to dot his hairline. If she feels this good now, he can’t imagine how warm and wet she’d feel raw – without the flimsy rubber between them. He’ll dream of it, how soft her cunt would be wrapped around his cock.

Christ, the thought has him twitching between her walls, splutters of guttural moans falling from his lips. The sounds are fuel to Y/N’s fire, her eyes snapping open to finally take a look at him.

He’s fucked out, head thrown back and bottom lip tight between his teeth. His stomach is tensed, knuckles white as he grips her hips, and it’s all because of her. She’s got him feeling like this, so fucked out and feral.

Y/N grinds her hips against him, faster now as she meets his pace. She’s sitting up on her elbows to watch where his cock nuzzles into her, watching how her arousal soaks the base of his cock and his lower tummy.

She can feel him in her stomach, how he’s almost nudging at her organs to make room for himself. She’s never felt so excited before, bare and naked – fucking under the moonlight in her pitch-black bedroom.

Maybe it’s the excitement or maybe it’s Harry’s fingers rubbing at her clit that sends her spiralling – sobbing out his name and begging for mercy. He doesn’t relent, he won’t. He wants to feel her exploding around him, wants to feel her close in on him until he’s releasing deep in her cunt, albeit in the condom.

It hits her like a fist – straight in her face. She’s coming over his cock, legs trembling and cunt convulsing as she sobs.

“Fuckkk, Daddy, please!”

Harry’s orgasm creeps up on him as his eyes widen at the name. He comes with her, fast and hard and if he wasn’t wearing a condom, he’d already be dripping out of her. Y/N’s legs continue to tremble, cunt squeezing him so tight that Harry thinks he could pass out.

He’s desperate to catch his breath, and she’s no better. Gentle whimpers continue to rake through her body as she slowly settles down from her high. Harry stares down at her, fucked out and body limp. The reality of what they’ve just done sits heavy in his stomach and he worries she’ll ask him to leave, that she regrets it.

But she doesn’t. Instead, Y/N whimpers his name as he slowly pulls out and reaches her hands down for him. He coos her, taps her thigh gently before tugging off the condom and tying it up.

She lies there, alone as Harry leaves the room. Worry is quick to consume her, the anxiety that he’s about to leave without another word. But he doesn’t. He returns to her bedroom with a damp cloth and his boxers back on his lower half.

He’s gentle as he wipes her down, helps settle her tired and aching body beneath a blanket and she doesn’t want to be the type that cries after sex, but no one has ever given her this kind of aftercare before. It all feels a little too domestic.

Not to Harry. Not really, anyway – he’s not the type to fuck and leave, not usually. It doesn’t feel foreign to help her get clean or tuck her in, and he only surprises her further when he lays beside her under the blanket, too.

“You’re staying?” she peeps out.

Harry hums, face close to hers. “If you want me to.” Her eyes are heavy as she covers her mouth to stifle a yawn.

“At least wait until I’m asleep before you sneak out.”

So, he does.

Thank you for sticking it out lol, part two will be posted next week, so let me know if you want to be added to my general tag list to be notified <3

Feedback is always welcomed and appreciated!!

Tags: @kissfromadove @stilesissaved @kiwitsayedsugar @savannahwendel @triski73 @stylesfever

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boyfhee · 2 days

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ㅤ ꣑୧ㅤㅤ:ㅤCANDLELITㅤㅤ𝒻t.ㅤㅤ성혼

﹙10097﹚ SYNOPSIS . . . the dating scene sucks, especially when the only person you want to be with is your roommate.

꣑୧ GENRE . . . roommate au, 'i hate them but they're hot' kind of energy

꣑୧ WARNINGS . . . profanities, drinking i mean lots of drinking we need alcohol shortage here, sunghoon smokes, mentions of one night stands, one very suggestive make out scene in the fourth section, undertones of cheating but not from sunghoon or reader, implications of sex although it's very light

꣑୧ NOTES . . . hi ( _ _; ) drowning in nervousness as i'm posting this. it's my first long fic after months ... i think the last one was in may or june 23 ... so please be nice >< don't know why but this didn't turn out how i wanted it to and it's definitely not one of my proudest works, but i hope u guys like it nonetheless huhu TT happy reading and please rb and drop feedback, it's highly appreciated ^_^

001. WHERE THERE’S HEAVEN THERE’S HELL

sunghoon is spiralling again.

a part of it is because of the endless assignments from classes, but that’s no news. he knows it’s his fault for procrastinating and waiting till two days before the due date to even think about working on them— unlike jake who somehow attends classes probably four times a week and is seen in the football fields instead, and still manages to be the first one to submit his essays. it’s admirable, annoying at most. when he sat down to do his sports science project three days before it was due, sunghoon realised why his professor gave them two months to finish it.

but realising your mistakes and working on them to be a better version of yourself are two different things.

for one, sunghoon believes those assignments are useless. no one cares about the impact of sports on society, maybe except heeseung and jake but again, in sunghoon’s mind, those two are never important. second, he’s too perfect to be working on himself. sunghoon is the best version of himself. he was born the day his uncle died, and his dad inherited the entire chain of restaurants his family owns across the country. he’s too amazing to be worrying about getting a degree he can buy— he thinks the university should be honoured he’s choosing to study— but that’s simply because his mother doesn’t want him to turn out like his sister.

back to the matter at hand— as he puts the beer can on the table and sits back on the couch, his eyes travel to the door yet again. seventh time in just a minute, he’s keeping a record of how you make him wait.

if there’s one thing he hates is being irresponsible ( coming from the great king of irresponsibility himself. ) you said you’d be back by twelve, and it’s half past one in night and not a soul knows your whereabouts. thirteen texts, seven missed calls, his phone is at forty-one percent and sunghoon is at his limit. if it wasn’t for your mom he wouldn’t give two flying fucks about where you are and how you’ve been.

sunghoon is actually surprisingly obedient and well-mannered, as opposed to the popular belief. he gave you and your mother the whole tour of the apartment the day you moved in. even made some coffee which isn’t much but your mother had loved him. he could see it in the way she looked at him with those sweet eyes, holding his hands as if he was her own son, and asking him to look after you.

‘please take care of my daughter,’ sunghoon thought he was getting married. instead of a wedding bell there were warning sirens going off. to this day he doesn’t know why she asked him that, minutes after she saw a dead cactus in the balcony that he killed by overwatering. he couldn’t even say no to her and just nodded, looking over at you briefly and noticing how you look like you were a bit embarrassed. sunghoon doesn’t know why he’s so serious about ‘taking care’ of you. he thought it would be easy, but you had to be devil’s favourite spawn and sunghoon happens to be your target.

however, he can’t take this anymore. he has a morning class and waiting till two am while drinking beer has done more damage to sunghoon than it should. he gets up from the couch with a sigh, leaving the empty cans unattended for a night as he makes a mental note to clean tomorrow. it isn’t until a click from the door stops him in his tracks.

“i’m back,” your voice is quiet, a yawn following immediately after your words as you look down while taking off your shoes. you’ve been drinking again, sunghoon can tell it from a mile away.

“you’re late,” he speaks over the silence, hands on his torso as he’s giving you those squinted eyes and doubtful looks. if sunghoon didn’t know any better, he would assume you fucked someone at the club with how messy you look at the moment.

“yeah well, we had to take gigi to the hospital,” your lazy voice isn’t much louder than a whisper. you stumble towards your room, a hiccup followed soon after by the same quiet and slurred tone. “she ate something weird,”

he huffs at your words, knowing it would very well be just another excuse. “you could’ve at least texted,”

“my phone died,”

“i’m sure your friends would be happy to lend you their phone,” he pauses when he feels himself getting a bit annoyed. a soft sigh falls off his lips as he looks down at the tiled floor before looking up and speaking in a much calmer voice. “i’m just saying it’s not exactly safe to be out alone on the streets this late at night,”

“i wasn’t alone,” that piques his interest. “jay drove me back,”

and sunghoon felt his whole world stop. “jay?”

“yeah, jay, park jongseong,” your voice is surprisingly sweet when you take his name and it bothers sunghoon for some reason. his face scrunches up when you bite back a smile, hoping it’s the alcohol not because of what he thinks it is. “he’s nicer than i thought,”

sunghoon is not unfamiliar with the name park jongseong.

he hears it every day on and off the campus, more often than he likes. first things first, he’s just as popular as jake, for being american, which brings sunghoon to the question— why in the world would he leave america to study in korea when jay could have attended one of the ivy leagues with his face and money?

and the second and more important question, why in the world is park jongseong dropping you home at two in the night?

sunghoon only watches you in disbelief and astonishment as you stumble to your room, mumbling something incoherently. your words ring in his ear like sirens. ‘he is better than you’ jay is better than sunghoon. he scoffs almost offensively in your direction. that has to be the biggest lie of the twenty-first century.

he follows you to your room, reaching out to grab your arms when you almost trip but you manage to balance yourself. he opens the door and turns on the lights for you. “why were you with him to begin with?”

“oh, you don’t know?” and you turn around with eyes wide open as he shakes his head like a deer in the headlight. “he asked me out,”

sunghoon didn’t get a single ounce of sleep last night.

it’s your fault, clearly. had you been back earlier on the time, nothing would’ve happened. and jay— sunghoon sights at the thought of him, eyes narrowing as he grits on his pen as if he’s going to break it into two.

“dude, are you hungry?” jake pokes sunghoon by his shoulder, dragging the latter out of his trail of thoughts.

“what?” sunghoon shoots a blank look, one that makes his friend sigh in concern. afterall, it’s not everyday he sees sunghoon chewing on a pen. “i’m not,”

“you’ve been out of it since the morning,”

and sunghoon has been out of it since jay’s name fell from your lips.

he’s not your friend, definitely not the first guy you’ve called by his name after sunghoon. but something doesn’t sit right. even after tossing and turning in bed for the whole night, he can’t figure out what bothers him more— the fact you said jay is better than him, or the fact that he asked you out on a date.

it’s the first one, he convinces himself. who you date is none of his business, he can’t be arsed enough to care about your love life or relationship status. ( although, he does care a little because he’s nosy. ) what bothers him more is that jay is, to put it in simple words, a player. all that face and no empathy for emotions is a waste, and to think you don’t know this— or maybe you do and yet still chose to go out with him, is beyond sunghoon’s comprehension.

“what do you think about jay?” he asks abruptly, catching jake’s attention, looking at him a little too intently for an answer.

“he’s a nice guy,” a casual reply before he gets back to his assignment before jake looks back at sunghoon with newly found interest. “he turned in my spanish essay last week, oh and drove me back from the bar a few days ago after you ditched me. why?”

sunghoon simply shakes his head, getting back to his books even though his focus is nowhere near studies. at this point, he doesn’t know if it’s jay distracting him or you. even your words keep playing over and over again in the back of his head. jay and nice in the same sentence doesn’t seem fit. sure, he helps his friends and drops his girl back home, but that’s only three days before there’s a new girl in his arms.

002. RUNNING OUT OF SANITY

sunghoon doesn’t hear the door click open when you come back from your classes, too busy in the balcony while humming a tune that you recognise immediately. you take off your shoes, noticing how he taps his foot along with the melody, and it’s quiet in the apartment, apart from the sound of traffic and wind rustling through the trees around.

“i don’t like people who smoke,” smoking is not on your list of likes, but you find yourself next to sunghoon whenever he’s with a cigarette. just like now, when you return from yet another one of your dates— or meet-ups as you prefer to call it right now— with jay. it wasn’t really planned. you bumped into him after classes and he was on his way back home, so you asked him for a coffee.

he almost jumps at your sudden voice but manages to compose himself, scowing at the distaste in your expression before scoffing, the cigarette still dancing between his lips. “good think, i’m not looking forward to be liked by you,”

he studies the frown on your face, glares as if your eyes are shooting daggers in his direction. it’s amusing to him how easy it is to get on your nerves. he leans against the metal railings, hair falling over his forehead. his eyes stay on your for a few seconds before he holds the cigarette between his index and middle finger, putting it away from his mouth and blowing out the smoke in your directions. he laughs mockingly when you step back, fanning out the smoke with your hands, cursing under your breath.

“are you crazy?!” you exclaim in annoyance, coughing slightly at his poor attempt at entertainment. your frown deepens when he mumbles a quiet apology although not meaning it, from the looks of it, and lifts the cigarette back to his lips.

“you’re back early,” he states casually, tapping the cigarette butt and watching the ash fall down from the balcony before a taunting chortle falls off his lips. “did jay dump your ass or something?”

your nose scrunches up at his actions, although mostly at the tobacco you can still smell in your air. you look down at the road, watching a mercedes passing by. “no, he had to go somewhere so he left early,”

“i knew it! he’s good for nothing,” and he drops the cigarette to the floor, crushing it with his foot even though at the back of his mind, he knows you’re going to yell at him for cleaning that up. “what kind of guy can’t even spend time with his girlfriend?”

“we’re not dating,”

“that’s worse!” he emphasises, and a pause follows as he looks at you with a confused expression. “wait— didn’t you say he asked you out?”

“he did, but he said he wants to wait until exams are over,” there’s a hint of displeasure in your voice. his eyes travel down to your fingers, especially the ring you’re fiddling with before they’re back on your face when you speak again. “we just decided to hang out,”

he practically scoffs at your words, quite literally in disbelief. a knowing sigh comes out of his mouth as he stands straight, this time standing with his back against the railing, feeling the cold metal though his thin white t-shirt. a part of him wants to laugh at your stupidity and point at how naive you are, while another part of him wants to find jay and beat him to pulp. he doesn’t know why there’s anger pooling in his stomach at the mere thought of jay just messing around with you.

“what a sick bastard,” he huffs with a tincture of annoyance in his tone. “how much do you want to bet he’s playing with you?”

“you’re the one who’s sick,” and even though it clicks with him that you’re referring to a few minutes earlier when he smoked all in your face, sunghoon still frowns when you call him sick. “he’s just prioritising his studies, there’s nothing wrong with that. at least he doesn’t smoke while being all up my face,”

you two just bask in silence after that.

he doesn’t have much to say— actually he does, but he doesn’t know how to put it in a decent, coherent way. of course, your reaction won’t be the most pleasant if he told you he wants to punch jay’s good for nothing handsome face. he wonders what you’re thinking when he looks over at you. you seem happy whenever you talk about your supposed ‘future boyfriend,’ yet it’s evident that you’re upset. he likes to think you’re having your doubts too. it's reassuring to him for some reason— because that’s good for you, of course. if you’re upset, you have your doubts, and if you have your doubts you might not fall victim to whatever sick game jay is playing.

“oh, actually, he doesn’t smoke,” but then you speak in a matter-of-fact way, as if comparing him to jay before giving him a mocking smile. “he’s better than you,”

those words ring in his mind for a good while.

you go back inside and he hears you shut the door to your room as an annoyed sigh falls off his lips. hearing that jay is nice from jake was another thing, but hearing to say he’s better than him leaves a bitter taste on his tongue. and he doesn’t know why he’s feeling this way, these little changes in how he usually is, it’s new. it’s frustrating him out.

it isn’t until his phone vibrates that he’s dragged out of his ocean of thoughts. his brows furrow when he notices the time, having realised that he basically wasted the entire noon even though he didn’t attend classes after giving heeseung an excuse that he’s sick. his eyes squint at the sender, and then a groan escaping his lips when he opens to read it.

noh chaeun 4:15pm hoon! my last two classes have been cancelled are you up for some coffee?

sunghoon doesn’t reply, rather leaving his classmate’s messages on seen, too bothered by his inner turmoil to spend time with her. it’s not like him to be this way, to be so bothered over something that doesn’t concern him. you’re definitely not someone so significant and jay is definitely not the first guy you’re with. in fact, he has seen you kiss that guy from one of your classes— as much as he hates to recall that incident now— and had sneaked up to tell your mother about it over the phone when she had called you.

you’ve never had a serious relationship, not after meeting him. in his head, you always came back to him and he’d be lying if he hadn’t joked about it with his friends during the initial few weeks after you had moved in. when he had mentioned to jake that you’re pretty and his friend had teased him a few days later, saying his ‘crush’ was with this other guy, sunghoon, did in fact, say he doesn’t care because you always come back to him; or rather his apartment, actually, but whatever fits the joke.

that day, he had a good laugh out of it and the joke died back then itself, more so after he started complaining about you to his friends. your habits, your actions, the things you say that tick him off, your quirky and quick remarks— everything. perhaps, even about your habit of arriving late on weekends from parties and ruining his sleep because you forget the key most of the time, so he has to wake up and open the door for you, but not guys, never guys.

it hurts his head to even try and figure it out, to find the reasoning behind the pang in his chest every time you mention jay. he likes to think it’s just harmless competition although for no reason, even though both of them have done plenty of things to piss each other off just for the fun of it. sunghoon thinks he can live with it and walks back inside to the living room, until he sees you walking out of your room on phone with someone, the name of he who shall be mentioned rolling off your tongue again, and he finally pulls out his phone with a frustrated sigh.

sunghoon 4:21pm sure, i’ll pick you up in ten

“actually, my mom wants to invite your family over for dinner this weekend,” the girl in front of him speaks with a smile after muttering a quiet thank you to the waiter after he gets their order. “she’s very grateful for the donation your dad made for our art gallery and wants to thank properly,”

“talk to my parents, then,” it’s a simple reply, too bland and forced for her liking.

sunghoon hasn’t spared her a single look in the past ten minutes that they’ve been sitting together at the table. firstly, he doesn’t know why he drove to a restaurant when she asked for a coffee. it’s not even close to dinner time, and the awkward yet sweet smile on her face didn’t make it better for him, so he ordered starters and drinks to drag their little impromptu dinner out.

“sunghoon, to be honest,” chaeun tries to strike up a conversation again, despite the constant lack of effort from his side. “i want you—”

“hey, isn’t that jongseong?” and he cuts her off immediately, finger pointing outside the glass panes beside them as he stares in the direction behind her with brows knit together in shock. “who’s that with her?”

“jongseong?” she repeats the name before turning her head, forming an ‘o’ when she spots a familiar figure through the multitude on the streets. “ah, that’s myung jihye. she has been pursuing him for a while. i guess he finally agreed,”

“they’re dating?!” his voice is full of surprise and disbelief unlike hers, so seemed to be happy for the girl instead. he stares outside with a heavy silence as the couple disappears between the crowd before looking at the girl in front of him.

“oh, i wouldn’t say that…i don’t know but it’s possible they are.” it doesn’t miss her attention how sunghoon’s fingers tighten around the fork. “everybody in our major knows jihye has crush on him and they’re probably a thing by now,”

and he wishes you were here with him right now so that he could show you the true colours of the dear guy you’ve been going out with, the one who’s supposedly ‘better’ than him. he wants you to realise that his words weren’t false and he isn’t sick, after all, and if you’d cry, he would be down to tell you it’s not the end of the world. that there are a hundred other guys better than jay, ones who won’t even breathe in front of another woman, who’d treat you better— hell, i can treat you better if you ever give me a chance— and then a pause in his train of thoughts.

he looks at chaeun, who’s looking back at him with a perplexed look and her own set of questions. his mind replays those words yet again, and he screams internally.

what the heck?!

surprisingly enough, sunghoon has been thinking about jay for the whole evening now, obviously not in a good way. his eyes keep travelling to the knife stand on the kitchen island occasionally and every single time, he has to convince himself that murder is not the right answer to anything.

for some reason, he can’t stop imagining your smiles while on date with jay. not that he has ever seen those— wish i could— as he slaps himself out of his state of mind yet again. not only that man is playing with you but on jihye who’s apparently his girlfriend? he lets out the ugliest scoff known to mankind, because in sunghoon’s head, jay is a sick joke made by biology.

he waits for you to return from your shopping spree for about an hour, having beer as a company. he tries to stay awake although his eyes get droopy, and then every ounce of sleep leaves his body when he hears the door unlock.

“yn,” he practically jumps out of the couch, it almost scares you. he accidentally bumps into the living room table on the way, knocking an empty can of beer to the floor but too busy to bother picking it up. “i have to tell—” his eyes go down to the eleven shopping bags in your hands, as he counts them. “— wait, what did you shop so much for?”

