#i don’t even remember WHEN i first read it

[stylesharrys]

The Box | Part One [Boxerry]

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

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

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

WC: 19.6k

//

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She nods. “I am.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

// 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She can’t be serious. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

She takes the card and drives off.

//

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I didn’t think you worked Mondays!” 

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

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

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

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

“How are you feeling today?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Mary gasps. “Harry!” 

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

“Hello, Gran.”

Oh, you’ve got to be fucking kidding. 

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

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

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

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

He can see how much this pains her. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Harry huffs out a laugh. 

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

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

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

“Because he didn’t leave it to me.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

//

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He grins. “You tried.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah. I’ll meet you guys later.” 

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

“Hey.” 

Y/N clears her throat. “Hi.” 

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

“Are you closing?” She finally asks. 

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

She raises an eyebrow. “Midnight fights?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Scouted?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She’s much more attractive than he was. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Everyone listen up!” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Where are you going?” She asks. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Like she’s worried for him. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And the fight is over. 

//

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What do you mean?” she settles for. 

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

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

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

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

“It’s okay, my car’s outside.” 

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

“Okay. Text me when you’re home.” 

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

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

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

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

I’m home x

//

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What do you mean?” She blinks. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Harry: No. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Have you always wanted to work in care?” 

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

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

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

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

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

“Jesus. Penny, I’m so sorry.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Where’s your mum now?” She asks. 

Harry takes a sip of his drink. 

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

“Oh, wow.” Y/N’s eyes widen slightly. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Gran!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She does. 

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

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

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

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

“Cool artwork.” 

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

“Are you okay on the sofa?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

She doesn’t sleep all night. 

Neither does Harry. 

//

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

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

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

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

“No mum.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Where are you going?” She asks. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Happy birthday, Sammy. I miss you.” 

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

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

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

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

“It’s not getting any easier, Sammy.” 

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

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

The woman from the reception. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

//

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Have you seen Sammy today yet?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re not going with them?” 

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

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

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

“It’s your month's wages.” 

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

“Ten grand.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

//

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And Harry’s noticed. 

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

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

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

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

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

“Y’look really pretty, by the way.”  

Oof. Way to fucking play it cool, Harry. 

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

“What?” she breathes. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Nothing,” he says tightly. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She hates to admit that he drives better than her. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m sorry,” she quickly says. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re so wet, Penny.”

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

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

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

“Okay, baby. Whatever you want.” 

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

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

“Har, please.” 

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

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

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

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

“Please, Har. I need you.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes, yes,” she pants out.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Fuckkk, Daddy, please!” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re staying?” she peeps out. 

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

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

So, he does.

//

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

Feedback is always welcomed and appreciated!!

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

#harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles smut #imagine harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #harry styles fic #harry styles oneshot #the box #boxerry

[httpknjoon]

catching morning ghosts | jjk

plot | Before leaving the beach house, one of yours and Jungkook's friends caught something unbelievable.

words | 1.8k+

genres | fluff, crack,  secret relationship au, established relationship au, friends to lovers au

pairing | jungkook x reader

note | finished writing this while watching bangbangcon earlier. oh, I miss my ot7 so much! anyway enjoy reading! finale is coming!

main masterlist  |  drabble series masterlist

It was an early morning on the beach.

The distant sound of ocean waves plays as background music while Blaire and Jenny both clean up around the bonfire you guys set up last night. They were the earliest to wake up so they decided to do the cleaning while waiting for the others. It was agreed that you guys would go home on Sunday morning to rest at your own homes before going busy again. 

“Oh, god. I think I drank too much last night.” Jenny groaned as she picked up an empty can of beer. “I don’t remember how I even got into my room.”

Blaire laughed, “Jen, you didn’t. You somehow ended up sleeping on the kitchen floor, you scared the hell out of Dara! Wooshik had to carry you up to your room.”

Jenny scratched the back of her head. She definitely doesn’t remember any of that. The last thing she did that she can recall clearly is handing you your third can of beer while singing along to some song Jungkook plays on Wooshik’s guitar. She can also recall Dara casually leaning on Wooshik while chatting with Blaire.

“What time is it?” Jenny turned to Blaire after they finished cleaning within a few minutes.

Blaire checks her phone, “It’s almost 7:30. They still have like half an hour.”

“Oh, okay. I’ll just go get my bags and maybe check on the others too.”

Blaire nods and Jenny goes back inside the house. Before going straight to her room, Jenny began knocking on everyone’s door. For her first victim, she knocked on Wooshik’s door. It took exactly four knocks before Jenny heard, “I’m already awake!”. With that, she moved to Dara’s, who quickly opened the door.

“Oh, good morning.” Dara greeted her. The youngest in your group was already prepared to leave and all freshened up. She was just putting on her favorite earrings when Jenny knocked. “Is everyone ready?”

Jenny chuckled, “Actually, you’re the first one to open the door.”

“I thought Wooshik’s up already?” Dara asked. “He messaged me like minutes ago.”

“Yeah, he is. But he didn’t open the door. I still haven’t checked on YN and JK.” she explained. 

“Oh, okay… Anyway, you go check on them. I’ll make us coffee after I’m done with my bags.” Dara offers, earning a nod from Jenny.

