#i...uh...i got a little too involved with this one

[wafflefries13]

Go For It, Jamil!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It’s a vegetable.” 

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

“Sure.”  

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Yup. There was the headache coming. 

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

Kalim pouted. “Aww, why not?” 

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

“What? Of course you do!” 

“I promise I don’t.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“She-what-Where did you hear that?” 

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

“I don’t,” Jamil said firmly. 

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

“I heard that.” 

*

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

*

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

“Jamil!” 

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

“Hi,” She said, coming up to him. 

“Did you need something?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Omar!” Someone hissed. “Be careful!” 

“Sorry, Babkak,” A voice squeaked back. 

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

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

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

“What mood?” “For your confession!” 

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

“Jamil?”  

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

“Something going on?” She asked. 

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

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

Jamil felt his face burn with embarrassment. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Rooting for me?” 

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

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

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

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

*

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Knew?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hey,” She said. “You okay?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Wait!” 

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

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

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

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

“Oh, um,” Jamil stuttred. 

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

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

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

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

Jamil rolled his eyes. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Go, Jamil, go!” She cheered. 

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

*

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

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

Jamil resisted the urge to punch him. 

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

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

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

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

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

“Girl troubles, maybe?” Another snickered. 

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

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

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

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

“Hello, sir!” Omar chirped. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Lgeimat!” Jamil shouted. 

She blinked at him. “Sorry?” 

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

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

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

*

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

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

Jamil sighed in response. “Long day.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sweet?” 

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

Jamil stood. “Kalim, I’m not-” 

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

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

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

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

“Yes, you are!” 

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

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

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

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

“Kalim, I can’t-”

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

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

*

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No, really, I-” 

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

Oh no. Oh no. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

*

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jamil smirked. “It’s been two days.” 

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

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

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

*

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

[inuhalfdemon]

No One Can Know...(20/22)

Word Count: 6,269 Words

Rating: Explicit (SMUT + Violence)

"You're a story that I hoped I'd never have to tell.

You're a lesson that I wish I'd never learned so well.

After all my years of giving up and letting go,

All I wanted was to give you what you've never known.

I know now, you can only hurt me 'cause I let you get to know me so well.

I know now, I love you 'cause only you can turn my Heaven to Hell.

I know now, I want out from under your spell."

- The Birthday Massacre

It only made sense that the radio demon and the television demon would find ways to collaborate with each other – in those earlier days. Both Sinners were of a medium variety; sharing a very specific niche. By utilizing each other’s strengths, they quickly learned that whatever power they found and obtained for themselves; it could be gathered in an exponentially greater amount when their abilities were combined.

Vox had the visuals and Alastor had the audio. A perfect combination that resulted in a greatly beneficial investment to both parties and an incredible form of entertainment.

For decades; both demons worked together and maintained a very lucrative business for themselves. Their relationship remained strictly business as they continued to respect each other’s own professions; own territories and contracts. But, like with many things; time moved forward, there was change and slowly – they both began to become more involved in each other’s lives.

“Ok, out with it – because I really want to know…” Vox slammed his drink down; splashing beer onto the bar counter. “Boys? Girls? What?”

Alastor swiveled his head over. “Hm? What?”

“You know what!” Vox growled at him; wagging a finger in Alastor’s face. “Boys or girls, I wanna know!”

They both had gone out drinking; indulging themselves a little too much after another fantastically productive week.

“No.” Alastor said simply, sipping from his drink.

“No, you won’t tell me!?” Vox nearly roared back at him; his screen flushed red from the effects of the alcohol.

“Just…no.” Alastor shrugged. “I find them all quite…unexciting.”

“You-you what!?” Vox and leaned in to take another drink and ended up spitting it all over onto the counter. “How!?”

Alastor shrugged again; smiling dopily back at him.

“No fucking way – uh uh – I don’t believe you.” Vox told him; blearily. “You are such a…fucking liar. You know what – prove it! I wanna see it for myself.”

“If you must.” Alastor drunkenly agreed.

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

“How are you not hard right now!?”  Vox was yelling at Alastor within the explicit sex club.

Alastor was leaned back, perfectly at ease, comfortable; the very picture of unperturbed; sipping at a cosmopolitan.

Vox had paid good money for them both to be treated to the most visual of erotic displays - from both men and women; all manner of demons - and Alastor had sat through each one – never blinking an eye; going on chattily about work, politics, Cannibal Town, the fucking weather… clearly disinterested and not the least bit aroused.

Vox, meanwhile, had sported himself an erection for nearly every dance; having to excuse himself to the men’s room several times.

“I told you.” Alastor sang back at him; smiling joyfully.

“What is fucking wrong with you?”  Vox glared at him and Alastor actually started giggling.

“Fuck…I’m wasted. Let’s get out of here.” Vox threw down some bills for a tip and they left.

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

“You know…” Vox began; trying to keep his thoughts straight and from slurring his words too badly. “That whole sex club thing that that guy Valentino’s got going isn’t really a bad idea.”

He and Alastor were shuffling their way out of the club, both feeling dizzy and giddy from their night spent out.

“Ugh…please.” Alastor stuck out his tongue; making an exaggeratively disgusted look despite his smile.

“Just because you got your wires crossed!” Vox shoved him. “Some people actually really enjoy the sex stuff, you fucker.”

Alastor cackled and Vox sighed.

“I’m just saying…the guy knows what he’s doing. Give him the right setup, the right equipment, the right people…he could really make and sell some fucking good porn.”

“Not this again.” Alastor snarled.  

“Seriously, Alastor.” Vox was getting excited. “This guy could be a big benefit to what we’ve already got rolling out for entertainment!”

“Nope…I don’t like him.” Alastor was shaking his head; stumbling a little. “I don’t like him, I don’t like what he does.”

“You’ve hardly talked to him! How do you know you don’t like him!?”

“He fucking uses the people that work for you him, Vox.” Alastor hissed. “He controls them with his powers – his abilities - he takes away all of their free agency.”

“Is it really so different from what you and I already do? With the video and the radio stuff…c’mon?”

“YES!” Alastor yelled; becoming both angry and passionate now. “What we do….it’s suggestive, it’s manipulative: cold and calculating. We find the parts in people that make them weak, make them susceptible…what Valentino does…it’s force.”

“Uh huh…clearly different.” Vox rolled his eyes, agitated.

“I’m not having this conversation with you again, Vox.” Alastor sighed. “You can jump onto a wagon with him if you want but as soon as you do, I’m out.”

“You are so fucking stubborn.” Vox hissed.

“Yeah, well…one of us has got to have their standards.” Alastor smirked back at him.  “Fuck…it’s late. I’m going to head for home. See you some time later tomorrow?”

“Yeah…I’ll catch up with you later.”

Alastor nodded; smiling before he drifted off into the dark.

Vox sighed, shuffling the last half of the block to his apartment. “…the guy is such a fucking prick, sometimes…” He mumbled to himself.

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

It started as a joke amongst friends; the flirting.

Vox initiated it, of course. He liked getting under Alastor’s skin and when he found that some jokes actually landed and got the guy flustered, it gave him all the more reason to continue with it. Alastor – never one to be beaten in any game – saw that Vox’s teasing wasn’t going away so he found ways to insert his own blush-inducing quips and snippets.

They flirted together with casually placed; subtle innuendos; suggestive ideas or possibilities between them that invoked hilarity and laughter. As time went on; the jokes became less subtle, less suggestive; more explicit in their nature and sometimes, less funny.

The problem with this though is that given enough time; enough history…feelings change and jokes can become less jokes and more: cleverly placed japes made to ‘test the waters’ or to pinpoint for any hint of actual possibilities; at least to some.

Years after this development; Alastor still flirted with Vox as a joke. Vox did not. Vox had gotten comfortable with Alastor and he was starting to see possibilities in Alastor that went beyond just having him as a business partner.

Alastor was very different from one you would expect to be an Overlord in Hell. He was good at what he did; he could wield awesome power, string in souls like nobody’s business and he had a sweet tooth for the violence; the blood and the gore that came with that territory, but he also: was incredibly respectful – generous even - to those he worked closely with, he was resourceful, he was dependable, he fiercely protected the things and the ones he cherished most and he was incredibly and undeniably hot. 

Vox never was good at relationships; there was always some miscommunication or lack of something vital that deteriorated any coupling he ever attempted with anyone – and all usually fairly quickly. The business deal he had struck with Alastor had lasted longer than any relationship Vox could have ever hoped to. If he and Alastor could form a working relationship; one that remained intact for as long as it had and one that kept both parties mutually benefited and satisfied…then what possibilities were they missing by not pursuing something…more? 

Alastor really didn’t like talking about sex but Vox so far had gleaned that Alastor could get it up; he just rarely found the inspiration or motivation to do so. What traditionally turned other people on…it didn’t work for him. Vox was tolerant of this to a point but he also suspected Alastor avoided trying sex; avoided trying to find ways that he might enjoy it. Maybe, if Vox convinced Alastor to pursue…something…with him; they could explore that more together.

Vox’s flirting became something else and it didn’t take long for Alastor to pick up on the difference; to put two-and-two together. A part of Alastor may have enjoyed it…stringing Vox along; feeling his ego inflate by the pining and the wanting that ultimately would lead Vox to absolutely nothing. Over the years though, Alastor had developed a fondness for Vox – developed an authentic friendship with the man. He could only say the same for one other Overlord; and very few others.

Alastor didn’t just form those types of relationships on a whim. If he felt anything for Vox; it was because Vox was important to him in some way. Maybe he built this fondness he held for Vox upon how similar they both were; both in personality and in their pursuits, or maybe he just held Vox in such a respectable, high regard as an Overlord over Hell that he could collaborate work and interests with. No matter the reasoning; Alastor was reluctant, but he also didn’t have it in him to just push Vox away.

“You’re here late…I saw the light from the office on from my apartment. Is something wrong?” Vox asked.

“No. I just came in to get some work done.” Alastor told him; irritated.

“It can’t wait until tomorrow?” Vox asked him; looking at Alastor with open concern.

Alastor’s ears leant back and he groaned; leaning himself back in his chair and rubbing at his eyes. He was irritable, he was uncomfortable, he was…he was in a breakthrough rut. He had hoped to put off having to address it until the weekend; it was Thursday night…if he could make it through one more night, one more day…

He had made it a point to never discuss his ruts with Vox.  

“Do you want to go and get a drink?” Vox asked him.

“It’s fucking late, Vox. No, I don’t want to go out to a bar.” Alastor snapped.

“Do you want to come over for a drink then?” Vox offered.

“What is it with you!?” Alastor hissed, standing up from the chair and glaring at Vox. “I’m obviously trying to get shit done. Now, would you very kindly….leave!?”

Vox just might have; but he had noticed the movement in Alastor’s ears. Alastor very rarely let his ears tell a story; very rarely let them budge from the stiff and straight-at-attention position he kept them in.

“No.” Vox told him.

“No!?” Alastor hissed again.

“No.” Vox repeated. “Something’s up with you. Something’s wrong. I’m not just going to walk away and pretend that I don’t see it, Alastor.”

“Why the fuck would you care?” Alastor growled at him.

“Why the fuck wouldn’t I care?” Vox demanded, cooly. “We’ve been business partners for ages. Hell, we’ve been friends for ages. I know I’m not privy to every little thing that goes on in your life, Alastor, but I’d like to think that I can recognize when something’s off. I want to help.”

“I’m sure you fucking would…” Alastor said, lowly.

“Excuse me?” Vox’s voice was rising; he was getting sick of the temper. “You wanna tell me what the fuck that-“

Alastor was on him in a second; grabbing him by the collar; lifting him and throwing him down hard on top of the desk. Vox gasped. Alastor had him pinned on his back; clawed hand wrapped around his throat. Alastor’s eyes were wide; insane – his smile stretched tight and twitching across his face. He stepped between Vox’s legs; pressing his erection heavily into the TV man’s thigh.

“You really want to help me, Voxy?” Alastor snarled. “You really want to help me with this!”

Alastor jutted his hip; thrusting his hard length into Vox’s leg for emphasis.

Vox’s eyes widened. Holy shit…

“You want to see me fucking lose control?” Alastor continued, eyes flaring red. “You want me to fucking rip you apart!?” 

Vox erupted into laughter; his body absolutely shaking in his guffawing.

“You think this is funny!?” Alastor hissed lower at him; his grip tightening around Vox’s neck.

“YES!” Vox shouted; unable to stop his raucous outburst.

Alastor’s eye narrowed. “Pray tell…”

“Your fucking pissed off because you’re feeling randy!?” Vox broke out again into snickers. “Unbelievable!”

Alastor’s ears flattened; he leant in – about to say something when Vox’s hands were moving.

“Do you know how long I’ve wanted to do this for you?” Vox asked him, softly – his fingers working at the clasps to Alastor’s dress pants. Vox reached between them; sliding a hand into Alastor’s loosened waistband and pulling his swollen and engorged length out.

“Jesus…this thing is throbbing.” Vox smirked up at Alastor; his neck still clenched between Alastor’s clawed fingers. “When’s the last time anyone’s touched you like this?”

Gasping at the contact, Alastor’s head involuntarily leant back; feeling an incredible and pleasurable relief.

“C’mon, then.” Vox encouraged him; his hand slowly starting to pump Alastor’s penis.

Alastor thrust himself forward; hand still tightly clenched around Vox’s neck as his hips jutted against the TV man’s lower torso – into Vox’s hand.

Alastor’s antlers were stretching crazily outward.

Vox tightened his grip; feeling Alastor’s member already curving tightly into his fingers – feeling the touch of pre-cum on his wrist. Vox gripped Alastor’s shoulder with his other hand; lifting his pelvis to instill more friction against Alastor’s movements.

Alastor’s hand clenched tighter and the Vox clenched his teeth.

Fuck! Now I’m hard now…

Vox tilted his pelvis even more; feeling Alastor’s momentum rubbing against him.

Alastor gasped; his penis tightened, curving more – he thrust himself heavily forward once, twice – then he released; his cum spilling through Vox’s fingers, smearing onto his lower jacket and pants. Shaking, Alastor released Vox’s neck – stepping back and feeling dizzy.

Vox sat up; a stupid smile stretched across the screen that was his face.

“Ah, fuck…” Alastor groaned; moving himself back into his pants and adjusting himself the best that he could. “Ugh...” He swiped a hand down across his face. “I guess…let’s go for that drink at your place and I’ll…I’ll return the favor.”

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

Alastor – true to his word – returned the favor and then some.

When Vox woke up beside him in his bed the next morning; the TV demon was still reeling from the night of full-on fucking that they had had.

Well, fuck me side-ways…the guy can bone!

Vox shifted in bed; feeling deliciously sore from their nighttime antics.

Turning his head; he looked at Alastor – watching the demon sleep soundly beside him. How can a guy that did all of that last night have zero interest in sex. Vox could not make sense of it. Watching Alastor; stretched languidly out on his back – eyes closed and chest moving up and down in rhythmic breathing; Vox realized he wanted more mornings like this one. Even after last night though; they weren’t really a guarantee.  

Perhaps…maybe some insurance.

Carefully, Vox lifted a wire – sliding it smoothly over to where Alastor laid stretched out and asleep; the end of it softly connecting to the radio demon’s skin.

Now…just to fire the right nerve endings; just a touch – BINGO!

Alastor had shifted in his sleep and when he did there was a clearly pointed tent in the bed covers over which his hips rested. Vox carefully slid the wire back; anxious for Alastor to wake up and find that he was already very much aroused and ready for another round.

Clearly uncomfortable; Alastor shifted some more before waking up. Sitting himself up, he blinked blurrily; looking around him and wondering where he was - how in the Hell he got there.

“Good morning.” Vox told him, leaning back and smiling wickedly.

“Ah, fuck…” Alastor blinked. “No…we didn’t….” He suddenly remembered. “Nope…we did.” He groaned, stretching out his back. “What time is it?”

“Bone-o-clock.” Vox clucked his tongue; eyes wandering to the covers over Alastor’s legs.

“Heh, funny.” Alastor told him, dryly – sliding out from the bed.

“Wha- Where are you going!?” Vox asked, confused.

“I’m getting dressed!” Alastor told him, bending down and reaching for his clothes. “We’ve still got stuff we need to today!”

“But, you- You’ve got – You-“ Vox was tripping all over his words. “But, your boner!?”

“It will go down!” Alastor snapped back at him. “Where’s my bowtie!?”

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

“You know that Val and I…we’re on and off, right?” Vox asked.

“Yeah, I knew that.” Alastor told him; fiddling at a speaker.

“Well…should I talk to Val or…?” Vox waited, then when Alastor said nothing he continued. “I mean, I don’t want it to become a problem, you know…for us.”

“Why would I care about something like that, Vox?” Alastor sighed, setting the speaker down and looking around for the right cord that he needed. “I didn’t care before…do what you want with your free time.”

“I just didn’t know if you wanted something more…committed.” Vox explained.

Alastor stopped what he was doing; leaning back and swiping a hand across his face.

“Vox…I just don’t know that I’m exactly what you are looking for in…a partner.” Alastor told him, honestly.

“I think your everything I’ve been looking for…Alastor.” Vox said, quietly.

“Look, I’m not saying…no…I just.” Alastor sighed again. “I just have never tried something like this before; it’s not something I’ve ever really wanted – I’m usually too focused on work, I don’t like the sex –“

“But, you liked our sex.” Vox smirked.

“Yes…” Alastor admitted. “I did, but I’m just not sure if – if what I have to give to you, Vox, if it’s enough.”

Vox stared at him; saying nothing.

“Let’s just, let’s see where it goes, ok. You don’t have to make any big changes, I have no expectations at present…I’m not a personal fan of Valentino’s but -funny enough - I can’t get STD’s as an Overlord of Hell, so…” Alastor waved his hand; signaling he was done having this conversation.

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

A long day of work led to a night of laughter and drinking. Laughter and drinking led to both Alastor and Vox feeling giddy and fantastically buzzed which led to them both being in bed.

Vox pulled Alastor with him onto the mattress and Alastor readily joined him. Settling himself in, Alastor set to work at leaving a colorful love mark against Vox’s dark skin – placed just below the collar bone. They both spent some time there; winding each other up before Alastor’s antlers started to lengthen – branching out.

Sucking at Vox’s skin, Alastor grazed the mark he had made with a sharpened tooth, piercing the skin. Vox hissed in pleasure at the stinging cut. Feeling Alastor lapping at the drops of oozing blood, he arched his back - reaching for Alastor’s antler.

Alastor caught the movement of Vox’s arm and hand in his peripheral and suddenly he tensed – flinching back. Vox immediately paused; his hand raised and holding nothing.

Alastor quickly processed his own knee-jerk reaction; eyes widening.

“What-?” Vox started to ask him.

“I need a minute…” Alastor untangled himself from Vox; sliding away.

…

Outside, Alastor leant against the second story railing – smoking a cigarette; dressed in only his boxers.

He thought about how he would be having another one of his ruts coming around soon and he’d have to make sure Vox made plans for a weekend with Valentino… Alastor would do what he always did now and find his satisfaction from other outlets. Thank god for Rosie…and all of her usefully discreet resources.

“It’s worse than I thought.” Vox commented; sliding the glass door to the patio and stepping out with him – dressed in his own set of boxers.

“What?” Alastor asked him; blowing out smoke.

“You’re smoking…that’s never a good sign.” Vox smirked; leaning against the railing beside him.

“I smoke!” Alastor gave him an indignant look.

“Yeah…when something is actually bothering you. The last time I saw you with one of those was when that tech group was jamming up your radio frequencies. It took us weeks to track them down and get that mess all sorted…that was ages ago.” Vox was remembering.

“Hmph.” Alastor pretended to ignore him; pulling in a deep drag.

Vox reached out and Alastor passed him the stick. Tilting his head; Vox held the cigarette to his screen – taking in a long and slow inhale. He passed it back to Alastor; holding the smoke in his lungs for a moment before slowly releasing it out his mouth.

“So…you going to tell me what the fuck that was about back there?” Vox asked him.

“I don’t really want to talk about it.” Alastor said; lifting the cigarette back to his lips.

“Yeah, no shit.” Vox smirked.

“It was just a reflex.”

“Funny, I don’t remember you minding me grabbing hold of an antler before.” 

“It wasn’t that, I-“ Alastor sighed. “It’s just my past coming back to haunt me, I guess.”

Vox snorted. “Well, that’s fucking vague as shit.”

“I…killed someone.” Alastor said, quietly.

“Haven’t you killed a lot of someone’s?”

“Not like this…I-“ Alastor’s fingers clenched around the railing. “We were…it was intimate…and I lost control.”

 “Wow….Alastor, I’m sorry.” Vox told him; Alastor turned at that. “I mean…oof…but, that’s kind of hot.”

Alastor shoved him with a hand, clenching the cigarette between his teeth. “It’s not funny you jackass.”

Laughing, Vox deftly caught him by the wrist. Holding it, he told Alastor: “You’re right. It’s not, and I know it’s not because it’s obviously something that is still very deeply troubling you. But, we’re in Hell, Alastor.” 

Alastor turned his head away; feeling sure that he already knew what Vox meant to say.

Vox continued. “We’re all here for a reason. Everyone in this godforsaken shit-hole with us has made their fair share of fucked-up mistakes. Maybe grant yourself some mercy and stop punishing yourself so much.”

Alastor looked at him again and he saw that Vox really and truly meant that.

His ears leant back; and Alastor said nothing. 

“Now,” Vox reached for the cigarette – taking it from Alastor’s mouth and flicking it over the railing. “I believe we were in the middle of something.”  

Vox offered him his hand.

Taking it, Alastor went with him – following him back into the bedroom.

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

If things were on and off again between Vox and Val; things with Alastor were – mostly…well, were off.

Not that Alastor completely ignored Vox; they still worked well together, and they still went out drinking and enjoyed spending time together but Alastor never really wanted to do anything…intimate. Not usually. At least, not in the ways that Vox did. He didn’t want to kiss, he didn’t want to make-out, he didn’t want to fondle each other in the bedroom every night or in the taxi going home – the fucker didn’t even want to hold hands.

Every once in a blue moon; Alastor would get some random itch and Vox would happily scratch it for him.

Years and years went by, and Vox thanked Satan that Alastor really didn’t seem to care that he was seeing Valentino on the side. Vox was itchy all the god-damned time and he wasn’t finding any relief unless it was by Val.

Vox wanted to understand. Vox wanted to be patient. He really did, but this…this was so irritatingly one-sided; he didn’t know what to fucking do anymore.

“Ugh…I don’t know, Val. The guy just really frustrates me.”

“Hmm…no kidding.” Valentino replied, bored.

They were lying together in Valention’s bed; both passing a joint and shooting the shit after a rather rough round of fucking.

“I’m sorry…I’m sure you’re tired of me venting to you about it.” Vox sighed.

“Oh, contraire. I love getting to hear about your on-going tragedies in paradise.” Valentino chuckled. “But, I wonder…have you tried extracting what you want from him?”

“How do you mean?”

“You’re convinced that he has feelings for you…that he won’t admit them to you or himself; why not use some of those oh-so-special powers of hypnosis you employ on others to get what you want from your radio demon?” Val asked him; pulling in a long drag from the joint – letting pink-tinged smoke out from his mouth to curl and swirl around them.

“I’ve…never tried that on him before.” Vox admitted, realizing that he never really thought or dared to.

Valentino chuckled. “It could be worth your while.”

“Yeah, or it could blow up right in my fucking face.” Vox told him. “He might not like it…”

“It’s not as bad as everyone thinks, come here.” Valentino pulled Vox to him. Taking another deep drag from the joint; Valentino held the smoke in his lungs then pressing his lips to Vox’s screen – he blew the smoke into Vox’s nose and mouth.

Vox felt light-headed but euphoric. He blinked his eyes; shaking his head.

“Now tell me…” Valentino’s eyes glowed in the smoke-filled room. “What are your deepest, most darkest desires…Voxy?”

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Alastor realized that he hadn’t been very fair to Vox.

He had spent years…not really pushing him away but encouraging him to walk away.

It wasn’t Vox’s fault that Alastor didn’t find anything good in sex or intimacy with others but…Alastor had enjoyed his time with Vox. Sleeping with Vox was…much easier than it had been with anyone else. Vox let him take control; let him set the pace and things never got nearly as clumsy or clunky as Alastor imagined that they might have been. When Vox did his part; he was sure and confident in his administrations and Alastor ended the night feeling satiated and satisfied; something that rarely happened.

It scared Alastor, but Vox clearly…cared…about him; actually wanted something with him. He hadn’t known that feeling often; living or dead.

Maybe it was time for a change. Maybe Alastor could let go, give in and just be with someone.

His rut – a true rut – was coming on; he could already feel the hormones skittering through his system. This time he wouldn’t avoid it; this time he wouldn’t even seek out other outlets. He would tell Vox about his ruts - he would spend his this one entirely with Vox - and when it was over, he would really and truly try to be something more for him.

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

“Why did I know you would be here?” Vox asked Alastor. “It’s late…”

“I know, but I think I figured out how to re-route the system – channel your power into multiple stations…if you help me, this will be done in 20 minutes.” Alastor was untwisting some wires; tracing the cords back to their sources.

“I don’t really want to do this tonight…can we please just go home? We can get it sorted in the morning.”

“We can’t keep all your reserve power stored here into this one unit, Vox.” Alastor was telling him, “It leaves you too vulnerable...”  

All of my power…it’s here. 

“I’d really rather you put that focus toward…other things.” Vox told him, going over to Alastor. He leaned over Alastor’s back; wrapping his arms around the radio demon’s waist.

Alastor shot him a smirk over his shoulder.

“And, I’d rather you focused on anything else – but, here we are.” Alastor gave him a light shove. “Now, seriously. Help me with this.”

Vox stepped back; a dark look crossing his face and he sighed.

A series of wires shot out from a wall of modems and servers that dominated the back wall of their business suite; wrapping around Alastor and pulling him backward.

Alastor was pulled roughly against the buzzing and flashing tech; the wires forming tight wraps of bundles around his arms, torso and legs.

“The fuck!? Vox!?”

“You know, Alastor…you can be very tiresome sometimes.” Vox walked slowly toward him. “So resistant to change…so resistant to progress.”

“Cut the shit, Vox! This isn’t funny. Let me go!” Alastor was fuming.

 “Why should I?” Vox tilted his head.

“I’m…uncomfortable.” Alastor growled.

“Well, let me do something to make you more comfortable.”

Two wires quickly slid from Vox before quickly shooting toward Alastor; their ends connecting smoothly to either side of his neck. The wires glowed a vibrant blue and suddenly Alastor felt a jolt of pleasure shooting down his spine; pooling deep into his abdomen – heating his groin.

Alastor gasped; his pupils dilating widely.

“Fucking stop it!” Alastor yelled.

Vox left the wires; looking hard at Alastor.

“I was just at Val’s…he showed me something…I’d very much like to show you.”

Alastor jerked his head to the side; his breathing becoming heavy from arousal and stress.

“Nothing good can ever come from Valentino.” Alastor spat and he struggled against the cords that were holding him.

Fuck….he’s somehow suppressing my power… I can’t even use my shadow. Alastor realized and a cold, sharp panic sunk deep into his chest.

Vox’s stimuli thrummed through his body and he was feeling an ominous twitching between his legs.

“You want to fucking rape me now, is that it!?” Alastor growled. “You think that is wise!?

“I won’t be taking anything from you that you won’t be willing to give, Alastor…” Vox stepped closer. “I’ll only touch you when you ask me to…Hell, you might even be begging me to.”

Alastor snarled.

“It’s time you and I were honest with each other, Alastor.” Vox continued.  “It’s time that we were open with each other. I can go first, if you’d like.”

Alastor glared at him; narrowed eyes flaring red.

“I’m tired of you always calling the shots and I’m tired of you always stringing me along. So, this is what is going to happen… Val’s coming on board. I’ve already made him an offer, you should consider joining us.”

“I decline.” Alastor hissed.

“That’s your prerogative.” Vox shrugged. “You’ve never been interested in advancing your own work and I’ll leave you to it….however, you and I – we can’t keep tip-toeing around each other. You’re so scared to care about someone; so afraid to love someone… I want you in my life, Alastor. I want you as my partner. I’m done playing and I’m done waiting. And…I need to know that you feel the same.”

Vox had learned something about himself earlier that evening while he was with Valentino. He wasn’t just infatuated with Alastor…he was obsessed with him. It wasn’t enough for Vox to have Alastor in his life in the way that he had him now…he needed all of Alastor and he needed Alastor to feel the same way about him.

“If you want to know my true feelings, Vox, then fucking let me go.”

Vox just stared at him.

“I’m serious…I’ll tell you. I’ll tell you everything. I know I haven’t been fair…I know I’ve been a complete and total ass about this whole thing with you and I can try harder; I know I could be a better partner…just let me go.” 

“No.”

“No!?” Alastor yelled, struggling harder now. “You think this is funny!? You think this is some joke!?”

“Oh, I think that you’ll find that I am being very,” Another wire slid from Vox; shooting toward Alastor; it veered to the side, swinging back around to connect smoothly to Alastor’s temple. “Very serious.”

No…

“Vox…don’t. Don’t do this.”

“It’s not as bad as everyone thinks it is...” Vox told him; widening his eyes; the pupils turning into hypnotic rings.

Alastor flattened his ears; squeezing his eyes shut. The wire connected to his temple glowed neon blue and he felt a kind of thrumming entering into his thoughts now. Alastor clenched his teeth.

Have my body, Vox…but don’t invade my mind!!!

Jolts of stimuli shot through Alastor’s body and his mind; he threw back his head and arched his back; sweating as he mentally and physically fought against the attack.

“Tell me what I mean to you, Alastor.” Vox’s voice was reverberating from every direction.

“I….I….ugh!” Alastor bit himself, blood trickling down his chin. He was straining; fighting for control. Vox increased the stimuli; doubling his efforts and Alastor gasped – eyes flying open.

Monitors and screens lining the walls were flashing and glitching across the screens. The cords wrapped around Alastor were tightening; and sparks were shooting from splits in the wires.

There was a pulsing in Alastor’s groin and he knew he was hard; his heart was slamming against his chest and his blood was running hot… Vox’s stimuli was coursing through his veins; igniting the hormones that were flooding into Alastor’s system. Vox was going to send him into his rut.

Black splotches erupted behind Alastor’s eyes and he knew he was losing consciousness.

I can’t blackout…I can’t…I’ll…I’ll kill him… I’ll –

Power erupted in an explosion of twisting cords and fraying wires – electricity surged through the building – illuminating everything in a brilliant light before all of Hell went dark.

…

“Vox! VOX! I swear to god; if you caused a rolling blackout on a night that I have fucking royals at the club, I’ll-“ Valentino had thrown open the door to Vox and Alastor’s business suite.

Wires were sparking; a screen here and there flashing or flickering erratically around the room. One wall of monitors was lit up in stark white screens; but there was something splashed across the surfaces of each one – dark and maroon.

Valentino couldn’t fucking see a thing but he felt something; large and hulking in the room. It made the feathery ends to his antennae stand on end. Something shifted and large, glowing red eyes glared at him from the darkness.

“Mother of fuck-“ Valentino pulled out his pistol; he couldn’t see for shit and he still didn’t know where Vox was so he shot the gun off straight overhead.

The gun cracked; the bullet piercing loudly through the structure of the building.