“oh, i have to attend a family wedding next month,” his chest feels warm when he sees you smiling and looking so excited, and it’s making him go crazy on the inside because he doesn’t know what is happening to him. for some reason, he starts imagining you in a gown, like the one you wore for the fresher’s party, but then he forces his mind to get back to the point. “i’m thinking of asking jay to be my date,”

and his heart drops down to his stomach.

this has to be a fucking joke, and he tells himself. for a split second, he thinks he didn’t hear you properly. maybe you said jake because, well, jake did tweet a ‘date for rent’ form five months ago when he needed money to buy tickets for a post malone concert that cost more than his gentle monster glasses ( not that he got any money but at least they got a good laugh out of it. )

you remove your shoes and put the shopping bags on the couch before sitting down as well, letting out a heavy sigh. “you look like you saw a ghost,”

“a ghost would’ve been better,” he catches you looking at him when he mumbles under his breath, sort of grateful you didn’t hear him before sunghoon would rather not have another argument with you over how jay is not only a bad choice, he’s the worst choice.

he looks over at you when you pull out your phone, fingers fluttering over the screen as you text someone with a giddy smile. he considers telling you what he had seen earlier, but god, he loved to see you smile like that. the way you press your lips together to suppress a grin, looking ever so happy as if you have won a lottery. he doesn’t think you’ve ever smiled like that at him, and it aggravates him even more when he realises that you probably smile like that every time you see jay.

jay is getting everything he isn’t deserving of, and it pisses sunghoon off down to his bones.

but again, he can’t bring himself to tell you the truth. you look too happy for your own good, it pains him physically to even imagine your reaction when you’ll come to know the truth. and then he pulls himself together, telling himself that it is your fault in the first place to trust someone like jay and ignore the warning signs he was giving you.

in the end, he leaves without having any further conversations with you, going to bed two hours earlier than usual even though he knows he isn’t going to get any sleep. sunghoon is convinced he’s losing his mind, faster than a day ago actually. he lets out a frustrated groan and covers himself with his blanket, hoping to catch some sleep.

it’s going to be yet another long day tomorrow.

003. A CHANGE OF STANCE

sunghoon thinks you’re hot.

what the fuck?

“i asked something,” you remind, pulling him out of his trail of thoughts and he flinches slightly, making your brows furrow in confusion. “how do i look?”

“huh— what? oh,” he takes in your appearance again. hair down, make up done— you’re wearing your favourite lip tint? and the best dress he has seen you in so far, looking so mind blowing it actually blows his mind and short circuits his brain.

even your favourite lip tint … sunghoon doesn’t know why he’s looking at your lips in the first place but little does he know he’s fucked.

absolutely. completely. fucked.

nonetheless, he manages to compose himself, clearing his throat and sitting up ever so elegantly on the couch, legs crossed, the magazine still in his hands. “you look…t-terrific,”

you can’t help but get even more confused at his words, wondering if it was a bad idea to even ask him for his opinion, even though you play along. “like in a good way or a bad way?”

“in a terrific way,” he blurts out, eyes wide open as panic settles in slowly inside his stomach, and he’s stuttering, shocked, surprised, fucked, again. “you look terrific in a terrific way…so terrifically terrific in the most terrific way possible,”

“are you high?”

well, he would say he is! never in the two years that he has known you did sunghoon think he’d find himself floored, figuratively, and speechless, literally, at the sight of you. and he’s not saying you look bad on other days. you look good, in fact. good as in plain and presentable, but never in a good good way and definitely not in a hot way, of course.

“anyway, i’m going out. receive my parcel for me if it arrives,” you move to put on your shoes, taking a few seconds to pick between the two you think would suit your outfit. for a moment, you consider asking him to help you choose— as you look at him up and down peripherally, and he looks terrified. and you shrug it off, grabbing one of your loafers.

“where are you going?” he asks after a good minute of silence, sounding calmer than earlier as he gets off the couch and walks up to you. his nose scrunches up in disapproval as your hands move to one of your jimmy choos for a brief second, before you decide to go back to your initial pick.

“date,” he takes a moment to register your words, despite this happening many times.

a date. he scoffs softly, looking away, arms crossed.

a date, again. sunghoon doesn’t give a fuck.

“with jay,” you continue, this time with a sweet smile on your face that makes his heart flutter for some reason. maybe, he does give a fuck.

now, sunghoon should feel bad for his fellow friend of a friend because he’s on a date with you, but instead he wants to snap his neck in two. the name is starting to give him an ick— jay this, jay that. you’re hanging out with jay, having coffee with jay, going on a date with jay, shopping with jay, next would be going to bed with jay— he pauses immediately, shaking his head. he doesn’t really like the sound of that.

“whatever,” he tells himself when you walk out of that door, looking all pretty and excited. he doesn’t know why he’s getting so worked up over a date, that too with someone who— according to sunghoon and chaeun— is dating someone else. he would pay to see you back home all miserable and he would point fingers at you and laugh, saying he told you already while you had your conscience and rationality clogged up with the possibility of getting dicked down.

but that doesn’t change the fact that you’re on a date with jay fucking park. and you’re looking hot.

he sighs, slouching back on the couch, looking outside at the bright blue skies and then sighs again. he needs to be lobotomized.

it’s three in the noon and sunghoon is drowning himself in misery and pity. and soju.

a glass after another and then another, along with two empty bottles already on the table. even the owners are giving him a weird look and heeseung can only let him ruin his reputation so much.

“there, there,” the senior takes the half empty bottle of soju from his hand and puts it aside, sighing pitifully at sunghoon. “that’s enough for today. you need to stop drinking,”

“heeseung,” sunghoon looks up at the guy in front of him, looking horribly pitiful, eyes a bit unfocused from the alcohol settling in his system. “do you know yn?”

and heeseung pauses for a few moments, not knowing what prompted him to ask this question. more so when you and heeseung went to the same highschool and even were in the music club. he nods slightly in doubt, raising his glass to his lips. “of course,”

“do you think he’s pretty?”

“of course,”

“do you think she’s hot?”

“of course,” it takes heeseung quite a few seconds to respond and sunghoon sort of wants to punch him in the face for agreeing because he feels a certain way when others find you hot— but he would claim it’s soju giving him heartburns. “why are you even asking this suddenly?”

“she went on a date with jay,” he responds in the most miserable and sullen voice known to mankind. his shoulders practically slouching at the mention of he-who-shall-not-be-mentioned, finger tracing the rim of the glass in front of him with incoherent whines falling off his lips.

“so what?” jake interjects, beckoning the owner for yet another bottle for soju. it was necessary, as heeseung had warned earlier while arriving at the restaurant, considering sunghoon’s impromptu text about wanting to meet up.

“jake, did you hear what i said? she’s on a date with jay. park. jong. seong,” the youngest spells out every syllable, sitting up straight as he gets defensive. “she thinks he’s madly in love with her or something but she’s wrong! the day i went out with chaeun, i saw him with jihye and guess what? chaeun said everyone knows they’re a thing but apparently, yn doesn’t know this. i’ve told her so many times that he is not worth it but she won’t understand she’s fucking dumb oh my god,”

and…silence.

absolute fucking maddening silence that made sunghoon go even more insane before jake finally decides to speak, albeit in disbelief.

“that monologue was unnecessary,” the foreigner pours in another glass for the three of them, filling them up completely, knowing this is going in a new direction yet a one that has been anticipated by both him and heeseung. “besides, since when do you care about her?”

“she’s my roommate,”

“you like her,” heeseung exclaims, and silence follows again for a few seconds before sunghoon gasps scandalously, slamming his glass down on the table which turns a few heads in their direction as jake mutters an embarrassed apology for it.

“i don’t,” sunghoon speaks in a voice much calmer than his previous tone, even leaning in towards the table to put emphasis on his words. jake pours himself another glass, scoff at his words while shaking his head mockingly which only pisses him off more.

“i knew this would happen,” heeseung continues, stating it as a matter of fact while nudging jake to pour him a glass as well. “saw this coming from a mile away when you cried over her going on a blind date the last time you got drunk,”

he can’t point out when that must’ve happened, but he doesn’t refute his words, simply letting his eyes travel across the room for a few moments. the frown on his lips deepens when he meets jake’s knowing gaze as he gets defensive once again. “i’m telling you, i don’t like her,”

“you said that about hello kitty but she’s everywhere in your room now,” he turns his phone with the screen up when he feels jake’s eyes on it, or particularly on the hello kitty sticker on his phone cover as the boy nudges him for another glass. “go on, you’ll need it.”

and sunghoon does, drinking more than he usually does thanks to jake filling his glass again and again for the sake of his sob story. the cab drops him in front of his apartment and he stumbles his way to the elevator. the silence sobers him out for some reason as he leans against the walls of the elevator and thinks about you.

perhaps you’re still with jay, sharing smiles and stories, kisses if you’re brave enough. he likes to think you are not, that you would chicken out— it makes him feel better about himself. he imagines you holding hands with him and then shrugs that thought off his mind just as quickly, huffing at the bitter taste it leaves in his mouth as he walks out of the elevator once it reaches his floor.

sunghoon planned to take a shower and sleep, but every thought water downs to nothing when he spots you crouching next to the door with knees pressed up to your chest. he can’t see your face, but he knows you’re sad, and it makes him stop in front of you, his heart accelerating when you look up at him with glistening eyes.

you look miserable.

and sunghoon has no reaction. he’s frozen, hands on his side as he stares at you. he was supposed to laugh at you for your stupidity. but you look so utterly sad and heart broken, god, he wants to punch jay in his throat. yet again, every single thought leaves his mind when his eyes fall back on your face, his hands instinctively opening out to you as he speaks in a voice as soft as a feather.

“let’s go inside,”

004. CANDLELIT

“he said it was a bet,” you speak over the silence, fiddling with your fingers. you look up at sunghoon— who’s sitting with legs crossed in front of you while you’re curled up in one corner of the couch. “and that he never meant to drag it out for so long but he didn’t know how to tell me,”

“a bet?” he scoffs bitterly, looking away for a fraction of a second before his eyes are back on you. “what an asshole,”

it’s not the first time sunghoon has said that. in fact, asshole is all and the only word he uses to define jay. you still think it was a stretch, for jay isn’t that bad. sure, he lied to you and played with your feelings— which you will never accept that you had feelings for him because you don’t want to look pathetic— but he wasn’t rude. well, at least he paid for all the three dates you two went on with the locations being some high end restaurants or bakeries.

on the other hand, sunghoon stares at you in silence. his eyes trace over your sullen face, and then to your fingers. for a second, he considers holding your hands…roommates can do that at least, right? to comfort one another, but then he catches you looking up at him and he averts his gaze to a distant corner. “don’t start crying now!”

“i’m not! i didn’t even like him that much…” and he can’t help but suppress his smile at the pout on your face as you refuse to look at him. it’s adorable, he never thought he would ever say that, but it’s true. your mannerisms are cute, you’re cute, and it’s eating his brain cells.

“is that so? you talked about him like you two were in love or something,”

“stop it!”

he stares at you quietly for a few seconds again. even though you’re being defensive out of embarrassment right now, trying to prove to him that you’re not heartbroken, sunghoon knows you’ll be crying the moment you’re behind the closed doors of your room. on other days, he wouldn’t care so much. not more than giving a few pats on a back and telling you to suck it up despite the concern in his voice. today, however, he feels differently.

you got played. it’s your heart that’s broken. you feel like a fool, and yet sunghoon is sitting in front of you, trying to find words amidst awkwardness and hesitation. his heart feels heavy for you. it’s unfathomable on his part.

he suddenly remembers the day you mentioned that jay is better than him. he almost scoffs at that, again. well, you might harbour feelings for the american guy but at least sunghoon never had you holding back your tears. and he swears it would never come to that, if you ever have feelings for him because sunghoon would be a better boyfriend— and then he comes back to his senses as soon as those words register inside his brain, cheeks heating up at the sudden thought before he clears his throat.

“do you want ramen?” he manages to change the topic ever so swiftly, getting up from the couch and already walking to the kitchen without waiting for your response. apparently, getting away from you would ease his heartbeat, although hearing your voice has just as much effect on him as your presence or a mere thought of you.

“are you cooking?”

he lets out a breathy laugh at your words, getting two packs of ramen from the shelf. “of course, do you think i’d ask you to cook when you look like you went through a divorce and lost the custodies of all your three kids?”

you frown at his words, although ending up laughing at them just a second later. it’s hard to not laugh at how silly he is sometimes, if you ignore his annoying tendencies. sunghoon puts the water to boil, fighting back a smile at the sound of your laughter. it’s better than seeing you all sad over a guy who doesn’t deserve you.

you get off the couch as well, making your way to the kitchen, wanting to help him since he listened to your sob story. it’s quiet, and you hear slight rumbling outside as you take a quick look at the weather outside through the windows and then within a few seconds, thunder pierces through the silence hanging in the room.

sunghoon flinches visibly, freezing in his stance before the sound of heavy rain fills the kitchen. he turns on the electric stove and it blows out. all the lights in the apartment go out, darkness settling in and disturbed just as quickly as the room fills with bright flashes of light, illuminating your face for a short second before it’s dark again.

“wait, i’ll get my phone— oh,” you reach out for the back pocket of your trousers, quickly get your phone and turn it on for the flash light before it powers off. “out of battery,”

he takes a blind step into the darkness when it thunders again and he notices you standing with your arms around yourself when the light surges in the room for a moment again. he hopes you won’t push him away if he puts his arm around you, but then you two bump into each other. a quiet apology finds its way out of your lips, and he can tell you’re flustered.

“where are the candles?” he asks to distract you from the fact that he’s holding your hand and pulling you aside gently, so you don’t crash into each other again. your hands feel oddly warm in this cold weather, and it only flutters his heart even more.

“second shelf from the right i think,” your voice is interrupted by thunder again and your hands instinctively tighten around his fingers. and then a loud thud follows, causing you to gasp slightly. “are you okay?”

“i can’t fucking see,” his voice is strained, oozing off pain as he lets go off your hands. you open your mouth to speak before he bumps into something again. something falls off the counter, perhaps the spoon by the sound of it and he apologises shortly after. it’s harder to navigate around his own apartment, more than he had imagined.

sunghoon manages to find the candles, setting them on the counter with pure intuition before lighting one of it up with the lighter he always carries around in his pocket. he turns around, almost bumping into you and before he could say anything, he sees you pressed up against one of the counters, face illuminated by the dim candle light.

you’re close, too close, he’s afraid you can hear his heart going crazy at the proximity. his mind is telling him to step aside but he’s too lost looking in your eyes, ( as you are too ) with you looking so impossibly beautiful under the faint golden glow.

“is this okay?” he whispers softly and you simply nod, not a word coming out of your mouth as you find yourself entranced by his face. sunghoon has always been aphrodite’s son, as his admirers would call him, and now that you’re seeing him so closely, you’re realising he’s something much more beautiful.

it doesn’t slip your attention how his gaze settles on your lips for a quick second, your body tensing up at the sudden movement. your breath hitches as he leans closer, dipping his head down. your heart is racing while he feels like his heart has stopped— it’s timeless, as he finds himself just a few centimetres away from your lips, not wanting to stop even though he gives you a chance to pull back, whispering softly, “can i?”

you nod. and sunghoon doesn’t waste another second, capturing your lips with his.

it’s still at first, with your lips only pressed up together for a few seconds. it’s only a few seconds after he pulls back ever so slightly, and then tilts his head to the other side and goes in for another kiss, this time moving his lips slowly against yours. he feels you tense up for a brief while and then melting as you kiss him back, your fingers lacing around his tenderly. you flinch when it thunders again, breaking the kiss, but feeling shivers down your spine as you feel his breath on your lips.

he takes a few seconds, fingers ghosting up your hands to rest on your waist, tugging you closer as he brushes his lips against yours. “focus on my lips,”

and he kisses you again, this time a bit more firmly, albeit it’s slow and gentle at first, his lips moving against yours in a way that's both comforting and exciting. but as the moments pass, he presses in deeper, more insistently. he lets his body press more firmly against yours, his chest touching yours as his tongue gently teases at the seam of your lips. it was working, the way his lips move against yours, it calms your nerves from the thunder but lights them up again when he nibbles gently on your lower lip, his fingers digging into the skin of your waist as he continues to kiss you so fervently.

it takes a passing second for you to realise what you’re doing. it surprises you, however not enough to pull back, or maybe the way his tongue feels against yours stops you from doing so. you’d be lying if you say you hadn’t thought of kissing him before— as early as two days after moving in. and now that you’re actually kissing him, everything feels like a fever dream.

he tucks your chin up with his fingers, pulling you in closer to deepen the kiss. he is a good kisser, sunghoon uses that to boast about himself, he has always been good at this— kissing, bragging, making your knees weak, and all you could do was melt into him wet and sloppy kisses that he plants on your skin.

he dips his head down to your neck, pressing sloppy, open mouthed kisses down the column of your throat, pulling your blouse aside to get a better access to your collarbones and shoulders. it felt like his body has a mind of its own, and he’s only following right behind. when a soft gasp leaves your lips, he moves back to your lips again, wanting to swallow every little sound you make that makes his mind haywire.

your breaths are heavy, hands around his neck with fingers grazing the skin of his nape. a movement that makes him moan softly in the kiss as he presses you against the counter, holding you between his arms. his hand that's resting on your hip moves up, tracing the curve of your waist and then sliding under your shirt to rest on your bare skin, lips curling up in a subtle smirk as he hears you gasp yet again.

“sunghoon—” you pull back, getting a quick glance at his half-lidded eyes when the lightning from the thunderstorm fills the room. he can still feel your laboured breathing on his lips and it does nothing but pull him in even more. after all, sunghoon would be lying if he said he didn’t imagine doing this with you.

“we’ll stop,” he pecks your lips, then trailing his lips down your jawline and to your neck, leaving a trail of gentle kisses along your skin. “when the candle goes out,”

005. WHERE THE LINE FADES

when sunghoon wakes up the next morning, he’s met with cold empty sheets on the side and the memories from last night start flooding his mind. his heartbeat accelerates at the mere thought of you, especially how you were last night and every time his name fell off your lips in bliss and pleasure— he would’ve preferred waking up to you rather than emptiness.

he lays idly for a few minutes and stares at the ceiling, looking for where it all had started. was it the day you told him jay asked you out? maybe not, he doesn’t like to think of himself as a jealous person. it must’ve been when you asked for his opinion on your outfit, he tells himself, you looked too good to be true that day. a few seconds more and he sits up with a soft groan, seemingly unable to find answers to any of his questions.

the weather seems to have improved as he notices the cosy sunlight outside. he slips on this shirt before walking down to the shared bathroom, rubbing his eyes softly and brushing his fingers through his hair with a sigh. he puts his hand on the door knob and looking up in surprise when it opens on the other side.

“oh,” the slight hint of shyness on your face doesn’t escape his gaze, just like how enchanting you look this early in the morning with hair wet from the shower. you bite slightly on your lower lip before the awkwardness in the air is disturbed by your voice. “morning,”

actually, it must’ve all started the day you moved in.

“morning,” he replies back, rubbing his nape and looking away. the weight of questions lingering around makes it hard for him to look in your eyes. “would you like to have breakfast?”

you nod and follow him into the kitchen after making a short trip to your room.

you steal a few glances at him while eating your breakfast, feeling your palms sweat at the thought of bringing it up to him. you avoid it for a few minutes, tossing the question around in your head while trying to make small talks about the ketchup, as bad as it could get. it feels a bit suffocating until you finally decide to address the elephant in the room. “so about last night—”

“it was a mistake,” he cuts you off immediately, a heavy pause following shortly after. he looks up in your eyes for the first time since the morning. “let’s just forget it,”

and his words leave a bitter taste in your mouth. it could’ve been just another one night stand for you had it not been with sunghoon— your roommate, the person you see everyday, the person who managed to give you butterflies the day you moved in. your fingers tighten around the spoon and you consider arguing back for a moment before you push that idea further back in your head.

it could be just another thing added to the lists of things that have been buried, like the time you and sunghoon almost kissed in the elevator last year.

“right,” you nod quietly, convincing yourself that it’s not a big deal. that he’s just another guy in your life like jay. actually, you don’t feel like wanting to compare them anymore. you don’t know where the line marking the difference fades. “of course, yeah,”

you don’t even like the sound of that.