As Dara closed her door, Jenny moved on to Jungkook’s door. And it seems like one, two, three couple of knocks are not enough as she hasn’t got any response from him. So, Jenny called his name while continuously knocking.

“Jungkook?”

“Jungkook?”

“Jungkook?”

“Jungkook?”

You groaned as you shifted in your sleep. Eyes still closed, you snuggled closer to the familiar warmth you can feel next to you. Inhaling his scent, your head lays on his chest comfortably while he holds your back. 

“Jungkook?”

After another call of his name, you tapped softly on Jungkook’s chest, whispering, “Babe.”

“Hmm?” Jungkook simply hummed in response.

“Jenny. Door.”

With how cozy and half-asleep you two are, you were too lazy to get up and have proper sentences in your conversation. You kept your eyes closed, comfortable on his skin, even though you wanted him to answer the door. Jungkook didn’t get up immediately either. As soon as he opens his eyes, he plants a kiss on the top of your head. You slowly moved your head and looked up at him, already with a smile on your lips.

“Whatever, I’m checking on YN then.”

“Ow!”

Your eyes widened. Jungkook panicked and fell on the wooden floor since he was lying on the edge of the bed. His fall resulted in a thud noise.  Shocked, you covered your mouth while your boyfriend rushed to go get to the door. With his butt still feeling a little numb, Jungkook opened the door, covering any chance that Jenny might see who is the other person inside. He had to cross his arms over his chest as he didn’t get the chance to put his shirt he left on the floor.

“Oh, hey, Jen.” Jungkook greeted her, trying to be as casual as he could.

Your best friend’s brows furrowed. She can feel something strange with this messy-haired guy in front of her, but she cannot just point it out. Plus, she heard that thud.

Nonetheless, she tried to shake it off, clearing her throat, “Uh, we’re leaving at 8.”

“Oh, yeah. Of course– I’ll go prepare. And my stuff too. That too.” 

Jungkook’s tongue was rambling with words and all you can do is listen on his bed while you watch his back conversing with your lovely best friend, who you wish is not suspicious of any of this. 

“Okay, you go do that. I’ll wake up YN–”

“Wait!”

Jenny was ready to knock on your door next to Jungkook’s but your boyfriend stopped her. Knowing that no one would answer those knocks since you are obviously nowhere there, Jungkook cuts her off.

“I’ll do that.”

“Why?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Oh… uh… you know… since we’re leaving in the same car, I can help her with her bags.” Jungkook tries to reason out.

“I know that, Jungkook. I’m just gonna wake her up,” she replied, still finding Jungkook’s actions a little strange.

“But she–”

Ping! A notification sound interrupted their weird conversation. Jenny checked her phone in her hand and immediately saw a text message from you.

From YN

i’m up! no need to check on me. i can literally hear u and jk outside. lemme just take a quick shower.

After reading that, Jenny looked at Jungkook and showed him your text message. It was like someone lifted the weights on Jungkook’s chest as he can breathe better now with your solution.

“I’ll go get my bags then. Don’t go back to bed, okay?” Jenny told him before leaving for her room.

You watched as your boyfriend sighed while closing the door behind him. He picked up his shirt and put it on before sitting on the bed. You scooched closer to him and hugged him.

“That was painful to watch.” you giggled.

His shoulders fell, “We should really tell them about us soon.”

“Yeah, maybe when we get back to the city? I think Wooshik knows already,” you said

“Huh? Why?” he asked, turning his head to you.

“He literally called me Princess last night when I was taking photos of Bam.” 

“He did?” he asked and you nodded. Unexpectedly, he wrapped you in an embrace, making you two fall back on the soft mattress of the bed, “No one gets to call you that except me!”

You simply laughed at that. You two ended up cuddling on the bed for no more than five minutes before you tapped him again to let you go so you could finally go back to your room.

“I should go change before we go,” you whispered.

Jungkook agreed, lifting his arm on your waist. He would usually request for five more minutes but he knew that your friends were already up. He followed behind you as you walked to the door. Just when you opened the door, Jungkook pulled you into him, immediately leaning down to peck your lips. He sees your lips form into a smile as he pulls away.

“Can’t let you start your day without a morning kiss,” he mumbled.

“Of course–”

“Guys?”

Two hearts dropped on the floor. You and Jungkook snapped your heads to the side where you heard someone say something. You instantly meet eyes with Dara, who’s currently frozen in place. Her bags fell from her hands when she witnessed you and Jungkook kissing. You two let go of each other, taking a few steps away for more space in between.

“Oh, hey, Dara?” you chuckled awkwardly. “Good morning?”

“Yeah, good morning, Dara.” Jungkook greeted her two, scratching his hair.

It took your innocent friend a few more seconds before processing everything. Her index finger points to you two as if asking if you and Jungkook are together. She was speechless, to say the least. Both of you nodded slowly. You raised your index finger in front of your lips before saying,

“Please?”

As soon as she understood it, Dara nodded, “O-Okay. I’ll go make coffee.”

Even though she was still confused and surprised about everything, Dara walked down the stairs with her things to remove herself from this awkward situation. Left alone, you and Jungkook looked at each other before you walked back to your room.