Alastor’s eldritch form jerked at the sound; dropping something heavy from its mouth. Valentino caught impressions of large branches moving close to the ceiling; rolling red eyes; a large lanky form of something crawling toward him and great, long pointed teeth.

A groan from the darkness…from where something heavy had fell. 

“Vox!?” Val yelled, stepping back and aiming the gun at what he thought might be the incredibly large head to whatever was moving toward him – he really couldn’t tell.

“Val!?” Vox yelled. “Val!”

Dazed; Vox shot a voltage of electricity into the monitors that were lit white above him and their screens lit the room in a brilliant flare of bright white light.

Alastor’s eldritch demon form flinched back; blinking at the onslaught of light. Blood and drool seeped from the great mouth; stains of blood washed across the talons of his huge clawed hands. The brilliantly white screens shown through a spray of blood. Vox leaned against a pile of broken monitors; blood pouring from a gaping wound to his shoulder and neck – it was pooling into the fabric of his suit.

“VOX!” Valentino yelled and Alastor’s large head snapped around. Baring his teeth; he crouched and prepared to lunge.

Yelling with effort; Vox threw more cables from the servers and the modems at him – coiling around the large frame and sending volts of electricity through the radio demon.

The eldritch demon jerked from the contact of the cords; pulling and clawing at the modems and servers – sending the tech bursting into flames or crashing heavily to the ground.

“NO!!!” Vox was yelling; feeling the power he had stored and relied on dissipating from him entirely.

The charge of energy burned through Alastor’s senses; his conscious flickering back to his body and he saw Vox; bleeding and torn in the wreckage below him. Stumbling; Alastor quickly shifted form – falling to his knees and gasping in pain.

“I’LL FUCKING KILL YOU!” Vox roared at him.

Hitching in a breath; Alastor struggled to stand – his legs shaking heavily beneath him.

I didn’t kill him…He’s alive. I didn’t-

A sharp crack resounded, and Alastor’s legs buckled underneath him; and he fell - feeling like he was punched heavily in the shoulder.

A split second to process; then Alastor realized that Valentino had shot him in the shoulder with his pistol. Before Valentino could chamber another round into the gun; Alastor quickly merged into the shadows – disappearing entirely.

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

Directly following these events; Alastor decided to lie low…monitoring the aftermath of their situation.

It didn’t take long before rumors were spreading and tabloids were headlining “Don’t FUCK with the Radio Demon” with all kinds of charming bits about how Alastor had shamelessly and violently murdered a variety of bedwarmers… It wasn’t a hard guess as to who was spreading this information. It did nothing deteriorating to Alastor’s formidable reputation as the radio demon but it hit him somewhere sore, just the same.

If Alastor had meant to continue to regularly satiate his rut; he would have found a hard time in it…even with Rosie’s unique resources. For now though; Alastor was finding that he was less and less interested in meeting the needs of his cycles. He commanded more power now than he had before– he would be less susceptible to any ill and knowledgeable intents – and…whatever suffering he endured because of his abstinence would be well earned.

Alastor decided that the only reason Vox gained the upper hand on him…the only reason that Vox could actually hurt him…was because Alastor let Vox get so close to him. Alastor had made another mistake, had let himself become too vulnerable with someone. He gave Vox a chance for something that - he decided then - would never be worth giving to anyone very again.

Vox and Valentino joined forces; just as Vox had always planned. They didn’t become “The Vee’s” right away…at least not until Velvette entered the game later on.

Alastor watched things play out; deciding to make himself scarce for a while longer yet…In doing so; possibilities he hadn’t previously thought to consider before crossed his path…and Alastor became much more…scarcer…than he had ever fully intended to be… 

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

Taglist: @nyx91; @reath-solia

Next Update: 6/15/24

[legobiwan]

do you have any thoughts on powerups/how the bros use them?

You have no idea what you have just unleashed, anon. :D I am super into world-building and lore when it comes to Mario stuff, so here's a random list of ideas that may or may not bear fruit for anyone who reads this. (Also, part of this is me sketching out concepts for solus creatura, so I thank my followers in advance for their patience here).

The vegetable/fruit/foliage powerups are naturally occurring. The Mushroom Kingdom has the most fertile conditions for these plants to grow, although other kingdoms have done a decent enough job of genetically engineering their own powerup plants.

This makes the powerups an integral part of the Mushroom Kingdom economy, and one of the reasons they're able to survive so long without any real standing army or defense system outside of Mario and Luigi. It's also one of the reasons they get invaded so often.

The Darklands, centuries before Bowser's reign, used to also cultivate powerups. They were overfarmed by a corrupt agricultural council, however, and in combination with a once-in-a-lifetime drought, the vast majority of their land and crop was ruined.

Luckily for the Darklands, their native species is capable of fire and they still retain a strong tradition of magical culture through the Magikoopas (although this was briefly wiped out during Bowser's father's reign, as he thought the Magikoopas were planning a coup. They, in fact, were, but for good reasons).

Now, the Mushroom Kingdom is wary of magic, due their own history and complicated relationship with the Darklands (this may be in part linked to an old civil war that caused the split between the Mushroom Kingdom and the Darklands). Their species is also just not that magically adept (something having to do with Toad physiognomy?) The powerups are a decent compromise - they afford magic-like abilities without rendering their user permanently superpowered.

There was some contention in the royal court when Mario and Luigi first arrived in terms of allowing them access to the powerups. Ultimately, it was decided the safety of the kingdom would supersede any worries about abuse of power. (This being said, Peach had to argue long and hard for this).

Mario and Luigi receive a monthly allotment of powerups and if they find any "in the wild," they're supposed to record each instance. Neither brother bothers with this and every month they get a nasty letter from Porcina in accounting, which has led to a years-long feud between her and Mario. Luigi has learned the better way to circumvent the system is bribery by brownie. It usually, although not always, works.

The non-vegetative powerups are created in Mushroom Kingdom labs. Because the Mushroom Kingdom is like a Times Square Station for warp-pipe travel, the dimensional crossroads makes it easier to cross-pollinate powerups with characteristics of other species and lands (cats, penguins, etc.)

Back in the day, E. Gadd was involved with a lot of this research, but ultimately left to pursue his own interests in the paranormal. It's also rumored that he and the governing scientific committee at the time had a spat about the limits of experimental ethics.

When Mario and Luigi are first introduced to the powerups, they think this is the coolest thing in the world. They have powers, which was an impossibility back in New York.

It takes them a while to get the hang of using the powerups. Mario set fire to a Mushroom Kingdom stable one time. Luigi crash landed into someone's wedding as a kitsune. The citizens, by and large, were relatively forgiving of these incidents, although it did make for a wild few days in the press.

At first, Mario and Luigi both love the fireball ability. That is, until the events of Super Paper Mario, after which they go a solid few months without coming NEAR a fireflower. Mario can't help flashback to that terrible moment in Merlon's house while Luigi experiences the oddest phantom pains if he as much holds a fireflower, although he can't say why exactly. (Mario, of course, has no idea Luigi was boxed and bombed twice by Dimentio).

Luigi loves flying and may steal a few extra Tanooki leaves to go out and experiment with aeronautics/aviation concepts in the dead of the night. This, subconsciously, directly influences his Brobot designs in his time as Mr. L.

Mario's favorite powerup is the classic mushroom. Finally, he gets to be as tall or taller than his younger brother.

They both think the Invincibility Star is incredible until they're faced with a situation in which the invincibility wears off at a dangerous moment, which almost turned fatal for Mario. It's a sobering moment, and brothers learn the lesson that no one is invincible forever.

The Mushroom Kingdom allows Mario and Luigi to use the powerups under the assumption that the "magic," as it were, never lasts. What they don't know, however, is that Luigi has a strange penchant for magic, which is why on more than one occasion, the effects of the powerups take longer to wear off on him. (One day, Luigi shows up to meet his brother looking a little...furrier than usual. "You look hairy, bro," Mario says, furrowing his brow. "I'm Italian." Mario rolls his eyes at his brother's quip. "Not that Italian. What, did you forget to shave again?" Luigi just shrugs, not wanting to admit this isn't the first time he's woken up with more hair than he's used to).

They tease each other mercilessly when they are introduced to some of the animalistic powerups. Luigi puts a litter box in his brother's room and buys him a collar with the name tag, "Fluffy." Mario cooks Luigi fish for five days straight after the penguin incident. He also starts singing the "Walk Like a Penguin" jingle every time his brother comes into the room.

[screampied]

‘ #KNOCK(HER)OUT ! ’

ᡴꪫ‎ sum. you get more than what you bargained for by getting involved with two boxers—two boxers that can’t keep their hands off the pretty new journalist. what happens in the ring stays in the ring though…. right?

wc. 5.7k

warnings. fem! reader x t. fushiguro & s. ryōmen, boxer!au, thrēesome, manhandling, unprotected, semi public, size kink, ōral (f & m receiving), head lock, spīt, sqūirting, they fight over you, brēeding, fīngering, implied multiple ōrgasms, nipple play.

an. based on this ask, haven’t recovered since :,)

sukuna ryōmen and toji fushiguro. . .

the talk of the town. top most infamous boxers of your city, they were supposedly rivals but ended up becoming super close friends. 'friends' was probably a stretch. acquaintances was probably a far better word to describe the two. there was hardly anyone that didn’t tune into your detailed magazines about them—your occupation? a journalist. you’d be the first to write about their fights, their strengths, weaknesses, their total wins & losses, and even a few unnecessary things like their love life. you were new, but you were good. always in the front row, you’d watch them spar against some of the most scariest opponents imaginable. something about guys taking it out in the ring right before your eyes got your panties in a twist. how unprofessional..

you only did it for the money, the publicity— a lot of people adored your skill to make such stories so interesting. between toji and sukuna, they were almost always compared, and oh did they hate it. ex rivals continuously pinned against each other, it’d piss anyone off. although, you were in dire need for a new story topic to write and you just so happen to stumble into their private gym.

“yo,” a rough sly yet cunning voice mutters, and it’s so deep—you recognize it from anywhere, toji fushiguro in the flesh. “are ya lost? no fuckin’ autographs.”

“don’t be rude, ‘toj,” and your eyes avert towards sukuna— he’s a few inches taller and your eyes roam at them both. they had droplets of sweat racing down their washboard abs, scars coating their skin with ruffled hair as if they’d just finished a match. sukuna drags his feet towards you before his eyes light up. “ohh, i know you,” he snickers, grabbing your notepad before nudging his friend. “she’s our little journalist toji. and she’s a damn fine one too..”

“. . . uh,” was all you could make out, feeling a sudden tightness in your stomach. your eyes continue to stare, your lewd thoughts only become more and more vulgar. seconds pass before you realize sukuna took your notebook, toji pauses his sets to get a good look at you. “i thought this was the ladies' room.”

“girl bye,” toji grumbles with two hands buried into his shorts pockets— he reads right through you as if you were some sort of exposed novel. people said he was a lot sassier in person but you didn’t think it’d actually be true. green dark eyes linger onto you for a long time before he stretches, leaning down to get a good glimpse at your figure. “did you come here just to stare or what?”

you were taken aback at how blunt he was.

a coy grin appears on his lips as he watches you struggle to formulate a good enough response.

you were nosy, you were really really nosy. for once, perhaps you didn’t wanna just jot down things about these two— just maybe, just maybe . . you wanted a hands-on experience.

“i… needed new material for my article before the next match starts,” you utter, squeezing your thighs together. sukuna tilts his head, eyeing you in a way that makes you feel hot. toji’s stare was ten times more intimate, darkened irises practically staring right into your soul—you knew this wasn’t the bathroom, you were lying. “i was hoping maybe you’d give me some uh . . inspo.”

they were both towering over you with height, you felt small—like an ant that was preparing itself to be crushed by a villainous shoe.

“inspiration, she says?” sukuna hums, his voice is low—raspy, an almost purr hiding underneath it before he moves closer towards you. “just tell us what you really want, princess.”

“nah don’t get all shy now,” toji chimes in once he sees you grow more sheepish. they both close in on you—you felt like you were trapped in a fever dream, you weren’t exactly complaining either. they smelled so good, a mixture of sultry sweat and a loud scent of heavy cologne that wafts throughout the entire training room. “you got our attention so spit it out, girl.”

“i— i want you both.” you finally mutter after seven long consecutive seconds. with the way toji’s staring right through you, you felt like your stomach sank between your legs - your legs that were throbbing with nothing but mere arousal, again perhaps this was unprofessional. no, it was very unprofessional—but anyone would kill to be in your position, being sandwiched between the top two boxers of your city.

sukuna snickers. “both? what makes you think i’d wanna share with this bum?”

“shut up,” toji snarls, and the way his facial expressions tense a bit—so attractive. the headlines + press was right about toji, he was a lot more handsome in person. he was a fairly new boxer yet a pure lady's man. he’s had a plethora of fangirls while in the ring and maybe you were one of them. as he inches towards you with a hand softly gripping underneath your chin, he inhales. his entire facial structure, so chiseled—brief dark stubble coats the entirety lower half of his jaw and he rubs his left boxing glove against his left knee. “that really want you want? both of us?” and his voice softens. it’s a bit more pitchy and low, and he sneers. “on me, look at me when you reply too, girl.”

your lip gradually pulls down from his thumb playing against it. you felt so hot, the air suddenly felt thick.

a sudden lump gets caught in your throat before you mumble. “i want you both,” and your eyes meet the dark-haired boxer, simultaneously glancing at his attire— shirtless, boxing shorts on with his custom-made ‘fushiguro’ briefs wilting near the top—only showing the hem part. just a teensy detail like that was so enticing that you even spot a few parts of his exposing snatched waist. only after awhile you then abruptly snap out of your vulgar fantasm. “…please.”

“the real question is, pretty little journalist,” sukuna steps in, a hand stroking against your chin. you didn’t know where to even look. both boxers had their hands on you and the tightened squeezing between your plush thighs grew even more. “can you handle both?”

“yes.” you’d speak in a soft voice, most likely as of now you were probably speaking from between your legs—you didn’t care though, everyone’s a little delusional at some point. emphasis on a little in your case, because you had no idea what you were getting in to with these two.

toji snickers. “hm,” he mutters, eyes focusing on you for a long time before he raises his chin. “fine. let’s test your strength then,” and he briefly gazes at sukuna. “sukuna. we can take her ‘n the ring.”

and they mean it quite literally— taking you, the both of them versus you, except you weren’t relatively fighting.

not in that sense, but it was versus an opponent that was throbbing between your thighs.

the arena was empty, about a good hundred or more vacant blood-shot red seats scatter everywhere.

inside the ring, it was a mere raised platform, guided and shaped by strong stringy ropes that were yanking between poles at each side and corner. you lay on the spongy canvas of the ring’s floor before biting back a moan.

“scared yet?” sukuna hums, and he props himself right between your legs. this was risky—entirely risky, anyone could just walk in. besides, you were pretty sure they had a match in about a good forty-five minutes. with sprawled-out legs, he moved closer before dragging a thumb down your panties. his voice was a bit deeper than toji’s, they both shared the same amount of rasp.

sukuna had the charm, toji had the suaveness.

you shake your head, feeling yourself grow even hotter the more he stalls time. it feels warm, the entire air around you is humidly thick and you whine as he teasingly bites your panties. not enough to pierce his teeth into your folds, but he bites near the fabric—you watch, the string of your underwear slowly dragging with him. yet, you can’t help but glance at toji who’s just standing there—arms crossed and that same scowl that stuck against his face. “mhm,” he jibes, eyes flickering towards toji. “toji. she’s looking at you.”

“i know she fuckin’ is,” he grumbles, and your head tilts upward. you’re face first with his bulge that was right against your face. talk about space, it was right there. such a big bulge, who were you even kidding though—you found yourself gawking at his bulge at every match he had. with the skin-tight shorts he’d worn, you just knew he was nothing more than a packer. “nosy girl. y’er mouth bored or somethin’?” and he watches your hands paw at the hem of his tucked-out briefs. “need a bit of throat training, huh?”

sukuna’s playing with your panties still. by now, he’s peeling them towards the crevices of your thighs and you whine whilst you feel a thumb of his drag down your honeyed slit. sopping wet, just a three-second stare and he was suddenly esurient.

“look at me, not him,” toji lightly turns your head to face back up to him again. his bulge, his damn bulge that was right up against you. you nod, feeling your mouth dry—you wanted your throat to be filled, it wasn’t even a question. toji gruffs lowly, moving your chin side to side. “huuuh? girl, i don’t speak silence. thought i told ya how to use those words when you speak.”

“i- i wanna suck you off, ‘toj,” and you get cut off once he pulls his boxing shorts down halfway, bringing your face close to his briefs. you’re taken by surprise once he makes you rub your face against his hardened bulge—you moan, as if on instinct, your tongue lolls out just to taste him. even if it’s just the clothed fabric protecting his actual cock, it was something.

he scoffs. “y’er a nasty girl, huh,” he mumbles, peering down to see sukuna starting to lick against your cunt. your legs quaver upon impact and you slump back against the corner of the ring. “can’t wait, yeah. want me to train this empty throat? maybe it’ll make ya a better journalist, nosy ass.”

you’d almost laugh at his little side remark if it wasn’t for sukuna’s tongue lapping against your slick entrance. your lips part as you lean back, a hand going through his hair. “mphm,” he grunts, one hand squeezing the right part of your thigh. “sweetest taste i’ve had in a . . . looong while.” and he’s so sloppy, not even a few seconds pass before he’s already slurping. your panties were lazily shoved to the side and that’s when toji hauls down his briefs.

you gulp, damn.

he wasn’t just big, he was huge…

your mouth starts to salivate the more you stared at the swollen shaft. toji was a big guy . . hence meaning, toji he was a thick guy.

staggering height and a fat base to back it up, he had about two veins running down the side. his tip was a reddish pink, you could already taste him throbbing in your mouth. toji was quite well shaved a bit— though, it was a few specks of black hairs scattered everywhere. however, his happy trail was so pleasing to look. it roams all down his sculpted body, he sighs once you slowly wrap a hand around his cock.

“spit the fuck on it.”

five words and you didn’t hesitate to roll out your pink tongue once more.

you gather a good amount before watching it coat against his pink sweet tip. he groans, watching your hand stroke him a bit. he was so big, so fucking big that you could barely wrap your entire hand around his dick. toji groans, watching you make a total mess out of yourself. pretty glossy lips, pretty glossy lips that would soon be wrapped around his hefty length.

once you get it wet enough, you gently move your mouth onto him. he hisses, the warmth of your throat has his abs clenching.

“m-mhm,” you’d moan out, though your words were purely muffled. sukuna’s sucking on your clit, occasionally nipping and nibbling on it just to make you squirm even more. it was cute— the way your legs could barely hold still, so this was your weak spot. it’s what he thought to himself, lapping his tongue against your slick entrance. brief kisses coat near your folds before he maneuvers such circles against your pussy. feeling his canines nip against your folds every few seconds had you feral in the best way possible.

“y’er makin’ her squirm all over, ‘kuna,” toji lowly chuckles, such baritone in his voice that it makes you soak even more. you didn’t even know how it was possible with the way you were just profusely dripping like a faucet. not even—you put faucets to shame with how slick you were, quickly coating the lower part of sukuna’s chin with your syrupy taste. “open that mouth a ‘lil more, yeah . . . yeah,” and he tilts your head back a bit, prying your mouth open some more. he starts to slowly sink his cock in, so slow. the pace was incredibly tantalizing, your tongue runs against his slit before he pushed more inches inside. “fuckkk, girl,” he continues to grunt out, knees already starting to buckle. the way you took him in, hollow cheeks all puffed, you were already starting to drool a bit. small amounts of your saliva trickle past the corners of your lips as he goes deeper and deeper. deeper until his tip ends up mashing against your uvula and you gag.

“. . ooooh,” he hums, and just a simple noise as that was so seductive. “good…. good,” he swallows, a hand digging through your hair before maintaining a good grip against it. “now . . let’s test this pretty throat’s durability, hm.”

your little nod makes his sly smile widen, your jaw hangs and he starts to gradually piston his hips. such a mess, he was just so big that you were surprised all of it even fit.

“alllll the way down, shit,” your head starts to move, bobbling as your tongue swiftly running against his pulsating head. he gnashes his teeth together, dim eyes flickering towards your hands. you were feeling hot yourself so you made a cute attempt at reaching between your legs. doing so only greets you to a soft concise smack.

“hands to yourself, silly girl,” sukuna grumbles, and this time he grabs your wrist. he simpers, watching you try to even still rub one out but with his grip, you weren’t getting anywhere. as your mouth was occupied with such inches, you whimper once you feel sukuna spank your cunt a few times. “don’t touch my pussy.”

one turns into two, then three, then four. . .

your pretty cunt starts to become his new obsession—the way you’d squelch for him so easily, he gets hard in his boxers. so wet, he knows the layout as if he’s so used to doing this. you wouldn’t be surprised, especially with a tongue like he had. lapping left and right, he parts your legs just a bit farther before the tip of his tongue swirls all around it. he lays it flat, getting a good enough taste before giving it yet another mean spank.

you whimper, feeling your tummy cave in before toji makes you face him once more. “eyes up here, eyes on me,” and he sounds almost jealous the more you focus your attention strictly on his boxer acquaintance. you’re still stroking him, a thumb sliding down a vein that prods alongside his shaft and he groans. your throat, so warm that he starts to feel his right thigh bounce. “should be . . usin’ this throat for shit like this instead of running that mouth.” his voice pitches lower, boxer shorts pulled down and his hair was slightly ruffled. you stare up at toji and he gives you that same cunning smirk. oh, you were soaked. again, this simply felt like a fever dream. even if at the slightest chance that you were dreaming, you never wanted to wake up.

toji’s quite talkative throughout the entire thing, sukuna’s dragging you further and further onto your incoming release and your legs start to rapidly shake even more. you whine and mewl out such sweetened moans, occasionally coming back up for air as you kept his cock warm in your mouth. each time it hits the roof of your mouth, you let off a straddled noise and he finds it so cute, so filthy.

“relax y’er throat, girl,” he mutters, a firm grip on your scalp. with glossy eyes, you follow his words and you stop gagging a bit. he grunts, getting hard every time your pretty eyes make direct contact with him. “such a pretty girl when you listen.” and his tone gets a bit more sensual, more tender.

you whine, feeling sukuna insert a single finger inside of you—you swallow his digit almost immediately and you cringe at hearing your own salaciously lewd squelches.

soaking, sopping wet,

three perfect words to describe between your legs, you choke out a moan once you feel that sensation brew right up inside your stomach. steadily, it was coming closer and closer. you’re breathing through your nose—feeling a few of his pubic hairs tickle against you. you’re moaning, eyes becoming half-lidded and droopy. toji had a mere pout stretching against his face and he felt himself coming close too.

the icing on the cake was your tongue, the way you swirl and slide it against his frenulum—he groans out a low grunt that rings throughout the arena. it reverberates, it's raspy and it only makes you even more aroused. “s-shit, you close too?”

you nod, and toji jeers, finding it amusing to taunt with you as you’re about to reach your inevitable peak. “yeah? gonna make a mess on ‘kuna’s face?”

“told ya don’t call me that,” sukuna grouses, resuming to pump not one but two fingers into you now—you’re almost there. it’s a hot feeling stirring up near your lower abdomen, a pool of it. your eyes start to roll, still slobbering down toji’s cock before he starts to thrust and thrust into your mouth.

“make me.” toji stared at him—and the both of them grew quiet before laughing with each other.

idiots.

your maw opens just a bit wider, and he’s shoving himself in and out of your tight throat—the noises that follow are so lewd, he finds you so pretty like this. mascara all smeared and runny, your hand continues to wrap around his length—his sagged base, so full. you start to salivate again, imagining what his taste was like. you craved it like you crave sweets, sukuna’s tongue running against your clit only made things far more intense before you start to convulse.

“f-fuckkk, ‘m gonna cum,” toji rasps, tilting your head back a bit more. you stare at him, tongue still grazing against the pulsing slit before after a few more pumps—he shoots a nice velvety load into your mouth. he grunts lowly, nostrils flaring up, jaw tightening and all. “. . damn,” he swallows, allowing himself to slow down. you end up finishing around the same time, costing sukuna’s mouth with a honeyed amount of your slick and he hums. you whimper, legs barely able to hold themselves up before you feel toji’s dick pour the remnants of his cum flat on your tongue. “nah, don’t fuckin’ swallow yet. stick it out, lemme see that shit.”

your legs felt like they were about to fall off, sukuna’s kissing near your now swollen entrance and you slowly loll out your tongue. obeying, you didn’t exactly swallow yet and he hums. “best savor that shit,” he groans, giving his veiny cock a few subtle strokes before he smacks his angry tip against your tongue. “and where’s my thank you for the meal, baby?”

“t—thwak y—you toji,” you speak, barely coherent with his seed splattered all on your tongue. you didn’t wanna spill any, and if you did—you didn’t wanna stick around to find out his reaction.

“yeah,” he huffs. “you can swallow now. get every drop in.”

sukuna moves towards you, you’re still laid on the ring’s mat before he softly wraps a hand around your throat. “hey. don’t let this bastard have all the fun, i want a taste too,” and you're taken by surprise once he pulls you into a deep steamy kiss. you moan, feeling him quite literally take your breath away. your tongue drags against sukuna’s chin, the bitterness. a concoction mixture of your saliva and his mixes, and you whine once he snakes a hand up your blazer. you taste yourself on his tongue and it’s so dirty, hot breaths mash against each other, teeth gnashing, and only then do you feel his cunning smirk.

“no one told you to hog her,” toji grumbles, pulling you back towards him. you briefly gasp for air and they both stare at each other, then you. “tell me, baby. who’d you think win in a fight? me or this . . . thing.”

sukuna glares.

“i don’t … know,” you pant out, heaving from your current orgasm—so cute, yet you only wanted more. from kissing sukuna to having your throat entirely filled, you didn’t know which was better. “can we finish?”

“aw, is someone impatient?” sukuna titters, and you stare at his glistening body—beads of sweat race down his precious v-line, the ideal body for a boxer. you just couldn’t stop staring at his pecs, so chiseled. you even thought his pictures were edited, but seeing them up close . . you wanted him, you wanted both of them. “hm. how ‘bout this? we teach you a few ah, moves. full nelson to start, ‘s pretty easy.”

easy, sure.

with it all being easy, you’d least expect to be put into a full nelson position. a mere popular wrestling position, although you’d be performing it with no one other than sukuna.

he’d have you slump back against him, hooking both arms underneath your thighs as you’re taking such mean thrusts from him. time and time again, you’re spasming out. mouth all open, saliva running down the very corners of your lips before you moan. “s—sukuna, oh my godddd,” and you glance up at toji who’s got a cute pout, stroking himself. you lost count of the time, it’s probably been about a good thirty-three minutes by now, thirty plus minutes of various teeth shattering orgasms. your head hits back against him and each time his tip smacks against your cervix, you short circuit. “fuck, fuck, right there, hit it thereee.”

“you coachin’ me how to fuck, dumb girl?” he chortles with a groan shortly following—he was so deep, the heftiness of his base taps against you each time you bounce back against his cock. he sucks his teeth, the way you easily took him had him groaning all up against your ear. “gotta get a little more stretchy, we gotta . . hah, work on your flexibility too, huh.”

“sukuna hurry the fuck up. watching you fuck my girl ‘s boring as shit,” toji grouses, pumping his cock into his fist every few seconds—you stare and he’s so needy, you could tell. his scowl he had earlier forms into a cute pout, dark eyebrows furrowing together and he’s growing impatient.

you caught that though. ‘my’ girl.

who would have thought toji . . the womanizing boxer who’s never had time for any woman throughout his career would start batting for you?

“your girl?” sukuna snickers, resuming to hold your legs up a bit further. he reaches so deep, that your stomach starts to seize and your maw drops. hooded eyes, your lashes flutter and you felt continuous strained breaths get yanked from your lungs. “your girl yet she’s gettin’ fucked by me? the better boxer?”

toji snarls, and he kneels to kiss you. you moan, barely able to return the gesture since you were in the midst of taking sukuna. with being gifted with such sharp thrusts, you dig your nails into his thighs before running tangling your tongue alongside toji’s. his breath was warm, you whine once you feel one of his hands stroke your cheek.

“aha, look at him. already whipped before me,” sukuna snickers, feeling you sink and gape around him—he stretched you out so good already, it was so relentless. each time you bounce back against his lap, the ringing in your ears grows louder and louder. he feels his dick twitch inside you. seeing you make out with toji irks him a bit before he spanks your ass—the recoil making him even more aroused than before. sukuna hums, seeing the current pout on toji’s face before nodding, “aw. toji wants a turn too, yeah? don’t ya . . big guy?” and he intakes a breath, your pussy constricting around his length as sukuna pulls you further to slam back and forth against him. you’re moving against him now as his dick jackhammers right into your gummy was. your mouth idly dangles with your tongue stil shamelessly lolled out. a raw moan rips from the back of your throat at the pure feeling of utter bliss.

so thick, so girthy—you gasp once you feel his fingers tend towards your neglected tits. toji shortly follows, a hand going between your thighs. your cunt was all stuffed of sukuna, feeding your swollen pussy was so many inches. “hngh, f-fuck, fuckkk,” you’d whine between wet, saturated kisses. toji purposely feels against your folds, all stuffed and sopping wet. he rubs a thumb against your slick entrance as your legs were just about to give out. “toji, m-more. need you to touch me more.”

“you don’t need shit, little girl,” he corrects you, squeezing your lips together before presses a kiss against it. you moan, your ass stinging every few seconds from the stings of sukuna’s palm making direct contact against your ass cheek. spank after spank, oh how he adores the jiggle. he could watch it all day, even in slow motion if he could. “such a cute thing though, had the nerve to say you thought our training room was the fuckin’ ladies' room.”

you cringe once he repeats that. the same ringing going through your ears once more. your ears perk, hearing sukuna’s raspy grunts against the shells of your lobes before you start to stammer, “toji, touch me.”

“i’ll touch this messy body when i wanna,” he gruffs, leaning to nip kisses near your neck. sukuna’s still holding you up—you’re like a rag doll, eyes goggling from the stretch before you start to feel it. not your orgasm, but something entirely different. it was a new type of pressure, sweet whiny moans emit out of you before you feel sukuna’s rude tip thrash against your g-spot again, and again, and again..

toji’s thumb softly strokes underneath your neck as he pulls you into a short kiss. you whimper, pulling away before spreading your legs a bit further.

“i— something’s coming, i f-feel tingly.”

sukuna roughly laughs against your ear, seemingly getting what you were implying. “yeah, gonna make another mess on us, princess? oh. i mean on me, heh?”

you shudder, your pussy feeling entirely stuffed and your eyes merely roll way back. he fit nice and snug, you bare around him before a whine drags out your throat. so deep, so so deep, you’re spasming—each relentless piston of his hips makes you whine louder. a feeling that was purely euphoric welts right against you, and you’re laid all back against sukuna’s bare chest, riding him in reverse. “c-choke me, ‘kuna, choke me, please.”