“yeah,”

you don’t wait another minute before leaving your unfinished breakfast on the table and going to your room. his eyes follow your movements, conscience nudging him to chase after you. he contemplates it for a while, and then you walk out with your bag. “i’ll see you after classes,”

and then sunghoon doesn’t see you for the rest of the morning.

or the day, in fact. usually, you two end up bumping into each other at least once, but sunghoon doesn’t see you around for the whole day. he skips spanish, deciding to go back to his apartment earlier than usual. he turns on the tv, deciding to watch a football watch with beer on the side while waiting for you. an hour passes, then another, and another.

there’s no sign of you.

it isn’t until he rings up a few of your friends that he hears that you’re staying over at giselle’s for the night. he wouldn’t blame you, couldn’t, not after everything that went down a night ago. you needed some space and so did he, but somewhere inside he wondered if he should’ve been honest with you when you brought up that topic during breakfast instead of saying the first thing that came to his mind and dismissing it.

but, he dismisses it again, letting you be on your own for as long as you need, knowing you’d come back soon.

which you do, the very next day, much to his surprise. he had expected you to avoid him for at least a week. he notices the way you look when you return early in the morning, tired and exhausted as if you hadn’t got a single ounce of sleep. there’s silence engulfing him but you walk to your room before he could even open his mouth to speak. and then you ignore him for the rest of the day.

he starts feeling annoyed at some point, trying to come up with a reason for your actions. he tries striking up conversations with you and you give short responses, or just nod. when you walk away without answering him when he asked about your day, sunghoon wanted to grab your wrist and pull you back for a second, but he dismisses that idea just as soon as it pops up in his head. he doesn’t even realise how quickly time passes in silence, not until he returns from heeseung’s apartment after spending two nights and one day with him and jake and checks his phone, realising it’s already close to being a week till you’re gone radio silent. he notices a few texts, mostly his study group that have been planning meet-ups to study, one that he rarely attends. his eyes especially squint in confusion at the texts from your mother, saying she had been trying to get in touch with you but getting no response.

he was on his way to his room when he heard the door unlock. a pause, the click of the doorknob strikes through the silence, followed by your footsteps. he takes a few seconds to sort out his thoughts before speaking. “your mom texted me since you weren’t picking up her phone,”

“my phone died,” you give a simple response, almost too quickly for his liking. he lets his eyes follow your movements as you take off your shoes and jacket, putting it on the couch.

it takes him back to the day you told him about jay asking you out.

it was exactly the same— you arrived late, your phone had died. he was asking the same questions, albeit laced with annoyance. today, it’s hesitation, maybe slight doubt. sunghoon can’t stop you from seeing jay, but the idea of you being with him bothers him more than expected. so, he follows up with yet another question.

“where have you been?” he asks, wanting to maintain a casual demeanour even though his heart is pounding in his chest just from being near you. he isn’t expecting any response, actually, however he’s met with surprise when you actually reply.

“with jay,” the words fall from your mouth as if you’re used to them, used to saying his name. there’s an awkward pause before you clarify. “we had dinner together. he wanted to apologise properly,”

“that’s— that’s great,” he manages to squeeze out, but sunghoon thinks jay could’ve left you alone instead of meeting you if he wanted to apologise so bad.

you definitely had feelings for jay, even though they didn’t go as deep for you to come home sobbing your eyes out the day you learnt the truth. to sunghoon, that is enough of a reason to hate him even more. just the mere thought of your heart sinking whenever you’d even think of jay made him fist his hands, nails almost digging in the palm of his hands.

sunghoon doesn’t have much experience with girls. in fact, none at all. flings are one thing, and girlfriends another. he has had both— none too serious. the first time someone asked him out was in highschool, although he’s surprised it didn’t happen much earlier. that time, just agreed to go out with her because his friends were in relationships too and he didn’t want to fall behind. it wasn’t soon before it turned into a competition after he got into university. not his best self, it isn’t something he’s proud of now that he thinks about it.

and sunghoon isn’t half better than jay in that aspect, although obviously not as bad as to bet on going on a date with another girl while he already has a girlfriend. however, if you had feelings for him— as he thinks while watching you walk to your room— he wouldn’t let a single tear fall from your lips.

“about that night,” he follows you into your room, practically hearing his heartbeat echo through his ears. he gulps nervously when he notices you looking at him with a sliver of hope in your eyes. “it wasn’t a mistake,”

“oh,” and you stop in your tracks, having no idea how to respond. an awkward pause follows as you bite your lower lip habitually before speaking, feigning a casual tone. “well, we can still put it behind—”

“i don’t want to,” he blurts out, cutting you off mid sentence. you notice how his voice is quiet as always, yet there’s panic and anxiousness behind those eyes. “i mean, i tried to, but it’s difficult. you’re always on my mind,”

there’s a silver of determination behind his voice. it’s surprising and equally anticipated. sometimes, he feels like he thinks of you every minute no matter what he’s doing. it was never this bad, these days even the regular banters between you two give him butterflies. and sunghoon understand that he might be far from your type in men. perhaps, you actually prefer someone like jay, who treat you to a fancy dinner to apologise, or maybe that guy from a few months ago who can’t remember the name of.

you and sunghoon can be polar opposites and he would still be standing here, fingers fidgeting nervously with the hem of his denim jacket, looking so uncharacteristically out of place. he would choose to have this talk again, as much as he hates confronting, because it never about who your type is and always about the fact that you’re sunghoon’s type— as he realises this when you tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear, looking at him with lips pressed together. you look cute, more so when you’re awkward, and he can’t believe he’s coming to terms with this but god, he is falling for you.

he is falling hard, and falling deep. it’s nothing like him, you make him nervous, almost as if knocking him out of air whenever your eyes meet, and he would gladly suffocate to death. it was quiet with too many questions hanging above his head, and he noticed the way you fiddle with your fingers with the cutest expression known to mankind and sunghoon knew he was screwed.

“i’ve got it so bad for you, yn, really,” —he speaks as if he’s out of breath due to the nervousness— “really bad. i tried to keep you out of here,” he said, pointing at his chest, cheeks flushing red as the words fell off his lips. “but you won’t go, you just won’t.”

and sunghoon has never been so…out of place, for the lack of better words. it’s amusing, even to you, the way he is right now. the sunghoon from three weeks ago wouldn’t even care but he, now, is pouring out all of himself, as if stripping him naked of his emotions and letting him see what lies behind the suave smiles and prideful words. as if showing you how easily you have him going crazy, right out of his mind and how he can’t help but just stare blankly as his eyes travel down to your lips occasionally— as they do now— and it leaves you in a frenzy when you notice it.

“i can’t stop thinking about that night— not in a weird way, just…” and you’re just standing in front of him, trying not to laugh at his antics. he’s cute, a pause, what the fuck. and then you just go along with it, knowing there’s no point denying it anymore now that you two are having this conversation.

you notice his little mannerisms, like how he can’t look in your eyes for the life in him, how he keeps shifting his weight from one leg to the other. it’s adorable, especially the way he can have all the attention in the room with just his mere presence. that’s sunghoon for you, with a presence so heavy it’s loud even when he’s silent. it’s so loud you can practically hear his mind, of all the words you know he wants to say but can’t. there’s a hitch in his breath, his eyes meet yours for the first time in the past few minutes— i like you— they say, and the next thing sunghoon knows is that you’re kissing him.

“i like you too,” you whisper against his lips after pulling back, your lips brushing against his. sunghoon feels like every single nerve in his body has been sparked, giving him goosebumps when you slowly intertwine your fingers with his.

of course, you know how he feels even before he could say it out loud. maybe, he just made it obvious for you to guess, otherwise sunghoon likes to think of himself as someone who can hide his feelings well. he lets go of your hands as soon as he feels you lace your fingers with his and instead, cups your cheeks ever so tenderly and leans down to capture your lips with his, smiling in the kiss. “i love you,”

˃ᗜ˂ : if you made it till here, i'm sending each one of u kisses >< thank u for reading, i hope u liked it. ps i had to put my heart aside and write jay's name ... never again will i put my man thru this huhu TT he's too good to do these things

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laiostouden · 3 days

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laios and shuro's relationship is so important to me it's not funny anymore... the fact shuro kept believing in laios during the latter part of the manga, then searched for him after laios became a monster and defeated the winged lion- although it was unclear what exactly had become of him- is haunting me because of how it contrasts with him choosing to give up on saving falin after he saw her as a chimera. like, laios was so sure that their fight in chapter 38 was the end of their friendship while in reality it was the beginning of it in shuro's eyes. laios kept agonizing over losing the one friend he cared for the most but it's because he didn't understand the significance of that little thing he kept carrying with him in every step until the very end of the series: the bell.

shuro gave him that bell as a token of his trust in him and his love: "we grew apart and i'm no longer fit for the position by your side, but no matter how far you go, i'll be there for you when you need me". their conflict over how to deal with falin forced them to go in different directions, but despite accepting leaving falin behind, shuro couldn't bring himself to abandon laios as well. and it's no coincidence that the bell shuro gave him was the proof that laios was still alive after all that happened, or that it's what pushed mithrun and kabru to go deeper into the dungeon instead of returning to the surface (which quite literally changed the entire chain of events afterwards).

yes, shuro decided to stop pursuing falin and report her condition to the governor so she could be stopped, even at the cost of her life. he gave up on her. but the same man also defied the canaries and fought for laios without knowing how messed up things had gotten because he chose to believe in laios above all else. and that, in my opinion, solidified just how important laios became to him- more than falin's, more than his own life, it's laios's he didn't give up on.

at the very end, when he met laios again after the latter defeated the winged lion, he gave him a hug filled with the pure, unrestrained joy of seeing his first and best friend on the island alive and well. hell, i mean, it's easy to forget that shuro didn't really have anyone close to him too- and laios might very well be the first person he was this disgustingly direct and truthful with since he was a child. and when he goes back home, there won't be anyone else like laios there; his home is still the same. it's him that changed. and later on when he will recall all those years he spent on the island, he will realize how surprising it is that all the crazy stuff he witnessed don't hold a candle to the impact those few people he befriended there had on him.

of course, laios didn't realize it until then- shuro's reaction was indeed the one that surprised him the most- but at that moment he could absolutely feel how foolish he was to be so sure he will be hated and rejected after everything they went through. it's so important that it was shuro who greeted him so affectionately, after we saw laios brooding over their fight so much: it's shuro's acceptance that he was longing for the most.

with all that being said, the one last thing that drives me crazy is that the bell laios was given to use when he needed assistance most was still with him even after turning back into his human form. that tiny item he was shown to be quite careless with and yet never let go of until he wanted to be completely alone, thinking he should run away from everyone he loved; but it was too late, his friend already heard his cry for help.

and they all answered.

#😃😭😭😭😭#dungeon meshi #laios touden #toshiro nakamoto

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erwinsvow · 15 hours

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omg omg I have a request, jealous!reader being “jealous” of bsf!rafe for bringing another girl over and taking her to his room, like reader was used to it but had enough because of her crush on him

yess omg this w/ jealous kook trio reader !! <3 shes a lil bitchy too hooray !

you think you'd had just about enough of this.

after months and months of being rafe's friend, you thought you were used to the seemingly endless flow of girls that constantly wandered in and out of tannyhill, the druthers, even his truck.

in fact, you'd never felt any specific type of way about it. rafe was your friend, and him hooking up with every girl on this side of the island used to be a couple of things—mostly gross, a little disturbing, sort of annoying. the girls he hooked up with were always clingers, and rafe sometimes would abandon plans with his friends to get laid.

which was completely normal. you wouldn't expect anything less from a guy like him—until you started to get mad about it.

you can't pinpoint when it happened, but somewhere in between the two back-to-back dates of yours rafe crashed, that one guy at the beach party who was happily chatting you up one moment and gone by the next, and a cute boy's number that had somehow been deleted off your phone, you started to get annoyed.

yes, rafe seemed to have some kind of problem with you dating. yes, he hadn't ever said as much. no, you didn't really have any proof proving your suspicions. but something was going on that you couldn't quite pinpoint, and then, before you knew it, something was going on with you.

when had it become so unbearable to watch rafe with one of his girls? you used to turn to kelce and top and make faces, pretend to hurl watching them in the distance. you used to cuss rafe out on the phone for ditching dinner or the movies or a sunset boat ride for some girl he just met. you used to think it was funny, not... painful.

so now, watching rafe chat up some girl when the boy you had just been flirting with was nowhere to be found, you can't understand why you feel like this.

like your throat is closing up watching rafe lean in to hear her better. like you want thunder to strike this girl so she gets away from him. like everything else in the world has just disappeared, with just you, your best friend, and your best friend's new girl remaining.

"are you fucking deaf?" kelce snaps at you, and you finally turn your head away from the pair.

"shut up," you snap right back. "i wasn't paying attention. what?"

"we gotta take this fucking bum home. you coming or not?" you turn, expecting a fully drunk topper laying on a couch or passed out on the floor somewhere. instead he turns to glare at kelce.

"you're a dick, you know that? no really, kelce-"

"why are you acting like there's a stick up your asses, huh? what's going on?"

"oh, i don't know," topper says sarcastically, and kelce joins in with a snicker. "maybe because we've been talking to you for a fucking hour and you've been ignoring us the entire time."

oh. you hadn't realized you'd been so oblivious.

"if you're that worried he's gonna go home with her, then why-"

"shut up!" you say again, with the words coming out loudly, in a rush. some heads turn to look at you. your friends laugh, but you can't join in. you huff out a breath, jaw clenched and perhaps a touch more angry than you'd thought you were. "why would i care if he went home with her?"

"i don't know and i'm way too drunk for this. you coming or not?" top says, though kelce stares at you much too knowingly.

you glance back—though you really shouldn't—watching rafe and the girl laughing at something together. anger trickles over your skin, seeping into your body all too quickly, making everything burn inside you. they start walking up the staircase together. you turn back before your head blows straight off.

"no. rafe said he's driving me home. so he's fucking driving me home."

kelce and topper laugh but you can't focus on that right now. you head up the stairs, though rafe and the girl are out of sight. you even catch sight of the boy you had been talking to earlier—and he turns and sprints in the other direction when you meet him eye.

even more angry, determined that rafe should get a taste of his own medicine tonight, you run up the stairs, pounding on closed doors and opening them up. you catch two couples that you really wish you hadn't before you finally get to the room that rafe is in.

of course he's in the master. prick.

it takes two slams with your fists and one attempt to shake the doorknob so hard you think it's gonna fall off for him to open up.

"what the fuck are you-" rafe stops the second he sees you. "kid, what the hell?"

you open your mouth, shoulders tense and face twisted in anger, ready to give him an earful when you look back, seeing the girl sitting on the bed and rafe with his hair a little messed up.

you're not just angry anymore. you're infuriated.

"sorry to interrupt," you say, looking at the girl waiting in the back. "you said you'd drive me home. i'm ready to go home."

"kid i'm a little busy here-"

"yeah? i was busy too. i was talking to a nice guy but after thirty seconds with you he won't even look at me anymore."

"that doesn't sound like-"

"well it is. he was gonna take me home, but you interfered. so it's your problem now."

"can you just-" interrupting rafe again, though you know you shouldn't, you butt back in to finish his sentence before he can.

"no, i'm not waiting five minutes so you can finish up."

"excuse me?" rafe makes a face like he can't believe what you just said.

you look back at the girl.

"sorry, sorry." rafe relaxes for a second. "two minutes."

he closes the door, and you hear him say something you can't really make out. a second later, he comes out and shuts the door behind him. grabbing your wrist, he leads you out of the house and back to his truck, and it's not until you're sitting in the passenger seat that he speaks again.

"you wanna tell me what the fuck that was about?"

#i reuse the same tropes and ideas everytime im so sorry haha #not proofread sorryyy #kook trio reader #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader

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hanniebaeee · 2 days

Text

Cherish

Husband Hyunjin x fem!reader

Warning: Smut MDNI

Genre: Fluff/Smut

Summary: Hyunjin doesn't understand what it's like for you - being a stay at home mum for your twin daughters. Until he does.

You get your babies ready as Hyunjin silently takes some bags to the car. You help your husband buckle them up in their car seats and he turns to you, looking miserable.

'Baby, all this over a silly argument?' He asked, making a sad face. 'Can't we just go together? It'll be a good chance for us to all spend time together.'

'Hyunjin.' You say, and he stops at the warning flashing in your tone. 'You know why we're doing this. You said I'm having such an easy time. So yeah, I just want you to have an easy time with your 2-year-old daughters. What's wrong with that?'

He sighed.

'I'm so sorry, jagiya.' He pleads. 'I was an idiot. I was stressed and angry. I just took it all out on you. It's not an excuse, I know. Please, how can I fix this?'

'By taking Mia and Ara on this trip. Spend time with them.' You said, voice stern.

'Promise me, if I do this we'll be ok. Promise me that.' He said, taking your hand and placing it against his chest.

His heart was racing. He was anxious.

'I need you to understand, Hyunjin.' You say. 'This is not a punishment, ok?'

He nods, kissing you hand and then pulling you closer to kiss your lips.

'I love you.' He said, his hold on you is tight.

You nod and feel your heart sink as you look at your girls.

'Say it. Say it back.' He said and you could hear how desperate he sounded. He was afraid that you'd be gone when he got back. He was afraid to lose you.

'I love you, Hyunjinnie.' You whisper and he stays still for a minute before removing himself from you forcefully and walking to the driver's seat. You take this time to kiss your babies and tell them to be nice to daddy.

Tears sting your eyes as you watch your husband drive away. Going back to the house, you sit and cry. You couldn't help but think that you were being a bit unreasonable with him. This was all over a stupid fight that happened when his parents were over.

It was understandable that he was exhausted after a day full of practice and things, but it gave him no right to call you lazy and 'lucky to be at home all day'. You had never seen his mum so mad before. She snapped and scolded him in Korean - you were still at the basics, so you didn't really understand what she was saying. But her tone suggested the content quite well.

Hyunjin was in tears and he walked away, skipping dinner and you felt terrible for the entire thing.

His mum called you a while after he left to see if everything was ok.

'I still feel like this was a mistake.' You say sadly. 'I mean, I know that he didn't mean what he said.'

'He needs to understand what you do for him and babies, Y/N. Sweetheart, you spend the entire day home with your kids. You don't get a break at all. You don't complain so he doesn't know how you feel. I know this will be a good opportunity for him to learn what it's like to take care of two little children all on his own. You'll thank me for this. Ok? Now, stop brooding and go spend time with your friends. You deserve this break.' His mum said.

You speak for some more time before you hang up and decide to call your best friend, Jisoo. You plan things for the weekend and though you miss Hyunjin and the girls, you have a good time with Jisoo. You realize how much you have missed this.

Hyunjin sent you pictures of them playing and having a good time at the cute Airbnb they had rented next to a woodland. He seemed to be doing ok, and you were glad. What you didn't know was that Hyunjin was a tearful mess - he had no idea what he was doing even though you had given him instructions for literally everything. The babies were a handful and he felt so ashamed of himself for the way he spoke to you.

It was around 10:45 pm when you decided to go to bed. You had showered and done your bedtime routines before finally settling down under the duvet. It was raining heavily and you were a bit worried about Hyunjin's long drive back home the next morning. He was planning to start early in the morning, but if it continued to rain, he would have to wait it out before driving.

You tried to push these thoughts out of your mind and concentrate on your book when you heard your doorbell. You wondered who it could be this late and in this weather. Just then, your phone rang. You saw Hyunjin's name on the screen and quickly pick up.

'Hey, baby, open the door.' He said and you could hear his fast breaths.

'You're here? In this weather?!' You ask, running to get the door.

You yank the door open only to see him, drenched and shivering.

'Oh my God! What happened?! Where are the girls?!' You ask, looking behind him and then back at him, worried.

He stepped in quickly and closed the door behind you.

'Hyunjin! What's going on?' You ask, way too afraid now.

'Y/N, I dropped them off with my mum.' He said, taking off his wet jacket and dropping it on the floor. Water dripped from this long hair, and some drops slid down is face and neck. He takes his shoes off next and then his socks and leaves them on the side as well.

'Oh?' You said, and nod. 'Ok... but why?'

'I... I just wanted to be with you.' He said softly. 'Alone.'

You nod again, cheeks warming up and heartbeat picking up the pace. It's been a while since you felt this way. He kept looking at you, now running a hand over his face to wipe away some of the moisture.

'You should change. You'll catch a cold or some-' Hyunjin just stepped forward and pressed his lips to yours. Arms around you, he kissed you nice and deep. His tongue slipped into your mouth, and he moaned softly, tilting his head for a better angle.

You pulled back to breathe and he just looked at you with so much love, you felt really - nice.

'Is everything ok?' You ask and he nods. Then he scoops you up in arms, one hand around your waist and the other under your knees. You arms go around his neck and you squeal in surprise.