“Hi, Bam… What are you doing outside, buddy?”

Jenny was putting her bag in the trunk of Blaire’s car when she spotted Bam walking towards her, bringing something in his mouth. She was petting his head when she noticed it.

“What’s that?”

She leaned down and reached for that something in between Bam’s teeth. It did not take long for her to identify what it was. Her eyes widened as she held the plain green string bikini top in front of her face.

“Jen, what’s that?” Blaire, who just walked out of the beach house with a cup of coffee in her hand, asked. “Whose bikini is that?”

“I… don’t know. It’s like something Bam saw in the sand there.” Jenny replied, dumbfounded.

“Hmm. No one really stayed here except us.” Blaire said.

As if on cue, you and Jungkook walk out of the house with your bags to put them in his Jeep. Even though you were the one who let Bam out of the house earlier, you are unaware he brought a gift for everyone. You greeted Bam as he followed behind you to Jungkook’s car. That’s when you felt Jenny looking at you.

“What’s going on?”

“Bam brought this.” Jenny showed the green bikini, slinging in her finger.

Your eyes widened, immediately recognized what it was. It was yours. But you lost it last night after going to a quick night swimming with your boyfriend. Since it was already dark, you two had a hard time looking for your top after you got off the water. Jungkook let you wear his shirt instead before you sneaked back to the beach house.

“Oh, it’s YN’s,” Jungkook replied casually while organizing the bags. You almost shut him off.

“How… did you know?” your best friend asked. Her suspicions about Jungkook from earlier are just growing.

You watched as Jungkook stopped what he was doing and thought for a second. “Uh, I heard her complaining about losing something.”

Jenny looks at you for confirmation. You nodded and took the said piece of clothing from her.

“That’s right. Thank you, Jen. I probably left it on my room’s floor or somewhere.” you reasoned out nervously.

Although she squinted her eyes for a quick second, Jenny didn’t say anything and left you and Jungkook alone. Instantly after that, Jungkook chuckled. You glared at him in exchange.

‘I swear I’ll never go skinny dipping with you again.”

He lowered his sunglasses, “I doubt that, Princess.”

TAGLIST (CLOSED)

@hobiuwusunshine @alinerl @daydreamiies @craftymoonchaos @awseokjin @yoonabeo @luvrsofbts @bloopkook @chvngbiin @takochelle @wildarmy @cuddlysoftbear @luv-minhyun-world @shydestinyyouth @bbtsficrecs @fan-ati--c @rjsmochii @jkbabiey @hopeworldjimin @chieftoadturkeynickel @ppeachyttae @tannies-luv @loomipee @sanctify-mp3 @stuffy1985 @di0rgguk @tswisal1 @amara-mars @jksgirlhere @callmejimmeo @rapmonie2047 @daemontargaryenwhore @juju-227592

#bts fluff #bts series #bts drabble #bts scenarios #bts secret relationship au #bts established relationship au #bts friends to lovers #jungkook fluff #jungkook imagine #jungkook x reader #jungkook drabble #jungkook series #jungkook secret relationship au #jungkook established relationship #jungkook friends to lovers #our little private love affair

[misserabella]

two geniuses (playing love)

masterlist!

synopsis; feelings flourish in between the two of you as you’re forced to act as a couple. could a kiss finally let the two of you understand what was really going on underneath your supposedly hatred? you’re scared to find out.

cw; +18 content! minors dni!!, guns, shots being fired, girls being bitches, bickering, lots of teasing, so much flufffffff, spencer and reader being confused, pining, neck kisses, making out (their first kiss!!), violence, guns, shots being fired, spencer gets flustered a lot, also gets a boner… (so much more that i probably can’t remember)…

“so what do we know about this unsub?” hotch asked, all of you were sitting on the police station around the table, trying to understand this killers motive.

“well, we know his killings evolve around y/n.” morgan stated the obvious, to what you sighed.

“stalkers may exhibit a range of psychological issues, including personality disorders such as narcissistic personality disorder, borderline personality disorder, and delusional disorders like erotomania. stalking behaviors can also be influenced by insecure attachment styles rooted in childhood experiences.” spencer added, and you nodded.

“erotomania is a delusional disorder that makes a person believe the person of their infatuation hace reciprocated feelings or love and affection, when they don’t. it may even be a person they’ve never met. they might even be famous, like a politician or an actor. people with this disorder can be so sure of this love that they think they’re in a relationship with this person. they may not be able to accept facts that prove otherwise. it is also called de clérambault syndrome, and it’s rare. it can happen on its own. but it’s usually linked to another mental health condition, like schizophrenia or bipolar disorder. it can last for weeks or years.” you recited as if you were reading it off of a book.

“you two are like an encyclopedia.” emily smiled, chuckling.

“so this killer will go to the extreme of killing for you if needed.” jj nodded.

“seems like it.” you answered.

“he also seems pretty possessive and protective of you. he seems to have noticed spencer too.” morgan pointed out.

“you think he might think we’re dating?” you inquired with disbelief.

“it would play to our favor. if our profile around him is right, he might not be able to control the need to stay quiet about it and take action.” gideon said, what made you scoff.

“so what now? we should hold hands and act like a happy couple? fuck no.”