“want me to put you in a headlock, yeah,” he whispers to you in a rough low voice. you moan, feeling him lick against your earlobe before toji strokes your cheek. you could tell he wanted a turn too, the pout on his lips stretching even further. you’re nodding against him before your cunt gapes more. “sure. i’ll let you in on what my opponents feel, pretty girl.”

you moan, his voice was so low up against your ear, you’re about to cum. or were you, you swallow thickly despite having a sudden dry throat— voice all raspy and strained from moaning for such a duration that your head’s woozy. it feels too good, your thighs ache and quaver before you feel a beefy arm wrap around your neck. “upsie daisy, thereee we go,” and he scoots you on his lap just a bit farther. he’s buried to the hilt. you moan, toji pulling you into the nth kiss of the night, lips moving in pure tandem. just when you’re about to finish, you feel him rub against your stuffed cunt once more. yet that’s only when you decide to move your hands towards the boxers . . . nipples.

“t-the fuck,” he grunts in a hoarse tone, his voice was suddenly a bit shaky. it was cute—you couldn’t lie to yourself, you found yourself staring at toji’s chest way more often than you should. practically always shirtless, his pecs were huge. such pink swollen nipples, you slide a thumb against it and he shivers from your touch. “fuckin’ weirdo. ‘m sensitive there, s-shit.”

he doesn’t tell you to stop—instead, he grips your hair not so tightly but firmly. you look up at him, speaking in a tiny yet sheepish tone. “can— can i?”

“can ya what?” he grits, watching as sukuna continues to feed your cunt of his cock — you were just about to burst, you felt it and your toes clench and curl all up. so cute.

with a thumb still sliding against his pecs tenderly, you murmur. dilated pupils flicker towards his chest, then back up at him. “. . can,” you huff out in short breaths, tummy seizing, breathing hot and heavy. “can i suck on them?”

“no you can’t fuckin’ suck on them. what kinda question is tha—”

“toji, don’t be fuckin’ mean. you claim she’s your girl so let her suck your tits, big guy.” sukuna chimes in, releasing his soft grip against your neck. you gasp, leaning way back against him now. he was so warm pent up against you—you whimper out, sukuna leans against your ear and he starts to talk you through your incoming orgasm. “right? wanna make toji a little whiny bitch?”

“shut the fuck up,” he rasps, and his pecs literally stare at you—so beefy, you could have sworn they twitched. he groans, watching you give him such eyes before he inches closer towards you, bending down. “…….fine. whatever.”

still grinding against sukuna’s lap, you hold toji’s pecs before latching your tongue against it. his face scrunches up and it’s so cute, for whatever reason, the way your tongue curls against his perky nipples feels … good. awkwardly, he pulls your head closer towards his chest, eyeing closely as you briefly start to suck. as usual, you were so sloppy too—moaning up against his sensitive skin, rolling your tongue all against his nipple.

“nasty little g—girl,” he chokes out.

you glance up at him, parting your lips away before he makes you go back to tending to his tense nipples. “i didn’t tell you to stop. use y’er fuckin’ tongue some more. and stare at me while you do that . . . weird shit.”

toji’s voice significantly pitches and you’re so into it that you don’t even realize that before you know it, you end up squirting. everything comes at once, you’re pulsing with sukuna’s cock still twitching vigorously inside you and you whimper, mouth still sucking onto toji’s tits nipples. low laughter could be heard from behind you, and it’s all so much. your pussy was equivalent to a waterpark, gushing out all into sukuna’s lap. “fuckkk, princess,” he chortles, slowing down your hips and he ends up finishing a few seconds after you.

when he came inside, it came out quite a lot too. a hefty amount, it came out in ropes to where he paints the entirety of your womb. so warm from the inside, your tummy briefly caves in and your legs felt like mush.

“heh, did you just squirt?” sukuna points out, cock still twitching inside but he just lies still. you’re stretched out literally on the mat, seeing pure stars— the lights of the arena merely blinding you before you lie back against him. “a squirter and you’re tapping out already? aw boo. ‘n here i thought you could handle a few more rounds in the ring, princess.”

“i— i can,” you protest, parting your lips away from toji’s sheeny pecs. your lips were spit-glossed, he stared at you before squatting down to stare at the mess right between your legs. so messy, sukuna lifts you off of him and it just pours right down between your thighs. “i can go for more.”

toji hums, taking a quick three-second glance at his watch. “five fuckin’ minutes, ‘s all you’ll get with . . me,” and it’s cute because a mere pink forms on his face.

he’s still embarrassed from you sucking on his nipples that he tries to act all tough—but that only makes his tone quaver even more. “match’s gonna start soon. sukuna, let’s take her both.”

he snickers, pulling your shirt that was tucked underneath your blazer all the way up.

“both?” and sukuna lifts you to sit on top of toji, straddling him. you were being preparing to be overly stuffed with not one but two cocks. you fall face forward into toji’s broad chest, the coldness of his chain that wraps around his neck brushes against your skin before he helps you align yourself.

you moan, feeling sukuna get behind too—you gulp, toji’s fondling your breasts that almost poke out through your unbuttoned shirt whilst sukuna was behind. you’d be taking them both— one in each hole. “can you handle us both at the same time, pretty girl? toji’s known for his record of lasting a good ah . . . two solid rounds.”

toji glares, feeling himself start to open you up again. with his plump crownhead of his cock, he splits you open, and he is a tad thicker than sukuna—you moan, wrapping flimsy arms around him before sukuna enters from behind with toji focusing on the front. “shut up. you say that ‘n act like i won’t k.o. you right now.”

“oh yeah?” sukuna cavils, and you gasp, landing on the cold canvas with an 'oof' once the boxer lightly places you down. you pout—glancing up at the two of them who were having a face off at a time like this. sukuna already pulled out and they stared each other down before toji slyly smiles. “is that a fact?” and for a brief moment, he leers down at toji’s sheeny lips— the dark-haired boxer slides his tongue against his scar before humming.

“don’t play, you know it is,” he replies, giving you one ogle before turning back towards his rival. “y’know, ‘kuna. you sure talk a lot of shit but you couldn’t even pin me down if you tried.”

sukuna rasps lowly, inching closer before they were inches apart—you thought they were gonna kiss at this rate. oh, something like this would be such a good inspiration for the headlines.

“if you wanted my attention, should have said so,” sukuna sneers, rubbing his hand that was carefully wrapped up in a white bandage against his slim torso. “besides, i think we all know who can last more rounds.”

“did you two just forget about me—?” you furrow your eyebrows, literally still soaked and laid against the corner of the ring. they shoot you a glance before turning back towards each other.

toji scoffs back at sukuna, ignoring you. “prove it then. pin me the fuck down, hot shot.”

“bend the fuck over then, big guy. we’ll show the pretty journalist who’s gonna win this night’s match. round fuckin’ one.”

[a-hazbin-reader]

I just found your blog today and OUUUGHHH ALL THE X READERS ARE SOOO GOOD? ESPECIALLY THE PLATONIC ONES? WE LIVE FOR THE CHAOTIC Y/N <3 FUCK EM UPPPP <333

If you're looking for ideas, what about a reader that is friends with both Rosie and Alastor and notices that the reader is catching feelings for Alastor? I think she'd be support them, maybe poke Alkastor since he's not likely to get the hint wioth reader not saying it directly lol

Thank you for considering and I hope you're having fun out there! Ur favs loooove yooou <33

This is just so adorable????

Rosie X Reader Headcanons

Plus a little Alastor X Reader too

❌️Romantic

✅️Platonic

TW: Reader being BULLIED with affection, Rosie interferes with everything, Romantic Alastor X Reader

Description: ☝️⬆️

Rosie claims that matters of the heart are her specialty, and who is anybody to disagree with her??

She is quick to identify what someone is feeling and her friends are no exception to the rule

So when she notices you're starting to act strangely around your mutual friend Alastor...she's quick to figure out what's going on with you

You and Alastor are having drinks together and you're laughing a little too much?? Cheeks a little too pink?? Oh she saw that

Alastor is singing and dancing?? Rosie couldn't help but notice that you were completely enraptured by him, hanging onto every moment

You also happen to have a bad habit of looking away whenever Alastor compliments you, trying to hide a blush perhaps?

Well aren't you just adorable

Now Rosie won't corner you or anything like that, she won't pry the truth out of you even if she's dying to

But she does kind of trick you into admitting you're feelings to her, inviting you out for the day and slyly bringing Alastor up

You're so cute when you're flustered and choking on your drink

"Now now~ There's nothin' to be embarrassed about! Just let Rosie know what you're feelin' and she'll sort it out for ya!"

She's so good to you

"I guess my head has kinda been all over the place lately..."

Rosie slowly gets the truth to come out of you, and boy, is she pleased as punch to find out you're falling in love with Alastor

All Rosie wants is her two friends to be happy and if she can make it happen?? She'll make it happen, she's putting all her cards on the table for this one

She promises you that she won't tell your secret or intervene in any way

But she forgot to tell you that her fingers were totally crossed

Rosie tries to start out small and subtle, even visiting the hotel and getting the others involved

Suddenly everyone is talking about you and how talented you are, how lovely you always look, what you did today

"Y/N, look at that outfit! You look fucking hot today!"

"Uh..thanks Angel..?"

Charlie and Vaggie are always pairing you and Alastor together for anything they can think of

Niffty has suddenly taken to tripping you in front of Alastor but you needn't worry, he always catches you

Husk tries to stay out of it initially but even he gets caught up in it, admitting you two would be good together

Even random people on the street are giving you extra attention whenever you're out with Alastor

Alastor can't seem to get you out of his head all of a sudden, can't shake the intrusive thoughts of you

No matter

When being subtle doesn't work then Rosie switches gears, taking a page out of Niffty's book

No she's not going to trip you

Finds excuses to have you run errands for her, somehow always leading you to bumping into Alastor

And Alastor, ever the gentleman, always walks you back and keeps you company along the way

He finds himself getting more and more fond of you, more so than he was before, he feels a little strange

Finds himself wanting to be closer to you, seeing you in a different light than before, were you always so pretty to look at???

Rosie is pleased with her progress but annoyed by the fact that Alastor still hasn't taken a hint and that you still haven't confessed

That's fine, she's got ways

She starts having flowers and little gifts sent to you when she knows you're with Alastor, faking a secret admirer

Oh he doesn't like that

Alastor feels something ugly twist in his gut when he sees your face flush as you delicately pick at the flowers, flattered

After the fourth gift that was sent to you Alastor started to get more than annoyed, trying to figure out who was taking up your attention

Imagine his surprise when the paper trail leads back to Rosie

Okay now he's legitimately worried about losing you, Rosie is a smooth she-devil

"Alastor! What brings you here-"

"I know what you've been up to, my dear."

Rosie isn't nervous, but she's definitely surprised that he figured her out, she was only trying to help you out

Alastor skips all the pleasantries and immediately just asks her if she's trying to court you

Oh...so he got it wrong...that's hilarious

"Oh my stars~! No no no~!" She literally can't stop the laughter at this point

Now Alastor is confused, why was she pretending to be your secret admirer then?

Rosie tries to lead Alastor to his own conclusion about why she did it but all of a sudden he's turned into an idiot

She really doesn't want to out your secret

But she also has been working towards this for months now

So she blurts out the fact that you're in love with him and that she's been trying to set you both up together this entire time and it feels so good to let it all out and-

Alastor simply holds a hand up to stop her, looking a little overwhelmed by the news but Rosie also detects a hint of relief??

Maybe he did grow an extra soft spot for you after all??

After confirming with Alastor that you did indeed explicitly tell her that you fell for him, Rosie watches him leave

She also refuses to apologize for interfering in his love life, a girl has gotta look out for her friends

She honestly doesn't know which way things are going to go but is pleasantly surprised when you give her a ring the next day

"Rosie! Are you free today? You won't believe what happened last night! I can't wait to tell you!"

They should call her Cupid from now on

She always hounds you for the details on your dates and is always giving Alastor tips on what you would like

"Come now, was snuggling really all you two did after dinner?"

"R-ROSIE-"

"Oh Alastor, you should really get those earrings for Y/N~! They would absolutely sparkle on them~!"

Tells everyone that she's the reason you two are together, she's just so proud of herself

She wants to plan your wedding for you

WOAH

This one was such a cute idea!! I really hope it's what you wanted!!

[phyrestartr]

Icarus, I Am Devoted | Sukuna x M!Reader

Main Fic W/C: 5.9k Bonus Drabbles W/C: 1.6k

[#Modern AU, ABO dynamics, bottom!reader, top!sukuna, Mob Boss!Sukuna, Alpha!Sukuna, Street Doctor!Reader, Omega!Reader, toxic relationships, age gap, sukuna is mid 30s, yuuji gang and reader are mid 20s, sukuna and yuuji are brothers, sukuna has FEELINGS, but he is BAD AT FEELINGS, nsfw, fluff, hurt/comfort, I KINDA EDITED BUT I JUST WANT THIS TO BE YEETED INTO THE OPEN OK BYE SORRY IF PARTS ARE CLUNKY]

@better-imagination-9 I summon thee

--

Sukuna didn't like Yuuji getting caught up in his business. 

He was too brash, thought himself too badass for the world to take down, thought gang life wasn't as bad as it was made out to be, just because his older brother was involved. Sukuna didn't know where the fuck he got that idea–the tattooed menace had killed people, stolen money, sold shit that ruined lives. It was fun for him, sure, but not so much for bystanders. 

“You're an idiot,” Sukuna growled as he dragged his brother into his office and threw him at the chaise lounge while they waited for their doctor on demand. 

“H-hey, come on, man! It's, uh, it's not even that bad–” Yuuji grimaced, though, holding at the wound gushing blood from his arm. “You've had worse!”

Sukuna laughed bitterly as his henchmen flooded the room and made necessary preparations for their aid's arrival. “You and I are fucking built different, Yuuji--you’re too damn soft for–”

“I'm not,” Yuuji snapped, honeyed eyes blazing. “I'm not.” 

Sukuna laughed again, then ripped his plush, leather chair across the room, sending it hurtling into the expensive ebony walls he encased his place of business in. He roared in overwhelming fury as it clattered to the floor. 

“How hard is it for you to listen? How come you can never just fucking–” 

“Yelling won't solve things,” your cool voice interrupted as you hurried into the room, medical bag in hand. “I thought you learned that by now.” 

Sukuna whirled on his heel. His hands were still fisted in his hair and his blood boiled, but now, there existed an explosive tension with you in the room. 

You, his pretty little omega. The one he chased away. The one he still craved. The one that drove him insane. 

“Uraume,” Sukuna growled, crimson eyes locking onto his most devoted. 

“My apologies,” they said with a pensive look and deep bow, “he was the only one willing to come.” 

“So mind your manners, or I'll let your brother bleed out,” you said airily, so haughty and bitchy and annoying. But Sukuna knew you wouldn't let Yuuji die. You wouldn't let him suffer with a wound like that–you were too fond of the little brat. 

Sukuna snarled in frustration and fixed his jacket with sharp tugs. “Just fix him.”

He stalked away, ignoring the way Yuuji yelled at him before preening at you as you tended to him. Sukuna knew his brother had a bit of a thing for you, his bitch, which caused more than a handful of problems with the two arguing and fighting for your affections. Naturally, you chose Sukuna. Of course you would.

The alpha's frustrations boiled, reducing the rage in his gut into simmering desire. He leaned his head back against the elevator mirror with a sigh as it shot up toward the penthouse--the one you, too, used to occupy. The one where you'd spread your legs for him, drowning in expensive, black silk sheets while he bred you like the good little thing you were. The one where you'd cook for him if (when) you woke up before him the morning after. The one where you first whispered I love you against his skin when you thought he was asleep.

The elevator doors dinged open, and he stormed out, eager to rid himself of the tightness pulling at his slacks. A cigar and a drink sounded good, too. 

–

Ding. 

He knew it was you. It had to be you. You were a good person, willing to let Uraume rest while you gave your ex the update he needed about his brother. After all, you didn't fear him, nor did you yearn to please him. You were more than capable of delivering shit news and getting off scotch free. 

“So?” Sukuna took a deep puff from his cigar and leaned further into the balcony railing as you approached. 

You hummed as you sidled up next to him, tucking some of your hair behind your ear as the breeze tugged at it. “He'll be fine. Yuuji's tough. He's a bit shaken up now that the adrenaline’s worn off, though.” 

“Maybe that'll teach that idiot not to get shot.” 

“Probably not.” 

“Probably not,” Sukuna sighed, tapping off a dash of ash from the butt of his cigar just before it was plucked from his hands. “Oi.” 

“These things'll kill you,” you scolded airily. “So will that.” You tried reaching for the crystalline glass of amber, too, when Sukuna scoffed and took a sip to spite you. 

“Don't,” he snarled. Any normal omega would have backed away. Any normal omega would have keened. Any normal omega would have tried to please him up with a sweet scent of submission. But you were a different breed entirely. 

“Don't growl at me–” you gaped as Sukuna downed the expensive liquor before whipping the glass at the skyline. “Sukuna.”

He stalked back into his penthouse with heavy steps as he ran his hands through his hair. He had to busy his fingers, his palms, just so he wasn't tempted to touch you, to grab you like he was used to. It'd been years since you were properly together–properly engaged in fact–but he still couldn't shake those infuriating fucking habits. You were a cancer in his mind, plaguing his body and thoughts. 

But he didn't want you to leave. Maybe he liked the chase. Maybe he just liked how his entire, explosive world narrowed down to just one infuriating thing that he wanted so badly. He didn't know. Maybe he didn't need to know. 

Sukuna poured himself another drink and collapsed onto his soft leather couch with a deep sigh. His arms draped along the back, one hand still holding the glass by the rim. He let his head fall back, and stared at the ceiling. 

Thankfully, you wandered in. And you wandered toward him, not to the door like you usually did when his temper flared and he acted out. Something small and pathetic in him uncoiled and settled down, purring in content when you took a seat beside him. 

“What's going on?” you asked quietly. Your fingertips singed sparks of pleasure against his skin where you touched: his cheekbones, his hairline, his furrowed brow.

He lolled his head to the side to look at you, his stupid pretty boy. “Nothing.” Not even Sukuna believed that.

You brushed his hair back, and the stupid alpha in him rose to the surface and moaned. “Yuuji’s not behaving?” Your warm palm cupped his cheek, and he leaned into it. 

“That little shit never behaves,” he mumbled through the vibrato of purrs rumbling from his chest. “Gonna make me die young.” 

“Hm. Is that why you haven't slept?” 

“I'm sleeping.”

“How much?”

“Enough.”

“Sukuna.”

“I said–” 

“You and I have different definitions of ‘enough,’” you chided lightly, like you were scolding one of your cats. “You look tired.” 

“Maybe it's because my mate scampered off in the middle of the night.” 

“Don't blame this on me.” 

“Why not?” Wine-red eyes glowered at you, deciding whether he should dominate or decimate you. “It's your fault.” 

You recoiled the slightest bit, your top lip twitching in that oh-so familiar way it did whenever you were close to snarling and snapping at him. You had such a temper for such a calm thing. Sukuna would be lying if he said he didn't try to rile you up on purpose. 

“Ho? What,” he started, grinning wickedly when you made a move to get up, but his arms snaked around you and held like wrought iron. “Feelin’ guilty?” 

“No,” you hissed, half-pissed by his drink spilling on you, half-pissed by his accusation. “Let go. I'm leaving.” 

“Leaving?” He crooned. “You always get so pissy when I don't wanna talk, ‘n now that I'm in the mood, you're tryna leave? Come on, sweetheart, that's not fair.” 

“I don't feel like fucking fighting tonight,” you snapped, and Sukuna stayed quiet for a change. “Yuuji got shot. You look like shit. And we--I haven't–” you took a deep breath. “Can't we just be civil for a night? Can't we just talk about–”

“About what?”

“About whatever.” 

“Fine.”

“Alright. Okay.” 

Somewhere behind the haze of alcohol, Sukuna's consciousness celebrated–this could be his shot at starting to fix things. This was his moment to rebuild that lost relationship and maybe clean up a space in his life for you to sit safely in. Your expectant expression agreed with him. You looked quite cute, what with your big eyes and the way you leaned into him. But instead–

“Was it a boy or a girl?” Sukuna asked before taking a sip of whatever remained in his glass. 

You blinked and shook your head, eyes narrowing the slightest as you looked over his face. “What?” You asked. 

Sukuna snorted and turned to face you, one arm gesturing with his scotch glass while the other arm stayed slung across the back of the couch. “I said,” he started, gesturing to your stomach and chuckling through his low, bassy words, “boy or girl? If it was a girl, then maybe the world did you a favour. You know how it is for women in this day and age.” 

You stared blankly like you were shellshocked, and Sukuna bubbled with near-manic, reedy laughter until you got up and walked to the door. 

“Oi, where the hell are you going, huh?” He got up and followed you, hastening his steps when he saw you b-line for the door. “Omega.” He grabbed your wrist and pulled you back, purring into your ear as he pressed his chest to your back. “Come on, we can make another one. You'd like that, huh?” 

“Get off,” you barked, ripping his arms away from you. But he grabbed you again and spun you back to face him. You shoved him back, your mind whirling in a chaotic waltz drenched with grey thoughts and crimson rain that almost drowned out the words he barked at you until–

Whack. 

He hit you. Backhanded, fingers adorned with thick, bulky rings and knuckles that'd seen too many fights. A natural disaster contained in the vessel of a mortal man–sometimes, he didn't know his own capabilities.

“Shit,” Sukuna mumbled, scrambling to set down his glass to, what, tend to you? Rewind time? Sure. “Babe–” 

But you, too, were a natural disaster. The tsunami that came after an earthquake, raising tides high and staring down at split earth with a taunt: you think you're bad? Watch this.

Thwack. 

You snatched up that bottle of fancy scotch and hit a home run, watching Sukuna collapse to the floor.

–

Sukuna woke up with a concussion, his wallet missing, and one of his favourite cars torched. 

It got him riled up. He was too ready to hunt you down and make you rectify your mistakes–that is, until he remembered why you did what you did. 

Boy or girl?

Maybe the world did you a favour.

Fuck. He flew way too close to the sun this time.

He watched you stack up expenses on his card instead of hunting you. Your little rage-filled crime spree was kind of funny anyway, and he couldn’t help but hope it made you feel at least a little better. 

Though he knew it could never. Nothing could make it better. 

–

“You should quit messing around with him,” Ieiri said as she tended to the half-dead gangster laying on her operating table. “He's bad news. A kid like you shouldn’t be getting involved.” 

The one little, wiggly lucid part of Sukuna wanted to strangle Ieiri; you were young, sure, but not stupid. Sukuna wouldn't go so far as to say you were mature for your age, no, but you'd been beaten down by life and forced into the role of an adult for long enough that it'd changed your way of thinking, of perceiving the world. You could make your own choices–just as long as it involved him. 

“You're not the first person to tell me that,” you said softly, words rising with a small, warm chuckle. “Good guys try way too hard to put on a show, to hide how garbage they can be.” You squeezed Sukuna's hand and ran your thumb over his split knuckles. “Guys like him show you who they really are right away. Then, you get to figure out what his good side is like.” 

–

You were there again. In the elevator, looking a little pensive beyond your cool exterior. 

Sukuna took a drag from his cigarette as he stepped in beside you. The button for his penthouse leered at him and whispered, “you have time.” 

All he had to do was think of what to say. The right course of action was obvious, but–well, was it really his fault? He couldn't accept that 100%. You clocked him upside the head with a fucking glass bottle and stole his– 

“Those things'll kill you.” Your fingers snatched the smoke from his lips before he realized it. He caught you butting it out on the fancy gold railings. 

“I like things that can kill me,” he hummed, lighting another cigarette and chuckling when you snatched that one too. “What, scared of a little competition?” 

“Yes.” 

Oh. Sukuna liked that.

“I, uh,” you started, fumbling with your pockets before handing something over. “Found this.” 

Sukuna glanced your way finally. He couldn't help but laugh as he plucked the wallet from your hands. 

“Found it, huh?” 

“Mhm.” 

“Such a benevolent, pious thing. I would've kept it.” 

“Yeah, well. You're a dick. ‘Course you would.” 

“Where'd you find it?” 

“My pocket.” 

“No shit.” 

“Yeah. Weird.” 

The elevator doors dinged open, revealing the empty hall leading to the penthouse. He glanced down at the door before looking back down at you. 

“Have a drink with me.”

Your expression soured. 

Sukuna threw his arm against the doors to keep them open. “Coffee?” 

Your brows lifted, the creases smoothing from your face. “Coffee.” 

Sukuna's alpha bloomed with pleased content. He sidled up next to you and rested his broad hand on the small of your back, leading you down the hall. 

“With a bit of Baileys.”

“No Baileys.”

–

He let you try to sooth his stress while you waited for your favourite, poor-person coffee to brew. 

You straddled his thick thighs as you kissed at his neck. Your hands roamed and threaded through his gelled hair, your blunt nails dragged along his scalp, coaxing rumbling purrs out of your alpha.

“Shit,” he moaned, leaning back into your hands, digging his head into your digits and grumbling like an old dog. You hummed in sympathy, and gave him harsher scritches, making his knee bounce in double time like a dog getting the spot scratched.

You weren’t done, though. You licked at his neck’s scent gland and coaxed more of his natural musk to the surface to mix with yours–a classic way to get one’s partner to calm down. You were methodical as fuck about it, too, knowing how Sukuna’s stress abruptly blocked any good scents in favour of excreting foul, angry odors into the air when he was pissed. Or, sometimes, he’d shut down completely, the only scent coming from what clung to his skin and clothes. 

And so, he needed a little more TLC to get things flowing again, to make his body disarm and let the good vibes flow. 

You nipped the swollen spot lightly, eliciting a strangled growl from the man. “Too rough?” Your tongue pressed at the spot again, and pulled more of that deep purring out of him. “Maybe not.” 

“By all means, rough me up.” That was as close to a warning as you would get from a greedy bastard like Sukuna. He wanted you to bite harder, to break skin and set the wild tornado of a mating rut into motion. You were careful to avoid him when your unholy heats crashed down on you, but being in the presence of your estranged man when he was set off–well, it’d jumpstart your sex-crazed frenzy, too. 

“Raincheck,” you murmured. 

He huffed and rubbed circles in your hips before grabbing your ass and squeezing. “When's the last time–” 

The coffee maker sang a tune and you got off, saved from your warm, fuzzy marking daze. “Does it matter?”

Sukuna got up and stalked after you, rubbing the ache out of his shoulder. “Like it or not, we're stuck with our binding vow.” His chest pressed to your back, his arms slipping around your waist as he leaned down to nuzzle into your skin. “Mated for life.” He couldn't help the smile that branded into your neck. 

You cleared your throat and snatched up two mugs. “There're surgeries–”

“No.” 

“How do you take your coffee again?” Hah. You didn't even try to argue it.

Sukuna's ego boomed. His scent grew more dominating and demanding in tow. “You know how I like it. You know the way I like everything.”

You scoffed and slapped his hand away, the sweet, teasing omega that happily marked him up and scented him to high heaven gone, now replaced with your annoying, bratty self. Ugh. He loved it as much as he hated it.

“You used to be cuter,” Sukuna commented, quiet and breathy, so out of character. His hands retreated back to hold your waist instead of keeping you trapped against him. “What happened to–”

“You know what happened.” You sounded tired, too. Angry. But not at the Sukuna standing with you right then and there. 

Sukuna's old friend, unyielding frustration, bore down on him. He sucked his teeth and beat down the urge to snap, to yell and scream, claim it wasn't his fucking fault and that you never filled him in, so how could–

His forehead pressed against your shoulder. “I don't,” he sighed. “I don't fucking know, (Name). We lost our kid, I know that much, so what the fuck else is there?” 

For a moment, he thought he'd lost you again. He expected you to whirl around, throw a cup at his head and curse him to hell to start off another fight; instead, you slipped out of his hands gently, and replaced your warmth with a cup of coffee. 

“Come sit.” 

Sukuna complied. 

You tucked your legs up under you when you sat down. Your own mug was held snugly with both hands, yet your fingers fidgeted, twirling around whatever rings you had on while you thought of what to say. 

“So,” you started. “How much do you know?”

Sukuna leaned back and thought. “Uraume called. Said something was wrong.” He could remember their voice ringing in his ear, that usual, frigid demeanor exploding into something panicked and tortured as they tried to comfort you, order idiots around, and explain the situation. “They didn’t know what, but said you were bein’ taken to Ieiri. I met ‘em there, Gojo wouldn’t let me come in.” He sighed, the memories pricking his nerves. “Told me you miscarried, and–well, that’s more or less it.” 

You nodded a little, digesting the scraps of knowledge that’d been given to Sukuna. “I was alone,” you breathed. “I was–I’d been cramping. A lot. I thought–I didn't know–I just–I thought it was normal.” You cleared your throat, fidgeting more and only stilling when Sukuna's palm rested on your leg. You covered his hand with one of yours. “There was a lot of blood. I thought I was dying. Uraume and Yuuji took me to Ieiri.” 

Sukuna remembered that, too. He remembered catching sight of you just before his brother carried you away from him. It was hard to forget the sound of your wailing amidst all that red–that damned noise came from hell itself, from the burning, fetid pits of agony and despair and up through your beautiful voice. For something so foul to touch you was nothing but blasphemous.

Sukuna tried to follow you in, but that moron Gojo wouldn’t let him in, spouting some bullshit about how he’d make things worse. Needless to say, Sukuna snapped, and Ieiri suddenly had more than a mourning omega to deal with.

“I pinned it on you to cope. I didn’t know what else to do.” You spared a shy glance at him before staring down again. “...Uraume filled me in, though. You were dealing with so much shit. All that crap with the Zenins. And you didn’t even–you didn’t even know I was knocked up until I wasn’t.” You sighed and sipped your drink before setting it aside. “Guess it was easier to blame you for everything than it was to just accept I got unlucky.” 

“‘Unlucky’?” Sukuna repeated lowly, void of mirth for once.

You nodded. “Chromosome bullshit, garbage genetics, a shitty cervix. Coulda been anything.” Sukuna watched your expression shift from desolate to bitter. “And if you fuck up once and lose your pup, odds are it’ll happen again.”

“Says who?”

“Science. Doctors.”

“You really gonna take their word like that?” Your eyes met his, doey and expectant. “I'll gut ‘em myself if they say that shit next time you're knocked up.”

You looked a bit bashful then, looking away from him with pursed lips and glossy eyes. For a second, Sukuna thought you were about to snap and argue with him about how you vowed to never get pregnant again (which he'd indulge in), or maybe even bolt for the door (which he wouldn't allow), but instead, you grabbed the remote. 

“Tch. Don't say such stupid shit. It's annoying.” 

Sukuna could only grin to himself as you settled in beside him, tucking up against his side. Neither of you could swallow your pride enough to properly apologize for anything ever, but that wasn't necessarily needed–understanding was what was needed. Things had just become a little bit clearer. 

–

For once, the alpha found himself at ease. Sure, you had your petty and some less-than-petty spats, but there was a coil of contentment that stayed at the forefront of Sukuna's mind through it all. Now, he no longer fumed nor bristled, no longer wondered if you really belonged to him, no longer thought about how to trap you if he wanted to keep you around. 

Because you made more of an effort to see him, to call when you couldn't, to set his vicious wolf's heart at ease so he could rest soundly. He rested the most when you were so gracious as to curl up in those black, silken sheets with him, too.

Don't get too excited. It's just because we're mated; we'd go insane otherwise, Is how you rationalized it. And, honestly, it was cute to see you act so flippant and uncaring when Sukuna knew you were so the opposite. 