'Hyunjin!' You say, giving him a wide eyed look. He just smiles and starts climbing the stairs, up to your bedroom. Once there, he places you slowly to the edge of the bed and kneels down in front of you.

'I'm so sorry, jagiya.' He says, sadly. 'I'm so sorry for being an asshole and saying all those things to you.'

'It's alright Jinnie.' You say, cupping his face with your hands. 'I'm not mad.'

'You should be, though. I'm so ashamed of myself. I mean, I can't believe it didn't occur to me the kind of effort you put into our family every single day. Mia and Ara, they're amazing and it's because of you.'

'Baby, we're both good parents.' You try to reason with him.

But he shakes his head and says, 'I didn't teach them to brush their teeth or put on their shoes or eat on their own. You did. All alone. Damn, they can identify all the dinosaurs. I don't think I can pronounce one name right. How did you do all that? These two days - all I could think of was how proud I am of you. I'm so damn proud to say you're mine and of everything you've done for the babies.'

'I also realized how hard it is to look after two toddlers. They drove me up the wall in less than two hours since we reached the cottage. I mean, I don't even know how you do it. I don't know how.' He continued with a smile.

You realize you were crying only when Hyunjin reaches out and wipes the tears off your cheeks. 'I love you so much and I promise I'll never disrespect you ever again. If I do, I want you to divorce me. 'Coz seriously-'

'I'm not going to divorce you, Hyunjin.' You said with a laugh. 'I love you way too much for that.'

'I love you way too much too.' Hyunjin said, and ran his fingers through his damp hair.

You get up from the bed to get a towel and dry his hair. He sat with his head on your lap as you did so. Once done, he stood up and started stripping. You sat still, blushing and unable to look at him as discarded his clothes and stepped closer to you.

'You know what else I realized?' He asked, moving you to the middle of the bed.

'What?' You ask.

He hovers over you, and says, 'That you're so fucking hot. You carried my babies inside you. You brought them into this world. And you're doing such a good job being their mum and being my... everything. I don't think I would still be doing what I love if it weren't for you, taking a step back for us all.'

And you realize how much you've been craving his appreciation. You sob as he says sweet things to you and then he's on top of you, kissing you like he's never had a chance to do so before. His hands brush along your thighs and he lifts your night dress up and over your head, tossing it aside. He kisses your neck and collarbone, while he discards all of your clothes.

He takes his time with you, worshiping your body and pleasuring you with his mouth and fingers before finally you've had enough and told him that you wanted him.

He didn't need to be told more than once and he was in you, in the blink of an eye. Soft words of love and sounds of passion filled the room. You whined as he picked up pace, going a bit faster, his own body nearing it's high. He kissed you over and over again, and finally you came - shaking and gripping on to him tightly. You were clearly overstimulated and you shiver as he goes faster, chasing his own orgasm.

He pressed his face to your neck as he came, his soft groan giving you goosebumps.

'Oh my god, I missed you so much. I missed us.' He mumbled, nuzzling into the crook of your neck.

'I missed you too Jinnie' you whisper, turning your face to kiss him again.

You both stay tangled in each other and the sheets for a while before showering together and going to sleep.

Your side of the bed was empty when Hyunjin opened his eyes. With a whine, he got up and pulled on a pair of sweatpants before walking downstairs to the kitchen. He could hear your voice and you were laughing at something. His eyes are barely open as he steps into the kitchen and sees you standing by the hob, cooking. There is a glow on your face and he smiles seeing it.

He comes behind you and gives you a back hug, kissing you neck lovingly.

'Hyunjin!' You hiss, trying to step away and that's when he heard a little voice saying, 'Dada!'

He jumps back and turns around to see his mum looking at him with the most bored expression on her face.

'Oh my God! What are you doing here?!' He asked, trying to cover his bare chest.

'I brought the kids home.' She said pointing at the said kids.

'I thought I said we'll let you know the time?' He said, blushing.

'Hyunjin, don't be rude!' You say, slapping his hand.

'Their mum called and wanted them back. What am I to say?' His mum said with a shrug. 'So I brought them in, even though she said she'd come and get them. Now, please go wear a shirt.'

Hyunjin just huffs in annoyance before walking out of the room.

'I'm so sorry for that.' You say, hoping you weren't blushing too much.

The older woman just smiled at you.

'I just want to see you both happy.' She said. 'I told you it'll work.'

And she looked so smug, you had to laugh. Hyunjin came back with a shirt on and saw you both laughing.

'What's so funny?' He asked and his mum said, 'Mind your own business, boy.'

'That's not very nice.' Hyunjin said, going and picking up his daughters - one in each hand. But he was genuinely so happy to see all his girls happy and smiling.

Especially, you.

a/n: Hyunjin's mum is the star of the show. Ok bye.

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jyuansgf · 2 days

Text

nsfw content ahead. minors dni.

– how would they react if you ask them to be rough on you as much as they possibly can during sex? with jing yuan, gepard, argenti. + aftercare. cw: rough fucking, overstim, fingering. a bit of fluff on the aftercare. not proofread.

notes: thanks to my friend for terrorising me into doing this /j ^___^ jokes aside, i had fun writing this!! i didn't want to make this too long so i tried my best.. also my rules, tags everything about my blog is up on my pinned. make sure to read them byf please!! if this one actually gets attention more than i intended it to be, i'll make a part two and a genshin one ;___;

jing yuan —

i think jing yuan wouldn’t react any differently when you ask him to be rough on you. jing yuan has always been gentle with you ever since you two started dating—jing yuan can be either a gentleman in bed or.. just fuck your brains out? he’s actually anything you can ask for. he prioritises your pleasure and your comfort more than anything else. you want him to fuck you senseless? sure, you want some intense fucking? go for it, you want some gentle fucking as he whispers some sweet praises right next to your ear? or maybe both—he’s just the perfect man for anything. if you want him to bury your head on the pillows as he pulls on your hair and pounds you from behind, he’ll do it, only if you want him to. although he can’t deny the fact that he likes to see you fall apart on his cock, fucking you rough as possible while his fingers are buried deep inside you. as long as he can make you cum before he does, he’s happy.

after care with jing yuan is one of the things that you two can always look forward to after having your brains fucked out—and trust me, that isn’t the only thing he’s good at. if he’s that good in bed, he’s definitely more than that when it’s after care. first thing he would ask you if there’s anything that hurts or did he go too far on you, he would even prepare a bath for the both of you (no fucking again, he says) and prepare some sweets or your comfort food after your intimate moment with him. ask him to give you a massage or tell you a random story about his childhood then he shall deliver! or if you just want to lay down on bed, he’ll make sure to clean you up if you fall asleep. he just wants the best for you, and he would be willing to give you more. make sure to thank him, the only thing he’ll ask for you is your love and embrace that he can always come home to.

gepard —

i think he would be a bit taken aback by your request, not that he doesn’t want to do it but he’s got some hesitation in him if he can go that far for you. he would be the type to ask you to show him how you want this to happen or set any boundaries, he thinks you’re someone who should be deeply taken care of in bed and he didn’t even think of this doing this with you at all, he does not want to hurt you. but he’s definitely willing to give it to you if you explain to him that this is not going to hurt you in the least.. it is your request after all. rough sex with gepard would definitely start with lots of foreplay, he’ll hesitate but once he gets the hang of it soon enough you’ll also be fucked dumb on the sheets, and he thinks that awakened something in him.. he doesn’t know that you’re the type to like this nor himself. he would often ask you if you can still take more or if you want him to stop, all his pent up frustrations or stress as a captain of belobog guards will all be poured into you that’ll leave you like a panting mess under him. don’t get him wrong though, he prioritises your release more than his, but forgive him if he accidentally cums inside you again and again.. poor guy can’t help himself at all.

after care with gepard would be a 50/50 situation for the both of you, give him time to recollect himself after because he thinks he’s not able to recover after that.. because of how good it felt. he’ll shower you with kisses and praises immediately after and would ask you questions if he did good or if it’s what you asked for. if you assure him that he did not hurt you at all, that’s the only thing he needs to hear. stay for a little chat with him in bed as you both calm down from it, he would start preparing a bath for you two as he changes the bedsheets, a little subtle kisses before going to sleep is how you two would end the night. he would really do anything for you, if you wanted him to. totally thinks he would be up to doing it again some other time. don’t tease him about it though. he’ll blush a bit if you knew how much he liked it, just a bit, he says.

argenti —

one of the best gentlemen out there, who just aims to make you feel good no matter what. just like jing yuan, i don’t think he’ll mind it. as for someone who just wants to worship your precious body. but of course he would ask you first if you’re sure about doing it, and if you give him a sign that it’s okay, he doesn’t even hesitate on doing so. he’ll be the type to go slow on you at first, tease you until you’re ready to take him inside your warm cunny. then, the next moment you knew, he’s fucking you in such vigorous pace, would make you suck on his fingers as his lips traces over your body, and if he takes you from behind–he would even wrap his hands around your neck just to take a good look at your pretty messy face, he’ll still kiss your tears away even though he’s ramming inside your sopping wet pussy, he’ll switch by using his fingers, cock or his mouth just to overstimulate you. degrading words would definitely come out of his mouth but he does it in his own unique way (if you know, you know). he will definitely tease you but worry not, you don’t even remember how many times he had made you cum already.

aftercare with argenti? my love, you’re in for a treat. i’m sure we all know this man praises everything he sees, but when it comes to you as if he doesn’t run out of words. your afterglow with him would be definitely something, immediately would cradle you in his arm after making your legs tremble from overstimulation, he would press kisses all over your body and not a single spot would be missed. he would even press a chaste kiss on your clit after he cleaned you up, telling you were such a good girl for taking him or any words of praise that he could think of. the bath was already set up even before the two of you started, some bath bombs, scented candles, and petals scattered all over the floor. he’ll bring you some water or any snacks you prefer as he helps you clean up and after the two of you settles in bed, it would always ends with giggles and topics that the both of you share.. and of course, he doesn’t forget to praise you all over again, may he forgive you for falling asleep as he talks about how your body makes him feel good and how ethereal you are. it’s his way of making you fall asleep after all.

#jing yuan smut #gepard smut #argenti smut #hsr smut #hsr x reader #hsr imagines #honkai star rail smut #honkai star rail x reader #jing yuan x you #gepard x you #argenti x you #honkai star rail drabbles #hien writes ୨୧

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ohnopeh · 2 days

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i love the idea that ian finally understands he had been making mickey believe he wasn't loved enough for not singing the paper.

he goes to mickey showing a ring and mickey is hopeful but also wary of what is happening, then ian says it

i love ian, but darling, you can be a bit dumb (its okay you are learning)

what could have mickey possibly thought? that ian will marry him cause gallagher keep their promises? that's all to it? is it not because he supposedly loves him and genuinely wants that?

the look on mickey's face as he realises what ian said makes me think that it was the moment mickey fears were ''confirmed''. ian didn't love him enough, of course he wouldn't, why would he? ian bought the promise ring, yes, but he still wouldn't wear it but hang it on his neck where he can hide it, is mickey not it? and then mickey says it

he realises mickey had been thinking ian didn’t love him and that’s it, he tried many times. by coming out, being there during the whole diagnosis, being broken up with but still thinking of him and hoping to be together, thinking he will be with him in mexico and then getting himself back to prison so that he can be with him, support him through all that. but that was it. he didn't have it in him to fight for them anymore, he had the rights to finally put himself first and say ''that's enough''. ‘you don’t love me enough now, and that’s fine, it’s cool.’

but ian fucked up. he now knows that mickey believed he wasn't enough, he wasn't the right one for ian.

it didn't even cross his mind that it could have been a possibility, cause since the diagnosis, ian had been so sure that he wasn't worth of mickey and the pain that comes by being around him, loving him.

so ian thinks : how can you ever be so sure you love me? how can you even possibly be in love with me when i have such disorder that won't make it easy for you? what do you even see in me to think i'm worth all of that?

the only explaination ian can think of for someone like mickey to fight so hard for their relationship to work is that : he's either crazy or he never experienced any other type of relationship before.

cause ian has, ian has dated other people after mickey and none of them loved him. one cheated on him, gaslighting him that it was okay cause it was a chick and not a guy. the other made it a challange for ian to be attracted to him, didn't respect ian when it came to his trauma regarding monica, didn't really care about ian being off his meds, being more concerned that his mania was making him the star of the news and not what trevor really wanted. mickey had never done that, mickey had always been there for ian and he knows that— he knows that mickey is the one he loves and the one that will do anything for him. he broke up with him because he loved mickey too much and wanted him to be free.

being with those people made it impossible for ian to even pretend that mickey wasn't the one he loved and that loved him back.

but mickey? he never had a relationship other than the one with ian, so how could he know that ian is the one if he never dated anyone else? someone ‘normal’, someone that wouldn’t make him worry and watch for his mood swings?

ian is telling mickey that he has a choice to do better— he’s telling him that out there, there’s someone that won’t hurt him, that won’t make mickey think they’re not in love enough to take the big step with him. cause ian knows mickey is everything— but how could mickey know that ian is that for him too?

i love how mickey’s expression changes as ian speaks. it's the moment it hits him that ian loves mickey enough, he loves him too much so that he questions himself just as much, deciding for both of them (once again) what mickey needs and who he shouldn't be with.

and i love that mickey finally understands everything, he understands why ian broke up with him in s5 and tried to move on and pretend mickey wasn’t what he wanted. mickey's first reaction is just to shake his head and say ''jesus christ, ian.''

and ian looks so confused, he might be thinking : what did i say wrong? i know i am right, you know that this is true. i'm a problem, i'm not worth it, can't you see? but that's mickey’s limit, it was ian’s moment to work on his not worthy of your love shit and realise that it’s all bullshit cause mickey is all in for them. he always has been no matter what.

and mickey knows so well that he can't do anything else to prove it to ian. he straight up tells him the answer to lip's ''figure out why you don't wanna marry him.'' 'cause he doesn't believe he's worth it. but mickey has proved him enough, mickey has told him what's ian true fear is and its not mickey's love for him that will fix it. it was ian's job to work through with it (and he did!! of course he did) back when this episode came out, i was so angry and frustrated about it, i guess growing up makes you see things differently uh?

#i legit can't shut up about shit #all i do is rewatch their scenes #draw them #read fanfics that make me think of their canon interactions #so that i end up thinking about those #and just brainstorm things #also tumblr why can i only share 10 pics thats not fair #i want to share every screenshots ever of their scenes #also noel fisher you act with your eyes i love you #ian gallagher #mickey milkovich #gallavich #shameless #shameless us

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loumandiel · 3 days

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I'm getting tired of hearing the sentiment that Louis doesn't care about Armand's trauma or have any sympathy for him. In the museum scene his expressions and body language were almost exactly similar to the scenes where Claudia and Lestat talk about their respective assaults. And in all these scenes he's mostly quiet. So does it mean Louis doesn't care about Claudia's or Lestat's traumas either? Of course not. It's just how he outwardly reacts in situations like this. He tends to shut down and doesn't know how to express his empathy and distress. Dreamstat represents Louis' hidden thoughts, but at the museum he's actually next to Louis listening quietly for the most of the scene. It's only at the end when Armand compares Marius, Magnus and Lestat to each other that dreamstat reacts angrily. And it's not mocking what happened to Armand, it's a manifestation of Louis' discomfort, him fearing that he's being manipulated and being uncomfortable that Lestat is brought up and that his relationship with Lestat is compared to Armand and Lestat's disturbing relationships with their own makers.

What Louis says to Armand in San Francisco is incredibly cruel, probably the cruelest things he has ever said. He's on drugs and extremely upset and intentionally trying come up with the most hurtful words he can think of, they both are. He very obviously deeply regrets it later. When he wakes up after the sun scene and remembers what he did and what kind of things he said before it he's ashamed and distressed. He's crying (though partially because of pain) and immediately tries to apologize to Armand and reach out for him. He's not angry when Armand leaves him in pain, probably thinking that he deserves it. When Armand later says "after what you put me through here i deserve this" Louis agrees. That's not someone who doesn't care or have empathy.

As often with Louis, i think the things he says to Armand are as much about Louis himself as they're about Armand. He sees himself in Daniel, and his entire speech to Claudia in 2.01 is directed also at himself, and he's projecting his own self-hatred and insecurities onto Armand. Louis fears that he is boring and dull. His husband repeatedly cheated on him and laughed in his face when Louis asked isn't he enough. During his depression years Lestat complained about Louis just reading and not leaving the house and how he was drawing Lestat into his gloom. He felt his sister-daughter was more interested in the theater and the coven than spending time with him. The coven mocked him and his passions and didn't find him that interesting after he stopped being a novelty. He was told that he didn't have much artistic talent. In the 70s his life seems to be repetitive and meaningless.

Louis subconsciously detests the qualities he recognizes in Armand that he recognizes and detests in himself - including being a victim. The interview was interrupted when Daniel criticized Louis for going back to Lestat and for his passivity and suicidal ideation. When he's fighting with Armand that all is on his mind. What he says about Armand's "daddy vampire grooming him into a little bitch" actually brings to my mind such scenes as how he derisively said in the second interview that he had become an unhappy housewife living with Lestat, and how dreamstat called him a "little whore". The shame of having experienced abuse and all the feelings of emasculation and degradation that came with it has never left him. Even in the second interview Louis firmly says to Daniel that he doesn't consider himself abused and that he isn't a victim. I don't think Louis consciously thinks that being abused makes someone a bad or weak person, but on some subconsious level he probably feels like that - at least if it's about himself. Again, in this same episode we see Louis acting like he deserves how Armand treats him after their fight and his suicide attempt

#iwtvposting #iwtv spoilers #abuse tw #iwtv #it's late i don't know did i write this coherently at all

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pluckyredhead · 3 days

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Please ship Orion and Lightray with me, thank you

If you've been reading my Fourth World posting, you might have noticed me mentioning Orion and Lightray's relationship. This is because they're in love and I'm obsessed with them. Please join me in grumpy/sunshine-but-they're-alien-demigods hell, with visual references below.

So Orion, as we know, is the son of Darkseid who was raised on New Genesis but has always felt different and monstrous compared to his peers. Lightray is his best friend, who thinks Orion is just the best thing since sliced bread and says so constantly.

This is literally how we're introduced to them, in New Gods #1:

Lightray: Don't be sad. Hug time! Orion: Hugs are not for one such as me. But you're still my best friend. Lightray: Please let me enter your chambers. Orion: NO THEY ARE TOO DARK. Lightray: D:

This panel, from #6, sums up their whole dynamic really well:

Lightray doesn't crave battle the way Orion does but he is determined to stay by his side, while Orion doesn't want Lightray to fight beside him because he thinks Lightray is too good and pure to be tainted by violence.

Zero personal space.

So one of the things about Orion is that his real face is sort of brutish and not traditionally handsome (the eyebrows are WILD), but he uses his Mother Box (like a living pocket computer that loves you) to make himself look more like the people of New Genesis. In #8, he gets into a knock-down, drag-out fight with his half-brother Kalibak that nearly kills them both, and Mother Box can't maintain the illusion (and also his face is, like, pulverized). And then this happens:

I WEEP. LIGHTRAY LOVES YOU JUST THE WAY YOU ARE, ORION.

New Gods was canceled soon after this, but when Kirby returned a decade later, he went all in on the homoerotic devotion. So Orion goes to Apokolips to kill his dad and rescue his mom, and who do you think follows him?

That second panel makes me laugh so hard. "Here, honey, you forgot your Scooty Puff Jr!"

My favorite thing about this is that Lightray is playing dumb. He shot at Orion earlier and then said something vague about missing on purpose...but he didn't:

HE REALLY TRIED TO WOUND ORION ENOUGH TO STOP HIS SUICIDE MISSION. And the way he just shuts his eyes and takes Orion's anger because he doesn't care what happens as long as he saves his friend's life...! (Orion doesn't hurt him, they just touch each other a lot.)

Anyway they argue for multiple pages, with Orion insisting that Lightray go home and Lightray insisting that he stay, until finally:

This is so intensely romantic and also so unintentionally hilarious that I can't stand it. The homoerotic gazing into one another's eyes and then the stupid mutual thumbs up! Whatever is going on with that closeup of Orion in the second panel! I die!

...And you know who else dies? Orion! Or at least he comes very close (it's unclear), but is rescued by a freedom fighter named Himon and nursed back to health by Himon and his daughter Bekka. We get a little romance between Orion and Bekka, but we also get Lightray coming to visit:

That is some FULL CONTACT wrestling, boys. Orion pinning Lightray to the ground while telling him it's good to see him is so much, but the fourth panel is even mucher. My goodness.