“y/n.” hotch scolded you.

“i’m sorry but that’s not gonna work. if none of you have noticed, spencer and i don’t really get along.”

“shocker!” emily sarcastically said, to what you squinted your eyes at her.

“come on guys… i can’t be the only one who doesn’t see this working out.” you tried to make up their minds and spencer pitched in.

“yeah. and to be honest i don’t want to become the unsub’s new target.” spencer pointed out.

jj stepped in. “it's true that your relationship has been strained, but you're both intelligent individuals. i’m sure you can put aside your differences to sell this lie. it's not about whether or not you like each other; it's about stopping this unsub at all costs." you listened to her words, groaning. she was right. you needed to stop acting like children and work together to catch this unsub.

you looked at spencer, who was already looking at you, communicating with a nod.

“you’re right.” you sighed at jj. “i guess it’s the only way, huh?” you gave in.

hotch stepped in, a flicker of relief crossing his face. "good. now, let's think through the details. we need to create a plausible backstory for your relationship, make sure your body language and interactions are believable, and be prepared for any curveballs the unsub might throw at us. this isn't going to be easy, but I have faith in both of you, and I know you can make this work." you pinched the bridge of your nose.

“how should we… how should we act around each other?” you inquired, cringing internally.

rossi answered “for your relationship to appear authentic, you'll need to display a certain level of intimacy and affection.”

“holding hands, touching each other frequently, being in close proximity… you can't come across as distant or awkward, as that would immediately raise suspicions.”emily added.

“you need to convince the unsub that you're truly in love with each other." jj finished and you scoffed.

“well that’s gonna be easy…” you sarcastically said, bracing yourself for what’s about to come.

-

his hand is warm, big engulfing your own. and clammy. spencer is nervous, awkward, you can feel it as you two walk through the beach, the light breeze hitting your skin, the salt engulfing your lungs.

you two have not said one word since you’ve left the headquarters, not on the way back to the hotel, or when you moved your things into his room, or on the way to the beach…

silence. total and absolute silence.

this was your new reality. to play fantasy with the person you hated the most. to act as if only love was what stood between the two of you and not this immense hatred that gnawed at your insides.

“did you know that by the amount of germs a hand holds it’s actually safer to kiss?” he asks, and his voice sounds hoarse by the silence he has buried himself in.

you hummed. “does that mean you’d prefer me to kiss you instead or hold your hand?” you asked, and he choked.

“what? no! no, what i meant is… i just…” you chuckled.

“relax, reid. it was a joke. i want to kiss you as much as you want to kiss me.” you rolled your eyes. “you’re so tense that whoever saw you would think im holding you hostage and making you hold my hand.” he scoffs.

“sorry. it’s just… awkward.”

“tell me about it…” you sighed, leaving your beach bag down onto the sand. “i think this might be a good spot.”

“for what?” he inquired, letting go of your hand.

“we’re supposed to be on a date, reid. doing things a couple does. you know… watch the sunset, spend time together… all of that.”

“oh.” he muttered. “yeah. that makes sense.” he nodded, watching you take out a couple of towels to spread them across the sand.

“gonna help me or stand there watching?” you chuckled, and he quickly moved to help you, muttering a ‘right, sorry’ that made you laugh internally. who’d know spencer could act like this? embarrassed and coy in front of you?

then he sat, book in hand. of course. “seriously? you’re gonna read right now?” you inquired him and he looked up at you.

“why not? the beach is one of the most relaxing places to read.” he shrugged, and you shook your head, pulling from your beach dress to get it off, leaving yourself on a blue bikini.

his eyes trailed down your sun kissed skin, the sun was setting, giving you a golden hue that made you shine.

“come with me.” your words took him out of his mind, his eyebrows raising as you offered him your hand. “come on.” he seemed suspicious, but again, he had to trust you if this lie was gonna be bought. and so he took your hand and got up. he tried not to think about the fact that your body was mostly exposed, and about the feeling of your soft smaller hand on his bigger one.

you let him go once he was up on his feet, and he took off his shirt, leaving him on his swimwear.

“so i wasn’t actually hallucinating it the last time… where were you hiding that?” you teased him, looking at his soft but toned body. he rolled his eyes.

“stop looking at me.”

“why? does it make you nervous?” you rose your eyebrows. “do i make you nervous, spencer?” you leaned in and he took a step back.

“no. i just don’t like it.” his nose scrunched up and you hummed.

“yeah, right.” you rolled your eyes, giving him your back to start walking towards the shore.

“no. really.” he followed you with a frown, feet fast behind you.

“it’s okay, spencer. your little crush on me it’s cute.”

his eyes widened. “what?! i don’t have a crush on you!”

your feet met the water and you walked in. you heard his splashes behind you as the water met your knees. it was just the perfect temperature.

“you’re dumb.” you said while facing him once again. and he gave you an incredulous look.

“i’m not dumb! why would i be dumb?”

“because of this.” and with a quick movement you were maneuvering him into the water, leaving him splashing your thighs and tummy. you laughed at his glare and shocked expression, his pretty hair now mildly soaked. “god. reid. it’s the second time this happens to you. you don’t learn!”

“you think this is funny, do you?” he asks you, looking up at you.