Little liar. Loves playing pretend. He gently tucked stray hairs behind your ear as you snoozed soundly beside him. It was unlike you to sleep in so late (“late” meaning past 6am), and it was unlike Sukuna to wake up before you, so it must have been kismet. 

Because this moment was the first in a long time where he got to touch you. Beyond the playful ass slaps and grabs at your hips, you never really let him feel you. Or did he just never try to touch you like this? Gently, just for the sake of feeling your skin and your warmth? 

Sukuna was a brutal man. He didn't often have a chance to be careful. If he'd had that kid, then he might've learned how; he could've learned not to throw glasses at skylines, not to lash out at his omega, not to expect you to still love you when he broke you. 

He brushed his thumb along your cheek and down to your jaw, admiring the soft skin and strong angle that led him to the curve of your chin, and your perfect lips. God, he wanted to kiss you. It'd been an eternity since he had a taste of you. Maybe if he was gentle–

I can do gentle. Sukuna shifted the slightest bit towards you until his nose lightly brushed against yours, until he felt your light breaths fan against his skin. Ah, why was his heart beating so fast now?

He did his best to ignore the way his pulse thundered in his ears when he brushed his lips against yours once more, before he kissed you softly. Gently. Perfectly. And he took his time parting. He had to savour the taste of your lips against his because who knew when he'd get to kiss you again? 

I love you, he heard echo in his memories when your lips parted. But he never heard himself reply. 

“Love you too, brat,” he murmured. “Don't you dare think otherwise.” 

Your eyes opened a moment later. “You mean that?” came your reply, just as light and whispered. Sukuna felt waves of heat come off your skin–were you blushing?

Crimson eyes flickered from your bashful look to the slight parting of your lips and back again. “Always.” Even though he never said it. But he let you get away with everything to show that love–credit card theft, cracking him upside the head with a bottle, abandoning him for months on end.

A soft ‘hm’ hummed through you. Your sleepy gaze melted from Sukuna’s, and down to his lips, too, while your own pursed, pensive. Thoughtful. Christ, you were really something else–just a single look from you had his mind reeling, his chest easing into a warmth so reminiscent of a campfire, the sort you both used to sit around when you’d bullied Sukuna into buying one for his too-big balcony. 

Back then, you were just “friends,” though the flirting and meaningful touches said otherwise. You were still a street doctor, introduced to him by Yuuji of all people, but you had more pep in your step, especially when you worked to try and swoon the hardened, deranged alpha you’d decided belonged to you. You’re mine, you said simply after shooting whatever whore the big, bad boss had hired for the night. The look in your eyes, cold and determined, got Sukuna achingly hard in an instant. He never wanted you to look at anyone else like that–your rage, your obsession, it could only ever be for him.

“‘M I still yours?” You still want me? You still love me? Am I still just for you?

You looked a little sentimental. A little sad, too, maybe. But maybe it was just the culmination of your fears and worries, your wants and desires finally breaking through your solemn being. 

“I'm a minimalist at heart. I've only got room for so much.”

“Don't tell me you're back on that Kondo Marie kick–” 

“But you're something I can't do without.” Yeah, I love you. I want you. I don't want much, but I want you. You're mine. “You bring me joy, or whatever the saying is. But I wanna beat the shit outta you sometimes for being a dumbass.” 

Sukuna laughed and nudged your nose with his–a small, primal gesture of fondness. “Yeah, yeah, I'm aware. Tch. You're gonna have to be careful--you're gonna send my old ass to an early grave if you keep up with all this fiery youth shit.”

“Then I can inherit your fortune,” you offered airily before kissing him teasingly. Sukuna growled when your small fangs dug into his bottom lip playfully. “That'd be nice.” 

“Hah. Everything's going to family–Yuuji, the old fart.” Sukuna pulled you in closer and purred as you complied. “You'd have to–”

“I'll marry you if that's what it takes,” you cooed, and Sukuna froze. You paused for a moment, too, before lifting yourself up to look down at his dumb face. “Oi.” You pat his cheek lightly but he scowled at you, half-cranky, half-defeated. “Eeeh? You mad?”

“Tch.”

“Awe, big alpha's mad.”

“Don't.” A command. A warning. One that had your subgender reeling and whimpering behind you, but your human side smiling, ready to mock. 

You slid on top of him, straddling his waist and splaying your hands out on his broad, solid chest. Sukuna still kept his gaze elsewhere. Honestly, you couldn't blame him--you were in a mood. 

“Oi,” you prodded, poking at his ridiculous pecs and tracing over the dark lines of his irezumi. “Hey. Don't pout.” But he grabbed your hands when your stupid fingers threatened to assault his nipples, and he continued to pout. “Come on, I said I'd marry you.” 

“Tch.” You've said that before. 

“I mean it.” 

“Tch.” You’ve said that before, too.

You leaned down, and nuzzled the hollow of his cheek while he grumbled and grumped. “You don't like the idea of breeding me anymore? You don't want me to yourself, all caught up in your bedsheets with you between my legs? Hm? You don't wanna fuck me through my heat, knock me up a few more times, make me bare your children for the world to see how I belong to Ryoumen Sukuna? You don't want me to be drenched in your scent–” 

You squeaked when your man flipped you around, pinning you before ripping off the sleep shorts keeping your skin from him. His rough fingers dove deep into your slicked up hole (apparently your long list of hypotheticals had worked you up into a soft, wet, pliant thing) and hurried to stretch you wide. 

“Such an annoying little shit,” Sukuna grumbled. And you laughed, lightly and so achingly genuinely through your fluttery mewls and moans. “If you try ‘n back out this time, I'll break your fucking legs and tie you down to the bed, you got that? I'm not gonna be so fucking nice this time.”

“Eh? You were being nice last–” you whined when his wet fingers jammed into your mouth. But you obediently sucked and bit at them, holding onto his muscled arm for leverage while he kicked off his bottoms and pressed his sweltering tip to your soft entrance. 

“You got no idea, princess.” Sukuna pushed in, groaning with ancient, cursed need as your insides welcomed him and obeyed, letting his uncomfortable size push you open. Seemed your body still remembered him. Wanted him as much as your stupid pretty mouth claimed. 

You were gasping, your molars chewing into his fingers as your missing piece slid back into place, filling you up until it hurt to breathe. Strong thighs clamped down against Sukuna’s sides as he dragged you down, forcing the last bits of his cock into your very depths, squeezing a reedy whine out of you, before he pulled out and slammed right back in again and again and again.

Your cry nearly sent him over the edge. It was a loud, bassy thing, something like a cello toppling or having its string plucked too hard by a callous touch–a sound Sukuna reveled in. You were the only partner he'd had that was like this, so demanding and bitchy, absolutely horrible and as poisonous as alphas were, and he loved it. He lived and died by your gospel, by the very life that thrummed underneath his touch.

And you promised to be all his. Sukuna could have everything, anything and anyone, and that apparently included trapping and claiming a god. One that only he prayed to. One that'd only smile upon him. One that only delivered to him divine blessings. 

What a divine gift.

He folded you in half with ease and blanketed your trembling body with his own. The fingers fucking into your mouth slipped out and down to your throat where they squeezed lightly; then, they traveled to the back of your neck, found your cute little nape, and squeezed. 

Your eyes rolled back as your body arched up into him. Words left you in some ancient tongue neither you nor Sukuna could decipher. But it was a language of love and pleasure, the sort that brought delicious submission coiling through your blood in offering to the lowly creature devouring your holiness. 

“Sukuna,” you choked out. Your fingers dug into his shoulder and fisted in his hair, pulling him closer to the old, scarred mark left there by him a decade ago. “‘Kuna, I need–” 

The boss laughed low, but with fluttery, manic high tones warped throughout. “Need me to bite you? Mark you mine again?” He taunted. His nails dug into your soft side as he fucked into you harder, lifting your waist up to meet his brutal angle as his base started to swell. “I wanna hear you say it–say you need it, you want it. Say you need me to fill your guts every fucking night. Say I'm the only one who can get you there. I'm the only one–” his other hand grabbed your nape harder, forcing your submission further, forcing your neck to the side to present it to him. 

Then, with a snarl, he added, “say ‘I do.’” 

Your arms wrapped around his shoulders as you murmured those very words into his ear. 

I do. 

Sukuna's heart howled with the beast living inside him. Blood flooded his mouth when he tore into your shoulder, digging deeper than needed to brand you his again just before his pulsing knot squeezed into you and locked into place, stilling his wild rampage and holding you hostage beneath his hulking body. 

You shifted and writhed against him, so obviously overwhelmed by such an archaic, crazed union–your omega must have been going wild, willing you to fight against the monster pouring his seed into you, locking you in place, taking away your autonomy. But a short, rough warning growl settled your inner self the slightest bit and straightened out your thoughts enough for your human pettiness to urge you, too, to sink teeth into flesh and mark up your alpha to complete the re-bonding. 

Good boy. Sukuna's hips rutted against you in light pulses, attempting to jam his knot further into you to ensure you'd take everything he so graciously offered you. But every little move your bodies made together tore more hot strings of cum out of him and into your core. Apparently an eternity of not having you was culminating into this one moment. 

You were the one to let go first. You collapsed onto your back with a loud sigh, and the crushing constriction of your thighs laxed just slightly. 

“Fuck,” you gasped, wholly content and pleased. Your hand wiggled between your bodies and rested on the still-inflating curve that your partner had oh-so loving built out of cum and obsessive dedication. “That's gonna make a mess.” 

Good. Sukuna's chainsaw purr reverberated against your bloodied skin. He chewed into you further and relished in the taste and smell of you, the way it mingled with his own scent of existence and made him feel so irrevocably whole. 

Your fingers laced through his hair as you laughed. “Oi, let go already. Your knot's not gonna go down for like thirty minutes. I'm not going anywhere.” 

Your mate obliged, dislodging his chunky fangs from you and lapping at the wound dutifully until the bleeding staunched. Next, he got to work leaving an array of dark hickies and light bites all over your neck and shoulder, just in case the gnarly bite mark wasn't enough to ward off idiots who thought they had a chance with you. He grumbled at the mere idea of it. 

“So?” You cooed, running your hands up and down his muscled shoulders. “What do we do for half an hour?”

Sukuna scoffed. He tried to pull out just a bit, just to see if he was seriously locked in there, and you spat a vile hiss his way, your nails digging into him at the same time. And, fuck, you were tight–

“Fuck.” He didn't think this through.

-- DRABBLES --

“You're dumb as fuck, you know that?” 

“Ah, such romantic words to hear from my wife.”

“Husband, jackass.” 

Sukuna managed to open his eyes through the pounding of his head. God, he felt like shit. But that probably came with the territory of getting shot point-blank before bailing out of a moving car on the highway. Honestly, he was lucky only one car hit him when he hit the pavement. 

Still, it was bad enough to warrant him a ticket to the hospital. Uraume worked behind the scenes, ensuring their boss got a private room and that the police would stay the fuck away if they knew what was good for them, and it all somehow worked out. Uraume was definitely a sorcerer of sorts.

“Can you save it for home? Fucking hell,” Sukuna groaned, letting his eyes fall shut again. “Too tired to argue.” 

“That's a first,” You huffed, and marched up to his side, sitting down in the cozy seat waiting for you. Your careful touch prodded at his hand gently, as if assessing the damage, guestimating if you could hold his hand without hurting him, but he made the choice for you. He caught your hand weakly, and you held him safe with both of yours. 

“Missed you,” he grumbled, squeezing back lamely. “Have fun on the trip at least?”

“Yeah, until I heard what happened.” You sighed, watery and warbled. “I shouldn't have left. You're too stupid to survive alone.”

Sukuna laughed, then coughed. He felt you tense. “F-Fuck you, little shit. I'm fine.”

“You got shot.”

“Been shot before.”

“Jumped out of a car.”

“I've jumped outta faster.”

“Then got hit by another car.”

“That was a first.”

You sighed to fight back either a sob or ill-placed laughter, or maybe both. “This is so fucking ridiculous. Never make me take a vacation again. I can't be off fucking around in Hawaii when my baby daddy's getting hit like it's GTA.” 

“Christ, I already–” he paused, though, and cracked an eye open to look at you. “What did you…” 

He lost his words when he saw you. Your skin glowed in a way he hadn't had the luxury to see before. Your face looked rounder, too, like you'd put on a little bit of weight since you'd been gone. But your scent–your usual sweet, full-bodied scent of flowery coffee was cranked up to a trillion. If Sukuna's nose wasn't busted, he would've noticed the way it filled up the room, and he might've noticed how his own scent rose to meet it in greeting. Something strange was happening. 

“Oh. Right. Uh…” you cleared your throat and hastily tucked some hair behind your ear. You looked a little bit lost for words too, in all honesty. “I’m pregn–”

Sukuna sat up. You barked at him to lay down, your voice rising a few octaves when something that was probably important dislodged from his wrist as he reached forward when you stood. And you froze when his palm pressed against your stomach–a natural, maternal thing to do. Sukuna remembered when he caught your cat for you when she was trying to dart out the door whilst pregnant, and how she froze dead in her tracks when his hand caught her by her kitten-filled stomach, and let him carry her back inside. 

But this was different. This wasn’t his partner’s cat’s kittens he was feeling, it was yours. His. A shared little nugget doing its best to grow big for its expectant mama–and now expectant papa. 

“How long?” Sukuna rasped. When did his throat get so dry? 

“Two months. Ish.” You rested your hands over his again despite the awkward angle he caught you at. “I didn’t know until last week. I tried to call, but–” You got obliterated and couldn’t answer your phone.

“I get it. Don’t gotta explain.” Sukuna gazed at your stomach a moment longer with droopy, half-lidded eyes before looking up at you as nurses burst into the room. “You’re moving in.”

And for once, you didn’t argue. 

–

“Dude, you guys can't fuck when he's pregnant! You'll crush the baby like a tin can!” 

You snorted and tried to cover your mouth as your tea shot out your nose. You coughed and wheezed, turning away and waving at the brothers in a desperate plea for them to not look and continue their petty argument.

Sukuna, caught between the urge to mock you and kick the shit out of his annoying little fucknut brother, sighed and rubbed his face before handing you his fancy handkerchief he kept tucked in the breast of his jacket for nothing but looks. These days, though, the damn thing had been paying its dues. 

“You think I'm gonna listen to a fuckin’ virgin about this kinda shit?” Sukuna quipped back as he watched you clean up before trying to take a sip of your drink again. 

“Hey, man, I'm just saying. Your dick is like a third leg.” 

You slammed your hand down on the table after spitting a mouthful of tea back into your cup. “Yuuji. Please. Why do you even know that?” 

Yuuji pouted and scooted closer to you under the kotatsu. “Wh--we're brothers! It's not even that weird!” 

“It's weird as shit,” Sukuna offered as he reached out to rub your back. 

“So not weird.” His honeyed eyes locked onto the small affection the older showed you. “Man, so not fair you guys are ganging up on me now that you're, like, a thing,” Yuuji whined and let his arms and chest flop across the table like a petulant child. 

Sukuna smirked. “Jealous?”

You grumbled. “Sukuna. Don't start.”

Yuuji's ears turned bright red. “Jea–what?! No! I like girls like Jennifer Lawrence, not--I don't–”

“N'awe, little pup's tryna cope with losing.” Sukuna grinned wildly when Yuuji's head snapped up, pinning a deadly stare onto the older alpha. “Oh? Finally grow a pair?” 

“Sukuna,” you warned again.

“You better shut it, dude,” Yuuji threatened next, and you knew it was a lost cause; two alpha brothers, both incredibly competitive, both pining for the same omega, spelled disaster. 

Your partner laughed that familiar, ugly laugh–the sort that was too genuine and sounded borderline insane. “Or what? You gonna make me cry–” 

Yuuji launched over the table in an instant, tackling his brother to the ground with a bratty snarl. You watched on, unimpressed, waiting for any signs of their wrestling turning into a serious fight, but it never came. So, you enjoyed it a bit. It wasn't everyday the two idiots played nice. 

You rested your hands on your curved stomach while the two growled and snarled half-heartedly in their dumb attempt to subdue the other. Sukuna could've won in an instant, you both knew that, but he'd let Yuuji think he had a fighting chance for a little bit. It was part of the fun for him, letting his little brother gnaw on him like it'd do anything, letting him try to use his horrible jiu-jitsu skills on his older, bigger brother. It reminded you of–

“Oh,” you peeped when a rowdy kick jostled your hand. It didn't come from the boys, no, it came from the tiny tot inside you. 

The boys froze and stared at you.

“Huh? What's ‘oh'?” Yuuji asked through his panting and straining. Sukuna had him in a headlock, one of his hands giving a brutal noogie to the younger's head. 

“No, just–I think she kicked. Maybe not, I don't–” but your expression brightened with delight when another little throw hit your hand. 

“No shit?” Sukuna grinned, waves of excited alpha scent rolling off of him. He face-shoved Yuuji away before sidling up next to you and pressing his palm against your stomach. You guided his touch to rest over the kicky hotspot, and sure enough–

Thump. Thump.

“Two kicks for your old man, hey?” Sukuna hummed, looking so damn triumphant. 

“Hey, hey, I wanna feel!” Yuuji scrambled over like a nightmare and wiggled up on your other side, pointedly ignoring the snarl Sukuna sent his way. “Come on, it's my niece, chill out.”

Sukuna growled again, but you pulled his hand off to let Yuuji feel the little life making herself known. His eyes, too, lit up when those tiny thwacks battered his palm. 

You looked up at Sukuna dreamily, making the other's ticked expression smooth down into just mildly-annoyed; if your omega wasn't threatened, then he wasn't going to threaten. Sukuna didn't think Yuuji would hurt you, absolutely not, but anyone who came near you, or so much as accidentally bumped into you, pissed Sukuna off, sending his over-protective instincts into overdrive. He always had to rely on you to know when not to react.

“That's so cool!” Yuuji squeaked. “She's seriously in there!” 

“Where the fuck else would she be,” Sukuna grumped.

“Don't ruin his fun, Sukuna.” 

“Yeah, don’t ruin my fun!” 

“Yuuji’s banned from the house.”

“WH–HEY!!”

“Sukuna.”

“Heh.”

“What about gramps, then?” 

Sukuna paused. His heart stopped for a long, long moment. 

“What about him?” He answered, nonchalantly as possible. “Old fuck cut me off years ago.”

“He still cares,” Yuuji offered with a shrug. “And I told him about the pup ‘n everything.”

Sukuna frowned. “Yuuji–”

“You seriously think he doesn't give a shit? Dude, be real, the guy raised us.” 

“That's generous.” 

“Didn't you say you were leaving everything to Yuuji and ‘the old fart’ originally?” You cooed, unhelpful as ever. 

Carmine eyes found yours. “...If he actually wants to meet her–” 

“Awesome, I’ll let him know!” 

“Oi, runt–”

But Yuuji jumped up and pulled his phone out, leaving Sukuna to wonder what he’d just gotten himself into while you laughed at his misery. 

[freedomfireflies]

Outlawed*

Summary: The fifth and final part to Knockout*

The one where Harry just wants to fight, and you just want to love him.

Word Count: 10k (folks...we made it!)

Content Warning: 18+, smut, blood, violence, brief use of a knife, pain kink, size kink

“Cherry?”

Instantly, your head lifts. The familiarly warm nickname sewing up the frayed seams of your heart and sending it into a tizzy.

However, instead of the handsome stranger you’ve come to miss, you find Owen. Eyebrow raised and expression curious.

With a quick clear of your throat, you pull your attention back. “What?”

“Cherry,” he repeats, nodding now toward the pastry in front of you. “Is it cherry tonight?”

You look down as well. “Oh, uh, yeah. Yup.”

“Hm.” His lips press together in thought. “I like the cherry. The way you make it, it’s…it’s sweet. But just a bit sour.”

“Yup...”

“It’s very good.”

“Thanks.”

His hands disappear into his pockets with a short nod of his head. “I know the customers really like it, too. Get comments about it all the time.”

“That’s good.”

“You could probably make it every night. If you wanted.”

“Yeah. Maybe.”

There’s a bit of a tense lull now as you continue rolling the dough, and you notice Owen begin to shift just out of your peripheral. He doesn’t normally hover when you’re working, not unless he’s got something he’d like to talk about, and his lingering glances make your insides begin to itch.

So, you raise a brow, and look over. “Is something…wrong?”

“Hm? Oh, no. No, not at all,” he stammers. “I just…wanted to check in. See how you’re feeling.”

Curious, you straighten up.“Oh…why?”

“Well, I’ve just noticed how quiet you’ve been,” he explains. “And I wanted to make sure you were all right.”

“Uh…yeah. Yeah, I’m okay. Just…trying to get my work done.”

He steps closer. “I noticed your friend hasn’t been coming around as much. The sullen one, with the dark clothes and broody temper?”

And despite everything else, you can’t help but smile at the memories. “Oh, yeah, well…I don’t think he’ll be coming by anymore. Don’t worry.”

“Ah.” A brief pause. “Is it because of Jesse?”

Instantly, you lean back, pulling the rolling pin away from the counter in surprise. “What?”

“Jesse. The other boy who was in here,” he says. “The tall, snobby one in the fancy clothes? Kind of annoying?”

“I…yeah.” Your lashes flutter. “I guess, I mean. They don’t really…get along. But…it’s probably my fault, too.”

He hums to himself almost contemplatively. “You’re not back with him, are you? The Jesse one?”

“Uh…no. Why?”

“I just…I don’t like him,” he sighs, arms crossing over his apron. “I think he’s trouble, and truth be told, you don’t always look that happy when he’s around.”

And you know he’s right, although you are a little surprised that he noticed. “Oh…well, no. No, not at all.”

“Good. Good.” He nods again. “Honestly, you can do a lot better than him, darling. Especially considering everything else he’s involved in.”

Now slightly more startled, your head tilts. “What do you mean?”

“Well…you know,” he begins, moving even closer before lowering his voice. “I don’t want to talk out of turn, and I certainly don’t want to scare you, but…I imagine you already know a little of what he really does, yeah?”

And even though you should know better than to answer, and even though you have Harry’s stern voice ringing in your ear not to trust him…you nod.

“Right, well…I know how much trouble that might put you in,” he continues. “And I know that with the fighting, and the betting, and the outsourcing…I’d hate to see you get dragged down with him—”

“Wait, what? What outsourcing?”

After a quick glance around the rather empty kitchen, Owen sighs, and murmurs, “Look, I don’t know everything, but a few months ago, he approached me with a proposal. He explained about the fights, and about the betting, and said that I’d be making easy money. That it was a guaranteed win because his fighter never lost.”

And suddenly, the image of Harry in that ring – night after night, hit after hit – paints itself across the forefront of your mind. You lose your breath, chest constricting with the thought of all the pain he endures at Jesse’s hand.

“And from what I could tell, he was taking the betting outside of the fights,” he explains. “I don’t know where or to how many other people, but he was pretty confident. And truth be told, I started to wonder if he’d maybe rigged it.”

“Rigged it? How?”

He shrugs. “I’m not really sure. Maybe he was paying the other fighter to lose or maybe he was paying his fighter extra to make sure he always won. Either way, I said no, and he took his business elsewhere. I think he was afraid of getting caught.”

And it makes sense. Every little detail clicking into place as you recall that night at the match. Jesse’s threat and his insistence on Harry’s win. Harry’s refusal not to play his game.

You straighten up. “Right.”

“Look, I just…I don’t want to see you get dragged down with him,” Owen finishes softly. “You’re a good kid, and he’s…you can do better. You can do a lot better than him, and I hope you know that.”

And you do now.

“Thanks,” you murmur before placing the rolling pin down. “I know this is a bit last minute, but is there any way I might be able to leave early today? I think I need to go find him.”

“Yeah. No problem.” He checks his watch. “Joshua’s supposed to be coming in soon. I could have him cover for you if you’d like to leave now.”

“Really? Would that be all right?”

“Sure. The pies probably won’t be as good as when you make ‘em, but…” He throws you a smile and you laugh. “Do what you need to do. And if you need any help, just give me a call, okay, darling?”

Nodding quickly, you wipe your hands down the front of your apron before ripping it off. “Of course. Thank you so much, I really appreciate it.”

“Anytime.”

You’re out the diner door in under two minutes, nearly sprinting to your car as you work out a plan.

You’re almost positive that outside betting goes against the league’s rules (although you wonder if an illegal, underground fighting society even has any rules at all). But especially if it means Jesse ends up making more money on each fight than anyone else actually involved. The fighters included.

And if Jesse truly doesn’t want anyone else to know, you might have just found your loophole. A way to get him out of the picture and still keep Harry safe. 

You aren’t sure where to start. Truth be told, you aren’t sure what you’ll even say. But perhaps you don’t have to say much. Perhaps you only need Jesse to know that you know, and he’ll take care of the rest.

You head for the one place you know he might be. Your heart aches to call Harry, but without an address, a last name, or a phone number, you don’t really have very many options. You can only hope that he’ll find you once this is all over.

When you finally make it into the darker part of town, your pulse begins to pound. Slamming against the sides of your ribcage as you pull up to the familiar building and park. Right beside the only other car in the lot.

It’s not until you step out that you realize who it is.

“Well, well, well,” Jesse calls with a devious smirk, exiting his vehicle as well. “What a surprise, sugarplum. Come to watch tonight’s big fight?”

You take in a brave breath and begin toward him. “No. I’m here to talk to you.”

His brow raises, but he seems relaxed. In fact, far too relaxed for your liking. “I see. And can I assume this has something to do with your little boytoy?”

“Not quite. But it does have to do with you.”

“Ah.” He grins to himself before dramatically gesturing toward the warehouse. “Then, by all means.” 

So, with a shallow exhale, you oblige, trailing after him and toward the front door just as you did the other night. It’s an eerie deja-vu.  

And perhaps you should feel a bit more nervous than you do, but deep down, you know him. You know that he’s lacking any real emotion or regret, and maybe, that might just give you an edge.

After typing in the passcode, he leads you inside. The once glorious space now dark and empty. Sporting nothing but the large boxing ring and the stunning chandelier.

“I’ve gotta be honest, sugarplum, I don’t know what you said to him…but it worked,” he begins as you both walk further into the room. “I’ve never seen him fight like that before.”

You purse your lips together in an effort to resist screaming at him. “Well, that’s what you wanted, right?”

“It is.” He stops near the ring and turns around, leaning on it as he studies you. “And I knew you’d come through.”

“Great. So, you’ll leave him alone now, right?”

“As long as he wins, sure.”

“You mean, as long as he makes you money.”

His arms cross now, and that smug expression makes you want to slug him. “As long as he does what he gets paid to do, then there won’t be a problem.”

“Right. And as long as you can keep outsourcing the bets.”

For the first time, he hesitates, that arrogant grin slipping ever-so-slightly as he raises his chin. “Excuse me?”

“Oh, I’m sorry, did I stutter?” You step closer, and you notice him tense. “The money that you outsource to other bettors. The money that you make – that Harry makes you – on these fights every time he wins.”

His jaw ticks. “You don’t know what you’re talking about—”

“No? You wanna bet on that?”

And you don't think you've ever seen him so livid. Not even on his worst night when you were together, and your insides begin to wrench.

But before he can reply – before he can really do anything – a door opens. Allowing a rather bright stream of light into the warehouse as you and Jesse both reach up to shield your eyes.

And then...you see him.

Harry.

It takes him a moment to understand what he’s really looking at, but you catch the exact second he realizes. The way his face contorts and his fingers curl into his fist.

And you want to explain, want to take back everything you said and tell him the truth, but he’s already speaking up before you can.

“What the fuck is this?” he calls, and it’s so very angry. But he’s not talking to you.

He’s talking to Jesse.

Jesse merely rolls his shoulders back, attempting to settle back into his condescending façade. “Nothing that concerns you.”

“No?” He scoffs. It’s bitter and full of disdain. “Because anything you fucking say to her concerns me.”

Your heart skips.

Jesse, however, merely snorts to himself before glancing at you. “It’s a wonder you manage to get anything done on your own.”

Harry instantly strides closer, and you suddenly feel safer. Relieved to be near him again and desperate to feel him. To wrap yourself in his arms and never let go. To make things right. 

But not once does he look in your direction. Instead keeping his focus on the man near the mat as he approaches. “Don’t fucking speak to her that way,” he nearly growls. “In fact, don’t speak to her at all.”

“Or what, hm?” The haughty cadence is back. “Do you really think you have any power outside of this ring?”

“I think I can knock your fucking teeth down your throat anywhere I goddamn please.”

“How incredibly barbaric.” Jesse’s brow cocks upwards. “Is he like this when he fucks, too?”

This question is directed at you, and no sooner has it left his mouth does Harry suddenly surge forward, grab him by the collar, and slam him back into the ring.

You gasp – or maybe you scream – before Harry removes one hand in order to send it flying straight into Jesse’s nose.

Blood is everywhere. Dripping from Jesse’s mouth, smeared across Harry’s knuckles, splattered along the concrete floor.  

And you want to intervene. Want to do anything that might make you feel a little less useless, but Harry is delivering the second blow before you can decide.

“You fucking—” Punch. “—piece—” Punch. “—of shit.” Each comment is swimming in vile contempt, his expression livid and incensed. 

You’ve never seen him this outraged. Didn’t even know a person could hold this much resentment, but it sends chills down your spine.

“Harry,” you murmur, taking a tentative step closer. “Harry, wait—”

“After everything you’ve fucking taken from me,” he sneers in Jesse’s face, “you wanna take her, too?”

Jesse’s only response is to suck in a large gasp for air that becomes gargled by the blood in his throat, and you feel sick. 

“Harry,” you try again, grasping onto his other arm in an effort to tug him back. “Harry, wait, there’s another way—"

He brushes you off almost too easily. “And now—” Another hit, this time to Jesse’s stomach. “—you think she can save you? You think you can use her to get what you fucking want?”

He sends his busted knuckles straight into Jesse’s teeth, and your insides twist.

“Harry, stop,” you plead, yanking on him a bit harder. “I found another way, okay, please—”

“You fucking think…I’m gonna let you use her?” he seethes before pulling his arm back for the next hit. “You’re out of your goddamn mind—”

Without much thought, you suddenly rush around him, and place your hands on his chest. Wedging yourself between the two just before he can land the next strike to Jesse’s jaw.

It’s stupid and it’s impulsive and it’s rash, but it works. And it’s the only thing that seems to pull him back from that treacherous edge as his eyes find yours and his arm instantly drops. 

It’s the first time he’s looked at you in days, and you want to cry. Because he’s staring at you like he’s never seen you before. Void of any emotion or understanding except for the realization that he doesn’t want to hurt you.

“Harry,” you whisper, and his name cracks from your throat. “Harry, please, I…I found another way. Okay? He…you don’t have to do this—”

“I know. I want to,” he replies, still rather hostile.

“But I don’t want you to,” you argue. “Okay, I think we can get out of this. There’s a way to get him out—”

“I don’t want a way. I want to fucking kill him.”

“Harry, you…” You suck in a quick breath and move closer, nearly gluing yourself to his tense frame. “He’s outsourcing the bets. He’s stealing money from the fights, okay, and we can get him out.”

He looks surprised for all of a minute before the look suddenly vanishes and he attempts to brush you away. “I don’t care. He deserves this.”

“Harry,” you nearly gasp, “if you do this, they’ll kill you. Okay, and I can’t lose you. I won’t lose you—”

His features soften, although he still begins to push past you. “You’ll be all right—”

“Stop, just listen—"

“Cherry,” he warns now, “get out of the way.”