And then things get serious, because they both believe they are going to die in the upcoming battle (they don't), so they bid each other farewell and Lightray leaves, and then:

Orion yells after Lightray how smart and funny he is and then collapses in despair because his friend is gone. "HOW LIKE A WANDERING STAR HE SEEMS." Oh my god, Orion.

That's it for Kirby, so I'll move on to other writers and artists, but I want to clear that I'm only sharing the most intense scenes between them. There are so many panels, from Kirby and others, of Lightray faithfully following Orion around, joyously welcoming him back to New Genesis, gently teasing him, and talking about how brave and noble he is. And of Orion only smiling for Lightray, going feral when he gets hurt, and telling him he's too good and pretty for battle. And of the two of them touching each other. A lot.

Literally just two random examples. THEY DO THIS SHIT ALL THE TIME.

The next really big moment comes in New Gods (1995), where the Source (basically God/Heaven) becomes corrupted and Lightray goes evil and Orion has to beat him up to stop him and I will never ever ever recover from these pages:

"You want the beast? Do you like it?" on its own is...hoo boy, SOMETHING. But it is eclipsed by the tremulous "Maybe...maybe if I can just hold him" and Orion gathering Lightray up in his arms while telling him he loves him. LIKE. THIS IS SO MUCH. (P.S. Lightray's fine don't worry. And yes, he does want the beast.)

Then we get to Orion (PLEASE read this comic) and the biggest smile Orion has ever smolt:

Look at how happy he is!!! You need to understand that his mother died in his arms ten minutes ago and he's still like "Lightray! Omg hi!!!" (To be fair, his mother was terrible.) Plus bonus unnecessary touching, Lightray's love language being gifts, and Orion giggling and twirling his hair while going "Omg you're so smart."

(Also, when Lightray mentions his "brief but troubling visit" to Apokolips in the second panel, what's not saying is that he put on a silly disguise and went to see a fortuneteller to try to figure out if Orion's mom was lying about Darkseid not being his real dad (she was; again, she was terrible), and when the fortuneteller is like "You DARE come to Apokolips?!" he goes "I would dare anything for my friend!" I know you would, honey. I know you would.)

The next bit requires some explanation. So, as briefly as possible: Orion kills Darkseid (or so he thinks), takes over Apokolips, and tries very hard to change it for the better. He also accidentally gains possession of the Anti-Life Equation, the formula Darkseid is always searching for that eradicates free will, and gradually is driven to use it to FORCE everyone on Apokolips to be good. And Earth. And New Genesis.

Eventually, Orion is seemingly killed, but actually he's been teleported somewhere unfathomably far away, where he realizes what he's done and sinks into suicidal despair. In the midst of this, he manages to both destroy the Anti-Life Equation AND save all of reality (and nearly die in the process), but he still thinks that because he used the Equation, he's irredeemable and doesn't deserve to exist.

So when he's teleported back to Earth and captured by a human who blinds him and rigs him up to a torture device so that he can drain Orion's life force and use it to be eternally youthful, Orion just...lets it happen. Because he thinks he deserves it. For SEVEN MONTHS.

But eventually he's like "Wait...I deserve this, but probably whatever is being done with my energy is not good and I should stop it." He tries to escape but only manages to let out a single scream.

Luckily, Lightray has been searching for him nonstop for those seven months, despite the face that Orion is supposed to be dead. And then we get this:

To be clear: this is sweet, gentle Lightray absolutely obliterating the men who kept Orion in the torture device.

Nakey.

Lightray gives Orion the crushed remnants of his wrist cuffs, and Orion does a magical girl transformation about it:

For everyone playing along at home, that's the second time Orion has canonically told Lightray that he loves him.

Anyway, Orion goes off to get revenge on the guy who did this to him (it's very satisfying, please read Orion), and then he's depressed some more until he has some brotherly bonding time with Scott and finally feels well enough to go back to New Genesis. His last line of dialogue in the series is "For it is late, and the sunrise and friend Lightray await us in the gleaming city of the gods." OKAY!

Tragically, almost every New Gods appearance after this is complete dogshit, although there is a great moment in Hal Jordan and the Green Lantern Corps (a Rebirth series) where they need information from Orion but he's comatose so they bring in a telepath and the only word he can get out of Orion's mind is "Lightray." I'LL BET.

IN CONCLUSION: Orion and Lightray love each other so so much and I believe it is honoring Jack Kirby's legacy to think about them smooching. It's what the King would have wanted!

#orion #lightray #lightrion #fourth world #meta

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simpee9000 · 2 days

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We're Not Just Friends - Prologue -

Based off this blurb + Fem Reader : Not edited

Katsuki was and always will be yours. And you to him. A bond formed over many-many years together. Katsuki Bakugo, a fast-rising hero and fast-learning guy who is ever so slow in getting attached to and loving someone. Even three long years into a relationship, your friends forget you're even dating. The first year of high school was when anything started, but the two of you didn't start dating until the second year. The first year of your relationship had no.. advancement in any field or anyway, but that can be blamed on how much was truly happening in the second year of high school. Third year of high school, you two didn't do anything either, with your busy schedules, trying to graduate top of your class and get into a good company. But now graduated and living together, and you guys have done absolutely nothing spare a few kisses. Are you sure you're not just friends? CW: Smut, brief domestic violence discussion, virginity loss, gore with pro hero stuff (lmk if i missed any) (this is just a prologue, all chapters will have a different writing style)

Bakugo, or to you, Katsuki has been a huge figure in your life. Probably the biggest motivator as well. There since you were young and immature, running around in random neon clothes your mom let you wear after your 4-year-old self argued with her for half an hour.

You were the third addition to Katsuki and Izuku's friendship. Butting in on their rivalry often. Defending Izuku while shooting Katsuki a nasty glare. Helping Izuku with his bruises but also helping Katsuki with his, if he ever got any. You stuck to either boy's side, depending on who you saw first. Which, more often than not, was Katsuki. But you left his side whenever he picked on Izuku. Helping Izuku's muddy self get out of the river before considering Katsuki.

That was in elementary school though, in junior high you stayed a balanced friend between the two. Stopping fights between the two boys, scolding the blonde boy every time. Yet you helped him clean up any time he picked a fight with anyone else. Wrapping up his bloody knuckles any time he needed, either from too much training or him being an asshole. You look back fondly on those times. Any time you so much as touched him, he sparked up, hands shooting out small explosions as he blushed. He felt bad obviously, but he was a preteen going through puberty and a pretty girl was touching him, what did you expect? He grimaced at every 'ow' that left your lips after he sparked up with your hand caring in his. He grew into his quirk and his control. So once the first year of high school hit, he was okay with small touches from you.

Thinking back on it, it was surprising he was okay with you, quirk-wise. He always gave Izuku hell for it, but never you. Maybe it's because you didn't have the drive to be a hero, wanting to stick to doing the sideline work of being a support tech. You weren't quirkless, but until the first year of junior high, you thought you were. Not having a flashy quirk or even a showing quirk at all. Only finding out because you've always aced every test and had an incredible academic ability. After a few too many recommendations of sped-up courses, did your parents take you to the doctor. Seeing that you did in fact have a quirk. Hyper-intelligence. You were basically a genius with an insanely good memory. It was an odd mutation of your parent's quirks. Your mom was able to remember everything she read and your dad was able to see the composition of anything he saw.

So along with Katsuki and Izuku, you strived to go to UA. Wanting to be in their support course, having strive to be a huge support tech in the future. Hopefully with your own company. You were well on that path as well.

You were there for that god-awful attack Katsuki dealt with in middle school. Seeing him covered in the sludge monster, gasping for air, haunted your dreams. You were walking with him after all. Watched the sludge climb up his body as you frantically tried to pry it off, your hands just slipping through the muck. Being pushed away once Katsuki started to cough violently. He didn't want you anywhere near what was happening. Looking wide-eyed at you before coughing for you to get help. So reluctantly, you did. Looking back at the blonde as he was submerged before you bolted for help, screaming for it down every walkway.

Only to come back to watch your other best friend running in to try and help. Screaming his name as well as you ran to get to them. Being pushed back by the wind All Might made when he came to help. Falling on your back as you watched, with tears in your eyes, Katsuki being freed from the sludge, gasping for any air he could. A hero lifted you up and held you from running to your friends, despite your frantic yelling for the boys. When they were cleared from the medics, you were allowed to see them. Instantly hugging Katsuki while yelling at Izuku over his shoulder, telling him he was stupid to run in without a quirk. Even though you were about to do the same. Katsuki rubbed off on you in that way. Yelling at others all while knowing you'd do the same.

By all means, you knew that wasn't going to be the last time you saw the boys in danger. Especially after Izuku got a quirk just in time for the UA testing. You weren't worried about the exam portion, the three of you studied together for that after all. Well, you studied with both of them, but they never studied with each other. Your test had an additional few tests but you passed them with ease. Just like how you knew Katsuki would pass his. You were worried for Izuku and his trial, which you were right to be, he broke both his arms with only one shot of his quirk. And after all that, it was still unlikely he'd get in. When you did get the letter of acceptance, you were with Katsuki, Izuku told you to go with Katsuki as he would probably not get in and he wants to be with his mom. Katsuki and you yelled and jumped around his room in excitement at the bold lettering of 'acceptance,' well you were jumping, he was being cocky and acting unaffected about it. Izuku called you only minutes after to let you know he got in as well. Katsuki rolled his eyes as he heard the news. Complaining once you hung up about how he didn't know how a nobody like him got in.

Getting into UA started everything for you. You got an insanely good internship after the sports festival. You followed Mei's lead, with Katsuki's and Izuku's advice, and showed off a suit similar to the American hero, 'Iron Man' just with your own flare and adjustments. Getting scouted for Endeavor's hero agency's personal tech crew. Following under the head of their tech.

With being in UA you got some insider information about what the hero course was doing. Making the hero outfit of both Katsuki and Izuku and doing any upgrades they needed. Eventually doing their friend's suits as well. Insider information wasn't enough, unfortunately. You were aware that the hero course went to the forest for training but you only knew Katsuki was taken when you met up with a beaten-up Izuku in a hospital bed. Having got a frantic call from Kirishima the second they got phone service. Him telling you to meet at this hospital because Izuku was in bad shape due to a villain attack.

You were involved in the rescue plan for Katsuki. Bring stealth equipment for a disguise. You weren't able to get anything else due to the time frame but you were there and it was successful. Holding your hand out alongside Kirishima for Katsuki to grab. You were also there for the fall of All Might, and consequently the fall of the boys beside you. Katsuki having his lip quiver as Izuku stood in shock.

Since you were there, and the villains saw your face and technique, you were invited to the dorms as well. They were supposed to be only for the hero course but they made changes. You dormed with the Class A girls.

You saw the boys leave that one night, deciding to stay in bed and let them hash it out. They should be grown enough at this point to not kill each other. Regretting that decision when you saw how beaten and bruised both the boys were the next day.

Their Provisional license exam was at the same time as yours. Yours being a test of how effective your gear is and if it's safe enough for the public heroes. Coming back to the dorms to see a happy Izuku and a distraught Katsuki. You spent that night in his dorm room, helping him prepare for the extra course he now had to take.

Being within the top best-performing techs within UA, you were recruited to help with the War. Making sure everyone had good and up-to-date equipment, giving extra support items, but also being within the team itself. They needed any help they could get and you had a suit good for fighting. Aizawa asked you himself. He knew his two best boys trained you enough to know how to defend yourself. So you were in the evacuation crew. Only parting from that when you saw the boys running in the direction of mass destruction.

You stood by Aizawa's side as you saw your best friends get pummeled within an inch of life. You stood there, holding Aizawa up as you watched Katsuki take three stabs in the chest for Izuku. Leaving the teacher's side instantly, running up to the limp and bloody body that was Katsuki. Hands searching his body to try and stop the blood. Bloody hands ripping his hero suit to push it into his wounds. Crying for him to stay awake. When his eyes were fluttering shut you placed your bloody hands on his face, trying to ground him as you shook his face. Bringing a hand up to slap him awake. His eyes shooting open to look at you. Iida eventually pulled you off him, helping Katsuki stand, and dragged him off the battlefield.

You had to bite your lip to hold in a yell when you saw Katsuki go back into the fight. The bloody handprints you left still on his face.

The hospital trip was a rough one as well. Waited the miserable hours for either of your best friends to wake. When one was being examined you went to the other. Constantly checking on both. Luckily, the moment Katsuki woke up, you were just coming back from grabbing a drink and some snacks.

Katsuki snapped his eyes open when he heard the door open, body jolting to sit up. You dropped your food, pushing Katsuki back into bed with a hug. He was mainly confused. He remembers the fight but he didn't expect you to be here. He wrapped his IV-ridden arm around you, hugging as tight as his ribs allowed. After all, he was extremely worried about you going into the battlefield. You didn't have nearly enough training. When he finally passed out from the pain his last worry was if you'd be alive when he woke up.

His brain was foggy, he was just getting his senses back, feeling you, smelling your hair that you must have washed the night before, and hearing the small sobs of relief you were letting out. "Stop crying, I'm fine," Katsuki rasped, voice still shattered from everything.

"You almost died," you pulled back, placing your hands on his face, getting the flashed memory of your bloody hands on him as he struggled to stay awake and alive.

He really took in your appearance then, forced to look at you with your hands squishing his face. You looked like a wreck, it was obvious to anyone that you hardly slept. Your clothes were wrinkled and your hair was a mess, as if you ran your hands through it too many times.

"Kats?" you called for his attention.

"Huh?"

"You can't do that to me," you scolded, knowing deep in your heart, something like this would happen again.

He knew that too, which is why he just pulled you in for another hug. "Why's my quirk weird?" he whispered, not feeling the usual sense of his quirk.

"What do you mean?" you asked. You tried to pull away but his grip was firm, keeping you pressed into his arms.

His face reddened. The reason he felt off was because he didn't feel the normal energy rushing through his hands that came out as sparks at your touch. "Just not sweaty, y'know, like normal."

You laughed lightly, voice still fragile from how much you've been crying, "They put you on quirk suppressants, they expected you to explode with anger or something when you woke up."

Ideas flashed before his eyes. He was on quirk suppressants and was unable to use his quirk, at least right now. He wasn't sparking up at your touch.

He left his arms loosen, you pulling back once again to check his face, make sure he really was there. Placing your hands on his cheek, squeezing your eyes shut at the memory before looking at him again. He thought over his next move, looking at your expression for a while. He reached his hand up to hold yours against his face. Looking up at you before his other hand reached up and pulled you in for a kiss.

That was the first kiss between you two. Put off as the heat of the moment and never discussed afterward. Both of you knew it wasn't, but you would die on the hill that it was. Right after you parted, a doctor came in to inform you that Izuku was starting to wake up, and he needed to run some tests on Katsuki.

After that, everything was insanely busy. Preparations for the war were already taking place. Izuku was asking for your help with his suit. The last suit he asked for before he wrote a goodbye letter and went MIA. That was hard for both you and Katsuki. You spent nights awake together going through the tracker you left on his gear, keeping track of his location and health.

Those nights together feel like a fleeting moment that you could never grasp again.

When the second year was supposed to start, you saw your childhood friend die in front of you. With nothing you could do as he laid limp on the cold ground. He was beaten and bloody just like everyone else. Just like you were. You went into the fight on a whim, just having finished a suit for yourself, and after about 20 minutes of fighting for your life, you were knocked down. Laying limp while you saw Katsuki get his lifeless body thrown to the side.

You woke up in the hospital before him, body still bruised but you were healed more than most. Katsuki's room was the first you went to, after asking every hospital worker if he was alive. His room was cold, not lively with his usual energy, but his heart was still pumping. Notes from his mom littered his table, just like yours but with more. You couldn't stand looking at him for more than twenty minutes. Choking on your tears as you decided to see Izuku.

Walking was too much for you, despite your healing, seeing Izuku's entirely broken body broke you even more. You passed out after a few moments of seeing the green-haired boy. Head flooding with the reality that both of your best friends almost died, and one did.

The nurse kept you in your room from then on, you passed out and hit your head. Gaining a major concussion with the fall. You were completely bedridden and required to be in a room with little to no light. So it was a shock when a bandaged Katsuki slammed open your door, multiple people behind him telling him to lay down and rest.

You had the horrible hospital food halfway in your mouth when he barged in. Dropping it as you stared at the boy.

"Are you okay?" he asked despite the protests behind him.

"Yes? Are you okay?" you asked back, more confused than anything.

Katsuki shoved the people off his shoulder and pushed his way into your hospital room, closing and locking the door behind him.

"What are you doing? You died! You need rest," you protested, finally having your brain start working.

He scoffed, walking to your side, with a a limp, "Can't sleep, 'think I can knowing you're in the hospital room down the hall?" He pushed you to the side of your bed, making a spot for him to lay next to you.

"When'd you wake up?" you asked softly, accepting he wouldn't have it any other way.

He stayed quiet for a moment, "Like thirty minutes ago."

"Bakugo!" you slapped his arm, super gently compared to normal, "Have you let them run their tests? How do I know you're okay?"

"Relax, and don't call me that," he huffed.

"You died!"

"I know," he sighed, looking away, "They ran a few tests and said I'm fine. Shouldn't be up but y'know how I am."

You let out a sigh of relief, "You should go to bed, Kats."

"Told ya, can't sleep," he looked at you

"Yeah but they need to-"

"I'm on quirk suppressants, can I kiss you?" he interrupted you, a blush coating his face.

"Huh?" you blinked, "What does that have to do with anything?"

"Please?"

"I mean sure but-"

He didn't let you continue anymore, pressing his lips to yours after he got your consent. This kiss was more passionate than the first. Like the other just escape death, like how it was. His hand cradled your face, pushing you closer just to kiss you softer.

When you both pulled back, you let out small breaths. Foreheads resting on each other as you stared at each others' lips.

"Been wantin' to do that," he whispered.

"Me too," you smiled. Any conversation before being forgotten, for a moment at least.

You heard the door handle to your room jiggle. Keys being tested on the lock.

"You're okay though?" he pulled back, looking at you for any injuries.

"Just a concussion, you have it worse," you frowned, looking at all the cuts that were covered with a bandage.

"I've lived through worse," he said for comfort.

"You died from this," you furrowed your brows. "Let your doctors run their test, otherwise I won't talk to you."

"But-"

"Go," you stayed firm. Just in time for the doctor to unlock the room and rush him out.

About two months or so later, you two had the chance to sit one one-on-one together. No physical therapy appointments to attend or any work to do. Just time to talk. The war left a lot of cleaning up and school only started again a week ago. Everything was changed and fixed. Which left little free time other than sleep. You've seen each other between the kiss and now but it was always in groups.

You talked for a while that day. Deciding to actually become something more. To be more than childhood best friends. So you did, about halfway into the second year.

The second year was busy, with all the changes to the hero world and the world in general. You never got time alone to work on your relationship. Staying normal besides the title change to your relationship, never even kissing again. It was hard but you worked through it, too busy to even think about it. The third year was the same, just only sharing a kiss if he got injured or when you got a huge job offer. You also shared a kiss at graduation, when you agreed to live together after school.

Getting a two-bedroom apartment together, right next to where you both worked. At first, you thought that the second bedroom was going to be an office. But it ended up being his room. The two of you not sharing a bed despite almost 2 years of a relationship at this point. Yet you worked with it, if he needed more time then that's okay. He was everything to you. And you could tell you were everything for him as well. It just got a little weird when your friends forgot your relationship, asked if you were unhappy or abused, or even flirted with you.

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yanderes-galore · 23 hours

Note

As long as I can, I will offer you something: romantique Satoru vs Suguru (cruse user) with the reader (sorcerer) who has a preference for Satoru.

Thanks to advance ~😘

Honestly, I'm down (bad) for this idea. I hope you like my silly little ideas.

Yandere! Satoru Gojo vs CU! Suguru Geto with Sorcerer! Darling

(Focuses on Suguru's feelings mostly)

Pairing: Romantic - Rivalry

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Manipulation, Jealousy, Violence, Possessive behavior, Overprotective behavior, Death, Blood, Attempted kidnapping, Stalking, Dubious/Forced relationship.

Well, as a Sorcerer there has to be something anchoring you to the role.

Or, in this case, someone.

Satoru Gojo is one of the many reasons you stayed a Sorcerer.

Plus, killing innocents like Suguru Geto didn't feel right.

Naturally you gained a preference for Satoru, still seeing him as a loyal friend.