“definitely.” you nodded, still chuckling, your chest heaving up and down with ragged breathing.

“yeah?”

“yea-“ but before you could finish he was grabbing your hand and pulling you down into the water with him. you froze as you fell on his lap, water splashing around the two of you.

“well, check who’s in the water now, huh?” he was laughing at your shocked expression and damp face before he noticed the position in which the two of you were in, his laughter dying quickly enough.

his eyes met your body, wet in droplets that slid down your chest and navel towards your hips submerged in the water and on top of his. he swallowed at the feeling of your soft weight on him, the swell of your chest right in front of his face, centimeters away from his lips. the curve of your neck… your hair falling over it and down your collarbones… the warmth of your hands on his shoulders, the softness of the skin of your hip under his unconscious grip.

you looked down at him. at his messy hair that had started curling due to the salt, at his thin yet toned build, his heaving chest, his sharp jaw, his hazel puppy eyes, his long lashes… the way he was now looking at you…

“uhm…” he cleared his throat. and the spell in between the two of you broke. you shook your head.

“i should probably…” you pointed at your back, trying to gesture that you should get up, and he nodded, pulling his hands away from your body.

“yeah. yeah.” he nodded, and you used him for leverage to get back on your feet. it was awkward. the tension in between the two of you as he too got back on his feet, neither of you looking at each other. the sun was setting.

“i think i’m gonna… go read.” you nodded.

“yeah. okay. i’ll… i’ll meet you there.” he copied the shaking of your head, and after a couple of seconds in silence he staggered in turning around and getting out of the water. you only went in deeper, submerging your head under the waves, where there was no noise, and no thoughts clouding your head. no doubts. although you could still feel the vivid heartbeat of your heart, crashing harshly against your ribs.

spencer tried to focus on his book, but as much as he’d like to not admit it, his eyes were zeroed on you.

-

“okay…” you hummed. “ursa minor.” you pointed at the sky.

the sun was long gone, and yet, spencer and you still were on the beach, lying on your towels, admiring the map of stars above your heads.

spencer took his turn, pointing just a little bit far away from your constellation. “ursa mayor.”

“now that’s and easy one.” you rolled your eyes teasing him, and he couldn’t help but copy you.

“okay. what about… camelopardalis?” he pointed it out in the sky and you hummed.

“now you’re just showing off.” he groaned.

“oh, so now i’m showing off?” he smirked and you nodded.

“yeah, come on. you could have just pointed out draco. instead you chose camelopardalis? you’re a show off.” he chuckled.

“okay. maybe i just wanted to shut you up.” he shrugged and you laughed.

“now, that’s not easy.”

“tell me about it.” he mumbled. “hey look. it’s saturn.” he pointed it out, it shining more than a normal star.

“and mars.” you said, pointing it out as well.

“and dwarf planet 1 ceres.” he added and you looked at him with your eyebrows raising.

“you’re bluffing.”

“i’m not!”

“yes you are, reid. that planet can only be seen with binoculars. you wear glasses!”

“how do you know that?” you laughed.

“caught you!” he rolled his eyes.

“okay. maybe i memorized tonight’s sky map, so what?” you chuckled at his response.

“you’re a nerd.”

“yeah? well so are you. what’s your iq, 170?”

“177.” his eyes widened. “what?”

“i mean. i knew you were intelligent. but we almost share the same iq. that’s… that’s impressive.”

“was that a compliment, doctor reid?” you smirked.

he shook his head with a smile, scoffing. “no.”

“it was though.”

“it wasn’t.”

“it totally was.” your bickering caused him to laugh.

“you’re insufferable.” he groaned, and you smiled.

“i know.” you two rested in silence, looking at the sky. “this isn’t so bad…” he looked at you. “i mean, sure. i don’t like you. and acting as your girlfriend totally sucks, believe me. but i thought it would be worse.” he hummed.

“you have a way of complimenting someone and at the same time insulting them that is fascinating.” he said, and you chuckled. “by the way… what time is it?” you took your phone.

“almost one am.” you answered his question.

“we should probably get going.” he muttered and you rose your eyebrows.

“you want me back into your bed so soon, reid?” he scoffed.

“you really like to assume those kinds of things. in the end i’m gonna start thinking you’re the one who wants me in your bed.” your eyes widened.

“fuck no!” you said while getting up from the towel, and he smirked up at you.

“you sure?”

“of course i am.”

“then why are you avoiding my eyes?” he got up to stand beside you, a smirk on his face. you wanted to punch it out of him.

“i’m not.” you scoffed.

“but you are.” your skin rose in goosebumps as he stepped closer, your breath hitching when he took your chin and made you look up at him into his hazel eyes. the moonlight made them shine. and for a moment you forgot that he was teasing you, playing with you.

“i don’t want you in my bed.” you said, straight into his eyes, pushing away his touch. he smiled.

“okay. i’ll believe you.” you looked away from him as he started gathering his things and put on back his shirt. you wondered why your cheeks were burning. why your heart was racing.

he put your beach bag over his shoulder. “let’s go.” and even though your body jolted underneath his touch as he took your hand to guide you down the shore back to the hotel —and you reminded yourself that this was all part of the lie you were playing—, you let him.