“Harry, please, don’t do this. You can’t do this—"

“I don’t care. Move—”

“Harry—”

“Cherry, move—”

“I love you.”

He stops. Seems to freeze right where he stands, but you barrel on. Clutching onto his dark, familiar hoodie as though trying to grab at his heart.

“I love you,” you repeat in a strained whisper. “I love you, and I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry I lied, I…I thought I was protecting you. I thought I was helping, or…or doing what was best, but it wasn’t – I wasn’t. I wasn’t, and I’m sorry.”

He says nothing. Blinks. Doesn’t move.

“And I love you.” You suck in a shaky breath as the tears fight their way to your waterline. “I love you so much it makes my chest hurt, and I can’t lose you, and…and please. Please don’t do this.”

And you’ve never felt so vulnerable or afraid. And not because of his silence, but because you’ve never loved anybody the way you love him. And you’ll understand if he no longer feels the same or if he’s changed his mind. If he wants to punish you for your lie or for your attempt to say it now.

Instead…he moves to rest his hands over yours. Keeping them over his heart before dipping down…and kissing you.

And it fixes everything. Absolutely everything. Because it’s perfect and familiar and so incredibly Harry.

And you’ve missed him.

You feel an arm slowly snaking around your lower stomach, and you begin to smirk against his lips before you realize who the arm really belongs to.

It yanks you back, ripping you away from the man you love until you’re cemented against Jesse’s chest.

Something cold and sharp is settled against your throat, and you take in a quick gasp for air. 

Harry attempts to remain calm as he’s forced to watch, but you can see the edges of his sanity coming loose. Jaw clenching, teeth gritting, brows furrowing. His shoulders are tense beneath his sweatshirt, his hands are balling into fists, and his head is cocking to the side like he’s debating whether or not to lunge.

Jesse merely laughs in your ear. “This is so fucking pathetic. And so goddamn cliché, sugarplum. Is this really what you want? Him?”

You squirm a bit in his hold, and Harry takes a brave step forward. But almost instantly, the blade of the knife begins to press further into the soft skin of your throat, immediately forcing Harry back with a dark scowl.

“Easy,” Jesse warns as you both go still. “Come on, now, I think you both know better than that.”

“Jess,” you pant, reaching for his wrist. “Jesse, please—”

“It’s so simple,” he continues, ignoring your attempt. “So fucking simple. Just win the match. Win the goddamn match and you get to go home."

“I don’t fucking care. Let her go,” Harry seethes. “This isn’t about her—”

“Except that it is.” Jesse’s smirk widens. “Of course it is. You wanted to leave to protect her, so you will stay to protect her. You made it about her, dear Harold. I’m only following your lead.”

Something shifts now in Harry’s expression, and it nearly ruins you. He looks…lost. So very lost and helpless. Like he’s not sure what he’s supposed to do without you.

Jesse presses his nose to the side of your cheek, and you feel the warm blood smear across your skin. “So, if you wanna take this away from me, then I have no problem returning the favor.”

The knife is pulled taut to the curve of your throat, and you hiss, making Harry’s face pale.

And when his eyes finally flitter to yours, you realize what you have to do.

“Harry,” you whisper, nodding once. Subtle enough to go unnoticed by the man behind you before you smile gently. “It’s okay.”

You’re not sure he truly understands, but you suppose it doesn’t matter. He will soon.

So, you slowly lift your arm until you can bend your elbow, only to send it flying straight back into Jesse’s stomach.

It’s not enough to really harm him. In fact, it’s hardly enough to even surprise him, but it does distract him just enough to loosen his grip on the knife. Giving you the room you need to spin around in his hold and deliver your fist to his face.

The shock of the blow seems to do more than the strike itself. But he goes stumbling back, nevertheless, and the moment his arm has dropped from your waist, Harry steps forward and rips the knife from his hand. 

Once it’s in his possession, he grabs onto your wrist, and wrangles you behind him.

“Don’t ever…” he begins, stepping closer until the tip of the sharp blade can rest just beneath Jesse’s jaw, “…put your fucking hands on her…again.”

Jesse says nothing. He merely stares through his swollen eyelids and bloodstained lashes. 

“You’re no longer Harry’s sponsor,” you add. “And you’re no longer a part of the league. Do whatever you have to do to get out. Or we’ll do it for you.”

Harry smirks, and you don’t think you’ve ever seen him so smug.

When Jesse doesn’t answer, the weapon is nudged further into his bruised skin, forcing him to suck in a sharp breath as he finally grits, “Fine.”

Satisfied with his response, Harry lowers the knife, and steps back just far enough to let Jesse slip by. And the two of you watch as he stumbles toward the door without a single glance before disappearing into the parking lot.

Leaving you both behind.

The moment he’s gone, Harry turns to you, wraps his arms around your waist, and hoists you into the air. Keeping you snug in his embrace while you squeal and fling your arms around his neck for stability.

“Oh, that’s my fucking girl,” he nearly groans, and you laugh. “M’so goddamn proud of you, baby. Never seen something so fucking hot.”

You dip down until you can nuzzle your nose with his. “Well, I learned from the best.”

“Yeah? Good.” His grin nearly splits his face. “Can I please take you home now?”

And you nod so quickly, you’re nearly dizzy.

“Yes, please.”

“Okay, easy. Easy, sweet girl, deep breath. I’ve got you, yeah? Know it hurts, but it’ll be over soon.”

With a sharp exhale, you motion your head up and down, allowing Harry to pull your hand closer in order to continue dabbing the alcohol swab over the torn skin of your knuckles.

His tiny bathroom falls quiet as you sit on the edge of the sink. Him between your legs, attention trained on your bruise. And while the sensation is rather uncomfortable, you don’t think you’ve ever felt so cared for. So…fulfilled and secure.

And you realize, this is how you were always meant to feel. 

With him.

“It’s gonna sting for a bit, but I’m almost done,” he promises, eyes softening when he sees your pained wince. “You’re being so good for me, Cherry, I’m so proud of you.”

You pout and it makes him chuckle. “You made it look so easy.”

“S’cause it wasn’t my first time.” He reaches for the gauze. “And we already know how I feel about pain.”

With a smirk of your own, you jut your chin toward him. “Yeah? And how are you feeling now?”

“Now?” His expression is wicked as he now leans just close enough to ghost his lips over yours. “Now…I feel fucking insatiable.”

You waste no time kissing him. In succumbing to his games and his endless teasing. You kiss him, and you don’t care if that means he wins, because you’ve never needed anyone or anything more.

And he’s so entertained by your desperation. His own bandaged hand finding your cheek as you sigh against his tongue and settle into this moment of adoration. 

When he pulls back, you’re winded.

He goes back to work dressing your knuckles, wrapping the white gauze around and around until your torn skin is thoroughly protected.

And you watch him as he does this. As he sweeps his thumb gently along the ridges of your hand before bringing it to his mouth in order to leave yet another kiss.

“There,” he murmurs, trailing his lips across the fibers. “All better.”

It’s the most beautiful and romantic thing you think anyone has ever done for you, and your heart lodges in your throat. “Harry?”

“Hm?”

“…do you hate me?”

Surprised, he instantly straightens up and leans back. “What?”

“Do you…do you hate me? Because of what I did? What I said?” You attempt to ward off the influx of impending tears, but you can already feel the first one slipping free. “Do you think I’m a horrible person?”

His expression immediately drops as he reaches up to grasp onto your face once more. Thumbs brushing quickly along your warm skin as you sniffle. “Cherry…I could never hate you. Ever.”

“But maybe you should,” you whisper. “I hurt you, and I lied to you, and…and I don’t deserve you—”

“Baby,” he breathes, surging forward to press his forehead to yours in an effort to silence you. “Don’t ever fucking say that again, do you hear me? I know exactly why you did it, and I could never be mad at you for that. I was only hurt because I didn’t want to lose you. But you were only trying to protect me. I know that.”

“I said I didn’t love you,” you nearly croak. “I said I loved him. After everything you’ve done for me—”

“You had to,” he interrupts, and his understanding only hurts more. “Cherry, you had to. It was the only way, and I know that. I knew it then, too. You’ve only ever tried to protect me, and I wasn’t letting you.”

You grab onto his wrists and vow to never let go.

“And it’s not fair that you were put in that position,” he continues. “It’s not fair that you were forced to make that call, and it’s not fair that I dragged you into this. You were expected to choose between somebody you’ve known your entire life and somebody you just met. That’s not fair, and I never should have made you—”

“It wasn’t a choice,” you hiccup. “It was never a choice. It was always you.”

Those pretty pink lips pull back into the softest grin you’ve ever seen. “You were trying to save me, sweet girl. I know that, and I will never, ever hate you. I love you.”

I love you. The three best words you could ever hear, and your first sob wracks from your chest as you fling your arms around his neck to kiss him.

He kisses you back, but it’s soft. And sweet. And meant to convey exactly how he truly feels. 

And it works because this is all you’ve ever wanted. Just him, and this moment, and those three words.

“Easy,” he warns through a strained breath. “Baby, careful—”

“Please,” is all you pant. “Harry, please, I can’t…I can’t wait any longer, please.”

And he nearly coos with amusement as he nuzzles his nose under your jaw in order to paint more kisses along your throat. “Can’t wait, hm? But what if I want to make this special?”

“It is. Is special—”

“Cherry,” he chuckles, “it’s all right. M’not going anywhere. We don’t have to rush, all right? S’been a long day and I don’t expect anything—”

“But I do,” you huff. “I’m ready, I want to. You’ve made me wait long enough.”

He laughs a little louder now, leaning back in order to see you. “I’m just trying to take care of you, sweet girl. We didn’t wait this long to throw it away because of him. I want this to be good for you. I want you to be sure that this is really what you want.”

And you appreciate the sentiment more than you’ll ever be able to explain. But right now, there is only one true way you want to spend the rest of this horrid day.

So, you lift your leg and hook it around his hip, pulling him back between your thighs with a pleading look.

In turn, he smirks, fingers returning to your chin with a playful squeeze. “Thought I was the insatiable one.”

“We’ll take turns,” you exhale before surging forward to kiss him again. Capturing his lips between your own and savoring the feeling you never thought you’d feel again.

And you can see his resolve crumble. Can see the way his eyes fall shut, the way his chest rises and falls beneath his dark shirt, the way his hands grasp onto your waist to keep you close.

He’s hungry. Ravenous. Losing the fight before it even begins, but he doesn’t seem to mind. Because now – now – he can have you. He can give you exactly what you want, can be exactly who he wants to be for you.

“Where do you wanna be, baby?” he asks through teasing nips to your neck. “The bed? The couch? D’you wanna go back to your apartment? Might feel more comfortable for you—”

“No, I don’t care,” you interrupt anxiously. “I don’t care, I just want you.”

He grins against your throat. “My greedy girl,” he murmurs, and your stomach flips. “Let’s go to the bed, yeah? Wanna lay you out and see you.”

And you want nothing more than to let him.

Regretfully, he pulls his lips from your skin and steps away, and you feel like you might die without him. But he’s quick to remedy this by taking your hand in order to help you hop down from the sink. Leading you out of the bathroom and through his apartment toward the bedroom.

His apartment isn’t what you expected. Although, truth be told, you didn’t know what to expect. It’s a bit bigger than yours, but there’s something…empty about it. Hollow, almost. The furniture is scarce, the colors and décor are few and far between. It doesn’t even look like anybody lives here, something he pointed out the moment you entered.

“Hardly spend any time here,” he’d said as you glanced around. “S’just a place to sleep, really. It’s never really felt like a home…until you walked through the door.”

And it was wildly cheesy, and perhaps a bit lame, but it was everything. 

His bedroom doesn’t seem to be any different as he leads you inside. The walls are a dark grey, and his bedding is a similarly dark shade. He’s got one chair and one dresser. It’s quite clean, all things considered. No clothes lying on the floor or towels slung over the closet door. 

It’s so very…Harry.

“Sorry,” he mumbles as your eyes flicker about the room. “Know it’s not very romantic.”

But you merely grin as you shake your head and grasp onto his hand. “Are you kidding? It’s perfect.”

His brow cocks up. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” You drag him toward the mattress before plopping down rather contently. “It’s so you. And I love that.”

And he only smiles before chasing after you and wrangling you into his arms.

It’s a faster dance from there. His hands and lips are everywhere they can reach. Slipping up the backs of your legs, ghosting over the curve of your hips, pulling at the zipper on your dress.

You merely settle in his embrace and allow him to take whatever he’d like. To touch and kiss each lingering thought away until all you know is him.

He’s careful but practiced. Treating you with the same adoration and gentle precision as he always has. And you’re so very thankful to feel so safe in his arms. A kind of security you weren’t sure you’d ever find in a partner the way you have him.

With anyone else you’ve ever been with, sex has always been transactional. A means to an end. This thing that you do to get off and nothing more. And despite your submissive preferences, there have been times when you truly felt powerless to your partner. Simply…there. Until they decided they no longer needed you.

But Harry…

He looks at you like your body is sacred. Like he’s undeserving of being so close to you. Of getting to touch you, hold you, feel you. Completely in-tune to every noise you make and every flutter of your lashes. Constantly on guard for your enjoyment and consent so he never goes any further than you want him to.

But you know, undoubtedly, that no matter how far he goes…it’ll never be enough.

You want his everything. His all. Anything he’s willing to offer, and you imagine you feel about as grateful as he looks to be here with him like this. To witness this kind of tender reverence.

He settles onto his back and pulls you on top. Placing you in a straddle over his waist until he can gaze up at you. “You okay, Cherry?”

You nod quickly – breathlessly – before resting your hands on his chest to brace yourself. “Just excited.”

His smile is boyish and charming, showcasing that familiar dimple that makes your cheeks warm. “Good. Want you to be.” He rubs soft circles into your hip before his brows furrow. “Y’know what I just realized?”

“Hm?”

“I still don’t know your name.”

And despite it all…you laugh. “I’ll tell you on one condition.”

“Yeah? And what’s that?”

You smirk. “I still want to be your Cherry.”

He chuckles as he squeezes your sides and drags you closer. “Oh, baby,” he murmurs as you dip down to kiss him. “Always.”

With a soft smile, you trail your lips from his cheek to his ear, whispering the forbidden name almost timidly.

And to your surprise, he only grins wider. “That’s beautiful, sweet girl. S’perfect, too. Pretty name for a pretty girl.”

You feel the blood rush to your face as you bury your lips against his throat and gently tug at his skin. “Okay, all right.”

“I mean it,” he insists, palm slipping around the back of your neck to tug you back out. “Cherry, you’re beautiful. I don’t say it to say it. I look at you…and I feel like I can’t breathe.”

And maybe they are just words. Maybe they’re meant to make your insides twist and make your heart swoon. To be romantic and suave.

But you believe him. Because you can see in his eye just how much he means it. Can feel it in your stomach that he’s never been as honest as he is right now.

Further proving that everything in your life…has led you to him. Every decision, every regret, every mistake. It brought you right here, to this moment, in his arms. 

You don’t waste any time on replies or longing looks. You kiss him, and you resume this frantic dance, and you beg him to make things better. To ease this ache in your stomach as well as your heart.

So, he does.

Nimble fingers pull at the zipper along your side, loosening your uniform until he can guide it up and over your head. Only stopping once to whisper, “S’this okay, baby? Can I see you?”

You nod almost impatiently. “Yes, yeah. Whatever you want, promise.”

“Hm. Careful what you wish for, sweet girl,” he hums warningly. “Or I might just take you up on that.”

The moment your frame is revealed to him, he nearly groans. Allowing his hands to smooth up and down your shivering silhouette as you anxiously wait for more.

However, instead of allowing him the time to indulge in your body, you begin to tug at his sweatshirt. Silently requesting he reveal himself to you, too.

He smirks. “All right, hold on.”

He barely has a chance to sit up before you’re reaching for his hem in a desperate attempt to remove it. Making him chuckle as he grabs onto his collar before swiftly pulling it over his head. 

And you nearly sigh. Because he’s so ethereal to look at. Every ridge, and tattoo, and scar. The way he breathes, the way he flexes. You can’t help but reach for him, skimming your fingers down the dips and curves of his toned chest and stomach almost reverently as a breath catches in your throat.

And he lets you. Studying you closely while you study your hand. A moment of silence passing before he mumbles, “Baby?”

“Hm?”

He reaches up to tuck a bit of hair behind your ear. “M’gonna have to stretch you a bit before we start, okay? Don’t want to hurt you.”

“Okay,” you answer almost too quickly. “That’s fine. I’m not worried.”

He seems amused. “I know you’re not, but I am. You know I’d never want to hurt you. And I just want to make sure we go at a pace you’re comfortable with.”

There’s an odd sort of fluttering in your chest as you scoot closer and slip your fingers into the curls on his neck. Stroking his roots in an attempt to soothe him. “I’m okay with any pace as long as it’s you.”

“Promise?”

You nudge your nose against his. “Promise.”

Finally, he seems satisfied. “Okay, sweet girl. Then can you lay down for me?”

You’re on your back before he can even finish the question, attempting to intertwine your fingers with his and drag him along with you.

“Cherry,” he laughs again, and the sound is like music. An orchestra of joy and infatuation that you can feel all the way down in your toes. “Can’t be that greedy, can you?”

“I can,” you pant, hips bucking up as he reaches for the silk around your waist. “Just please…”

“Please,” he repeats thoughtfully, pulling his focus to the material he’s slipping down your legs. “You really are my sweet girl, hm?”

Another nod. “Mhm.”

“Guess I have made you wait, yeah?” He discards of the delicate panties before smoothing his palm up the inside of your thigh. “Made you sit and be good?”

“Harry…”

“And you have been,” he muses, ignoring your mewling. “Been so good for me. Think I need to show you how proud I am. And apologize for being so mean to you. For making you go so long without.”

He moves to settle between your parted legs, one hand beside your head to brace himself while the other travels down the expanse of your stomach. Calming the trembling skin and leaving goosebumps behind until he reaches what he’s looking for.

He looks at your face first. Examines your expression and the flutter of your lashes. Stilling just long enough to listen to you breathe. “It’s okay, Cher. I’ve got you.”

You run your fingers through his hair and smile. “I know.”

His thumb is the first thing that finds you. Ghosting gently over your clit and down in order to prepare you. Ease you into the sensation.

You take in a satisfied inhale that melts into a whimper and he grins.

Pushing through your folds, he slows when he finds your arousal. Glancing down to see it for himself. “So warm, baby. Missed this.”

“Missed you,” you nearly whine, and he seems pleased.

The tip of his digit pushes in just far enough to tease you but not enough to satiate you. Leaving a rather hollow feeling in your stomach the moment he pulls back out.

You just about slump into the mattress. “Harry…”

“M’just trying to be gentle,” he says. “And I wanna take my time. Wanna really feel you. Remember this moment.”

Your heart swells. “How oddly sentimental of you.”

He shrugs before pushing the finger back inside. “Maybe you just bring it out of me.”

Your back instantly arches from the bed when he reaches his knuckle. And the gratified look he wears seems to worsen this untamable ache.

“There you go,” he coos. “See? One’s not so bad.”

His pace is slow to begin. Torturous in a sense, but he knows that. He wants to work you up, make you squirm. Have your pleas falling from your tongue like water from the sky.

And of course it works, it always does. You weren’t sure what else you expected, but as he continues this steady rhythm, you feel your sanity slowly begin to come undone until you only have one choice.

“Harry…Harry, please, can’t…can’t—”

“What, sweet girl? Need more?”

Your head quickly motions up and down. “Please…”

“All right.” He pulls back before going again, this time with a stretch a bit more prominent. “Know you can handle two, yeah?”

And he’s right, you can, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t nearly ruin you to do so. Because while two is decidedly much better than one, it’s still not nearly enough. And more importantly, it’s not the one thing you really need.

You pull harder on his hair while you writhe beneath him. Eyelids growing heavy as the sound of his fingers driving into your pussy grows louder. “Harry, please—”

“Shh.” He dips down and trails his lips along your cheek. “Gotta let me do this, baby. Just a bit longer, yeah?”

“Can’t…can’t wait—”

“Yes, you can.” His tone is firm but kind. Encouraging. “Know you can. Let me make you feel good.”

He begins to go faster. Thrusting into your cunt until your pulse is racing at about the same speed. 

And he’s beautiful. He’s so goddamn beautiful, it makes you dizzy. Hovered over you on the bed, muscles flexing with each roll of his arm. There’s a soft glow behind his head from the light of his window, illuminating his curls like a halo.

It’s rather fitting, you realize. After all, he is your guardian angel.

“Breathe,” he instructs, kissing down the curve of your throat before finding your chest. “Almost done, yeah? Doing so good for me, look so pretty taking my fingers. Know you’re gonna be so beautiful taking my cock, hm?”

Again, he dangles the image right in front of you, only to take it away before it can fully render. “Har—”

“Shh,” he says again, mouthing at the swell of your breast that’s being pushed up out of your bra. “Gonna give you another. Want you to be still for me, okay?”

With a rather disappointed huff, you oblige, watching as he scoots back just far enough to get a better visual.

Three fingers brings you to the gates of heaven. As does that look in his eye when he sees the way your pussy stretches around the larger digits. 

You can quite literally see the groan leave his body as he stares at you, lips parting in mesmerized bliss.

“You okay?” he manages to ask through a strained exhale.

“Yes,” you pant. “Can take more, I promise.”

“More, hm?”

“Yes…yes, please…”

He only hums.

Seconds go by before you’re gasping for air. Nails scraping down his scalp in desperation as he works you open. He’s incredibly focused, proud of the work he’s doing, and of the way your body bends to his will.

“There we go,” he praises softly. “Just like that. So fucking wet, sweet girl. Know it must ache.”

“It does…it does, Harry, please—”

“Got an itch you can’t scratch, yeah? Need me to reach it for you. Need me to fix it.”

“Please…”

“Almost, baby, almost.” 

You feel the fourth begin to push in and you suck in a sharp breath.

He stops. “It’s okay,” he murmurs soothingly. “Gonna take me like a good girl. Already doing so good, just a little more. Relax for me.”

You do your best to obey, allowing your limbs to fall limp beside you, despite the tightening of the coil in your stomach.

Even still, it works just enough to allow him more room. Slipping in the added digit until you see stars.

The pumping is loud and driven. Truly an exercise in restraint – for both of you – as the pace begins to quicken and the noises begin to increase.

Then, he brings his other hand into play, and brushes his thumb over your clit.

And you don’t mean to – you didn’t even realize you were so close – but you cum suddenly and with a rather lewd moan that makes his eyelids flutter.

“There,” he whispers, as though entranced. “There we go, good fucking girl.”

You can’t seem to get enough air in your lungs as you come down. And Harry chooses not to help as he finally removes both hands…and begins to pull you apart.

He exposes your clit to the colder air in order to dip down and ghost his mouth across the top. Releasing a warmer breath that sends chills straight down to your toes, making you squirm rather violently.

“Har…Har—” you gasp, fisting the blanket below. “Please, can’t…can’t—”

“Just wanna look at it,” he says simply. “S’so pretty—”

“Harry,” you whimper, writhing beneath his hold. “Harry, this is mean.”

“Mean, hm?” He smirks now and you want to die. “Well, I don’t wanna be mean, baby. Wanna be good for you, just like you are for me.”

You choose to take this as a sign to continue, sitting up just enough to reach for his belt and begin to tug it undone.

He laughs now, glancing down at your frantic fumbling with a knowing grin. “Cherry—”

“No,” you huff. “No, it’s my turn.”

To your surprise, he only hums. “Go ahead, then.”

You do, yanking the belt through each loop before tossing it aside and moving for his zipper. You don’t imagine you’ve ever worked so fast or so hard for something (specifically a cock) in your life.

The moment he’s able to wrangle his dark jeans down his legs, you’re dragging him back down. Ignoring his protests and his reminder that he still has one article of clothing left.

Instead, you work on ridding yourself of your own, unhooking your bra and tossing it into the same pile as his boxers.

And now, as you both settle into your nakedness together, every imperfection on display, you realize you’ve never been more content. Because baring your heart to him was far more vulnerable than baring your skin.

And because this is where you were always meant to be.

“Okay, baby, m’gonna start slow,” he repeats yet again, and you nod. “Just tell me if you want me to stop or slow down, yeah?”

“Yeah,” you nearly whine. “I will, I swear.”

“Good. And…shit, a condom, do you…do you have a preference—”

“Pill,” you pant. “I’m on the pill, just go.”

“Are you su—”

“Yes, please. I need to feel you, Harry, please…please.”

“Okay, all right.” He takes hold of your hips and positions you where he wants you before settling between your thighs. “Deep breath, okay? Just keep your eyes on me, I’ve got you.”

Another nod – quicker, more frenzied.

He takes hold of his cock and your eyes nearly roll back. It looks so beautiful in his hand. Just as stunning as you remember, and even though you never imagined you’d find one so appealing, your mouth seems to water.

Your leg hooks around his hip, subtly urging him closer, and he obliges. Giving himself a tug or two before gently trailing the tip down your aching cunt.

He moves up and down to collect a bit of your arousal before he finds your hole and slowly begins to push inside. Sinking in about half an inch before checking with you.

You nearly scream. “It’s okay. It’s okay, keep going.”

“Are you su—”

“Yes.”

His mouth curls up into a knowing grin as he continues. Allowing his cock to slip even further into your waiting pussy while your walls slowly stretch open to accommodate him.

And you’re hardly afforded the chance to enjoy this newer sensation before he suddenly dips down to kiss you. Perhaps an attempt at distraction, although it’s hardly needed. Because now you aren’t sure what to focus on, what feeling to indulge in. From his lips, to his cock, to the way your stomach nearly caves in on itself. 

“Fucking shit, baby,” he groans against your tongue. “Shit, you’re so tight…feels so good—”

“I know,” you agree. “God, please don’t stop—”

“No. Never.” He sinks in a bit further and you dig your teeth into his bottom lip. “M’almost there, you still all right?”

“Yes…yeah, I’m perfect. Perfect, promise—”

“That’s my girl,” he nearly seethes before he suddenly drives forward, sheathing himself all the way.

You both still the moment he’s fully inside, his face now disappearing into your shoulder as though to brace himself.

And you wrap your arms around his shoulders in a desperate attempt not to let go. Allowing your body the time it needs to understand this new intrusion and find pleasure with it.

When it finally happens, the stars align.

“Okay,” you pant, gently scratching at his back to garner his attention. “Okay, go.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm. Need more, Har, please.”

He pulls his hips back and the whimper you release is almost feral. But it seems to do wonders for him, because his expression twists into something desperate, and you feel your chest implode.

He settles into a soft, slow pace. In and out, in and out, in synchronicity with your eager pants for more.

And there’s too much happening all at once. Too much to watch, too much to take pleasure in. 

The curls that drip down his forehead, the way his body looks as it connects with yours, the feel of his mouth going down your chest.

He’s everywhere all at once and somehow, it’s still not enough.

“Taste so fucking good,” he mumbles, seemingly to himself. “Could taste you forever.”

He takes your tit into his mouth, tongue flicking at the pebbled skin before nipping at it gently.

You keen, arching from the bed until you nearly knock into him. “Har—”

He hums around your nipple, and you almost cry with frustration and pleasure.

Everything feels slow. Almost too slow but there’s something tender there. He’s not trying to fuck you, he’s trying to feel you. To mold your body to his and it’s rather effective. Because the way you crave him feels like heaven and hell all in the same second. 

“Harry,” you whisper, practically deranged as you drag your hands down his chest. Nails tracing patterns down the tattoos across his abdomen. “Please…”

The noise he makes in response to your scratching is almost animalistic in nature, and you nearly flinch as you quickly lower your arms. Upset to have caused him any pain.

“No,” he groans, lifting up to nudge his nose under your jaw. “No, don’t stop. Keep going.”

“What?”

“Keep…shit—” His rhythm falters and you can almost feel the way his dick seems to twitch. “Keep going, s’okay. Want you to scratch me. Want you to hurt me, baby.”

And somehow, this reminder of his pain kink feels almost like a blessing. “Yeah?”

He nods faintly before attempting to resume his pace, and you happily take the lead.

Your fingers hesitantly return to his broad torso. Delicately tracing the muscles as they roll beneath your touch until you gingerly begin to press in. The sharp edge of your nails dancing across the expanse of his already torn skin.

In turn, he releases a strained noise that becomes lost beneath the grateful kisses to your collarbone. And you realize how much he truly enjoys it.

He gives you complete control of his body, of his pleasure. Because the harder you scratch at his scars, the more urgent his thrusts become. Until the sounds echoing around the room begin to echo between your ears. And the slapping of his hips into yours is inescapable.

“Feels so good, Har,” you nearly cry, lifting up just enough to kiss him quickly. “You’re so good to me. Always.”

“Shit.” His eyes about roll back before there’s a sharp snap of his cock into your eager cunt. “Always gonna take care of you. Promise—”

“I know,” you sigh. “I know, I love you.”

You say it now, and suddenly, everything changes.

It doesn’t matter if he’s heard you say it before or if he already knows because the look in his eye nearly guts you. 

He’s so…happy. So incredibly happy and endlessly enchanted that he begins to grin. “You love me,” he repeats. Not a question.

You smile as well, and the sentiment seems to explode out of you. “I love you.”

And it’s perfect, this moment. This connection of two bodies and two souls into one. The way you stumbled through the dark until you found each other, and it makes sense. Everything makes sense now with him. Clarity in the truest form.

“I love you,” he echoes, and he means it. You can feel it in every thrust, every syllable, every brush of his lips against yours. “I fucking love you, Cherry—”

“Please,” you gasp, leg dropping to the bed while your arms follow suit. “Har, please—”

“Gonna cum for me again?” He begins to go faster, chasing after your orgasm. “Let me feel you around my cock, sweet girl, come on. Already feel so good—”

“Can’t…can’t—”

“Can’t what, hm? Can’t hold it?” It’s almost sadistic the way he speaks, but you know he’s merely enamored. “I know. I know, it’s okay. You can cum for me, don’t have to wait. Promise I won’t be mad.”

You aren’t sure what you’re about to do, all you know is that you never want this feeling to end. This moment, this security. You just want to touch him, and look at him, and taste him for the rest of your life. 

He interrupts your silence as a request for something more, and he offers it in the form of his dominance.

He takes hold of your wrist and hoists it above your head, pinning it to the mattress before settling his weight atop your chest. Trapping you beneath him until you have no other choice but to indulge in everything he has to give.

And you do.

“Sweet little cunt is all mine, isn’t it?” he purrs, teeth nipping below your ear as his fingers intertwine with yours. Holding your hand as he keeps it caged to the bed. “Spent all this time just waiting for me, didn’t you?”

“Yes…yes, fuck, Harry—”

“You were so patient. So good.” He’s growing more determined – sloppy – and your head begins to spin. “God, but you just needed me, yeah? Needed me to make it better—”

“Better,” you repeat almost mindlessly.

“Needed me to erase him—”

“Please—”

“Leave my mark. My fucking mark—”

“Harry—”

“You were never his,” he grits, and you aren’t sure who he’s really trying to convince. “You were never fucking his, you were always mine. And he knew it—”

“Shit, I can’t…can’t—"

His other thumb moves for your clit and you feel tears fill your eyes. “Yes, you can. Know you can, baby, and you will. Always do so good for me, gonna take my cum, aren’t you—”

There’s a strain on your muscles from the way they’re being stretched above your head, but you realize there’s something satisfying about the subtle pull. And when it’s coupled with a firm pinch of the sensitive nerves between the rough pads of his fingers, you start to lose it.