The sad thing is you, Satoru, and Suguru used to be considered close friends in your student days.

It wasn't until after the Star Plasma Incident that Suguru began to drift from you both.

You saw your friend hit all new lows, looking disheveled and depressed.

You had no idea he'd snap.

Satoru had always seen you try to help Suguru.

You were closest with Satoru but Suguru was part of your trio so naturally you cared.

Suguru appreciated your concerns, but you could never convince him to enjoy this world after what happened.

No matter how much you hugged him or said you were there for him, you can't change fate.

Satoru and Suguru both had crushes on you when you were students.

Suguru appreciated the fact you cared enough to try and nudge him in the right direction, even if it was pointless.

He did love you in a way.

Satoru appreciated that you cared for your shared friend, his cheeks warming at the fact you were so attentive.

Although... things turn sour when Suguru goes rogue.

When you hear about how Suguru massacred an entire village while on a mission, that drives you to Satoru.

You feel betrayed by Suguru, which leads to Satoru pulling you closer.

This rift is what makes their crushes turn into a rivalry.

Suguru loves you and wants you on his side.

Satoru loves you and clings to you more due to losing Suguru.

I can see Suguru meeting you and Satoru one last time like in the end of that arc on the street.

He came to see you both, but Suguru's eyes kept trailing to you.

I imagine the rivalry would spark when Suguru makes one last offer to you.

Imagine if said offer was a confession, a last ditch effort to have you on his side.

Satoru is perplexed at this development, seeing Suguru give a smug look as he kisses your hand.

However, as expected, you turn Suguru down.

This makes Suguru pause, glaring at Satoru for a moment while Satoru glares back.

Suguru parts from you both, but it's clear things between them are unresolved.

Since you prefer Satoru, wouldn't it be even more dramatic if you two ended up together maybe a year or two after this event?

Either way, the whole dynamic of this rivalry would be picking sides in a war you have no idea is being started.

Suguru is working with his cult, keeping an eye on your development as a Sorcerer.

He thinks you could be a great asset... and he misses you.

Meanwhile Satoru often trains with you and comes off as more serious now.

He's even more clingy now, too.

These two are very strong with their abilities.

Suguru is probably not as strong as Satoru, but the two can put up a good fight against one another.

What irritates Suguru the most is your blatant favoritism for Satoru.

They both love you, but you're too damn oblivious to know you should join Suguru.

He hates that Satoru has such a hold on you.

It's even worse if when Suguru meets you again, you're dating Satoru.

Suguru gets so stressed about this.

They're both possessive but Satoru becomes more protective as he knows Suguru is still out there.

He just has no idea when he's going to make his move.

Satoru no doubt knows Suguru still has feelings for you and will do anything to get you by his side again.

Satoru gets a bit paranoid, imagining his old friend breaking you just to keep you to himself.

These thoughts cause Satoru to never leave you alone.

You're never off campus alone, always having Satoru follow you.

You want to be mad at him, but you can't.

You are just as aware of Suguru as he is.

You understand your old friend is a dangerous man, one willing to watch you from the shadows before pouncing when you're alone.

The fears of both you and Satoru aren't misplaced.

Suguru is indeed spying on you.

He stalks you, eyes narrowing when he sees you so close with Satoru.

Suguru often tests your abilities by sending Curses or Curse Users after you, although he's mostly testing how quick Satoru will come to your aid.

Suguru keeps trying to smother his irritation when he sees Satoru come to your aid. Every. Damn. Time.

He needs you alone... He needs you as his.

There has no doubt been attempted kidnappings by Suguru, often trying to force you away from him to take you.

But Satoru, like a protective boyfriend, always arrives to save you.

Satoru is annoyed that Suguru won't take a hint.

He isn't sure what it's going to take to get the Curse User away.

Satoru hates the idea of killing Suguru, but so help him if Suguru lays a hand on you....

Suguru doesn't mind murder, he hesitates when it comes to Satoru just a bit... but he's an obstacle now.

I like to think there's times they fight before the final confrontation.

Just as Suguru's about to wrap his arms around you, Satoru warps in and tugs you away.

Suguru hates that you won't willingly follow him... but blames it on Satoru.

Their rivalry becomes a constant game between the two.

Right up until Yuta comes into the picture.

Well, now Suguru has two reasons to attack the school.

If he can keep Satoru distracted, he can probably kill Yuta, take Rika, then take you.

It's perfect, it's tempting, and this begins their final encounter in the rivalry.

In canon, there's only one way the rivalry can end.

Suguru makes his entrance at the school, gaze immediately snapping to you with the rest of those students you and Satoru have.

He wonders what Satoru's plan is, leaving you all alone.

That's okay... Suguru's waited a long time for this...

You had been adamant on staying behind to watch Yuta, worrying for the kid due to his situation with Rika.

You're both targets... Satoru knows this.

Although Satoru wants to believe Yuta has things covered.

Suguru's main goal would be Yuta, but he certainly keeps you at bay.

He loves how good it feels to have you pinned, whispering how he's yearned for this.

If only you joined him all those years ago... you could've been perfect.

He tells you how you can't hide behind Satoru anymore.

If he has to, he'll kill him, kill him just to make sure he puts an end to this game.

But that's okay... he'll take you home once he has Rika.

Of course, his plan doesn't go as well as he thought it would.

It's only salt in the wound when Satoru shows up as Suguru bleeds on the ground.

Satoru is glaring at Suguru, recalling how scared you looked.

"I didn't hurt them badly, Satoru... but you came to rub it in, didn't you?"

Suguru would grin, blood still pooling.

"They weren't yours. Never were. I've told you that for years."

Satoru's glare is cold, his blue eyes narrowing.

Suguru merely glares back, grunting.

"You were holding them back. I could've made them great. I could've loved them more than you-"

"You're delusional from that blood loss, aren't you?"

Even as one of them is dying, the two still bicker.

Their rivalry still flares, but Suguru accepts the loss eventually.

"Fine, Satoru. You win. But... won't you let me see them one last time?"

Satoru hates the idea, jaw clenching.

"After what you did? Fat chance."

"Please, Satoru... I'll behave."

Reluctantly Satoru may call you over, you’re staring down at Suguru with an echo of disdain in your gaze.

Suguru merely gives a bloody smile, reading out to hold your hand.

Satoru keeps a tight grasp on your waist, a cold gaze never leaving Suguru.

Suguru no doubt confesses his obsession, stroking your hand quietly before kissing it.

Your skin is stained with his blood, Suguru's gaze is nothing but lovesick.

Eventually, before Suguru can kiss your face, Satoru yanks you away.

You're sent back to recover as the rivalry concludes.

It ends the same as canon, Suguru dies at Satoru's hand and Satoru claims you for himself.

Satoru feels he can relax more, knowing you're finally safe... and finally his.

Satoru would win this rivalry, holding you possessively to his chest as you two continue dating.

Satoru begins to show some red flags... but you don't notice them until later.

For the most part... he's just clingy.

Luckily he doesn't have to worry about Suguru anymore...

Although I do wonder what his reaction would be to Kenjaku feeling a similar desire later on...?

#yandere jujutsu kaisen #yandere jjk #yandere satoru gojo #yandere suguru geto #yandere gojo #yandere geto

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tokyo-daaaamn-ji-gang · 2 days

Note

Hello!

How do you think TR boys would react if they accidently hurt their s/o, like, in a fit of anger, or during a couple fight?

Preferably, Baji, Chifuyu, Mikey, and Kazutora? But anybody you want is fine!

Like physically? I don't think any of them would swing on their partner even if they were annoyed so I came up with a scenario I think could happen which results in the reader being accidentally physically hurt!

He was so angry right now, the two of you had been arguing over the same thing for the past hour but nothing was getting better. The two of you were just going round in circles and it was starting to frustrate him further. He punched the wall in anger, momentarily not caring about the sound of a frame smashing to the floor. He didn't even turn around to look at it, not until he heard a different noise.

Baji-

You hissed in pain as the glass cut your finger, you were only trying to clean up the mess but now you were bleeding.

Frowning at the noise, Baji immediately comes rushing over to you, elevating your hand and applying pressure. He can't bear to see you in pain so quickly tries to sort it out himself.

He's still a little mad at you but not enough to ignore you like this. Truthfully he's more mad at himself, cursing his impulsiveness under his breath.

Apologises then tells you to sit down while he cleans his own mess up.

He still intends to discuss the problem with you tomorrow but decides to try and not let his anger get the better of him this time. But for the rest of today he just wants to be close to you.

Chifuyu-

After hearing your sudden hiss in pain, he whips his head around so fast you think he might hurt himself in a second.

Immediately comes over to you, trying to stop the bleeding and profusely apologising.

Feels extremely guilty and is on the verge of tears the whole time, it's his fault you got hurt!

He doesn't do a very good job with your injury because he's panicking so much.

You both end up kinda having to reassure and comfort each other

The problem is entirely forgotten, he doesn't even care anymore.

Becomes even more caring after, he just wants you to know he'd never do that on purpose and he really is sorry.

Mikey-

Doesn't actually undertake what that hiss noise was at first. You have no reason to be in pain so he's sure it isn't you. Looks around with a confused look until he notices you kneeling on the floor, holding your now bleeding hand.

Sucks in sharp breath as his eyes widen, did he do that???

Jumps into action after a moments pause, grabbing as many tissues as he can and running over to you.

Asks you how it happens exactly, like he still can't believe it was a result of his actions.

Get's such a hurt look on his face after you quickly tell him. He feels so guilty, like he just ruined everything. He's the worst.

He continues helping you while apologising in the saddest tone you've ever heard from him. Avoids eye contact with you until you tell him to look at you.

Needs reassurance that you forgive him (if you do).

Promises to never punch the wall again, then runs out to buy a new frame as well as taiyaki for both of you. The argument is completely forgotten.

Kazutora-

Freezes the second he hears the sound come out your mouth, he's heard similar noises enough times to know what they mean.

Turns around immediately, eyes going wide as he sees you.

Panic and dread sets in, he freezes and time feels like it's slowed down for him. He did this, he hurt you. He really is just like his father.

He wants to run away, out of the room and from the situation but he can't, can't just leave you there.

Taking a deep breath, he moves towards you, trying to be as gentle as he can with your injury while he helps you.

You have to say his name a few times before his attention is on your words. It's then that he suddenly realises he was so focused on your injury that he hasn't apologised yet.

A string of sorry's slip out, as he tries to tell you how he never wanted this to happen.

Definitely needs you to communicate your forgiveness and reassure him that it was just an accident (if you do forgive him).

Spends the rest of the day trying to make it up to you in little ways, even after you tell him he doesn't need to.

#tokyo revengers #tokrev #tokyo rev

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justmeinadaze · 15 hours

Text

Secret Underneath Part 6 (Steddie X Plus Size Reader)

A/N: No cliffhanger this time, I promise <3.

Warning: Older (Mid thirties) Sugar Daddies Steve and Eddie/ Young (Early to mid 20s) Baby Fem Plus Size Reader, No smut in this one today, ladies and lads. I didn't feel like it worked with this chapter. I was going to make this one long chapter but I thought it better to split it :)

ANGST, Y/N confronts them about the events of the last chapter. Insecurities get in the way of them and that is explored a lot more in this chapter with mentions of their dads as well as Gina hurting them. She is sullying their image by saying lies (mentions verbal abuse and comments on how the plus size reader is "probably being used" by them because of how she looks) , she does have an incident at a bar with a guy being a dick, they defend her.

Word Count: 4853

Series here/ Donate to Me :)

You broke a rule.

You went on Google and searched for their lawyer’s information through news outlets spouting anything they could in regard to this case. After finding what you needed, you charged into the building and past a secretary who was shouting for you to come back as you opened the door to a conference room where many sets of eyes including their shocked expressions landed on you.

“Excuse me, gentlemen, but I need a moment alone with these boys for a moment.”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Wilson, she just stormed right past me—”

“No, no. It’s alright, Crystal. Um, let’s take a breather and we’ll be back in a moment.”

As soon as everyone had filed out, your angry eyes burned into them as you slid your phone across the table.

“That thing hasn’t stopped going off since Gina released your names and quite frankly I’m afraid to look at it.”

“How did you find out where we were?”, Steve asked as he rose to his feet.

“I googled your lawyer’s name.”

“Well, so much for that promise.”, Eddie sassed as he leaned back in his chair.

“And so much for your promise to take care of me!”, you screamed not caring if anyone heard. “Did you really fucking think that I could stay out of this?! Did you think after what she said people weren’t going to wonder and dig into why I was with you at that party?!”

“You wanted to go and we warned you of the risks of being seen with us.”

“Don’t you dare do that! Don’t you fucking dare place blame on me! I don’t care about being seen with you or if people know that we’re together! What I care about is my job, those kids, and you two!! How can I properly help and protect myself if I don’t have all the facts?! Do you know what she’s saying? She’s saying you two promised to take care of her if anything ever happened. That you were verbally aggressive with her and--”

“Yeah, Y/N, we’re aware of she’s claiming.”, the mogul growls. “Since you’re doing your own research did you go on her social medias? Oh, a lot of fun material there. Now that a fucking judge allowed her to talk about us she’s been posting nonstop about how Eddie would demean her and make her feel ugly. That I apparently offered her money to get plastic surgery to make her look ‘perfect’.”, he sarcastically laughs.

“You should have told me.”

“Because you think we did what she claims?”

“No, Eddie! Fuck, so I can prepare. What if parents suddenly feel like I can’t teach their kids because of the company I keep? What if the school decides that my association with you isn’t worth the attention? Now that this has come to light I need to be aware of what’s going on!”

Neither man said a thing infuriating you more.

“Did you not tell me because you thought I wouldn’t want to be with you? Or did you think I’d hurt you like she did?” You laugh as you shake your head. ��Jesus. I thought you two were different but you’re just like every other scared little boy. I thought I had given you enough reason to trust me but I guess not.”

“Yeah so why don’t you fucking leave then, you little brat.”

You weren’t sure if they saw it in your eyes but you definitely felt your heart break. Wrapping your arms around yourself, you back away towards the door.

“I’m so stupid.”

When your teary eyes met theirs, you could tell Steve regretted his words but he couldn’t take them back. They couldn’t take any of this back. Furiously, you reach into your pocket and throw their apartment key across the table before leaving the way you came.

##############

Instagram:

IHateithere: “Oh my god. Poor Gina!”

NeverHave_IEver13: “She’s so sweet and deserves better.”

CorrodedGirl28: “Fuck Gina Frost. This isn’t the first time she’s made claims against a partner! I met Eddie Munson backstage at one of his concerts and he was so sweet.”

E!News: Mystery Woman seen at the Charity Event with Steven Harrington and Edward Munson has been cited by the men’s lawyers as ‘just a friend.’

Twitter:

ElderEmoKid91: That poor friend of theirs. No matter what people will think they dated because of Gina.

ChaosRains: ‘Their friend’? Yeah right. Probably as much of a whore as Gina Frost!

JusticefortheUnheard: I bet if this was a man with two women he’d be slated as a ‘hero’ but because it’s a woman with two men she’s a whore. Grow up!

Steve Harrington: Eddie and I are saddened to hear that not only has our privacy been violated but Gina Frost is allowed to continue spreading her lies until we get this matter resolved. We never once raised a voice or hand to her and took care of her like any boyfriend would which she constantly took advantage of…

Steve Harrington: In regard to the young lady that came with us to charity event last Saturday, she is a friend we’ve known for a while. We ask politely that you respect her privacy as what is going on between us and Gina…

Steve Harrington: doesn’t involve her. Thank you for your understanding and we will speak more on this situation when we are finally able.

TMZ: Steve Harrington and Eddie Munson release joint statement regarding ‘friend’ and how they feel about Frost ‘spreading her lies’!

YouTube and TV:

CBS: “Gina Frost, thank you so much for speaking with us today. Before we let you go, what are your thoughts on the young lady they were seen with? Do you have any advice for her in regard to Mr. Harrington and Mr. Munson?”

“Run, girl. Get as far away from them as you can. Honestly, I wouldn’t be surprised if they started ‘hanging out’ with a girl like her because of our case. They always wanted me to be perfect. To look like the woman they thought would be equal to them and their status. She’s the complete opposite of what they wanted me to be so dating, or excuse me, being friends with her makes them look good.”

***

You wiped the tears that fell with your knee as you browse Daddies on your computer. Your phone was still dinging constantly so you kept it hidden in your bedside table drawer. Since winter break had started you didn’t have to deal with work and for that you were thankful.

Your identity hadn’t been officially confirmed but it seemed to be common knowledge at this point; everyone knew it was you.

Not wanting to be alone, you ran home into your parent’s open arms.

“Baby! Are you ok? What’s going on? Tell us everything.”

“I’m so stupid, mom.”, you cried.

“No, you’re not, honey. Come on. I made some coffee. Let’s sit down and talk.”

You told them everything minus the exact way you met them but you did tell them that you had been dating them both and how much you cared about them. When you were met with nothing but love and zero judgement, you cried harder.

Having fully settled in, you felt yourself getting antsy. After everything, you didn’t want a new relationship, just something casual but after having been with the guys you felt yourself cringing more and more at the stupid flirting that hit you.

“’Sup, pretty girl? Fuck your gorgeous. Wanna suck my cock?”

“Hey babe. You got an attitude? I bet I can fuck it out of you.”

“What are you doing, Y/N?”

Your head straightened at the message from Mogul/Rockstar. You hadn’t heard from them in over two weeks. What were they doing on this site? You couldn’t help the jealousy that flowed through you even though technically you were on the site first.

2:13am: What do you want, Steve?

2:14am: I want an answer to my question. What are you doing on this site again?

2:15am: What are YOU doing on here?! And why do you fucking care? You told me to leave remember?

2:17am: We’ve been calling you for the past couple of weeks but you don’t answer. We got worried. Steve thought maybe we could reach you through here but I thought naw. She wouldn’t get back on here so fast. Guess we were wrong.

2:20am: Don’t you dare, Eddie. Don’t you turn this around on me. You have no idea what I’ve been through! I still can’t believe you didn’t talk to me. You really expected me to sit at my apartment while you handled all this alone. Did you really think she wouldn’t pull me into your thing?”

2:21am: Now because of all the secrecy I can’t help but think what I’m hearing is true!

2:22am: Like what?

2:25am: Answer. Like what?

2:26am: That you only dated me so it seems like you didn’t want her to be the ‘ideal woman’.

You hear your phone vibrate against the drawer it’s nestled.

2:28am: Answer the phone.

2:28am: No.

2:29am: Now, Y/N. We need to talk.

2:30am: Oh now you want to talk!? Go fuck yourselves!

2:30am: Mogul/Rockstar has invited you to a video chat!!

2:31am: CurveybabywAttitude declined your invitation to video chat.

2:32am: Y/N. Answer the fucking phone.

2:38am: Y/N, sweetheart, please.

2:44am: Baby…

2:44am: Please…

2:45am: We love you.

2:45am: So much.

Uh oh! It looks like this Baby can no longer receive messages from Mogul/Rockstar! This means you have either been blocked or the Baby has deleted their account.

###################

“Jesus what assholes.”, your best friend sighs as she takes a sip from her glass. “If they loved you then why did they push you away?”

“I don’t know, My. Let’s stop talking about them and dance!”

To get your mind off everything and let go, you met up with your best friend who took you to a new bar that had been built while you were away from home. Dressed in your tightest black dress and black heels, you grabbed your own drink and danced away the pain.

Your friend took photos, tagging you together with men in the background casually touching your arm or waist. Your limbs found their way around a cute boy you had been talking casually to and allow him to kiss you. You hated the taste, missing Eddie and Steve even more but you pushed down the feeling as you pulled him tighter against you.

“Take me home.”, you slurred, making the young man immediately jump to his feet. When you tried to do the same you fell backwards.

“Whoa, Y/N. Maybe, you should let me take you home.”

“Naw, Mya. I-I-I M’fine.”, you assured as you lightly pushed her to the side and stumbled out the front door. When you tripped again the man wrapped your arm around his neck and began leading you to his car. “Wait—Wait. I’m…I need a minute.”, you whine as you take a seat on the brick wall behind you.

“Come on, baby. You can rest at my place.”, the man cooed in your ear causing you to cringe. “Look we don’t even have to go. We can just fuck in my car real quick—”

“Oh, that’s romantic.”

As you stood up and started to walk away, he grabbed your wrist a bit to roughly and in return, you smacked his cheek before stumbling to the concrete.