-

“how are our lovebirds?” garcia asked through the phone and you rolled your eyes.

“would be better if you’d catch this guy now…” you said, and heard snickers from the other part of the line.

“he’s behaving, isn’t he?” morgan inquired and spencer frowned.

“what?! what do you mean behave?” you shushed him.

“he’s not being so bad… usual reid.” morgan laughed. “any news on the unsub?”

“actually, yeah.” jj said. “we caught him lurking on the beach you guys visited, but he was far from our reach. seemed pretty angry.”

“so he’s getting closer…” you nodded.

“he seemed to buy into the lie of the relationship.” spencer hummed and you nodded.

“you guys need to keep it up. if our profile is right he will not stand still and watch, he’ll confront the two of you soon.” hotch said.

“alright. we will.” you promised.

“we’ll keep in touch.” emily said before the line went dead and the two of you looked at each other.

“what should we do now?” he inquired.

“go to the pool.” you smiled and he groaned. “come on. he needs to see us.” you said while getting a bikini and entering the bathroom to get changed. once done you got out and found him with a pair of red trunks. “now that’s the spirit.” you smiled and he rolled his eyes. “come on, reid. the sun is up and shining for us. time to sunbathe!” he took some of his books and his sunglasses, following after you out of your room and though the hallways of the hotel until you two were met by happy squealing and laughter from the children enjoying their time in the pool, splashing each other.

you two took a sun lounge each, his umbrella staying open while yours stood shut as you applied tanning oil to your skin after getting rid of your shorts. spencer kept his summer sheer shirt, laying sat up straight in the sun lounge as he quickly went through the pages, reading 20.000 words per minute. you laid on your own, bathing in the warmth of the sun as it prickled your skin.

you were enjoying the tranquility until some shadows took over your sun. you peeked your eyes open to see three girls standing over the two of you, sweet smiles on their faces as they stared at your right. more like… at spencer.

“hey.” one of them caught his attention, and his hazel eyes pulled away from his book towards the blonde.

“what are you reading?” a brunette asked him next, and he stuttered just the slightest before answering.

“uhmm… anna karenina. it’s from leo tolstoy from 1878. it deals with themes of betrayal, faith, family, marriage, imperial russia, society, desire, and the differences between rural and urban life. it’s actually my second time reading it. this time in the original russian.” he spat out, babbling as the three girls listening. more like ate him up with their eyes.

“you’re cute.” the third and last girl, another blonde smiled, and spencer’s eyes widened.

“could i get your number?” the brunette inquired him and you sat up straight, slightly clearing your throat, what made them look at you. “and you are…?”

you smiled. “his girlfriend.” spencer looked at you scandalized, what almost made you laugh. “i mean i get you guys…” you said with a smirk, leaning over him, your chest pressing against his as your arms circled his neck. his breath hitched as you hummed, looking at him before looking back at the three girls that now stunned looked at you. “he’s just too cute, isn’t he?” you took his face with one of your hands, making his lips pout out. he looked at you with furrowed eyebrows and widened eyes. you smiled at him, his cheeks flushing at your words and the way your body just pushed closer against his. “but he’s mine.” you crooked your head towards the girls. “so if you don’t mind…”

“actually i do mind.” the brunette said. and your eyebrows rose. “i don’t see your name branded on him.” you slowly pulled away from spencer, getting on your feet.

you smiled softly at her. spencer didn’t like it one bit. you never smiled. not like that. “what’s your name?”

“ashley.” she answered, and you saw spencer getting up get beside your from the side of your eyes as you gave her a once over, your eyes landing on her pool heels. he was cautious, he knew something was wrong. sweet intelligent spencer…

“i like your shoes.” you started, simple, and she looked confused at you. “you gonna… be able to run in those?” you inquired.

“what?” and before she knew what was happening you were launching yourself towards her. good timing spencer was fast enough to catch you in between his arms as her friends pulled her away, running from you with ‘let’s go!’s.

“yeah, that’s more like it. see you, ashley!!!” you said while fighting spencer’s tight hold on you. “bitch…” you murmured when they got lost into the hotel. he let you go when you had seemingly calmed down and stared at you.

“what was that?”

“what? she was being a bitch.” you shrugged and got back to your sun lounge.

“no. i mean. what was that?”

“reid. i’m supposed to be your girlfriend… don’t you think that’s how a girlfriend would act?” you inquired him, and he looked around, scratching his nape.

“i mean, yeah but…” you cut him off.

“then it’s settled.” you said before closing your eyes and getting back with your sun.

he stared at you, still in shock and with flushed cheeks. his mind got filled with images and moments from the last days; you in the pool the night you’d thrown him in, how you had teased him, how your lips had almost touched his, last night at the beach when you had fallen on top of him… and now… seeing you that way, had done… things to him. things he didn’t want to accept. his whole body was tense, his heart was stuttering, his eyes whole face was red, and his stomach was feeling bubbly and… well. okay. no. enough.

he cleared his throat and sat down beside you, retrieving his book, trying to dismiss the knot in his throat. he looked at you. at your slowly tanning skin, the shine it had due to the oil you had bathed yourself in, your beautiful curves accentuated by the white bikini you’d gone for today, your soft features, your long lashes, your plump lips, your soft jaw, the soft skin of your neck, your…

when his eyes dropped too low he looked away, clearing his throat.

he tried to go back to the russian, but he was flustered. after minutes of trying to get back in focus, he gave up, getting up and pulling his shirt off, what caught your attention.