“There – shit – there you go,” he inhales, glancing over your face before watching the way his cock slips in and out of your pussy. Dripping in your arousal and smearing across your thighs. “Take me, just like that. Feels so fucking good, sweet girl, keep going…keep—”

You cry out and writhe helplessly beneath him. Pulling your arms from out of his hold in order to sling them around his neck and cement yourself to his chest.

And you have no choice but to succumb to the pleasure before you feel him follow.

“Fuck—” He surges forward, burying himself in you completely, moans melting into your feverish skin as you cling to each other. “Shit…I love you. I really fucking love you, Cherry.”

You smile lazily before bringing his mouth to yours. “I love you, too.”

He kisses you. All through the moment and then some. Until the sun has disappeared and the moon has been hung between the stars.

And you know that you have never been happier than you are in this moment, right now.

Just you, and him, and a pussy full of cum.

“Darling, we've got some at table six, could you go check on ‘em?”

With a quick nod of your head, you readjust your apron, and grab the notepad Owen is sliding toward you before slipping from the kitchen. 

You find the eager customers waiting just beside the counter and take their order with a charming grin and a promise to slip them some leftover pie.

The diner isn’t too busy tonight, and you’re grateful. Now that you’re on dessert duty, you spend a majority of your shifts working on new recipes and finalizing the specials for the coming week.

Truth be told, you rather enjoy this new task. It keeps your mind occupied and your thoughts from drifting.

And baking is your happy place. Your sense of calm amidst a sea of uncertainty, almost rivaling your own true source of serenity.

Harry.

Once you’ve returned to the kitchen, you sneak a glance at the clock. 12:06 A.M. He should be here soon. Probably tired. Perhaps a bit stressed. Hopefully no worse for wear than usual.

Fight nights always tend to leave you on edge. You know he’s more than capable of taking care of himself, but you can’t help but worry. It’s what you do best.

Still, you’re happy for him. Because while pies are your happy place, the boxing ring is his. He’s only ever wanted to fight – to make money, channel his anger into something good. And perhaps it’s not a sustainable lifestyle, but for right now, it’s what he wants to do.

And you respect his choice. You’ll respect any choice he makes, as long as he’s the one making it. Instead of it being made for him.

Besides, without Jesse there, you find that Harry tends to have a lot more fun. He leaves the fights with a busted lip but a bright smile, and it makes your heart swell until it feels as though there’s no more room in your chest.

Last you heard, Jesse left town. Harry refused to tell you what really went down at the club once the other members found out, but you decided that was probably for the best. No matter what fond memories you still have of your childhood friend, he’s not who he used to be. And you won’t ever be able to change that.

But for the first time in a long time…you’re okay with that.

The clock continues to tick the seconds away, and with each passing one, you grow a tad more anxious. Your guardian angel is late. At least by a few minutes, and you scurry about the diner as your thoughts race about a mile a moment.

And then, just as you’re readjusting the cake stands and tidying up the dessert display, you see it.

Your not-so-strange stranger is here.

He’s sitting in his favorite booth, fifth one down from the first row, directly next to the window.

He’s got his usual hoodie pulled over his head, obscuring any view of his face. His clothes are dark and seem to cover nearly every inch of his skin. His knuckles are wrapped in that familiar, white gauze, and are stained with streaks of red.

But he’s looking down. Staring at the menu on the table as though he doesn’t order the exact same thing every time.

And you grin wider than you have all day.

“Hi, Cherry,” he calls the moment his head lifts, allowing you a better look at his stunningly damaged face as you scurry closer. “Missed you.”

“I missed you, too,” you nearly giggle, slipping off your apron before sliding into the seat across from him. “How was it?”

“Easy,” he snorts, but there’s a sparkle in his eye. “And I have good news.”

“Oh?”

“M’off for the next few days. Thought you could come over…and not leave.”

You laugh as you reach across the table to take his hand in yours. “I like the sound of that.”

“Yeah? Good.” He glances down at your interlocked fingers almost fondly. “Hey, you know what I just realized?”

“What?”

Now, a mischievous expression begins to form. “I never introduced myself.”

And for some reason…you can’t help but laugh.

“So,” he begins, rather charmingly as he raises your hand in order to shake it formally, “hi.”

And you really fucking love him.

“I’m Harry Styles.”

I CAN'T BELIEVE WE'RE AT THE END!! This has been such a fun story, and SUCH a wild ride that I feel very lucky to have gotten to take with so many incredibly wonderful people!!

Thank you so much to everyone who's followed along and left the nicest comments or notes!! I cannot tell you what it means to me!!

Harry and Cherry will def be back for extras soon, but until then...I love you 🥹♥️ Thank you, thank you, thank you!

Previous Part:

~ Uppercut*

~ Full Knockout Masterlist

~ Main Masterlist

Amazing divider by @firefly-graphics! 💞

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[wh0reforcoriolanussnow]

The Fight || Billy The Kid x reader

Summary: Billy involves himself in a physical fight over you.

Warnings: violence, swearing, blood

Wc: 1,347

A/n: uh- this is my very first time writing a Billy fic so pls bear w me (especially w how they talk and stuff) bc in the the series I don’t really find Billy talking like how ppl write abt him (absolutely not hate whatsoever to those who do, I absolutely love ur fics find you all so talented 😭) so I’ll try my best to be as accurate as I can. Do let me know if I make a mistake so I can improve :)

Divider by @pommecita

"I'd fuck her any day if she wasn't whoring herself for him," Ollinger slurs, throwing his head back to let the contents of the bottle run down his throat as the men around him laugh. Billy's head pikes up at the sound. Typical Ollinger, talking about some woman as if she was an object.

Billy watches from the other side of the room as he continues to talk to them, his voice becoming louder by the second. "hot for a fucking gringo, and that's saying something," He shakes his head his eyes half close by how wasted he was.

"Wonder how Billy would feel if I had her, don't think he's too keen on sharin?" He nudges the guy beside him before bursting out laughing. Hearing this, he realises that Ollinger was talking about you. Calling you a whore.

He slammed the bottle in his hand down on the table making a loud noise. Pat Garrett and Jessie slightly flinch before they look up at Billy who was already standing, fuming.

"What's goin' on?" Pat asks, his eyes trying to follow Billy's line of gaze. Billy doesn't answer, instead, he storms over to where Bob Ollinger was and his friends. They were all laughing until one of the guys ushered everyone and tapped Ollinger to face Billy.

He slowly turned around, seemingly not bothered by Billy's presence or the fact that he towered over him. "Have something to say 'bout my girl Ollinger? Hm?" He stands his ground, taking another swig of his alcohol as he maintains eye contact with Billy. Everyone in the room had quietened down, eyes trained on the two who never got along.

"Maybe. Wanna hear what I gotta say Billy?" He smirks as Pat Garret and Jessie had already stood up from where they were. Billy narrows his eyes at the man. "I think she's a pretty little gringa you got there, but she needs a real man, not some kid like you-" "You're fucking pathetic, y'know that?" Billy spat, venom laced in his words.

Ollinger seemed to have sobered up when he said that. He looked at Billy with pure rage. "What’d you call me, boy." His blood was boiling at this point. "I said." Billy steps closer, "You're fucking pathetic." He threw a punch at his jaw as Ollinger falls back from the impact and his lack of balance.

At this point the room was cheering the two on as they throw punches at each other. Ollinger swings at Billy but misses, he was glad he wasn't drinking as much that night. He then lunges and aims towards Billy's stomach, knocking him onto the table as all its contents fell on the floor. "C'mon Billy get up!" Garrett pushes him back up.

Billy had a busted lip and a cut on his eyebrow as a trail of blood fell down the side of his face. However, it was nothing compared to the damage he did on Ollinger. "Call a whore one more time, I dare you," Billy yelled, throwing punch after punch as he was on top of him. "Billy! Billy stop!" Billy heard your familiar voice but didn't stop. All he could see was red.

From the moment you stepped foot out of your carriage that dropped you off in front of the pub, you knew a brawl of some sort was going on inside by the way you could hear cheers and the noise of furniture being knocked over.

You hurriedly walk in. You couldn't see what was going on over the tall people who stood in front of you. Weaving your way through the crowd to try and see what the commotion was about, you bumped into Jessie. "Woah there-" "Jessie, what's going on? Where's Billy?" You quickly ask him before your eyes fall onto him.

He was on top of Ollinger, throwing punch after punch. Your eyes widen in horror as you try to go to him but was held back by Jessie who had an arm around your shoulder. "Let me go! I need to stop him Jessie!" You struggle against his iron like grip. "Can't have you get involved in fight, sweetheart. Can’t let you goin' home with a scratch on your pretty face now can I?"

He says against the side of your face as you squirm, helplessly watching the fight. There was blood everywhere and you feared that Billy had killed Ollinger. "Jessie!" You thrash in his grip before he gives Garrett a look who nods and quickly breaks up the fight.

"That's enough, Billy. You got what you wanted," Pat and few other guys pulled Billy back who was breathing heavily, blood covered his shirt and hands. Billy spits on the ground. "All right, show's over!" Jessie yells as people start leaving. Ollinger gets pulled up by a few others as he's dragged away, his body limp.

"Don't you fucking go near her! You hear me Ollinger?" Billy yells before he spits more blood out. "Enough, Billy!" You exasperated, kneeling beside him to take his face in your hands, inspecting it.

Thank god there wasn’t much damage, only a busted lip and a cut on his eyebrow. “For god’s sake Billy! What happened now?” You search his eyes as he stares back at you, blankly. You catch Pat and Jessie looking at you before their eyes find the floor rather interesting. You stand up, dress already spotted in crimson as you brush the loose strands of your hair behind your ears, “What happened here?”

~

You made a beeline to your bathroom. Billy closed the door behind him and sat on the edge of her bed, he let out a groan before falling back onto the soft mattress. He starts to sit up when he hears you walk back in, a first aid kit in your hands.

You hadn't spoken a word to him since the two of you left the pub and came back to your house. You were grateful that your parents were away for the week, they would have thrown a fit if they saw you covered in blood and Billy batted up.

Moving to stand in between his legs, Billy lifts his hands up to rest on your hips but you slap his hands away. "Darlin'-" "I don't want to hear it Billy," You say, annoyance dripping from you voice as he hisses at the contact of disinfectant on his cut.

Billy lets out a sigh, his eyes trained on your angel like face as you attend to his face. "I'm sorry, I really am-" "Five times. Five times you've gotten into a fight because of me." You scoff, tilting his head firmly as you go over his eyebrow.

"You told me you would stop Billy. I can't keep playing nurse with you because you can't bite your tongue," You make eye contact with him. "You expect me to just sit around and do nothing when some guy is calling you my whore?" Billy's voice gets louder as he furrows his eyebrows at you.

You gulp, eyes looking everywhere but him. "Look at me!" He grips your chin with his thumb and index finger, "You've known me long enough to know I ain't that type of guy," He spoke, his eyes darkening.

"And you've known me long enough to know that I can handle whatever they call me. I don't need you getting into a fight every time someone foul mouths me," Your eyes begin to water. You hated seeing Billy like this. You hated how most of his fights revolved around the topic of you.

"They're all worth it, doll. You're worth it." Billy wipes away the singular tear that managed to escape. You sniffle lightly before he pulls you onto his lap, your arms securing themselves around his neck as he strokes your hair.

"Try not to get into another fight because of me," You mutter, your fingers drawing random shapes on his back as you hear him chuckle, "Can't keep any promises, darlin'" He kisses your hair as the two of you hold each other.

[milla-frenchy]

Imagine Tommy pussing you off so go find Joel, Joel fucks you, you call Tommy and put it on voicemail so he can here you screaming Joel’s name

Does Joel put on a show? Does Tommy jerk off ti the sound? Does Joel get mad at you for getting him involved in this and and and and-

Mood board @aurorawritestoescape 😍🤌 (pic for mood only)

0k7 | Joel Miller x fem reader | ao3 | Masterlist Warnings: 18+ mdni. Infidelity, masturbation (m), degradation, piv, creampie. No age specified

a/n: @romanarose I changed a little part of your ask, hope you’ll like what I imagined 🙏 @aurorawritestoescape thank you for beta-ing 💕😘

***********

Joel was not particularly a good man. His sense of morality was questionable. It always had been, and that would probably never change. So when you knocked on his door to complain about Tommy after he ended up at Travis County for what seemed like the 100th time, Joel didn't think it could be a bad idea to let you in.

When you sat on the couch and told him that Tommy had hit on a waitress in a bar, and that her boyfriend had beaten him up before the two of them were taken away by the cops, he didn't even hide his smile. His brother had always been a loser, and that wasn't going to change any time soon.

“I’m so tired of his shit, Joel. How many times have I got him out of prison? And he was flirting with another girl. Again. I wonder if he fucked that one, too.”

And that’s how you ended up in Joel’s bed, legs spread, his cock pounding your cunt hard and fast, eyes fixed on your dripping hole, that was covering him in white.

When you got a call later that evening, your head was buried in a pillow and Joel was gripping your hips. You didn't even check who was calling you.

When your phone rang again the next day, Joel’s cock was buried balls deep in your core. And when he saw his brother's name on your phone, he told you to pick up. You were still pissed off and didn’t hesitate, putting the call on speaker just as Joel started fucking you again. Your moans were the only sounds that came out of your mouth.

“Uh, babe? What the hell is going on?”

“You broke your toy, little bro. Now I’m fixin’ it… oh fuck, that pussy’s so fuckin’ tight...”

“The fuck? Joel?! Babe, is that a fuckin’ joke?”

Joel was fucking you so good, spreading your walls around his cock and perfectly hitting your g spot, that you didn’t even bother to answer Tommy.  Besides, Joel was dealing with him perfectly.

“You didn't tell me she was so good at takin’ a cock. Suckin’ it too. Blew my load down her throat this morning. Been fuckin’ her all night, shit…”

“Fuck, baby? Why are you doin’ this to me?”

“Well, I think it has something to do with the other women you’re banging, jackass...” 

“Oh fuck, baby, come on… You know I love you, right?”

“Oh, shit. She’s suckin’ me in, Tommy. She’s squeezing my fuckin’ cock so tight…”

Joel knelt between your thighs, one hand gripping your waist, fucking you as if you were a rag doll. Rubbing your clit with his thumb, spitting on it for Tommy to hear. His brother was no longer talking, and you only heard his breathing. More and more unsteady.

Joel sneered and said “Jesus Christ, Tommy, you’re jerking off, hearing me fuck your girlfriend?”

You let out a moan that wasn't just from Joel's cock and finger.

“Gonna fill her up soon. Hope she’s on the pill or something, or we’ll have some weird family lunch, lil’ bro...”

You heard Tommy grunt, and the fist clenched on his cock sped up his movement. You could hear the fap fap fap as clearly as if he had been in the same room as you. Watching Joel railing you.

“Shit Tommy, you’re such a loser. Ya gonna fuck her through my cum tonight, uh? She’s so full of me, man…”

“Fuck, fuck, ‘m gonna come…”

“Yeah? Ya want your toy back after I fixed it?”

“Yeah, yeah. Baby, wanna fuck you… want you to be full of me too. Please? Please, baby. Lemme fuck you tonight.”

“Tommy…oh, fuck, Joel is fucking me so good… I’m gonna come on your brother’s cock… again.”

“Fuck, fuck. Yeah, keep talkin’ to me like that.”

“He made me cum so many times since yesterday, you know… Oh, god… His cock is so thick, baby…”

“Shit, oh….oh fuck I’m gonna…ah fuuuuuuuck.”

Tommy shot his load onto your bed and on his fist, and you came hearing his moans, clenching on Joel’s cock. He told you “what a good girl you were, taking his big cock so good” until he filled your cunt already full of his spend. You heard Tommy panting over the phone. “Get your ass over here and fuck her in my bed. And when you’ll stick your dick in her cunt, your cock will be soaked in my cum.And I bet you’ll cum in 5 seconds, little bro. Like a damn loser.”

***************

Thank you for reading 🙏

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@pascalsanctuary @littlemisspascal @survivingandenduring

[luveline]

HI MLLLL! I absolutely loved your fainting fic with James! Can you write like a part a part 2 or like a follow up where reader starts realizing that James isn’t as bad as she thought and she falls for him as he takes care of her bc he’s really worried? I love them sm 🥹

James takes care of you when you faint

James is acting weirder than usual… sort of… nice? fem, 1.2k

The days after you faint are just as hot, but you come into work. You can’t afford to miss it, and it’s not as though you’ll make the same mistake twice. 

The memory of what happened is hazy at the start. James had just opened the window, the breeze that filtered in cooling your hot skin. You’d felt sick, you’d tried to stand, and your head had gone blank. 

You woke with your face in James’ hand. You can remember it if you think about it enough, his head tilted down toward you, the sunshine on his skin, his soft smile. He’d felt like a different person. 

You’d felt different. 

“Can you send me that information from the lab, please?” 

You glance away from your computer, eyes tired. “Sorry?” 

“For the, uh, Mr. Nguyen?” James asks. “You didn’t send them to me. I can’t do them if you don’t send them.” 

“Right.” You blink away the phantom of his hand on your cheek. “Okay.” 

“Are you feeling alright?” 

That’s all he asks. Every day since you passed out, at various times and in various ways. Are you okay? Are you alright? Is it too hot in here? Do you want to swap desks with me? That last one had been a little patronising. You’d told him to leave you alone. Your desk is right next to the radiator in winter, it’s prime real estate, and you’re not giving it up just because you got a bit hot. 

“I’m fine,” you murmur, turning back to your computer to open outlook. “Just thinking.” 

“About what?” 

“About you not talking to me.” 

“Funny.” 

You drag and drop the paperwork for the tests he’d wanted. It’s easy to render an invoice but you hate doing it because it involves a lot of talking back and forth with clients. James, on the other hand, loves to talk. 

“There, sent it,” you say.

“Thank you.” 

Awkward. You pretend to be busier than you are for a few minutes, stealing company time without remorse. James types up an email beside you, the click of his keys quick and loud in your ears. 

Remus pops a pen lid across the way, scribbling onto a post it note that he sticks on his monitor. You know what time it is from the sounds alone. A half a minute later, Sirius slinks up from the front of the office to wrap his arm around Remus’ shoulders, sing-songing, “You’re coming with me, handsome.” 

“Are you coming?” Remus asks James. 

There’s a lapse of quiet. You stare at your computer, aware of a silent conversation, but not privy to its content. “I think I’ll stay,” James says eventually. 

“Okie dokie. Y/N, do you want to come, lovely?” Remus asks. “It’s not too hot.” 

“I’m fine,” you say, “thanks. Thank you.” 

You don’t feel like yourself since you fainted. You’d hoped it would go away once you had a better night’s sleep, flooded your system with cold water and good food, but you can’t kick it. You have no energy, no want to do more than turn up for work and go home again, and you know what it is that’s making you feel this way, but you can’t admit it to yourself. It crops up in your mind unbidden and you push it back down. 

“Sirius never used to act like that.” 

“What?” 

“Sirius. He was never like that when we were growing up. Love makes him pathetic.” 

Love is a tender touch. Sirius had laid his arm over Remus’ shoulder without any hug or kiss, but it was as loving as either. To touch someone like they need a kind hand. 

Like James had held your face. His arm behind your back as he led you to the break room. 

“Do you wanna come with me?” James asks. 

You hold in a second confused, What? He’s standing now, you hadn’t noticed him moving, his water bottle in hand as he pushes his chair back under the desk. 

“Don’t wanna leave you here and have you smash your head in when there’s no one around. Imagine the clean up.” 

You get up on impulse. You grab your drink, and the back of your chair, and you stand there wondering if you’re about to be dizzy again. Your chest feels tight, but that weight of unconsciousness doesn’t come. 

“Hey,” James says. “Seriously, are you okay? You’re not like you today.” 

There’s a softness in his voice you can’t believe. “Can I eat lunch with you?” 

You wish that you said it to avoid the question. James wrinkles his nose, your heart drops into the pit of your stomach, but then he says, “I just invited you first.” 

“I… have to get my stuff from the fridge.”

“Me too.”

You walk slowly, worried it’s a joke, another stupid joke, but James comes up behind you and his hand graces your shoulder with the barest pressure. You can smell something sweet and warm on him, like jojoba oil. Maybe argan. “Sure you’re okay? You look peaky. Is it the heat?” he murmurs.

“It’s supposed to rain tonight.” 

“You can’t answer anything, can you?” James laughs with a vocal fry that goes straight to your chest. “I could ask you how many fingers you’d have and you’d tell me you have two hands.” 

James walks with you to the kitchen, where you gather your food and warm it in the microwave. He leads you to the break room, and makes sure to choose a table with enough space for you, even while people he’s friendly with beckon him forward. They look at you with unashamed curiosity, but James pretends not to notice so you do too. 

You’re expecting a joke. Aw, look, we’re finally on a date. Or Wow, you know how to use a spoon, I had no idea you were so dexterous. 

“Did you see they’re making a new movie about those aliens? The ones who can hear you everywhere you go?” 

You squeeze your spoon. “Uh, no, I didn’t see it.” 

“It looks awesome. I’ll show you the trailer on my computer after lunch, it looks just as good as the first two. That actress, the one with the really nice eyes is in it.” 

You have no idea who he means. James talks to you like a friend. He offers you some of his papris and he passes you a napkin from his pocket when you get food on your hands. James Potter might actually be a really nice guy. All it took was for you to garner his pity for him to show it. How pathetic you must seem to need it. 

“How do you feel now?” he asks as you clip the lid back onto your Tupperware. “You look better. Do you feel better?” 

“I’m fine, James.” 

“You frown so much I can’t tell.” He butts his knee against yours. “Alright, batten the hatches, I’m gonna carry you back to your desk.” 

“Why?” you ask in a rush. 

“Can’t fall if you don’t walk.” 

“James, don’t try it. I’m serious.” 

“You don’t sound serious. You sound like you want me to carry you.” 

“I’ll report you to Human Resources.” 

“For what? Being helpful?” 

“Harassment.” 

“Fine, but I’m not gonna catch you this time.” 

[coldfanbou]

I'm a...

Here we are with the Viviz fic. We have a threesome with something special involved for Eunha.

Eunha X Mreader X SinB X Umji

Length 2.5K

Previous part

Wondering why Eunha had let you have sex with SinB and practically threw you at Umji, you needed to talk to her. You woke up on Saturday thinking about that, and as you looked to the other side of the bed, Eunha was gone. The sizzling sounds from the kitchen told you where she was. You got out of bed, put on your slippers, and headed toward the kitchen. You spotted her moving back and forth from the fridge to the stove, occasionally flicking through the cookbook on her tablet. “We need to talk Eunha.” The small woman spins on her heel, her apron swinging along with her.

“What do you need?” She says, leaning forward and sticking her tongue out. “Don’t tell me you want to do something before breakfast.”

“Why did you have me have sex with SinB and Umji?” You say bluntly. 

“Well, SinB wanted to thank you, and Umji was our tiebreaker.” She replies blankly.

“Okay, I get that, but why did you let them?” You ask, reiterating your question.

Eunha’s face turns bright red, and her hands rush to her cheeks as she turns around. “I don’t want to say it’s embarrassing,” she says.

“What can be so embarrassing about it?”

“Well…” Eunha began as she spun a tale that explained why she let SinB and Umji have sex with you. “A while ago, I was coming home late from work, right? When I got to our bedroom, I saw you watching one of our old videos.” The video Eunha was referencing was one of your sex tapes. “I was watching you…uh, jerk off to the video.” She said shyly. Eunha fiddled with the stove, turning the heat off as she tried to think about how to continue. “I liked watching you and got turned on…I fingered myself. I thought about what it might be like to watch you fuck someone, and it made me horny.” Eunha says, looking at the ground with her fingers pressing against each other as embarrassment fills her body. Her eyes shoot up toward you as she realizes what she’s said, “But I didn’t want you to have sex with any stranger, so I asked SinB and Umji to do it!” Eunha blurts out. “I thought it was hot,” Eunha follows in a whisper. “I, uh, guess you could say I’m a cuckquean,” She says with a shy smile. “And I may have pushed SinB to have sex with you.

You sigh and rub your forehead, “And why didn’t you tell me?” 

“I thought that you would say no.”

“So you forced them on me?”

“Yes,” Eunha says sheepishly. 

You take a deep breath and pat Eunha’s head. “Listen, I have a lot of questions, but next time you have some fantasy like this, just tell me.” You raise your hand off Eunha’s head, turning it into a fist before softly smacking her head. “You’re so dumb sometimes, Eunha.” 

“Does this mean you’ll fuck them again?”

“You were too quick to ask that question. Let’s have breakfast,” you say, wanting to move past the conversation. From the corner of your eye, you spot Eunha pouting. We’ll finish this talk after.” Your breakfast goes by fast, with Eunha giving you puppy eyes the entire time. 

Once you’re done, she opens her mouth, ready to bring the subject back up. “I know it’s weird, but I like to watch.”

“So does this mean I’ll never get to touch you again?”

“What if I let myself be free use for you? Would you fuck SinB and Umji again?” 

“That’s not an answer to my question, Eunha.” 

She pouts again, her cheeks filling with air. It made her cute, but you couldn’t let that distract you. “I still want to have sex with you. It feels like I’m in trouble.”

“I just want to clear things up.” 

After a lengthy discussion about limits and boundaries, Eunha stuck out her hand. “Let’s shake on it.” She said with the biggest grin on her face. You shake your head and smile. Eunha’s silliness has always been charming to you. You shake her hand and watch Eunha do a little dance out of sheer excitement. “I have the best thing planned for you. I have to make a few calls.”

She runs off to your bedroom, throwing her apron on the floor as she shuts the door. You let out a deep breath and drop the dishes in the sink, washing them as a way to relax. The day goes by calmly, with both of you relaxing at home.

A knock on the door interrupts a movie you’re watching with Eunha; as you head to answer it, Eunha grows a sly smile. At the door were Umji and SinB. You look back to Eunha, who plays dumb and looks at the ceiling. “Alright, come on in,” you say before making your way to the couch. “Eunha, what did you do?”

“I did nothing wrong.” Eunha stoutly replies

“You called them to have sex, didn’t you?”

“Yes,” Eunha says, meekly accepting your way out for her. She grabs your arm, pulling on it to get you to stand up. “I want to watch! Come on, let's get to the bedroom.” You go along with it for her sake. Stripping off your clothing, you toss yourself onto the bed. Umji and SinB seemed shocked at your willingness and look at each other. Eunha walks into the room, pulling a chair along with her and placing it in the corner. As she pulls down her shorts, she looks at her friends. “What are you two waiting for? I want the show to start.” Eunha sits in her chair, her hand diving into her folds as she waits. 

Umji is the first to make a move. She grabs the hem of her shirt, lifting it up and over her head. Her lack of bra was apparent as her modest tits bounced freely. She crawled onto the bed slowly, leaving her skirt on. She placed her head on your thigh, warm body rubbing against your leg as she reached up and wrapped her delicate hand around your shaft. It glided up and down the length of your soft cock. Umji met your eyes once before focusing on the appendage before her. She positioned herself over it, spitting on the head and using her hand to cover your cock in her saliva. You groan weakly as your cock grows hard in her hands. Her hand moves quickly across your slick cock, and Umji’s grip gets a little tighter. 

SinB watches Umji take control of the situation and turns her head to see Eunha absolutely entranced by the sight, her friend's fingers moving in small circles around her clit as she pulls on one of her nipples. Looking back at you and Umji, SinB pulls her sweater over her head, drops it to the floor, and follows that with her shirt and pants. After stripping off her underwear, SinB climbs on the bed, glancing at Eunha over her shoulder before getting right next to you. Gently placing her hand on your cheek, SinB turns your head toward her, “I’m only doing this for Eunha,” She whispers to you. It seemed like she wasn’t being completely honest, but that would be the subject of another time. SinB presses her lips against yours and lets go of your cheek. She moves the arm under her and places your hand on her ass. You squeeze the soft piece of flesh, making SinB moan into the kiss. Your squeeze becomes rougher as you feel a pair of lips on your cock. 

Umji had gotten hungry stroking your cock. She kissed the tip and slowly spread her lips, allowing you inside the warm and wet cavern that was her mouth. Her tongue swirled slowly around the tip, and Umji audibly moaned as she savored the taste of your cock. She bobbed her head slowly, dragging her plump lips along your shaft as she stuffed herself. Eunha watched, her fingers moving quickly as she saw Umji and SinB submit to you. Eunha’s light moans momentarily attract the attention of the three of you. Her thighs glisten from her nectar as she rubs them together. As you focus on each other again, you slap SinB’s ass, making her break the kiss with a yelp. “Help Umji out,” You command. SinB nods and moves down to your cock where Umji backs off, letting the other woman share in the delight. Their lips meet with your cock sitting in the middle. The sensation sends shivers down your spine as you feel their lips move around your cock. You place your hands on their heads, guiding them along your shaft. 

You began to want more; you pulled their hair, moving the women away from your cock. You tear Umji’s skirt off her before placing SinB on top; both women face Eunha. Eunha pressed her thighs together as she met their eyes but continued to finger herself, her face flush. You got behind the pair of women, aligning your cock with Umji’s cunt first. You grabbed her hips and pulled her onto your cock without warning. You both filled the room with a great moan. Umji’s walls wrap tightly around you, practically pulling you deeper into the young woman. Umji’s feels your hard cock kiss the tip of her womb, and her arms give out, sending her face into the bed. She arches her back and pushes her ass into your pelvis. “Fuck me. Fuck my pussy,” She moaned. You begin thrusting into the small woman’s tight cunt, listening to her moan your name. 

You move your attention onto SinB, noticing her wet thighs. You move your fingers along her slit. She shivers and looks over her shoulder; as you meet your eyes, you push your fingers inside her cunt. You press against her walls, rubbing them as you move in and out. SinB whines, the pleasure hitting her hard. The two women’s moan mix as Eunha watches you fuck the two of them. 

Eunha was nearing her climax; her fingers pistoned in and out of her. She sat back roughly, squeezing her tits, her head rolling back as she moaned. SinB and Umji were turned on watching Eunha. You could feel their walls tighten around you whenever they looked at your girlfriend. 

Approaching your first orgasm, you pulled your fingers out of SinB. You held onto Umji’s waist, her soft flesh moving between your fingers as you squeezed it. You sped up your thrusts, slamming your cock into Umji’s cunt without care. The young woman’s moans became ragged, “Oh god, fuck me!” Umji looked up, meeting Eunha’s eyes. “Thank you, Eunha!” Umji cried out as she came. Her walls squeezed your cock tightly as she backed her ass into you. Burying your cock in Umji, you paint her womb white, flooding it with your cum. Umji shuts her eyes and lays her head on the bed. “I’m so warm,” She mumbles. You feel her walls gripping you tightly, fighting you as you pull out. Cum drips from Umji’s cunt onto the bed below. She collapses onto the bed after. 