“Ow! Fucking bitch—” As the man began to step forward, someone intercepted, abruptly grabbing his collar and lifting him off his feet.

“Eddie, let it go, man. Not right now.”, Steve whispers before kneeling down beside you to try and help you up.

“Get out of my sight.”, the rockstar growls, pushing him away from you.

“Y/N, stop. I’m just trying to help you stand—”

“I don’t need your fucking help!”, you shouted as you shoved his hand away. “I don’t need anything from you!”

Trying to push up onto your knees, you became dizzy and fell over again causing Steve to try and steady you while blocking your shoulder from scraping the wall beside you. Your hair was blocking your face but when they heard you sniffle, Eddie crouched down to balance on his heels and tenderly reached out to move some of it behind your ear.

“I did everything you asked… I didn’t push when it came to your past or dig into your information online. I-I-I respected the anon-ymity and privacy when we first met and took a leap of faith going to that party with you. I flew to visit you anywhere you were and didn’t complain when you were gone for weeks at a time. I made myself vulnerable…for you…but still…you don’t trust me.”

“Y/N, sweetheart, we are so sorry—”

“I want to go home, please, Daddy.”

The way you said that shattered them in two. Just in your voice alone they could hear how much pain you were in yet even in your inebriated state you still yearned for them. Selfishly, it gave them hope.

“Y/N, sweetie! There you are.”, your best friend shouts in relief as she runs to you and helps you to your feet. “Get the fuck away from her. Haven’t you done enough damage?!”

“We just want to talk to her.”

“Fuck you! You had your chance to talk and—”

“Mya, please. Sleepy.”, you whine.

When she tries to lead you away from them towards her car, you stumble over your feet again but Eddie swiftly catches you and lifts you into his arms.

“We’ll help you get her to your car.”

“Why? So you know which one is mine and follow me back to her house?!”

“No, so we can help you get her situated and back home so she can rest.”, Steve growled.

Mya blinks, taken a back slightly by their protective demeanors over you. After taking a moment, she finally nods and guides them towards her vehicle, watching carefully as they place you in the passenger seat. The mogul buckles your seatbelt and gently puts your bag in your lap.

Your half-lidded eyes scan his worried face as your head lulls towards him.

“M’not her.”

“Who, honey?”

“Gina.”

Flashing you a soft smile, he begins to reach out to pet your head before forcing himself to stop and rise to his feet.

“We’re staying at the hotel by the highway; room 118. When she wakes up tomorrow, if you could tell her that, we’d appreciate it.”, Eddie conveys as his sad eyes stay on you.

“Your fuckers, you know that?”, Mya shouts their way as they start to leave. “Like so much so that I don’t even know where to begin. She used to call me every other day and talk about these new guys she was seeing. She never told me your full names but she told me everything else. ‘Oh Mya, they are so sweet and funny. Steve is amazing at his job and works to hard to make sure everything gets done while still being able to be there for me. I love watching Eddie play on stage. He gets so into the songs and his face lights up when he hears the fans singing along. Falling asleep in their arms is my new favorite place. I finally feel safe.’”

“When the news dropped, I called her but she didn’t answer. I wasn’t worried at the time because the way she described you, I thought ‘Thankfully, they have her and she has them.’ Then she came home and told me about you expecting her to hide in her apartment with zero information on what was happening. How you yelled at her and called her a fucking brat when she called you out.”

“Oh, and the icing on the cake? You tell her you love her for the first time over a dating website AFTER ALL THIS BULLSHIT YOU PUT HER THROUGH! Holden wore his asshole behavior out in the open for all to see. You made her believe you were different, leading her on before breaking her heart. After the stuff I read, I’m starting to believe Gina Frost.”

Both men absorbed what your best friend was saying, different emotions painting their features before finally landing on anger; not at her but themselves.

“Your right.”, Steve replied in a sullen tone. “We fucked up. Hell, we did more than fuck up…”

“We’ve never cared about anyone the way we do her and that terrifies us. Not just because of our status or who we are even though that’s why Gina used us but…”, Eddie added. “The men underneath the fame and money are incredibly flawed.”

“Gina made us afraid of her hurting us but our own personal bullshit made us afraid of hurting her.”

“So this is better?”, Mya asked.

“My…where…where your phone?”, you slurred as your hand lazily reached in her direction.

“Y/N, I’m taking you back to your mom’s, honey, you don’t know need to call them.”

“No…not mom…Eddie…Steve…I need to make dem come back. They were here an’ an’…”

“How about you call them tomorrow morning, ok? It’s really late and—”

“I don’t want dem to leave again. Mya…please…”

“Hey, hey sweetheart, we’re right here. We haven’t gone anywhere.” Tears start to run down your cheeks again and the rockstar cups your face in his hand. “We’re right here and we’ll be here when you wake up. Just let Mya, take you home and get you in bed. Tomorrow you can call us and we’ll talk then alright?”

After you nod, Eddie adjusts your body again before closing the door.

“You guys should get going.”

“Do you really love her?”, your best friend asks.

“Yes.”

Again, Mya takes a moment to gather her thoughts as her eyes shift between your now sleeping frame and them.

“Her parents house isn’t far. You can follow me there.”

***

“Why are they here?”, your father asks in an annoyed tone as he eyes the men up and down.

“It’s ok, Mr. Y/L/N. They just wanted to help get her situated and then they’ll be on their way.”, Mya answers in equal measure.

“Is her room up here?”, Eddie inquires as he gestures towards the stairs.

“Why don’t you come with us so you can get her changed into something comfier.”, Steve follows when your friend nods.

“Why? You’re her whatevers right?”

“I don’t think it would be appropriate right now for us to do that.”

“I can help you.”, your mom responds out of nowhere. “Come on, gentlemen.”

After they get to your room, your mother turns on your bedside lamp as Eddie gently places you down on your bed. Taping the rockstars shoulder, she hands him an oversized shirt with your college insignia on it and some shorts.

“Maybe you should…”

“I trust you, Mr. Munson. Plus I’m right here.” Her eyes studiously watch them as both boys work to change you out of your tight garment doing everything they could to not have to look at your body. Steve’s palm carefully cradled your head to make sure they didn’t jostle you around too much as you soundly slept.

“Do you have a washrag or wipe or something for her makeup?”

Her head tilts at his question, impressed he even thought of that. Disappearing into your restroom, she came back with wet wipes, and Eddie thanked her as he took one and gently cleaned your face.

This was a bit harder to accomplish without moving you as your face scrunched and you whined.

“Steve…stop…”

“That’s it, sweetheart. Blame him. That way if I don’t do this correctly it will be his fault.”, he teased making you sleepily giggle.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”, Eddie whispers.

“Thank you, ma’am, for letting us do this. We just wanted to make sure she got here safely.”

“Hm. You wanted to make sure she got back home in one piece but didn’t think to do that when it came to all this chaos you brought her into?”, you mom scolded as she folded her arms.

“We did warn her—”

“No Mr. Harrington. You may have warned her about your lifestyle but you didn’t do anything to protect her when the fallout of that lifestyle presented itself. Holden ‘warned’ her about what life in New York would be like but when things got hard he abandoned her instead working with her. Like him, you left her alone.”

Nodding, their heads hung as they began to head towards the door before stopping.

“I’m afraid.”, Eddie announces. “My mom died when I was young, my dad went to jail, people around me told me I’d never amount to anything, and then our ex did what she did. When we met Y/N, fuck, I thought she was perfect… and that scares me. I don’t want to lose her but I also don’t want to be the reason that spark inside of her dies.”

“Seems like a lose/lose, Eddie. But let me ask you something… what if your relationship with her had a happy ending? What if she didn’t hurt you like your ex and you don’t hurt her like people in your life?” She smiles softly as she pats his shoulder. “It’s a risk, boys, but you just need to decide who is worth taking that risk for. You’re more than welcome to stay in our spare bedroom if you would like.”

####################

When you woke up the next morning, you had a splitting headache, thankful that your pain reliever was still in your drawer by your bed. The sound of soft breathing startled you a bit and when you leaned over your bedframe, you were surprised to see Eddie asleep on your floor using his jacket as a pillow. Steve had placed himself in the reading chair you had in the corner with his head leaning against the wall.

You didn’t realize how much you missed them till you saw their faces and you took the opportunity to refamiliarize yourself as your eyes scanned over them. The mogul was in jeans and a polo making you smile softly while silently missing the sleek suits that hugged him perfectly. The rockstar was still dressed the same as he usually was but his whole demeanor even while sleeping seemed heavy.

Your heart broke for them until the last couple of weeks caught up with you and you remembered why you were here.

Reaching for one of your pillows, you threw it their way, hitting Eddie’s chest before it bounced and hit Steve’s lap.

“The fuck?”, he grumbled as he rubbed his eyes.

“The fuck indeed. Why are you both here? How did you even know where I was?”

“Your best friend was posting pictures of you and tagging your location on Instagram. You weren’t answering your phone—”

“Yeah, Steve, for a reason. That doesn’t give you the right to come down here.”

“Thank God we did because some asshole was harassing you and Mya was having trouble getting you to her car to take you home.”

“No, Eddie. You playing hero doesn’t absolve you of what you did. You have no idea what I’ve been through!”

“We tried to call—”

“Oh, fuck you both!” As you start to get up to yell at them, a sharp sting runs through knee causing you to wince and sit back down.

“Shit. Didn’t see that last night. Um, do you have a first kit or anything thing?”

When you don’t answer, the mogul goes on the hunt himself as Eddie kneels in front of you to look at the scrape on your knee.

“Yeah, you fell on the concrete outside of the bar with some asshole trying to… I told him to fuck off.” Sitting on the bed beside you, Steve opens the little white box and starts to open a Band-Aid before his friend stops him. “Dude, you have to clean it first. It’s like you’ve never been in a fight before. Gimme this.”, he chuckles lightly as he takes the box and pulls out the antiseptic.

“You don’t have to do this. I’m not… I don’t belong to you anymore.”

His movements only halt for a second before Eddie continues taking care of you.

“I don’t mind doing this. I like taking care of you.”, he murmurs. “Unless you want me to stop.”

“I don’t want you to but I didn’t want you to cast me aside either.”

“We—”

“Don’t say you didn’t, Steve, because you did.”

“We did.” His response surprised you as you turned your head in his direction. “We talked to your mom last night. She’s a very wise woman.”, he smirks as he watches Eddie continue his task. “Y/N, I worked so hard to get where I am and I don’t just mean taking over my dad’s company and doing the deals I do. When I was growing up, I was never enough for either of my parents but especially my father. In his eyes, I could always be just a little bit better.”

“I could shorten my time by one more second in the pool or get one more minute on the court. My grades could have been one point higher or I could have gotten three grand more out of a deal. He wanted me to be perfect but I learned after I graduated high school that bar was always changing.” When his eyes finally met yours, you saw the pain behind them. “Gina knew all this… that’s why she’s saying that about me. She knows it hurts me…people thinking I’m like my father.”

Eddie finishes placing the Band-aid on your skin and leans back against the wall across from you.

“My dad was a dick…to me and my mother. He cut us down all the time verbally but after she died it got worse. He would tell me I was stupid and a freak just like the people in our town. I left my house with more bruises than I could count on numerous occasions but his words, babe. I carry those everywhere even now. I never once, no matter how angry I was, called her anything demeaning even though I fucking wanted to. She would call us every name in the book but we never once belittled her or laid a hand on her.”

“When we met you, Jesus, I swear there was no girl we had ever met like you.”

“Beautiful, sarcastic, kind, understanding…”, Steve clarified when your eyebrows furrowed. “Y/N, you are everything we’ve ever wanted.”

“Stop…”, you whimper quietly.

“I feel like somehow she knows that. That’s why she’s saying that stuff about us choosing you because you’re everything she’s not. We wouldn’t change anything about you. Not one thing, princess. But we are so fucking scared of getting hurt again.”

“And we’re afraid of hurting you.”

“That’s not fair.”

“What isn’t fair, honey?”

“Do you think trusting you was easy after what Holden did to me? I upended everything I knew to follow him and he broke my heart. I was terrified of starting over in any relationship let alone with two people but I got to know you and allowed myself to be vulnerable for you… you should be able to do that for me to.”

“You’re right, baby, and we are so sorry. We’re willing to try.”, Eddie pleaded as he leaned up to grab your hands. “We don’t even have to be in a relationship again or do anything sexual. We can start slow and go from there. We just miss you so much, Y/N. The way you smell, your sense of humor, the way you play with my hair when we’re lying in bed or watching tv.”

“The way you listen to us when we talk even if it’s about work.”, Steve chimes in. “Your cute little laugh and the way you wrap your arms around me like you haven’t seen me in years when it’s only been a few hours.”

“Ah good morning, gentlemen and my hung over child. How are we today?”, your mother teases as she grins your way.

“We’re fine thank you but if you could lower your voice a smidge that would be nice.”, you sass back making her chuckle as both men grin softly.

“Your dad made breakfast if you and your guests are hungry. Just don’t throw it up or you’ll hurt his feelings.”

You smile as you playfully wave her off before turning your attention back to them.

“Do you have to go back home for work or anything?”

“No, ma’am. We’re all yours.”

“Unless you want us to go back home.”, Eddie adds with sad inflection in his voice hoping and praying that you don’t.

“Ok… I’m going to change and then head downstairs. You, um, you should stay for breakfast. Knowing my father, if my mom told him you were staying he probably poisoned something but…I’m sure you’ll be fine.”, you joke as you get up and head towards your closet, tossing them a little wink before collecting some clothes and closing the bathroom door.

####################

@aol19 @paradisepoisons @paleidiot @dashingdeb16

@lilaclazer @joannamuns9n @thwippyparker @emotionaldreamer

@aactuaaltraash @alastorssimp @mygirlchaos @starksbabie @imagine-all-the-imagines @nailbatanddungeon

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judgementdayslittle · 3 days

Note

hi! How do u think the judgment day found out that reader was a little? <3

Oooh good question!

-Well at first, you were just friends with The Judgement Day. Whether you work as a wrestler, backstage (which is my dream job!), or you know them outside of the WWE.

-You were so close, that you knew that Dom was a little and Finn, Rhea, and Damian were his caregivers.

-You were very supportive, of course. You even hang around them when Dom was little and played with him! But as you did, you had such a hard time not slipping.

-Soon enough, you started to see how Damian, Finn, and Rhea treated little Dom. And eventually you got a little bit jealous. You wanted caregivers too!

-But you were far too scared to ask them for such a thing. You thought one little was enough for them, they did seem content with Dom after all. Why would they go through the trouble of taking care of you as well?

-So you just tried to act as big as you could. Though it didn't help when they unknowingly did things that made you feel so small.

-Like Finn ruffling your hair, Rhea calling you cute, and Damian just picking you up with ease!

-Eventually it all just became too much. You saw all three of Dom's caregivers surround him as he took a nap, cooing at how cute he is. You couldn't help but let out a low whimper. One that all three of the caregivers hear.

-Their attention turns towards you, worried something might be wrong. Which their concern only makes you feel even more small.

-"What's the matter hun? Are you okay? Is something wrong?"

-No matter how much you tried, you couldn't hold back. Big tears streamed down your face as you cried.

-"It no fair! I wan' a Mami, Papi and Dada too!" You cried.

-Realization came to the three caregivers faces. They had noticed in the past how you could act a bit childish from time to time. But now that they know that you're a little too, it all just kind of clicked together.

-For a moment, you were scared they were going to kick you out or yell at you. They only need Dom Dom after all, right?

-What happened was the opposite. Rhea pulled you onto her lap and started stroking your hair. Shushing you calmly as she rocked you back and forth.

-"It's okay little one. You're okay, Mami's got you." She said.

-"M-Mami?" You asked innocently, looking up at her with big, teary eyes. Causing her to coo at how cute you are in that moment.

-"Yeah, I want to be your Mami. And Damian can be your Papi and Finn can be your Dada. Right guys?"

-The two of them agreed.

-"But you's already haves Dom." You said.

-"Yes, Dom is our little, but you can be too if you want to, pequeño." Damian said. "Besides, you're just too cute. We could find you another caregiver if you want, but we could treat you the best. Just like how we do with Dom."

-You already knew you didn't want anyone else. You want them, you wanted their love and affection. So you gave him a small smile and quietly said "You's Papi."

-In return, he gave you a wide grin. "That's right bebé, I'm your Papi." He said as he sat next to you and Rhea. "And Rhea's your Mami, and Finn's your Dada. And all of us will be here for you from now on. You have nothing to worry about."

-You felt happy and content after that. But all that crying made you feel so very tired, so like Dom, it was nap time for you.

-Mami fed you a nice, warm bottle of milk. And all three of them tucked you in. Giving you forehead kisses and telling you how much you mean to them.

-When you woke up, you were scared it was all just a dream. But when you saw Mami coming in asking "How did my sweet little baby sleep?", you knew you were in good hands.

#the judgement day #age regression #rhea ripley #dominik mysterio #finn balor #sfw agere #damian priest #imaginary caregivers #damian priest x reader #rhea ripley x reader #finn balor x reader #dominik mysterio x reader

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seulrinnie-rinrin · 2 days

Text

Craving You

SUMMARY | When you accidently send a nude of yourself to Jongho, he can't help but look and start to crave you. The only thing standing in his way: your friendship. PAIRING | Jongho/Reader GENRE | non-idol!Jongho, friends to lovers trope, smut with no plot, protected sex (wrap it up everyone!), fingering, vaginal sex, RATING | Mature LENGTH | 5066 words AUTHOR’S NOTE | I’m such a sucker for the Friends to Lovers Trope lolol.

Jongho didn't mean to look.

But that picture you sent him was just so… You were looking at the camera like you'd never seen it before. Your cheeks were flushed and your skin was glowing in the light, as if it had never been more alive. And the fact that your fingers were grazing the top of your panties…

If that wasn't enough to turn any man's head, then nothing ever would be. He hadn't meant for this to happen—hadn't even intended on seeing it when he took a quick glance at his phone while checking his messages—but there it was, staring back at him, tempting him, teasing him with those dark eyes, and suddenly, he couldn't help but want it.

More than anything, Jongho wanted to see your body moving beneath him. Wanted to know what color you tasted like. What it felt like to touch every inch of you, slowly working his way down from your lips until he found himself between your legs. Then, after giving you everything he had to give, he would do whatever it took to make sure that you never forgot this moment, no matter how hard you tried to push it away.

Forbidden, because you're both supposed to be friends, and also because he should never want to take something that doesn't belong to him. But when he realizes that all of these things are exactly why he wants you so much, it becomes impossible to deny his true feelings for you.

He dropped his phone on the bed beside him and leaned against the headboard, trying desperately to think of something else besides the thought of running his tongue over the hot spot where your clit sat, letting his teeth gently graze its sensitive edges. If he could just get some sleep, maybe by morning, the desire would be gone. Or at least, the temptation. But the second he closed his eyes, all he could see was you: face flushed, thighs spread, red lips parted as he licked his way up from your clit to your mouth. All he could hear was your moans as he pushed his fingers inside of you, pumping them deep into your pussy and moaning as he watched your muscles tighten around them. All he could feel was the warmth radiating off of your naked body as he buried his face between your breasts, inhaling your scent until he had finally made you cum.

This was wrong, so very, very wrong. So, so, wrong. It wouldn't be right for either one of you.

His phone vibrated and he saw a text message from you come through, and though he really shouldn't read it, Jongho had a feeling that if he ignored it, it might not go away. Not that he knew what he would say anyway; all he knew was that he needed to talk to you about this, and he needed to do it now.

So he picked up his phone again and opened the message:

You - OMG Jongho! That picture wasn't meant for you! I swear, I totally meant to send it to Yunho. Please delete?!

His jaw clenched and he closed his eyes tightly. Of course you would have sent it to Yunho. Why wouldn't you? After all, the two of you were hooking up with each other. You told Jongho that it was no strings attached relationship, that Yunho just wanted to be friends with benefits.

But Jongho knew you. He knew that you were crushing on Yunho and had been for a long time. He also knew that the two of you didn't just hook up once or twice. No, you had hooked up a lot. Way more times than he cared to count. The two of you might have been dating, for all Jongho cared. You were lying to yourself if you believed otherwise.

Not that he was mad. Well, actually, yes, he was mad. But not at you. Mostly at himself for getting sucked into this. For allowing himself to fall for someone who had been nothing but his friends for years. But he was tired of fighting this attraction. Tired of pretending that it didn't exist. So, he turned off his phone and tossed it across the room, cursing silently as it hit the wall and bounced onto the floor.