“where are you going?” you inquired.

“i was gonna go for a swim.” he pointed to the pool, and you sprung up.

“i’ll join you.” you smiled, and his heart stuttered at the recurring memories of that night in the pool. let it go, spencer.

following him into the water, you sigh at the fresh feeling of it engulfing you and making your overheated skin find solace.

spencer dampens his hair, pushing it backwards in a slick manner that exposes his strong cheek bones. but it’s when you finally stop staring at him that you notice it.

his breath hitched when your arms surrounded his neck, pulling him closer, your chest pressed against his as you spun in the water.

“what are you doing?” he inquired you, his hands subconsciously grabbing your hips. to push you away? to pull you closer? who knew…

“your twelve o’ clock. i think it’s our guy.” you muttered in his ear swiftly, smiling at him as if you were absolutely smitten, playing with his hair. spencer looked just for a moment. it was a white male, in his late thirties, wearing glasses and a cap, staring straight at the two of you with clenched fists.

“he surely doesn’t look happy.” he muttered to you, pulling you closer. “looks like it might be him.” you hummed. “what should we do?”

“well you should definitely act like you love me.” you smiled, cupping his cheek. “like this…” you looked straight into his eyes, and his breath hitched. if he didn’t knew better you’d have fooled him, ‘cause you were looking at him as if you craved nothing else, no one else but him.

you almost chocked when one of his hands found your hair, his breath pressing against your neck just before his lips did. “does this work?” he inquired you, pressing another chaste kiss on the sensitive skin.

you had to come and get back your trail of thought, ‘cause he had stolen it away just that easy. it was unnerving.

“you tell me. you’re the one facing him.” you whispered, and he hummed against your skin. you had to pretend as if it y didn’t send shivers down your spine.

“he’s just staring.” he stated.

“he wouldn’t dare do something with this much people around.” you figured.

“or maybe he just doesn’t want to taint his image before you. he wants to meet you in the perfect way, perfect place, perfect time.”

“what a romantic…” you rolled your eyes.

“he’s moving.” spencer announced.

“leaving?” you inquired and he nodded, his soft stubble scratching your neck and making you shudder in his arms.

“seems like it.” once out of sight he let you go, and you looked away from his eyes, the imprint of his hold on your hips still lingering on your skin, his kisses still burning your neck.

“he won’t be able to hold on for much longer...”

you nodded, fidgeting. “i’ll… i’ll go tell the team.”

“yeah. okay.” spencer copies your shake of head, and you got out of the pool, his eyes training on your back and down your body before he caught himself staring, quickly looking away and pushing his hair back anxiously. he could still feel the softness of your skin, smell the coconut tanning oil you’d lathered yourself in, remember how right you’d feel in between his arms, taking whatever he gave you…

he sighed. get it together reid.

but he had to spend a while in the water to properly calm down before making his way back to you. this was gonna end badly.

-

dinner with spencer was easy. it was a warm night. and he looked good. with a blue button up shirt and white pants along with his brown shoes. it was easy to talk to him, even easier to let him pay and let him walk you by his hand through the hotel and into the gardens of it. it was so easy to live this lovers lie that it terrified you. the moon and stars were shining bright above your heads, and the silence that filled the distance in between the two of you was as comfortable as it could get.

that was until he was breaking it to stutter about theories of the universe. theories you already knew. but for once you decided to keep quiet and listen to his rambling, enjoying the way his eyes sparkled with knowledge, the way his lips curled into a smile with every little fact that spilled from them…your heart was hammering inside your chest. it has been since the time in the pool. you were scared he could feel your heartbeat by how tight he was holding your hand. you’d come to understand that he wasn’t that bad. sure, he sometimes could get under your skin and make you lose your temper, but spencer reid could be as soft as a feather when he wanted to, and that made it all even worse. you were used to his narcissism, to his hatred, not to his ‘love’. was this how he really was or just another lie? just another façade? you were haunted by the feelings that this side of him flourished in your body.

“there’s someone following you.” since the spotting in the pool, the team had made sure to give you an earpiece each to communicate with you in case of emergency. jj’s voice made spencer’s waver, but to play along he just pulled you closer and continued with his theories. “seems like the man you told us about, y/n.”

you two slowly stopped walking, looking at each other as he kept talking, waiting for orders.

“he stopped. he’s just… watching.” emily announced and you inquired spencer and the team.

“what should we do? he’s not gonna come to us that easily…”

“reid, kiss her.” hotch ordered and his eyes widened, breath hitching and his hold on your hand hardening.

“what? no! i’m not going to kiss her!” he whispered-yelled, completely astonished.

“the physical contact will drive him to approach you both. we’ll be right there.” morgan chirped in, trying to convince his friend, soothe his anxiety. but spencer wasn’t scared of the unsub. he was scared of you. terrified. terrified by how good it felt to have you this close, to hold your hand, to see your smile, to share time with you… he wondered if this last thing would make him crack. would make him understand that it wasn’t hatred all along. he wasn’t sure he was ready to know the truth.