Rolling Umji out from under SinB to give you more space, you lay SinB on her back. You come face to face with her, with Eunha watching on. As you glance at your girlfriend, you see her breathing heavily, her hands coated in nectar. You kiss SinB’s chest, planting more of them as you move from breast to breast and then up her neck. “Just fuck me already,” She whines. You align yourself with her cunt, prodding SinB’s entrance. “Don’t make me beg. Not in front of her.” You plant your lips on SinB’s as you drive your cock into her pussy. You break the kiss as her moan comes in and let Eunha listen to her long-time friend’s cries of pleasure. You feel SinB’s legs wrap around your waist. You grab her hands, holding them by her head as you begin thrusting. You kiss her neck, listening to SinB moan your name as you drive her crazy. “Why are you so big?” She mutters.

“Why don’t you thank Eunha?” You groan, “She knows you like it.”

“Shut-ahh,” SinB’s words are cut short as you deliver a powerful thrust, forcing her body to take every inch. You lean down, taking one of her nipples into your mouth and gently biting it. SinB’s gasp turns into a moan as you pull back on it. You continue your thrusts, watching as SinB gets closer to her climax. 

“Where are you going to want it?” You moan into her ear. Only moans come from her mouth.

You repeat the question, this time earning yourself an answer. “Inside, do it inside.” She said. SinB almost sounded like she was begging for it. You continue to thrust, feeling your orgasm coming. With each thrust, you could feel Sinb’s walls rubbing your cock, covering it in her nectar. 

“I’m cumming,” You groan as you bury yourself inside SinB. She feels your warm cum pour into her. Her walls clamp down on your cock, milking you for more cum. You fill SinB’s cunt before pulling out, leaving her like Umji, tired and full of cum. You sit back at the head of the bed and beckon Eunha. Eunha stands from her seat, her lower half drenched in her nectar. Crawling past her friends, Eunha stares into your eyes. 

She comes to a stop at your cock, pressing her lips against the cum covered tip and swallowing your cock as she makes her way to the base. Eunha’s tongue slowly swirls around your cock, cleaning it. Eunha drags her tongue along the underside of your cock as she pulls away. “I can taste SinB and Umji on your cock,” She says before kissing the tip. “My turn now.”

Eunha straddles you, aligning her slit with your cock and lowering herself onto you. The familiar sensation feels nice. Eunha’s pussy holds you snuggly as she takes inch after inch. “I hope you know I’m sensitive. I’m not going to last long.”

“So am I. Watching you fuck them was so exciting. Thanks, Honey.” Eunha gives you a soft kiss as she begins to ride you. She softly bounces on your cock, taking every inch with ease but refusing to let a single one go. You hold her close, enjoying the feeling of your cock rubbing against her walls. You give one of her tits a squeeze, feeling the soft flesh jiggle as she bounces on your cock. You focus on each other, giving each other soft kisses as you enjoy each other's bodies. You can feel a tightness in your core as you near your third climax. Eunha pushes you onto your back, giving herself more space to work with. Each bounce from Eunha feels heavenly as her pussy swallows the entirety of your cock each time. You hold her waist, guiding her slightly. “Honey, I want you to cum inside me. Cum in pussy.” 

“I’m going to cum.” You groan. Eunha’s walls tighten around you, sending you over the edge and forcing you to cum. Feeling your semen shoot into her, Eunha drops her weight on your cock, impaling herself on you and letting your cum fill her. 

Eunha rests her head on your chest as your bodies begin to relax. “Can we do this again?”

“Not for a while.”

“That’s fine. As long as we do it again in the future.”

[scribblesofagoonerr]

— I'm never babysittin' again!

Thanks to the anon who requested this one, I've been working on this since I got in and fun fact, I've had no sleep whatsoever, so definitely gonna regret that at work later...

Anyways, I am working through other requests and stuff. If anyone has anymore, let me know. Always willing to write stuff within reason.

Also, massive thanks to @alotofpockets who helped me come up with some of the idea's to add in.

pairings: kim little x reader, leah williamson x reader, arsenal wfc x reader

summary: readers' a menance on the trip to melbourne along with her partner in crime, kyra, and poor kimmy's almost having a nervous breakdown over it, so she has to call in reinforcements back home in london.

"I'm bored," You let out an exagerated sigh and kicked your legs back and forth as you had been forced to sit on one of the seats in the secluded lounge area as you had to wait for your flight to board.

You were partaking in a friendly game in Melbourne with the rest of your Arsenal team mates against an A-League team, you had been so excited about this ever since you found out that you'd made the squad.

"How much longer?" You can't help but be bored, being forced to sit in an airport certainly wasn't your idea of fun, neither was being stuck under the watchful eye of your Captain either.

You swear that the club, and Leah in particular, had planned this on purpose.

It's like they knew already, somehow.

You wouldn't call yourself a troublemaker, persay, buts' what fun is life without causing a little mischeif, sometimes?

Apparently, the rest of the older girls' didn't have the same thoughts about it.

At least you had Kyra on your side to involve her in the chaos, the girl was a bit older than you but she was your partner in crime, you two always fun causing mischief together.

"It won't be too much longer, Y/N. Just be patient," Kim, your captain and unoffical babysitter for the trip, tries to reassure you, but never the less, you just feel further restless.

In your defence, you can't help the boundless energy you have inside of you, its' like your body feels like lightening bolts are itching to strike and you just want to be up and racing about.

The confides of the hard plastic seat make it difficult to do that though.

"But I'm bored, Kim," You repeat in a whiny tone of voice, throwing your head back in frustration. "Nobodys' letting me have fun around here!"

"There's a difference between fun and trouble kid," Steph, another one of your team mates, chimes in, amused by your antics.

"It won't be too much longer now, Y/N. I'm sure you can wait just that little bit longer," Kim states, although her patience is wearing thin.

It hadn't even been 24 hours yet, and the Scottish women was already on the brink of a nervous breakdown.

"Are you excited to be going to Melbourne, kid?" Steph wonders, trying to keep your mind occupied for the time being, already being able to see how fidgty you have become, "It's a cool place, you're gonna love it!" She adds.

"Uh huh. I'm excited-- Oh wait, I still need sweets for the light!" You suddenly realise, attempting to make a break for it when you can.

Kim shakes her head in disagreement, "Its' too late now, Y/N. We're going to boarding the flight soon," She interjects, trying to reign you in.

"Yeah, and you definitely don't need anymore sugar because you're already hyper enogugh," Steph adds in, which you respond to her with a pout.

"Aw, man. Leah would let me if she was here," You try and protest, however, your words are very much incorrect and of course the rest of the girls aren't stupid enough to believe that either.

You know that Leah, if she was here, would most definitely not allow you to have sugar at all.

In fact, she'd purposely try and make ham sandwiches in an attempt to steer you from even going in the direction of the shop.

"No she wouldn't," Katie, one of the older girls on the team comments as she passes by.

"Yeah, we all know what you're like without sugar. You don't need any of it,Titch," Caitlin, one of the Aussie girls on your team, adds in.

You huff in further protest, your bordem is slowly persisting and it feels like you've been waiting for the flight to board for ages.

Desperately trying to find something to occupy your time, your eyes gaze upon the several dogs' lined up near the barriers to get through security.

"Bingo," You think to yourself as your eyes' light up in delight, wasting no time to jump up from your seat and dart in the direction of the dogs.

All you want to do is pet them. They look adorable in your opinion.

Before anyone could even stop you, you'd already successfully made it halfway across the terminal in the direction, however, the annoucement of the flight to boarding to Melbourne had gotten Kims' attention now.

"Right, our flights been called. See Y/N? I told you it wouldn't be that long," Kim spoke aloud, not realising that you'd somehow managed to wander off in the time that she'd turned round to speak to Steph, "Where's Y/N gone?!" She questions, her eyes widen in panic when she doesn't see you in her eyesight.

"Look's like she went to pet the dogs," Kyra snickers, amused with your antics, and although she should try and stop you, she wanted to see how far you would succeed with your little adventure.

"She wants to make friends with them," Teyah joins in, just as amused as she watches the scene unfold.

"And neither of you tried to stop her? You know what she's like!" Kim shakes her head in disbelief and her eyes' almost buldge out of her sockets when she spots you nearing the dogs, "Oh, God-- Y/F/N!"

"You might wanna grab her before she gets' her arm ripped off, Kim," Katie jokes, watching in amusement.

"Unbelieveable," Kim mutters to herself as she races' quicker than ever in the direction of you.

Unfortunately before you'd made it nearer to the dogs, you feel a firm grip on your upper bicep that's starting to tug you back forcefully.

You spin round and are met with your Captains' stern face, "Kim!" You whine in protest while trying to wriggle free from her grasp.

"What an earth are you doing, Y/N? You can't pet the dogs!" Kim scolds you, remaining to still have your hand on you tightly to not allow you to run off again. "Come on, we need to board the flight," She adds, sternly.

"But the dogs though. They're adorable!" You pout in further protest, not happy about being pulled away before you even had chance to pet them.

"Mhm, as adorable as they look, they're patrol dogs and they have a job to do here," Kim remarks sarcastically, dragging you back in the direction of your team mates so you can board the flight.

"Maybe you need to invest in a leash for her," Alessia, another one of your team mates pipes in as she watches you be reluctantly dragged back to the group of girls while Kims' already rubbing her temples in dispare ahead of the flight before its' even taken off.

"Pst, Kyra," You nudge the older girl not so gently to wake her up, having been bored on the flight while the rest of the girls seem to be asleep or doing their own thing, "Wanna play a prank on some of the others?" You question, mischeviously.

So far the flight to Melbourne hadn't been that adventurous, somehow through luck though you managed to be able to sit next to your partner in crime.

It was great for you, however, not so much for Kim, whos' been frazzled and trying to keep things under control the whole time on the flight.

"Absolutely," Kyra grins in respose as theres' a matching mischevious twinkle in her eye, "What'd you have in mind?" She wonders, curiously.

You grin and proceed to pull out a whoopee cushion from your carry-on, "Well, we could start with this?" You suggest in a quiet whisper, to not get the attention of Kim, whos' got her head buried in a book at the moment.

"Genius!" Kyra's eyes light up in glee, "Whos' our first target?" She questions.

"Caitlins' dozzing off," You gesture in the direction where Caitlins' half in and out of sleep.

You and Kyra both share a look before the older girl sneaks over to Caitlin and slips the whoopie cushion underneath the older Australians' seat.

"Show time," You smirk as you wait for her to sit on it.

Caitlin wakes up startled when it suddenly goes off and she looks around confused, "What the--?"

The pair of you can't help but giggle uncontrollably.

"Y/N, Kyra," Kim catches onto your troublemaker ways and narrows her eyebrow, "Behave!"

"What? We didn't do anything!" You feign your innocence, holding your hands up in protest.

"Let's move on to Steph," Kyra encourages you to continue with your pranks.

"Yeah, good shout," You nod in agreement and find the packet of gummy worms in your bag, you could easily eat them but pranking the Aussie women was more worth it. "Lets' put these in her bag. She'll totally freak out!" You add in.

Kyra eagerly accepts the packet of sweets and sneaks over to Stephs' seat, cautiosly depositing the gummy worms in her open backpack, "Done. Now we just need to wait for her to go in there--"

"Ah! What the hell?" If Stephs' facial expression is anything to go by then you guess Stephs' found them already, "Y/N! Kyra!"

"It weren't us," Kyra plays it off and shrugs her shoulders.

"Yeah, you have no proof," You give the girl a smug grin.

The older Australian women shakes her head in annoyance, "Pests. You're both a pair of pests, honestly," She mutters aloud.

"You two are something else," Katie overhears the commotion and shakes her head.

"Dare I ask what you pair did now?" Alessia questions, joining in as she overhears the noise from her fellow team mate.

"I don't know what you're talkin' about, we're just havin' a bit of fun," You still continue to act innocent, although you personally don't understand what the fuss is about when you're contained in a metal box with no escape.

You need to entertain yourself, somehow.

Pranking your team mates is the perfect opportunity.

"Hey, Alessia! Do you like spiders?" Kyra smirk mischeviously, already ahead of the plans for another prank at the expense of the older blonde girl, who you both know has a bad fear for them.

"No, not really-- Ah!" Alessia shrieks loudly when you toss a fake spider in her direction, doing no more than jumping up onto her seat before she realises a fake plastic one and is now glaring at you, "Y/N! Kyra!" She yells, annoyed with you both.

"That's enough!" Kim shoots up from her seat, giving you both a pointed look. "Both of you, sit down and behave!" She bellows.

"Yes, ma'am," You pretend to be serious and move back to your seat.

Kyra gives your Captain a mock salute and continues to follow suit, "Aye aye, Captain!" She jokes with her.

"I don't want to hear anything more from the pair of you for the rest of this flight," Kim warns you both before she returns to reading her book.

"Pst, Y/N," It's Kyra's turn to nudge you know with a knowing look on her face, "We should try and see if we can balance peanuts on Frida's head while she's asleep," she suggests the idea to you.

Never being the one to turn down a challenge, you smirk and nod your head in agreement, "You're on. That'll be easy!" You insist.

With the task in hand, you both lean across your seats' and carefully begin to place peanuts on Frida's head, one by one.

"Wow. I didn't think this would actually work," You whisper in amazement and try to stifle your giggling, however, thats' not going to plan when Frida wakes up and the peanuts' fly everywhere.

"What..." Frida looks completely baffled, while you and Kyra still continue to hold back your laughter even more.

You can't hold it in much longer before you end up bursting out in laughter, "That... That was great!" You state in amusement.

"Y/F/N! Kyra! I swear, if you don't behave then I'll have the captain come talk to you!" Kim chides, feeling like she's ready to blow with the mishchief that you pair have caused. "I mean it when I say no more trouble from either of you for the rest of this entire flight, understood?"

You still can't help but laugh out loud at the misfortune of Frida wearing half a bag of peanuts on her head, "Someons' salty. Get it, cos' they were salted peanuts!" You crack up into more laughter.

"I mean it, Y/N. I will get the captain, or when we get to Melbourne, I'll have no problem in telling Leah all the antics you got up to," Kim threatens you and your face pales immediately.

Sure, the captain of the plane might be terrifying, but your blonde vice-captain was someone you definitely did not want to be in hot water with.

Unforuntately, you seemed to find yourself on the end of stern lecture with her one too many times.

"Okay, okay. I'll stop, I'll behave-- Don't phone her!" Your quick to plead with your Captain, really not wanting her to make that call.

Kyra nods but she keeps her fingers crossed behind her back, "Yeah, we'll be good," She states.

"I'll believe it when I see it," Steph mutters, shaking her head.

Caitlin nods in agreement with the older Aussie girl, "Them pair are magnets for trouble," She remarks.

It wasn't long before you had arrived in Melbourne, when your flair for trouble is encouraged once again by Kyra and the pair of you can't resist goofing off inside the gym.

"Kimmy!" You all but plow yourself on the older women, whos' peacefully minding her own business on one of the massage tables until you came at her like a full whirlwind.

Somehow, Kyra decides to get the idea to improvise giving your Captain chest compressions or something along the lines of what it looks like.

Also, trying to encourage you to hang of the pull up bar with the overshadowing of a bet on the tables.

You have always loved to bet on things. Your not turning down this opportunity.

"Kimmy! Kyra' reckons I can't hang off the pull up bar. Watch this!" You tattle, before you make your way over to the bar.

"Y/N, no. You'll hurt yourself!" Kim's quick to bolt up from the table to stop you from attempting to break your leg with your attempt to hang upside down on the pull up bar.

Kyra giggles mischeviously and watches as Kim almost has a near heart attack watching the trouble unfold, "Nah, Y/N. You've gotta do it like this!" With that, she pulls herself up onto the bar and flips herself over so she's dangling upside down.

"The pair of you get down before you get hurt!" Kim chides, trying to keep a stern facade when dealing with the pair of you. "Y/N, I'm serious. Get down!" She repeats, trying to reason with your chaotic antics.

"Your no fun. I only wanted to swing from the bar like a monkey," You huff in protest and begrudingly get off the bar to save your Captain from having an annuerysm.

Unfortunately for the older girl, your trouble doesn't seem to stop for too long and between you and Kyra, you had managed to mismatch everyones' boots when they were mostly preoccupied.

"Why do my boots' feel different?" Katies' the first one to realise as she looks at them in confusion, "These aren't mine," She notes.

Caitlins' just as quick to realise her own pair are missing, "Hey, who took my boots?" She questions.

"Seriously, guys?" Steph huffs, holding up two different sized boots in each of her hands.

Kim spins' round to look at you and Kyra, "Girls, did you do this?" She asks, her voice sounding calm, which is weary in itself.

"Who, us? Never!" You can't help but grin, which is a dead giveaway from your latest shenanigans.

"Yeah, we were just standing here," Kyra feigns her innocence and holds her hands up in mock surrender.

Alessia can't help but laugh and shake her head, "I bet it was you two. Your always up to something," She states.

"Maybe," You let out a small giggle.

Kim exhales a sigh at your antics, "Just switch them back. We need to start training soon!" She tells you both, sternly.

"Yes, ma'am," You joke and pretend to be serious with your Captain.

"Right away, Captain," Kyra gives Kim another mock salute as the pair of you set the boots to the right players.

"Why do I put up with this?" Kim mutters to herself, although its' loud enough to be heard from a few of the girls.

"Remember what Less said about needing a leash for Y/N," Steph chimes in, reminding the Scottish women about the idea.

"At this point, I'm actually considering it," Kim remarks, already having thoughts about it.

"Hey, I'm not a dog!" You overhear the conversation and shout in protest.

"Ha, could you imagine? Y/N on a leash at training," Katie snickers in amusement and shakes her head, "That'd be hilarious!"

"Might actually be a good idea," Vic, another one of the girls on the team, chips in.

"I'm deeply hurt by this suggestion!" You still continue to act offended.

"You know its' true, Y/N/N," Caitlin laughs at your own expense, going to take a sip of her water but pulls away with the frown when there's a revolting taste from it, "Ew, why does my water taste horrible?" She asks, confused.

"Oh God," Steph exhales a sigh and pinches the bridge of her nose, "Kyra, Y/N, what have you done now?" She questions, glancing in both of your directions.

"Oh no, we must've got the bottles all in a pickle," Kyra smirks and gives the clue away as you both share a look with one another.

You can't help but burst out into laughter again, meanwhile Kims' slowly rubbing her temples and trying to refrain calm over the situation.

"Right, that's it, Y/N-- I'm callin' Leah. I've had enough of your troublemaker ways!" Your Captain states in outrage, shaking her head.

You freeze in your tracks and immediatly start to shake your head in protest, "No, no, please, Kim... Please, don't do that!" You plead with her.

"One more chance," Kim warns, firmly. "One more slip up and I'm phoning her!" She adds, shaking her head and questioning her life decisions on how she got stuck babysitting the kids (the untrustworthy and non responsible young adults) for this trip.

Better yet, the younger girls' that had joined them on the trip were better behaved than you were at times.

Having this be your first time in Melbourne, let alone Australia, you were keen to explore and when the prospect of a trip to the zoo was on the tables, you were more than ecstatic to visit there and see all of the animals.

Ever since Kims' threat to phone Leah back home in London, you been trying to remain on your best behaviour. You really didn't want to be in trouble with the blonde again, so you'd done your best to avoid your troublemaker partner.

However, that is easier said than done sometimes.

"Wow," You spoke aloud in amazement as you walk through the entrance of the Melbourne zoo, with the rest of your team mates in tow, keen to see as many of the animals as possible.

"Stay close, Y/N. I don't want to loose you," Kim warns, already thinking ahead of your disappearing act in the airport previous to this.

"I want to see the Koalas," You huff in protest and try to figure out a way to get away from them.

"You will, there'll be plenty of time for that. You just need to be patient," Kim reassures you, although her patience is way past the point of calm.

"Come with me, Y/N. I'll show you where they are," Kyra offers the opportunity for you to sneak away from the rest of the girls in the search for the animal you want to see.

"Okay," You don't think twice before being led astray by the older girl once again and make your way to the enclosure where they are, "Wow, they're so cool!" You stare at them in amazement.

"Aren't they just?" Kyra murmers, looking at them.

"Hey, I have an idea," There's a twinkle of mischief in your eye again as you look at the older Australian girl, "Bet you can't get a selfie with one of them!"

"Oh, yeah? You're on!" Kyra isn't one to back down from the challenge, completely missing the 'no entry' sign in clear view, she creeps towards one of them and you get your phone out and hold it up ready to take the photo.

"Hey! What're you doing?" The loud voice of a zookeeper startles you both, almost causing you to drop your phone in the midst of it all, "You can't be in here!" They shout.

Without any hesistation, you both are quick to make an escape from there and scramble back over the railing.

Back with the rest of the girls, its' dawned on them that they've one again lost you both as they begin to search around for you.

"Y/N?" Kim shouts aloud.

"Kyra?" Steph and Caitlin both call out for the younger Aussie girl.

"Come out, come out, wherever you are," Katie chimes in, jokingly.

Alessia exhales a sigh and shakes her head, "How can they wonder off again without us realising?" She wonders.

Steph looks around and spots you both near the kaolo enclosure, "Oh boy," She mutters to herself.

"You might really need to invest in that leash after all, you know, Kim," Vic chips in, amusedly.

"I'm staring to think so too," Kim remarks, exhaling a sigh.

"I knew you'd come around," Alessia jokes, overhearing the conversation.

"There you both are!" Kim strides over with a stern expression, taking a hold of your upper bicep again. "That's it, that's the final straw. I'm calling Leah!" She states, already having made her mind up.

"It's not just me, its' Kyra too," Your quick to throw the older girl under the bus in protest.

"Hey!" Kyra whines in protest.

"You're meant to be setting an example, Kyra!" Caitlin scolds the younger Australian girl.

"You're older than Y/N, Kyra. You should know better!" Steph chimes in.

You can't help but smirk in satisfaction that you're not being scolded for once, "Can we go see the kangaroos now?" You question, innocently.

"Don't look to happy yet, Y/N. I'm still calling Leah when we're back at the hotel and telling her how much trouble you've caused over the last 24 hours," Kim remarks, which causes you to furrow your eyebrows. "And until then, I want you right by my side for the remainder of time that we're here so I know where you are!"

"Sit," Kim orders straight away as you follow her into her hotel lobby and begins to dial Leahs' number on her phone as she paces the floor back and forth, "Come on, pick up, pick up," She murmers as she waits for the response on the other end of the line, despite the time that it might be.

You can't help but sit there and hope that Leah doesn't answer, because you really knew you'd done it now to be in trouble, yet again.

"Hey Kim!" Leahs' voice answers on the other end of the phone, connecting the video call to where it looked like she was in gym surrounded with the rest of the girls back in London.

"Hi, Kimmy!" Beth pops her head in the video call and waves at her Captain. "Hows' Australia?" She wonders.

"It's a disaster, girls! I can't take it anymore!" Kim tells them frantically.

Leah looks immediately concerned as her eyebrows knit together, "Whoa, what's the matter?" She asks, confused.

"You look like you're about to have a nervous breakdown there, Kimmy," Beth jokes, seeing the exasperated look on the older women's face. "What's up?" She asks.

"Y/N and Kyra! Between them, they're both driving me insane!" Your Captain admits out loud, and you try to slump down in your seat to try and hide from the telling off that you know is iminant when Leah finds out what's been going on.

By this point, all the girls' in the gym have decided to surround Leahs' phone to find out about yours and Kyra's antics.

"Uh oh," Viv murmers, shaking her head. "What've they done?" She asks.

"I think its' more like what haven't they done," Beth jokes, trying to keep the mood light in the room.

Kim shakes her head and settles on the bed, trying to keep her attention between you and the phone call, "Leah, its' like Y/N is out to be a complete menace this trip," She pauses as she glances at you to make sure you're not doing anything you shouldn't be. "Together they've done nothing but cause trouble, from switching everyones' boots during training and putting pickle juice in the water bottles, and causing trouble on the plane with their pranks and don't even get me started about the airport either!"

"Wait, someone actually drank the pickle juice?" Manu looks considerably confused at the mention of the pickle juice in patricular.

"That doesn't sound good," Stina comments, laughing.

Laia smirks in amusement, "I can't believe it," She states.

"What happened at the airport?" Lia asks, curiously.

"Well lets' just say that Y/N wanted to go over and pet the friendly dogs," Kim remarks sarcastically, shaking her head.

Beth snorts in realisation, "The friendly dogs? You mean the patrol dogs-- Oh dear," She shakes her head in utter disbelief.

"I feel like I'm at my wits end with them both. We couldn't even go the zoo without them wandering off and getting into trouble, Alessia even suggested that I get a leash for Y/N and I'm half tempted!" Kim rambles to them over the phone, ready to pull her hair out after dealing with both you and Kyra for the last god-knows how many hours.

"I knew I should've come on this trip, Y/N's always a handful, but this sounds like its' too much," Leah exhales a sigh and bites her bottom lip. "Is she there with you now?" She asks.

"Shes' right here," Kim nods in agreement with the blonde, panning the camera to face you. 

"Hi Leah," You wave innocently at the blonde, hoping that she'll go easier on you.

It's needless to say that the blonde looks that impressed.

"Where's Kyra?" Viv questions, arching an eyebrow as she doesn't spot your counter part in the room.

"With Steph and Caitlin, I needed to seperate the pair of them. They're talking to her about this, but feel free to call in as well," Kim tells the Dutch.

"I'll call her afterwards. Can't her go anywhere unsupervised," Viv states, shaking her head in disappointment.

"You're doing great, Kimmy. Just a few more days!" Beth chimes in, trying to keep your Captain in high spirits. "Hang in there!"

Kim shakes her head in protest, "I'm never babysitting again! I'm gonna need a holiday after this-- I'm getting grey hair! I thought Y/N was bad on her own, but she's even worse when Kyra's with her!" She exclaims to the  girls.

Leah exhales a sigh, feeling for the older women as she pinches the bridge of her nose, "Right, okay. Put Y/N on Kim. Maybe I can get through to her," You can tell that the blondes' trying to remain calm and collective, but she feels annoyed at your behaviour still.

"Please do," Kim murmers, feeling relieved as she turns to look in your direction. "Y/N, come and talk to Leah!" She calls over.

"Uh no, no... I'm alright actually, I think I'll just--" You try and back out of talking to her, not ready for the confronation from the blonde.

"Over here, Y/F/N!" You hear Leah call you out directly and you inwardly curse, having no choice but to do as your told for once, waiting to speak again when you were in front of the camera, "What the hell are you playing at, kid?" She cuts straight to the point with a tone of voice, which makes you want to shrink onto the floor.

"Nothing, I'm just having a bit of fun..." You try and come across as innocent, hopeful that it'll cut out some of the lecture, "Hows' London? I miss you!" You add.

"Cut the bullshit, Y/N," Leah scoffs and shakes her head. "Listen, just because I'm not there doesn't mean that you can still get away with stuff like this, yeah? I trusted you to go on this trip, you have a responsiblity to set an example, there's girls there younger than you and this is the way you act-- It needs to stop!"

There's something about her scolding that scares you, but you're not too sure about what it is yet. Maybe its' the firm scary facial expression, or the way her words' are just straight to the point, something makes you fear the blonde.

Maybe its' the fact that shes' your hero, she used to be the one youd' look up to and aspire to be like, so to be letting her down seems like the wrong thing to do right now.

Despite your inital fear, you still can't help but act like a troublemaker.

"I don't see what the big deal is though? I'm just having fun. It's harmless, Le," You shrug your shoulders and bite her lip.

Leahs' look continues to be firm, "Enough, Y/N. You promised you would be good and if you keep on causing trouble like you are then I'm going to take away your sweet privledges for a month," She threatens you, which just seems out right criminal. "And if you make Kims' job any harder, then I'll personally make sure you're on a leash next time."

"A... A month without sweets? And a leash?" Your eyes' widen in realisation that maybe you really do need to sharpen up on your behaviour, with the threat of no sweets on the table, you need to actually do as your told now.

"Yes. A whole month without sweets and a leash. Do you understand?" Leah continues with her firm words.

Surely she's just bluffing? Like she'd actually do that, you think.

"You can't do that," You whine in protest.

"I can and I will, because as long as you live under my roof, then you follow my rules," The blonde warns you, firmly. "Do you understand?"

"But Le, that's... that's not fair!" You still can't help but whine.

"Oh this is better than reality TV," Beth chimes in from the side of the camera, where the rest of the girls are still crowded around the phone.

"Beth," Lia nudges the blonde and rolls her eyes.

"What? It's true!" Beth exclaims, shrugging her shoulders.

"It's completely fair, Y/N. I want you to have fun out there in Melbourne with the girls, but not at the expense of the every one," Leah still stands firm on her words. "Behave yourself, or there will be concequences!"

"Fine, I'll try and be good," You sigh dramatically.

"That's all I'm asking for, please," The blonde softens slightly and nods. "I'll check in with Kim later to see how you're doing. Be good, alright?" She tells you.

"Yeah, I will," You reluctantly agree with the blonde, "Now can you go and give Kyra the same lecture, cos' its' not fair if I just get in trouble for this!"

"Oh don't worry, kid. Vivs' already on that one," Beth jokes, panning the camera around to where Vivs' stood off on the other side of the room giving a lecture through the phone to Kyra to where you can even hear the tailend of the conversation. "Having fun at whos' expense? That is no way to act!"

You can't but giggle and shrug your shoulders, "Okay well that makes me feel better at least," You murmer as you wave to the rest of the girls and pass the phone back to Kim.

Leah shakes her head in amusement at your care-free attitude, "Hang in there, Kim. She'll be better now, but if she gives you any more trouble then call me, alright?" She reassures her Captain,

"You got it. Thanks, Leah. I appreciate you talk to her," Kim smiles in agreement, bidding their goodbyes and ending the phone call. "Right, you. How about we go and find the rest of the girls?" She makes the suggestion.

"Yeah, I wanna go and find out how bad of a lecture Kyra got," You smirk mischeviously at your Captain before you both exit the lobby in search for your troublemaker partner. "Race you to the lifts! Last one there's a rotten egg!" You add.

© scribblesofagoonerr

[muffinlance]

Kidnapped Zuko? Rescued by Gaang who dont know who he is and he has to hide his identity.

Okay, so. There’s already a teenager down in Commander Muttonchop’s brig. This fact is so far past concerning it’s wrapped around to let’s-not-think-too-hard-about-this hilarity, and Sokka finds himself grinning, and offering the guy a good ol’ fashioned Water Tribe wrist shake through the bars. They’re neighbors, after all.

“Hello, Fellow Prisoner. What are you in for?”

“I, uh,” says Fellow Prisoner, who is clearly undersocialized from his time in here. He’s looking a little grimy around the edges of his all-black outfit, and the bruises on him have had time to get newer, fresher bruises on top, which is just. That is all kinds of reassuring. Oh, and the giant fiery facial scar. Also reassuring. Though at least that one’s a few years old. So… inflicted when he was, what, Aang’s age?

So reassured, is feeling Sokka, for the Fire Nation’s upcoming hospitality.  

“Uh,” repeats Fellow Prisoner, who is uncoiling a little in the direction of Sokka’s offered hand. As if Sokka was trying to coax him out, and hadn’t just sort of forgotten he was holding it there while his thoughts were doing their downward spiral. But hey, one man’s desperate attempts to keep his cool were another man’s offer of friendship. Fellow Prisoner grasped his wrist and shook it, in both the most technically correct and least experienced Water Tribe wrist clasp Sokka has ever experienced. 

“Zhao thinks I was stealing military correspondence,” the guy says.