Tomorrow, he decided, he would just ignore it. Ignore you. See if that helped. He hated to admit it, but his feelings for you weren't going anywhere anytime soon. They were there in the pit of his stomach every time you smiled at him, the blush rising in your cheeks whenever he looked at you too long, the way your voice trailed off when he asked you questions, and the small sparkle in your eyes whenever you looked at him like he was the best thing that had ever happened to you. He liked being close to you.

He sighed and picked up his phone, opening his messages and typing out a quick response:

Jongho - Out of sight and out of mind. I deleted it. Don't worry about it.

Then, he turned his phone off and put it back on the nightstand. He tried to fall asleep but the thought of you naked was already ingrained in his brain.

In your defense, you weren't entirely in your right mind when you sent Jongho that picture. You had meant to send it to Yunho but somehow managed to type in the wrong person's name, hitting send before you realized your mistake. It must have been the wine you drank earlier that day. Maybe it was the multiple glasses of wine that you had consumed throughout the night. Whatever the reason, by the time you figured out your error, the message was already sent. There was no taking it back.

And when you got Jongho's message saying that he deleted it, you felt a weight lift off of your shoulders. Just thinking about it made you sigh in relief, and when you woke up in the middle of the night with wet dreams about the two of you fucking, the guilt from sending that picture plagued you for hours.

"Ugh," you groaned, pulling the blankets over your head and ignoring the pounding in your head. "Just shut up."

Your head ached too much to care about your stupid hormones, so you rolled over and let yourself slip back into a restless slumber, hoping that when you woke up tomorrow, you would be able to forget about what you had done last night. Unfortunately, the thought that was playing on repeat in your mind refused to leave you alone, and soon, you were tossing and turning restlessly as images of you and Jongho romping together filled your thoughts.

"Shit!" you swore loudly as you sat up in bed, throwing your pillow to the ground. How could you think of your best friend in that way? You never had thoughts of Jongho that way before. Sure, you enjoyed hanging out with him, and there were days when you wished you could crawl into his lap and spend hours listening to him tell you stories or sing. You enjoyed teasing him mercilessly and getting to witness the smile on his face when you succeeded. But sexual fantasies involving him? Those were completely new territory.

"What the fuck is wrong with me?" you cried, covering your face with your hands. God, you needed to get a grip. Maybe it's the alcohol. Yeah, it had to be the alcohol. Maybe you should call up Yunho and have him just fuck you senseless so that you forget about those fantasies of Jongho. Get it out of your system. Make yourself forget. Surely that would work. Right?

No, that wasn't going to work. Although it was an accident that you sent that nude, you couldn't help but think of what Jongho thought. Did he like it? Did he enjoy the view? Could he imagine what you looked like naked? Were his dreams filled with the two of you, pleasuring each other? Was he jerking off right now thinking about what it would be like to have your pussy wrapped around his-

Nononono. You needed to get a grip. You headed towards the shower, determined to rinse your body clean and pretend that last night never happened.

After a shower and exhausted beyond belief, you went about your day. You met up with the guys, wishing that Jongho wasn't there because you didn't want to crawl into an embarrassing hole. When they suggested that you have a few drinks with them, you gladly agreed, deciding to keep it casual. This was probably a good idea. A little drink here and there would probably take the edge off of those bad thoughts about your best friend.

"Something happened between you two?" Hongjoong asked as he looked over at you and Jongho. The both of you were sitting on opposite ends of the table, avoiding each other's gazes.

"Ya'll acting weird." Mingi muttered, leaning forward on the table. "The best friends aren't even sitting next to each other. Something happened, didn't it?"

"What happened?" San asked next to you, putting an arm around your shoulder. "Are you okay?"

You hesitated for a minute and let out a sigh, leaning to whisper in his ear. "I accidently sent Jongho a nude photo last night."

San froze for a second before dropping his hand from your shoulder and shaking his head in laughter. "No way. You're serious?"

You eyed Jongho, realizing that he got up to use the restroom. "I didn't mean to send it to him. I accidentally typed his name instead of Yunho's."

Hongjoong laughed softly, nodding his head. "Well, damn girl. I guess we know why he was looking so depressed today."

"Hush." You muttered, the rest of the table going into fits of laughter. You hid your face behind your hands, waiting for the laughing to die down before you explained the situation to everyone. When they finished laughing, you spoke. "Listen, this is just an unfortunate accident. He's already deleted it. We just need to get through this week, okay? I'm sure things will calm down after that."

"Yeah, don't worry," Wooyoung said, wiping tears from his eyes. "Things always get better after this."

They nodded their heads and when Jongho returned to the table, he just sat down and resumed talking with the others without acknowledging you.

You knew it would be okay by next week. You always had random fights with Jongho and it was usually resolved by next week. That's what friends did. They argued. They fought. Then, they made up and everything was fine again.

Why couldn't you just give him the benefit of the doubt this time?

Wiping his sweaty palms on his pants, Jongho leaned back in his chair as he watched you joke with the rest of the guys. Your hair was wet, curling slightly under the lights of the bar as you shook your head in amusement. He stared at you for a while, wondering what it would feel like to run his fingers through your hair. To kiss your forehead. To watch you sleep.

And then he snapped out of it.

Looking at you now, you appeared so happy and carefree, despite what had happened earlier. Jongho bit his lip as he stared at you, feeling his heart beat erratically against his chest. What the hell was happening to him? One minute, he had been angry at you and angry at himself for giving in to temptation and wanting you. Now, he couldn't stop staring at you and he didn't know how to act around you anymore.

"Are you going crazy?" Yunho asked him, as they both watched you in an animated conversation with Seonghwa and Yeosang.

"What?" Jongho blinked in surprise, having forgotten that Yunho was there. "No, I'm not going crazy."

"Sure you aren't." Yunho muttered. "Seeing any kind of nude of your best frien-"

"She was supposed to send it to you, you know?" Jongho cut in before his friend could say anything else. "She mixed up her names and sent it to me instead."

"It doesn't matter who she sent it to." Yunho shrugged his shoulders. "It's not like we're dating or anything. She could've sent it to anyone."

Wooyoung sighed. "Jongho, bro. Who cares who sent it to? Y/N isn't dating any of us. You ended up being the recipient. Things happen."

Hongjoong nodded, patting him on the back. "So who cares if you saw a nude picture of your best friend? Why does it bother you?"

"Because..." Jongho trailed off as he frowned, realizing that none of them really understood what he was going through. "I like her."

Hongjoong, Wooyoung and Yunho all exchanged glances before bursting into laughter.

"Well that changes everything." Hongjoong said, clapping his hands together. "So what are you gonna do?"

"About what?" Jongho shot him a confused glance, which caused the rest of them to burst into more laughter.

"Don't be dense," Yunho mumbled, holding his stomach as he wiped tears from his eyes. "Why don't you ask her out? Have a date with her? Show her how much you care?"

"I do care." Jongho replied softly. "A lot."

"But does she?" Wooyoung countered. "Does Y/N like you? Or does she only like you as a friend?"

Hongjoong slapped Wooyoung's arm. "Stop! Don't say that! We're trying to cheer Jongho up here, remember? Don't make it worse."

"Do you think I stand a chance?" Jongho whispered. "Will she actually agree to go out with me?"

Yunho smirked. "As long as you're willing to admit your feelings for her, I'm sure she'll agree to go out with you."

"Really?" Jongho asked hopefully.

Yunho gave him a nod. "I've seen how she looks at you. And hey, she talks about you all the time when we're together. Kind of made me jealous, if I'm being honest."

"I think I may have a shot." Jongho breathed out slowly, relieved.

"Go for it, man." Wooyoung added, smiling at him. "You deserve happiness. If Y/N makes you happy, you gotta grab it."

"We're rooting for you." Yunho smiled as he patted him on the back. "Remember, the worst thing that can happen is rejection."

Jongho nodded his head, understanding exactly what Yunho meant. While he desperately wanted Y/N to say yes, he also worried that she might turn him down. There was no way to prepare for such a thing, especially since they'd been best friends for so long. If Y/N turned him down, he'd hate himself for wanting her so badly, and he'd hate himself for doing something that would cause her pain.

No, he needed to stop worrying.

He glanced over at you again, watching you laugh with the rest of the group. Watching you made his heart flutter and the nerves that had settled in his stomach started to dissolve away. For some reason, seeing you smile and appear happy again made it easier for him to breathe.

Jongho took a deep breath and stood up, making his way over to where you were seated. Seeing you sitting with the rest of the guys, he wondered whether he should sit down or not. After what seemed like forever, Jongho took his seat across from you, his heart beating rapidly against his chest as he took in every detail about you, trying to memorize you.

"Jongho, you wouldn't believe this crazy story that Mingi was telling us." You exclaimed, taking a sip of your beer. "It sounds like something straight out of a soap opera."

"Oh yeah?" Jongho teased. "So, what's this ridiculous plot?"

"Hmm...well, basically..." Mingi began but Jongho drowned out his voice as he hesitantly reached for your hand. Taking your fingers in his own, he looked at you to see your reaction. After several seconds, you didn't pull away, allowing him to hold onto your hand. "The main character and the secondary characters meet and end up falling in love. It's full of drama and emotion and lots of crying and whining."

Jongho grinned, his entire body relaxing at the warmth radiating from your skin. "Is that how love stories normally go?"

"Pretty much." Mingi admitted. "I wish my love life could be like that though. No headaches or misunderstandings. Just love and happiness."

"Me too." Jongho breathed out, squeezing your hand gently.

Mingi, Yeosang, San, and Seonghwa couldn't help but notice the way Jongho was holding your hand. They all noticed the way his eyes kept wandering to yours and the way his expression was almost desperate. Even they couldn't help but wonder what he was thinking. Was he thinking about asking you out?

After several minutes, they gathered into a conversation, leaving you and Jongho out of it. But when they left to get more drinks, leaving the two of you alone, you found yourself leaning towards him, hoping that he would lean in too.

"Jongho?" You whispered softly. He turned his head to stare at you, your gaze locking onto his. "Can I ask you something?"

Jongho swallowed hard, unable to take his eyes off of you. He wanted nothing more than to drag you close and kiss you senseless. So he nodded, trying to find the words to say to you.

"What?"

"Did you...what were you thinking about...when I sent you that picture?" You looked at him, uncertainty in your eyes. He wished that you weren't looking at him with those sad eyes of yours. Those sad eyes made him want to make it all better.

"About what?" Jongho croaked out.

"Last night. When I sent you that picture by accident." You paused, placing your hand over his. "Were you thinking about me?"

Jongho looked down at your hand resting on his and then raised his gaze back up to your face. "Of course I was thinking about you. How could I not?" He placed his other hand over top of yours, intertwining your fingers together. "Why wouldn't I?"

"Because I..." You took a deep breath, as you waited for him to reply. "We're friends and friends don't think of each other like that. Right?"

"Do you still want to be friends?" Jongho asked you, squeezing your hands. "Because I don't want our friendship to change because of this. Not when I...I want more."

"More?" You repeated softly.

"Yeah." Jongho closed his eyes tightly, unsure if you were going to agree to go out with him. "I want us to become more than just friends. After seeing that picture, my mind has been flooded with thoughts of you. Thoughts that friends shouldn't have of each other. Thoughts of kissing you and touching you and..."

He never got to finish speaking once he felt your lips on his. His entire body tingled as your lips pressed against his, causing a fire to burn within him. Without warning, Jongho crushed his mouth against yours, forcing your lips apart and claiming your lips with his own. His heart was racing, his mind consumed by the need to kiss you again. To feel your soft lips against his own, to feel the warmth of your body pressed against his. To feel the sparks that he knew were running between you.

"Yeah..." You breathed out. "I've had those thoughts too...of kissing you and touching you and..." Your voice drifted off, as Jongho captured your lips with his again. Your hands ran up his arms, sending chills throughout his body.

"God, my eyes. My poor eyes!" You heard Wooyoung gasp behind you. "Go get a room already!"

"Shut up!" You laughed loudly, pulling away from Jongho. Jongho let out a laugh, pulling you up from your seat so he could wrap his arms around you.

"Should we...go to my place now?" He whispered into your ear.

"Yes." You gasped.

"Ohhhh." San let out a laugh. "I knew this was going to happen."

Yeosang nodded next to him. "Ahhhh, young love. Too cute."

"Have fun, stay safe and use protection." Hongjoong called out, earning another round of laughter.

"Just shut up and leave us alone." You yelled back, giving them all a wave.

"Bye!" Mingi shouted, raising his glass in the air. "See you later!"

They all waved goodbye as you and Jongho hurried out of the lounge, weaving your way through the crowd. As soon as the doors closed behind you, Jongho wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close. He kissed you one more time before leading you out of the parking lot, heading towards his apartment.

"Home sweet home." He sighed happily, leading you inside and closing the door behind him. He snaked his arm around your waist, pulling you close to him. "So where were we?"

"Kissing..." You breathed out, staring into his dark brown eyes.

Jongho chuckled, bringing his lips closer to yours. His entire body tingled at the mere thought of kissing you again. Of feeling your lips on his. Feeling the heat of your body pressed against his own. It was all he ever wanted. All he ever dreamed about. All he ever hoped for.

His lips brushed against yours lightly, barely grazing your mouth with his. He lingered there for several seconds before drawing back slightly.

"What thoughts did you have of me?" You ask him, breaking the silence.

Jongho smiled, reaching his free hand up to brush a strand of hair behind your ear. "Good ones." He whispered, trailing his finger along your cheek. "Thoughts of you lying naked in bed, letting me explore every inch of your body."

"And what else?" You purred, pushing your body against him.

"Ohhh..." Jongho moaned softly. "Those naughty thoughts of mine involve..."

He trailed off as you brought your hand up to his mouth, planting light kisses against his palm.

"Tell me." You breathed out, closing your eyes. "Please."

"I was thinking about what it would be like having you underneath me." He let out. "I was thinking about how good it would feel to feel your soft skin under my fingertips. How good it would feel to have you pressing against me, begging me to fill you with my cock. How hot and wet your pussy would be and how amazing it would feel to make you come."

"Yes." You moaned, grinding against him.

"Ohhh." Jongho groaned, pressing his lips against yours again. "I want you so bad."

You shivered, breaking away from his lips. "Me too. So much." You bit your lip. "I can't wait any longer."

Jongho nodded, moving towards his bedroom, leading you along the way. "Well, let's hurry up and do something about that." He murmured, pulling you closer to him as he pushed open the door.

As soon as you entered the bedroom, Jongho wrapped his arms around you, trapping you against the wall. Leaning forward, he brought his lips back to yours, crushing his mouth against yours roughly. Your knees buckled slightly as he pressed himself against you, wrapping his arms tightly around you. Jongho broke away from your kiss long enough to rip your shirt open, throwing it aside.

"I can't wait anymore either." He breathed out. "I need to touch you. Need to feel your body pressed against mine. Want to taste your lips again."

Jongho's lips trailed down your neck, his teeth grazing your skin before biting down gently. Your fingers dug into his shoulders as his mouth travelled downwards, nipping and sucking along your collarbone. His lips pressed harder against your skin, making your entire body tingle.

"God..." You moaned out. "Jongho..."

"Need to feel you underneath me." Jongho continued, bringing his hands up to cup your breasts. "God...you feel so fucking good against me."

"Don't stop." You breathed out.

He smiled as he reached his hands down to unhook your bra, throwing it aside. As soon as your breasts came into view, Jongho's lips immediately latched onto your nipple.

He sucked on your nipple gently, eliciting a moan from you. As he did this, he brought his hand up to caress your other breast. As he played with your nipples, you began to feel a familiar ache building within you. With a groan, you dug your nails into his shoulder blades.

"Are you okay?" Jongho asked you, worried about your reaction.

"Y-yeah." You answered quickly, biting your lip as your body became even more sensitive. "Just...just feels so good."

Jongho nodded, continuing to suckle on your breast while massaging your other one. His fingers moved across your chest, teasing the sides of your breast, slowly working their way up until they reached your chin. With a slight flick of his wrist, he tilted your head up towards him.

With one quick motion, he brought his lips to meet yours, his tongue darting past your lips to dance with yours. His fingers intertwined with yours, keeping them both locked in place as he began to trail his fingers down your body. One hand slid down to your stomach, tickling you softly.

The other hand found its way back up to your breast, pinching your nipple lightly as his thumb rolled it between his fingers. Your whole body tingled at the feeling of pleasure coursing through you.

Jongho pulled back slightly, taking a deep breath. "Do you want me to stop?" He asked you softly.

"No." You shook your head. "Don't stop."

He nodded, closing his eyes briefly before pulling his hand away. Reaching down, he slid your pants off your hips, allowing them to fall to the floor. "Like this?" He breathed out, leaning down to capture your lips with his once again.

You let out a moan as his fingers slipped between your legs, stroking you gently as his lips traveled down your neck. Once his lips met your chest, he nibbled on your skin lightly. You felt your body tighten slightly at the touch of his tongue as it traced your clavicle.

"God..." You breathed out, pushing yourself closer to him.

"Does it feel good?" He asked you, nibbling on your earlobe.

"Ohhh...so good." You moaned, running your fingers through his hair. "Fuck...please don't stop."

"Don't worry." Jongho promised, returning his attention to your neck. "This is just getting started."

With that said, Jongho slowly lifted his shirt over his head, tossing it aside. He then took his boxers off, leaving himself completely naked in front of you. He stood straight, facing you as you watched him intently. When he saw that you were looking at him, he placed his hands on your cheeks, tilting your face up towards his. His eyes bore into yours as he leaned down, capturing your lips with his once again. His fingers trailed down your cheek, cupping your jaw as he pulled you closer to him.

Once your lips parted, Jongho wasted no time deepening the kiss. Your fingers tangled themselves in his hair as he forced his tongue into your mouth. With each passing second, your passion grew, causing you to grab hold of his arms, gripping them tightly as he thrust his tongue against yours. Your entire body was now tingling with desire, begging for release.

Jongho broke away from the kiss, panting heavily as he looked into your eyes. He ran his hands down your thighs, parting them and then grabbing one of the condoms from his nightstand drawer. Opening the package, he sheathed himself with ease, preparing himself to enter you.

"Are you ready?" He breathed out.

"Mmm..." You breathed out. "Yes...please."

"Good." He replied before pressing his lips to yours once again.

With one final glance into your eyes, Jongho lowered himself down, positioning himself between your legs. He raised himself up slightly, pausing for a moment as he searched your eyes. Your fingers twined themselves into his hair as you waited patiently for him to move. After a few moments, he began to slide into you. Each thrust sent waves of pleasure throughout your body.

"Ahhh...." You moaned loudly, pressing your forehead against his shoulder.

Jongho hummed as he continued to thrust into you. Every movement caused a new wave of sensation to wash over you. You had never felt anything quite like it. You couldn't believe how incredible it felt. He brought his lips back to your ear, whispering softly.

"You feel so good." He moaned. "So damn good."

Your legs tightened around his hips as he began to speed up his movements. His lips grazed your ear, his warm breath brushing against your skin. "Feels good, doesn't it?" He whispered, causing you to moan again.

"Jongho...oh god..." You breathed out, digging your fingernails into his shoulders.

Jongho closed his eyes, feeling the heat radiating from your body. He knew how badly you needed him. He knew that you were dying to come. And he could tell by the noises escaping your throat that you were close to climaxing. All he had to do was continue to pump his hips, slowly increasing the pace. In a matter of seconds, he would drive you over the edge. That thought alone made him harder than ever.

In response to the sound of his name coming from your lips, Jongho picked up the pace even further, pressing his lips firmly against your ear.

"Come for me, baby." He growled out, pushing even deeper into you. "Come hard for me."

With those words, Jongho's hips began to slam into you faster and faster. Soon enough, he felt your walls clamp down around his cock, holding him there, preventing him from pulling out. With another moan, he exploded inside of you, filling the condom with his semen. Once he finished, he pulled out of you, breathing heavily. Your eyes remained fixed on him, watching him as he pulled the used condom off of his cock. He tossed it to the side before lowering himself to the mattress beside you.

You flipped him over, moving to straddle him as you kissed him deeply. As you did this, you could feel his hardening cock beneath you. You smirked, bringing your lips back to his ear.

"Guess we're not done yet." You whispered seductively. "I'll let you fuck me raw if you keep going."

With a grin, Jongho grabbed your ass, squeezing it tightly as he slid into you. "Whatever you want, baby. Anything you want."

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