“Were you stealing military correspondence?” asks Sokka.

“Only his,” scowls Fellow Prisoner, to whom Sokka takes an immediate liking. “...What did you do? To get arrested. But not killed. He doesn’t usually…”

So, so reassured.

“Oh, you know,” Sokka says, continuing to shake wrists, because it is becoming clear that Fellow Prisoner has no idea how long this is supposed to last and Sokka isn't going to be the one to stop him. “The usual. Found the Avatar. Became traveling companions. Got captured doing something definitely heroic that did not in anyway involve excessive screaming of an unmanly pitch.”

“...The Avatar?” says Fellow Prisoner, who clearly knows how to focus on the important points.

“I’m bait,” says Sokka.

“For the Avatar.”

To be fair, Sokka is still a little stuck on that point, too. It’s been a few weeks, but he still wakes up too-hot in the night and wondering why the stars above him aren’t quite right.

“Yep,” he confirms.

Fellow Prisoner’s face does a thing. A sort of processing, processing, processing thing that involves progressively more scowling. “The Avatar left you? I knew the old man must be a coward.”

“So,” Sokka says, “about that.”

Fellow Prisoner drinks up Sokka’s story like a man who’s spent three years in a desert searching for water. 

- - -

(It’s been two and half years.)

- - - 

Their escape involves a significantly higher swords-to-escapees ratio than Sokka had anticipated, which is distractingly epic. 

Also, the last-minute bison save is both the stupidest thing his little sister could have possibly done and very welcome, which means that Sokka is going to catch his breath and let some of his adrenaline fade before channeling his inner Gran-Gran for a lecture. 

Fellow Prisoner sheaths both his swords. And kind of stares, rather than sitting down, so Sokka pulls him over before the bison turbulence (read: catapult dodging) can do the job. This does nothing to interrupt the staring. 

“Hi,” says Aang, looking back from Appa’s head. “I’m Aang! What’s your name?”

“...Li?”

Under the sunlight, Fellow Prisoner’s eyes glint gold. He is… very Fire Nation-y looking, now that there is enough light to see him. And he is warmer against Sokka’s side than anyone not feverish should be, even in the ridiculous heat these northerners call ‘winter’.

“Are you a firebender?” asks Aang, like that question hasn’t spent decades earning its status as an insult.

“Uh,” says Li.

“Great!” says Aang, who has already figured out Li-speak. “I need a teacher!”

On the deck below them, Zhao has gone from shouting to laughing. 

Sokka continues to be reassured.

[finelinevogue]

spreading the love

summary - harry’s fans LOVE you

pairing - fiancé!harry x reader

word count - ~2k

The fans absolutely loved you.

Probably more so than Harry sometimes.

You were often the subject headline of news articles that were actually about Harry. You were often asked about in interviews that Harry was doing. You were often stopped before Harry on the streets. Not that Harry minded in the slightest because, well, he understood.

Obviously, no one could love you more than he did but he understood the publics addiction towards you.

You hadn’t come from much and you weren’t a name people knew before you started dating Harry. Somehow, somewhere, along the way you had become a somebody.

And everyone adored you.

Whether it was your kind nature, you loving heart, your gorgeous smile or your generous soul, you never went unloved by anyone. Not even the cruelest hearted person could have anything bad to say about you.

You loved being involved with the fans too. You often gave a lot back to them just because they were the most dedicated and loyal people you knew.

You loved how much they loved your Harry.

“Hello, hello!” You tucked your hair behind your ear as you started your Instagram live.

Your viewers shot up from 3k to 104k in ten seconds - that’s how popular you had become with the fans and media.

“How are we all today? Feeling good? I’m feeling good since it’s a Friday. It’s my weekend off tomorrow.”

Everyone knew that you were an NHS nurse and did so much for the people you worked with and beside, which only added to the cause of people loving you.

ellaking107: what are you doing with your weekend off?💛

“Hi Ella! This weekend I am staying home with Harry. We have got a very boring weekend planned unfortunately. Our bathroom is having a redecoration and so we need to wait for the tile man to pop in at some point so he can start measuring up bits and pieces. I’m sure H will drag me for a run or to a pilates class too.”

You were situated in your lounge, lots of plants and good lighting surrounding you.

harryissmiling101: Where is Harry?

“Ummm, so Harry is currently at his mum’s. Maybe this is too much information, but his mum’s fridge broke and so all her food went off. Harry and I made loads of dishes though last night for her, so Harry’s dropped them all off along with a spare fridge we had. I know… Don’t ask why we had a spare fridge.”

You watched as you cat, Kira, came through the lounge door and hopped up onto the sofa you were sat on. You turned the camera so everyone could see her.

“My child says hello to you all. Don’t you Ki?” You began stroking her little black and white chin. “Oh you’re so gorgeous. I love you so much.”

haileyjudd: Harry or Kira?

“Hailey I can’t believe you’re even asking me that… Hailey said, choose between Harry and Kira. Honey, there’s no doubt about it. Obviously, Kira.” You laughed.

You knew some magazine would twist your words later and make it seem like you and Harry were going through a rocky patch in your relationship, but you knew the truth. Harry was completely whipped for you and there wasn’t a single chance he was leaving you. Ever. Then again, the feeling is very mutual.

Kira came closer to you and sat in your lap, nestling herself deep into the blanket you had draped over the top of you.

jammiiie: Are you single please?

“Hi Jamie, potentially.. maybe… Uh, no. I am not single and this will remain my answer indefinitely.” You smiled, thinking about how clingy Harry would get if you had read that out whilst he was say next to you.

Harry doesn’t get jealous, oh no.

He gets clingy. And you love it.

You love when he’s constantly doting on you; kissing you. He loved on you like he has to remind you your his (even though you always will be).

harriesassemble: Y/N can I ask you a question? My boyfriend told me that I have to shave (you know where) but I don’t feel comfortable doing that. How do I tell him? (Don’t answer if you feel uncomfortable)🤍

“Wait.. Hang on a second..” You spoke slowly, slowing the speed of the comments as you traced back to a comment that caught your attention.

“Hi, sorry I’m not sure what your name is, but I hope you are still here and know I’m speaking to you!“ You re-read out loud the comment posted so everyone knew what you were going to talk about. “So, first of all, girl to girl, if he is forcing you to do something as personal as shaving yourself then, my love, he’s not worth your time or breath.”

ophelialover: oh i am so here for y/n’s girl talk time

harrielover: y/n is so big sister coded

“Don’t do anything that you don’t want to do. Do not force yourself to be making changes to yourself just to please a man, or any significant other for that matter. If Harry ever forced me to make a change to myself I didn’t want, he knows where the door is. Seriously, honey, you’re perfect and never change unless you want to.”

harriesassemble: Thank you!🩷

kingsofharry: You’re amazinf Y/N <33

justkeepdriving: WE LOVE YOU Y/N

liked by y/nl/nofficial and 1,976 others

harriesassemble i can’t believe y/n just followed me i am in shock right now :((( she’s my favourite person in the whole world and everything they said to me this evening was just so special:(( im shaking so bad i love y/n so much❤️

view all 394 comments

harryfan1 OH THIS IS SO COOL

harryfan2 omg you were who y/n was talking to??? congrats!!!!!

y/nl/nofficial You’re amazing!💛

harryfan3 we stan y/n

••••••••••

London was quite busy today.

Lots of tourists bustling through the city as well as the daily commuters wandering around on their lunch breaks.

Harry had decided to take the afternoon off since you also had it off, organising to take you for a bite to eat and a coffee at your favourite cafe.

It was a cafe bookstore, so you got to browse books whilst waiting for your food and then got to sit amongst the books whilst you ate. It was a dream fantasy of yours as a child and you’re grateful someone brought that fantasy to life.

Harry held your hand securely as you wandered through the London streets.

Luckily Harry had secured a paparazzi ban years ago that meant that no paps were legally allowed to take photos of Harry in London, so it was just fan photos that you had to be aware of.

“Angela asked me to give her your number again today.” You said to Harry.

“She’s relentless.” Harry laughed.

“She just wants to know when her future grandson-in law is going to become her in-law.”

“Baby, I’ve told you before - I’m not asking until I’m ready.” He squeezed your hand.

“No, I know. I just want Nana Angela to be alive when we get married.”

“She will be. I promise.”

You both came to a stop at a red pedestrian light. Harry pulled you back slightly, because he knew that you liked to stand far too close to the edge of the pavement.

You looked up to Harry, watching as he took in his surroundings through a pair of brown sunglasses.

“C’mere a minute.” You said, directing his head to face you.

You reached up and unclipped your claw clip from his hair and ruffled the locks until he had a messy middle parting. You bit the clip between your teeth as you messed with his hair.

“What was wrong with m’hair?” He chuckled.

“Prefer it down like this.” You shrugged your shoulders and clipped the claw clip to the top of your jumper.

You smiled at your handy work.

He looked even more handsome now.

As you crossed the road, you spotted someone with a Love on Tour tote bag. It was one of the newest ones. It was being carried by a girl in her early 20s, maybe.

You poked Harry and pointed him towards the girl.

“She had good taste in music.” He joked.

You didn’t mean to follow this girl, but only happened to stop at another pedestrian red light next to her. You stood beside her and noticed she had headphones on.

You couldn’t help yourself from nudging her shoulder. As you prodded her, she gasped and cupped a hand over her mouth in shock. She quickly took off her headphones and giggled a hi out.

“Love the tote bag!” You smiled brightly.

“Ha ha thank you! Oh my God I can’t believe you’re actually here right now.” She laughed.

“Yup. Both of us.” You pulled Harry a little closer into you.

“Hi, you alright?” He spoke shyly, as ever when he is introduced to someone new.

“This isn’t real! Holy shit.” The girl laughed the situation off. “I was nearly not going to wear this tote bag today as well.”

“Well it must be a good luck charm then.” You laughed. “Which show did you go to?”

“Wembley night 4.”

“Ahh!! The best one then!” You exclaimed, Harry chuckling from behind you.

You always did this.

You managed to make friends with absolutely anybody on the streets, over the smallest of connections. You especially loved making friends with Harry’s fans.

“Well I think so, but I might be biased.” She shrugged.

“It was one of our favourite shows, wasn’t it H?” You nudged him into the conversation, knowing that he struggles with that.

“Yeah definitely. Wembley was unlike anything I’ve ever experienced before.” He nodded with a smile, looking at you more so than the girl. “I’m glad you enjoyed it and thank you for the support, it means a lot.”

You internally smiled at the small spiel that you had prepped with him for occasions where he might bump into a fan.

“What was your favourite part?” You asked curiously.

“Sign of The Times in the rain.”

“Oh stop! You’re going to make me force Harry into to going on another tour ASAP just to experience that again.”

“Oh, because of course I can control the rain too love.” Harry laughed, which made you both chuckle with him.

“Shut up.” You judged him in the ribs. “Well it was lovely to meet you…”

“Emma.”

“Emma.” You smiled.

“Thank you for your continued support, Emma.” Harry added. “Would you like a photo?”

“Uh.. Y-yes? Yes please! If that’s okay with you?” Emma politely checked.

“Of course. Just as long as you wait a little bit to post it so our location isn’t instantly publicised.”

“Yes. Of course! Thank you.”

“Here, honey, give me your phone.” You held out your hand, thinking that she would have wanted you to take a photo of just her and Harry.

“You have to be in it too, Y/N!” Emma exclaimed.

“Yeah, Y/N/N.” Harry rolled his eyes at your silliness. “C’mere.” Harry roped his arm around your waist and brought you to stand slightly in front of him. Emma was directly next to you and you all smiled as she lifted her arm to take a selfie. Harry’s cheek was pressed near against yours.

“They okay?” Harry asked.

“Perfect. Thank you guys so much.” Emma smiled so brightly.

After you parted ways you couldn’t help but imagine how electric Emma must be feeling right now. Harry seemed to be happy too, because you were happy after such a heartwarming conversation.

Positive interactions just made for better days.

Later, Emma would post that photo and the comments were even more wholesome.

comment 1: the way y/n and harry are stood so close to each other

comment 2: the fact harry has his literal cheek pressed against y/ns makes me WEEP

comment 3: they look so happy i will cry

•••••••

Another place where you would find wholesome content from the fans was the world of social media.

Normally, with Harry’s previous relationship’s, they would get absolutely hated on social media. There would always be something that would get dug out from someone’s past which meant they weren’t “right” for Harry. All of it was bullshit and Harry’s previous relationships had ended because he never felt “right” with anyone.

Until you.

You were now sat with Harry’s family around a small fire pit in Anne’s back garden.

Her lovely house had a beautiful garden that was perfect for dinner evening drinks and conversations. You often think about returning here with Harry and his last name one day.

“Top up, Y/N?” Anne asked, holding out the bottle red wine up to your wine glass that empty on the table.

“Oh, no thanks Anne.” You warmly smiled.

You were comfortably nestled in Harry’s lap with a blanket drawn over the two of you. Harry was nursing his own red wine with one hand, whilst the other supported your back from where you were sat sideways across his legs. Your head was nuzzled just below his chin and your hands were busy fiddling with his necklaces.

“You okay, m’love?” Harry asked you, so only you could hear.

“Mhm. Wine has made me sleepy.”

“Rest if you need to, i’m right here.” He kissed the top of your head.

You pulled your phone out of your hoodie pocket and opened it up to Twitter.

You followed a multitude of Harry’s fans on Twitter, simply for the shits and giggles. It had become a challenge to see who would be the next person that you would follow.

Scrolling through Twitter you noticed a lot of people reposting a photo of you and Harry that got leaked today. You were both simply walking through the park, but the photo clearly showed you wearing Harry’s hoodie and everyone was screaming over it.

harriesunite: these are my parents

“H, baby, look.” You giggled as you showed him the tweet.

“Hmm?” He tucked his face down into your neck as he read your phone, and leaving your neck warm after he laughed.

“You’re such a dad, apparently.”

“Not yet I’m not.” He kissed your exposed neck, but only once when he remembered he was sat in front of his mum.

“Y’want to be?” You turned your head a little to the side to see him better.

“Whenever you want to be a mum, yeah.” He smiled so brightly.

“Soon.”

“Yeah, soon.” Harry nodded in agreement.

[moonstruckme]

Hey love!

Was wondering if you could write a poly!maurader x fem!reader fic where (boys being boys) they had a bet who could go longer without sex and about a week reader decided to tease them a lil bit where she would flirt or like bend over to pick up smtg.

Thanks for requesting lovely!

cw: mature themes

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1k words

It’s so boy of them to discount you like this. Like, the bet had been funny at first, each of your boyfriends doing whatever they could to put the others in hot and heavy situations with you and each other, but after you and Sirius had gotten locked in a closet for the better part of an afternoon, they’d decided to take things down a notch. And as far as you’re concerned, that was when the fun part came to an end. 

The thing is, they’re guys. While they’re having their little stint of celibacy, they can at least still get themselves off. Multiple times a day, if they feel like it. It’s not that easy for you. So for you to not even have been involved in the bet, and yet be the one feeling its consequences most acutely…well, it’s beginning to grate on your nerves.

So you decide to make it fun again. 

“Oh, shit.” You say, getting James’ attention from where he’s going through the closet, trying to find a pair of pants to wear. “I dropped my wand under the bed.” 

He moves towards you. “I’ll get it for you, lovie.” 

“No, no, that’s alright.” You say, getting down on your hands and knees. “I’ve got it.” 

James falls silent as you arch your back under the pretense of reaching under the bed, letting your short skirt slip up to show the pretty, barely-there panties you’d picked out this morning. You linger for a bit longer than necessary, letting James take in the view from where he stands across from the bed. 

“Got it.” You emerge with the wand, sitting back on your legs and turning to James with a smile. 

His mouth is slightly open. He blinks, eyes dazed and pupils blown behind his lenses. “That’s, uh…” He blinks a few more times, faster. “That’s great, sweetheart. Glad you found it.” 

♡ ♡ ♡

“Gods.” Sirius nearly chokes when he sees you in the kitchen. “You’re looking nice today, angel.” 

You almost roll your eyes. You’re only wearing a tank top and underwear, but apparently that’s all it takes when your boyfriend’s been so long without any of you. Instead, you plaster on a coy smile.

“Thanks,” you say, as though you hadn’t noticed. “You look nice, too.” 

Sirius is making eyes at you as he leans his elbows on the counter. Like you’re the one who needs to worry. “Whatcha making, sweet thing?”

“Chocolate mousse. I’m just working on melting the chocolate right now.” You dip your forefinger into the warm, gooey liquid, bringing it to your mouth and sucking the chocolate off. You keep your eyes on Sirius’, so you can see the exact moment when his darken. “Mmm, want to try?” 

Sirius swallows. “Huh?”

You don’t bother looking innocuous, letting your eyes go droopy and suggestive in the way you know how. “I said, do you want some?” 

He’s silent for so long you think he might ask you to repeat yourself again, but then he clears his throat and stammers, “Uh, no—no thanks, doll. I’m good.” 

You pout. “It’s really good, though. Here, have a taste.” You cross the few steps between you and kiss him. 

Sirius takes a second to kiss you back, but when he does it’s so wanting that you don’t even have to be sneaky about winding one of your hands into his hair while using the other to bring his to your ass. He squeezes, and you moan into his mouth, grinding your hips into his just slightly. 

Sirius gasps, breaking away. He takes one step back, then another, putting distance between you as he tries to blink the glaze from his eyes. “Minx,” he whispers accusingly, and flees the kitchen. 

♡ ♡ ♡

“Thanks, baby.” You bat your eyelashes up at Remus as he brings you a glass of water from the kitchen. 

He lets out a low chuckle. “I know what you’re doing.” 

“No idea what you’re talking about,” you hum. 

Remus gives you a deadpan look, but there’s a glint of amusement in his amber eyes. “Earlier this morning, I went into our bedroom to find James, pantsless, with a hard-on.” It takes every ounce of control you have not to grin, but Remus quirks a brow like you have anyway. “And then a little while ago, Sirius came running out of the kitchen like something was chasing him, and he could barely speak. You didn’t have anything to do with that, dovey?” 

You let your eyes go wide and innocent as you shake your head. “Maybe they’re just getting sick of your competition.” 

“Mm, unlikely,” Remus hums, and his surety of his own willpower only worsens your determination to make him falter. “But if that’s the story you want to stick with, that’s fine.” 

You frown at him, the glass of water slippery with condensation in your palm. “Well, I—oh, damn!” you tip the glass of water into Remus’ lap, soaking his pants. He freezes, gasping at the cold. “I’m so sorry, honey. Here, let me help.” Luckily for you, you’d (completely coincidentally, of course) left a tea towel nearby earlier. You take it, blotting at Remus’ crotch with touches that start urgent but become lingering as you go on. After a minute, there’s really nothing left to sop up, and Remus hands are laid flat on the couch, every inch of him tense as you dab at his bulge with slow, tantalizing touches. 

When he speaks, his voice is low, gravelly. “You’re a lot more conniving than we give you credit for, you know that?”

You let your lips curl into a smile, leaving your hand to rest on his crotch. “I know.” 

Remus tips his head back, letting his eyes slip closed as he takes a slow, deep breath. “Fuck it.” 

You blink. “Huh?”

In the next second, Remus is gripping your hips and hoisting you up against him, your chest pressed to his. You inhale sharply as he stands, wrapping your legs around his waist, and he’s kissing at your throat, master of multitasking while he carries you into the bedroom. 

He nips at your jaw, and you giggle deliriously. “I won?” you ask, hardly believing it. Of all your boyfriends, you thought Remus had the least chance of breaking down before the others. 

His chuckle reverberates through you, and warmth flares in your core in response. “Sure you did, sweetheart. Though I think by the time we’re done here, who exactly won will be a bit more debatable.”

[2btheanswertothequestion]

Eddie's porn stash is a pretty conventional one. An 'if you've seen one stash you've seen them all' type. It basically only consists of skin mags, some of them kinky but most of them vanilla. Normal stuff.

The oddest thing in it is a two-year-old calendar. You know those sexy firefighter calendars? Usually a charity thing? A hit with the housewife crowd? Yeah. Except this calendar decided to branch out and include a bunch of sexy men from a bunch of sexy professions.

So, in this thing, joining the sexy firefighter is a sexy doctor, a sexy construction worker, a sexy police officer (whose month Eddie tore out and burned because fuck cops but don't ever fuck cops), a sexy librarian, and so on. They're all really good-looking, but none of them hold a candle to the paramedic.

It's weird. Paramedics aren't normally part of the traditionally sexy professions. It's messy and sometimes tragic, but lacks the high-paying glamour that doctors and nurses enjoy. Eddie's had his fair share of fantasies, and none of them involved fucking a paramedic.

Until two years ago.

The guy in the calendar simply is that hot.

There's not even anything risqué about his picture. None of the pictures go beyond "this dude is chiseled and shirtless", because veering even slightly past the softest softcore territory would scare off the little housewives or something.

(Eddie is actually pretty fucking sure it'd increase the sales, but hey, what does he know.)

The point is, there's nothing that obscene about the pic. Just a guy kneeling in the back of an ambulance, first aid equipment scattered between his powerful thighs, shirt open to reveal his sculpted torso…

Dark hair spanning across his pecs, over his abs, vanishing down his tight tight tight pants. Hips canting upward, bringing attention to the size of his bulge beneath the zipper. Broad shoulders, ripped arms and large hands, veins protruding across the back. A pretty yet masculine face, with a strong jaw and a straight nose, full lips, a smattering of moles going down his biteable neck. Voluminous, golden brown hair swooped away from his twinkling eyes.

He's got this look in them, this slant to his mouth. Like he knows he's the hottest guy in the calendar.

The one month everyone will go crazy for.

Eddie has become intimately familiar with that look. No joke, in two years it's made him crack his marbles more than anyone else has done in his quarter-century lifetime. When all else fails, November-paramedic has his back. It's basically his longest relationship to date, which sounds a lot sadder out loud (and it sounded fucking sad inside his head, too).

You might wonder why any of that is relevant now, as he sits on the curb outside of The Behemoth with blood trickling from his temple, his band giving their statements to one cop while another hauls away the snarling douchebag that clipped him. How does it play a part in this god-awful night out, you ask?

Well.

"Sir?"

Eddie startles, too caught up in the thudding inside his head, made worse by the buzzing crowd, to notice the man approaching him. He looks up, his gaze gliding past uniformed legs, muscular forearms, a curved neck and honeyed eyes appraising Eddie, and oh.

Oh God.

Eddie's breath sticks in his chest and his tongue becomes a cognate to sandpaper, because it's the paramedic.

It's the paramedic. From the calendar.

He's hallucinating. He has to be. He collapsed on the sidewalk, and now he's having one last weird sex dream before his brain finishes seeping out and he fucking dies.

November-paramedic crouches in front of him. Eddie continues to gape like he's getting ready to catch the peanuts no one is tossing at him.

"My name is Steve. I'm with the ambulance," November-paramedic says. "What's your name?"

Eddie makes a noise incomprehensible to most Earth cultures before his brain registers the meaning of the question and stutters out the answer.

"I- Uh- E-Eddie. It's, it's Eddie."

November-paramedic – Steve – smiles kindly. Heat prickles across Eddie's cheeks and neck. It's not the same as the cocky, sexy smile he's got in the calendar, but still. He's smiling. At Eddie!

"Hi, Eddie." He nods toward Eddie's temple. "That's an impressive cut you got there. May I take a look at it?"

"Yeah? Yeah. Um, g-go ahead."

As Steve sets down his bag and rummages through it, Eddie scours his face to confirm that it really is the guy from the calendar. To his chagrin, it is. There's no mistaking it. Those eyes, like liquid gold. That jawline, a weapon in its own right. Those moles, applied so skillfully it must've been by an artist's hand. That hair, coming straight out of a commercial for luxury shampoo. It's lying flatter than in the calendar, either lacking product or having sweated it out, but it's still glorious.

Steve, having finished washing his hands, tugs on a pair of disposable gloves. The plastic snaps against his wrist, sending a shiver through Eddie. It centers between his legs. Shit, if he pops a boner now…

"I'm going to ask you some questions, okay?" Steve says while pressing a square piece of gauze against the cut. "Do you know what day it is?"

"Eh, Thursday?"

"Do you know where you are?"

"The Behemoth."

Steve nods and, with a lopsided smile, asks, "And are you a patron or did you and your head injury just wander onto the scene?"

Eddie laughs. Loud, merry, and verging on too long. It wasn't even that funny. Steve seems pleased his joke was a success, though. Unless his smile is the uncomfortable kind that one wears when faced with the unhinged. Eddie isn't sure how much blood he's lost.

"No, I, like, my band…" he says, stammering like talking isn't what he does best. Jesus Christ, it's just a hot guy! Eddie has made a fool of himself in front of those plenty of times – no need to get flustered about it. He clears his throat. "We had a gig and, after, at the bar, some guys got into a fight. Got ugly, so we tried to leave, but… alas!" He makes a dramatic sweep of his arm, nearly clocking Steve. Steve expertly ducks away without lessening the pressure on the wound. Eddie soldiers on, not daring to pause lest he lose his steam. Hopefully his burning face is enough of an apology. "Fucker wasn't even aiming for me. He missed his intended target and struck me instead."

"Right. Did you lose consciousness after he hit you?"

"Nope."

"Good. Did you drink tonight?"

"Half a beer, at most."

"Do-"

"Eddie!"

Gareth's nasally voice cuts off Steve's question. The next second, he's materialized beside them with a slightly alarmed expression. "Dude, are you…!"

He trails off, eyes growing into dinner plates. There isn't that much blood, is there?

Steve looks Gareth up and down, a crease between his brows. "Is this your friend?"

"My drummer. Gareth."

Eddie half-expects Steve to demand Gareth leaves so he can do his job in peace, but nope. That kind, calm smile is back. He even gives him one of those little upward-nods 'cool guys' like to do.

"What's up, Gareth? I'm Steve; I'm with the ambulance. Just making sure Eddie won't keel over later tonight."

"Uh huh…" Gareth kneels opposite Steve. He's smiling too, but his is shit eating. Eddie frowns in confusion, because what does Gareth have to be happy about? He was freaking out right after Eddie got hit, but now he's staring at Steve like-

Oh.

He's staring at Steve.

No. Noooooooooo! Oh shit! Oh fuck! Oh why, why has he kept his porn stash in a drawer without a lock all these years?! He can't recollect the reason Gareth opened that particular drawer on that particular day – all Eddie remembers is how Gareth, Jeff, and Marv snickered when he explained the inclusion of the calendar.

That was it, though. They moved on. Sure, there has been the occasional roasting after the fact, but it's not like he hasn't also mocked them for their weird shit. But that's not the point. The point is that Gareth is staring at Steve like he recognizes him.

Gareth's attention flicks toward Eddie. Eddie shakes his head as subtly yet pleadingly as he can. Gareth's grin gobbles down another turd. Eddie makes a valiant effort to explode Gareth's eyeballs with his mind.

"Say…" Gareth turns to Steve. "Have we met?"

"I don't think so. Eddie, do you have a headache?"

"Yeah, man," Eddie says, voice trembling. "Hurts like hell."

"I could've sworn I've seen your face before," Gareth says. "Like, I'm 100% sure."

"Are you dizzy or nauseous?" Steve asks, ignoring Gareth.

"Um, a little dizzy but no nausea?"

"Hmm, okay. Blurred vision or uneven numbness?"

"No."

Steve nods, glancing at his watch. Then, to Eddie’s dismay, he looks at Gareth. "I've never been to this bar before."

"Nono, not here. Somewhere else…"

Steve's lips purse and his brows knit into the most adorable thinking-face Eddie has ever seen. His heart skips a beat, then skips two more as Steve's free hand gently cups Eddie's cheek. The skin catches fire where Steve's gloved fingertips touch it.

"Let me have a look at your pupils…" Steve says, guiding Eddie's face and, holy shit, leaning in close for a better look.

Eddie gulps, half his blood rushing up and the other half down; he squeezes his legs together to prevent the little guy from saying 'hello' to everyone present. His eyes rove over Steve's face. His lips are chapped and the skin on his nose is dry. The nose itself is somewhat crooked. Did he get into a fight between the calendar photoshoot and now, or did they make the nose straighter for the photo? Why would anyone think it necessary to edit a face like this one? Even with its imperfections mere inches away, it's still the handsomest Eddie has seen.

Steve hums. It's a perfectly preserved vinyl. It's a metal festival. It's Eddie's new favorite song.

"Same size but pretty dilated… Keep your eyes open, please." He shines a tiny flashlight into Eddie's eyes before nodding, satisfied. "All right, looks good."

He leans back out of Eddie's space, returning Eddie's ability to breathe, and removes the gauze. His smile tells Eddie that the bleeding has stopped. As great as it is that he won't hemorrhage to death, it also means their encounter is approaching its end.

"You might've seen me at the university campus?" Steve says, fiddling with some plasters; it takes Eddie's horny brain five full seconds to deduce he's talking to Gareth again.

"No-" Gareth freezes, mouth hanging open. His smugness has evaporated. "Actually, I might have? You're a student?"

Steve chuckles as he patches the last of Eddie's cut. "No, but my friends are. None of them own a car, so I end up driving them everywhere. Right, Eddie, I think you're good to recover at home. Unless you feel like you should head to the hospital?"

Great question! Does he? On the one hand: riding in the ambulance with Steve, ensuring a few additional minutes of his lustrous eyes and smooth voice.

On the other hand: hospital bills.

"… no."

"Okay. Do you have anyone who can keep an eye on you?"

Eddie shakes his head. "I live alone."

"Then maybe Gareth could hang around for the next 48 hours?"

"Sure can," Gareth says without hesitating. Eddie's heart swells with affection for him, despite his (failed! Hah!) plot to mortify Eddie to death.

Steve is already packing his medical bag.

"I want you to rest and avoid stressful situations," he tells Eddie. "No alcohol, no recreational drugs, no driving, and no working until you feel completely recovered. You may take tylenol, but not aspirin or ibuprofen. And if your symptoms worsen or you develop new ones – seek medical attention. Got it?"

The last part is sterner, reminding Eddie of every male authority figure he's strived to disobey during his teenage years. He has no such desire this time.

"Got it."

Steve raises his eyebrows as if to say 'have you really?', and Eddie has to wonder if it's he who seems contrariant and/or stupid enough to ignore the medic or if this is something Steve does with every patient. If it's the former, he mustn't seem that contrariant, because Steve's features soften into trust. He stands, brushing dust off his knees.

"Great. You boys take care now. Have a nice night."

"Yeah, you too, man," Eddie calls after him weakly as he retreats to the blinking ambulance. "Thanks…"

He keeps his gaze on the broad expanse of Steve's back, soaking in the rippling of his muscles as he walks and, oh would you look at that, his ass is as nice as the rest of him. Eddie's been wondering for two years now…

"Dude!"

Eddie jerks toward Gareth. Did he say that out loud? Did he drool? Is his boner showing? But no, Gareth isn't disgusted or disturbed – he's excited.

Shit.

He'll never hear the end of this.

"Don't!" he hisses.

Gareth just laughs, eyes twinkling.

"That was-"

"Don't!"

"I can't believe it!"

"Gareth-"

"You are so red right now!"

"For Jesus fucking Christ's fucking sake-"

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

Dedicated to @rougenancy for always listening to and encouraging my various thoughts, opinions, and ideas (they are constant).

Part 2

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