“there must be another way, i-“ he tried, but you groaned at his hesitation, taking the matter into your own hands.

“for the love of god, reid.” you grabbed at his curly hair, and in a tug, you pulled him down against your mouth. he froze at first, surprised, in shock at the soft feeling of your lips against his, at the feeling of your chest tightly pressed against him. but then it all completely changes, he can’t get enough. he cupped yor face in between his warm hands and pulled you closer, until there was no space between you two, something he must hate, but only finds himself enjoying. you gasp into his mouth and he takes the opportunity to push his tongue inside, pushing you against the wall of the hotel, devouring you as if he had been waiting years for this moment. you were air. and he was drowning.

“slow down…” you breathily moan against his lips, and he groans.

“i can’t.” he confessed.

the kiss that follows is just as desperate and harsh, your tongues dancing around the other as he kisses you like you’re everything he’s ever craved. you feel him press against you, and the feeling of a bulge on his crotch surprises you.

“you seem to be enjoying this a little bit too much, reid.” you said with a smirk as you felt his growing erection pushing against your thigh to find solace, some friction, anything to make him feel better. he’s losing control, he knows. but he looks into your dazed eyes and he knows you are falling just as hard. he hopes the fall doesn’t hurt as bad as his heart right now.

“i hate you.” he muttered against your lips.

“say it like you mean it.” and before he could kiss you again, the sound of a gun being loaded sounded.

“get away from her.” a male voice filled your ears and spencer stepped away from you, leaving you cold, confused and in need of more you thought you’d never crave. “get away!” he repeated pointing at him with the gun.

“okay, okay… calm down…” he softly said, taking a couple of steps away from you.

“how do you dare touch her?!” he screamed. he seemed scattered. “nobody should touch her. she’s mine!”

“no, she’s not.” spencer said just as morgan knocked the unsub to the ground, a shot being fired, the bulled burying itself inches away from you on the wall. he was quick to reach out for you as you looked down at yourself. “are you okay?” he inquired, taking your face, inspecting it.

“don’t touch her!” the man screamed again as you nodded.

“easy!” morgan yelled as he cuffed him up.

“yeah… i’m alright.” you muttered and spencer nodded, looking right into your eyes. you could still see his flushed cheeks, and his swollen wet lips, could see traces of you left behind. you wanted to taste him again. and again. and again. until the only thing you could remember was him and his lips, and the feeling of his body pressing against you.

that night. something changes. and it scares not only your bones, but your soul as well.

-

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[pitchsidestories]

hate that I love you II Ana Maria Crnogorčević x Reader

masterlist I word count: 1759

a/n: we hope you enjoy reading the oneshot, we'd love to hear your thoughts on it. <3

warnings: slight smut in the middle, a bit of angst, but with a happy ending.🖤

“Ana!”, Keira shouted the name of your former Barca teammate, after the English midfielder has spotted the Swiss woman in the crowd.

The Champions league final was over, your team has won the title a second time in a row. But the celebratory mood you were in just a few seconds ago was gone at the sight of your ex-girlfriend. It made your blood turn cold.

“Ale, what the hell is Ana doing here? Who even invited her?”, you asked your captain furiously.

In an instant, she noticed your change of mood, that was why the midfielder replied cautiously:” I think some of the girls did or she just came to visit.”

“Oh, wow.”, you huffed, trying to get as far away from your former lover as possible. Seems like you weren’t that lucky this evening in Bilbao, she already had set her eyes on you, calling your name.

“Hi, y/n.”

“Ana. Sorry, but I got to go.”, you lied, while walking into the direction to the changing rooms.

“Where’s she going?”, Ana questioned as she was slowly following you..

“Isn’t that obvious? You broke up with her.”, Alexia reminded the taller woman.

“She still didn’t have to run away.”, the Swiss player mumbled, the hurt was written all over her face.

Meanwhile Keira who has been quiet after hugging her enthusiastically, joined their conversation with a low voice:” No but you ran away first, remember?”

“I didn’t. It was better that way.”, Ana corrected the English woman, before she headed into the changing room where you were standing all by yourself. The party was heading somewhere else already.

You heard her last words loud and clear: ”No, it wasn’t, you’ve chosen the cowardly way after almost four years of being together. You acted like that time meant nothing to you.”

Finally, you got the chance to tell her how devasted you were about her sudden move to Madrid.

“That’s not true. It wouldn’t have worked out long distance and you know that.”, the Swiss player disagreed.

“No, I don’t know that actually, because we never tried it!”, you protested.

“Yeah, sure. You were pouting because I left the team.”, Ana rolled her eyes annoyed at you.

Her behaviour only fed the anger you felt inside.

“Yes, because you told me those transfer news a day before you left for the capitol.”

“Because I knew you’d be pouting.”, she shot back, almost stumbling over the empty champagne bottles which were left on the ground.  

This moment felt almost like a symbol of your failed relationship as it started golden, perfect even, with your first ever champions league win during the covid period, and the following wins, which abruptly ended in shattered hopes and dreams.

You tore your gaze away from the champagne bottles and looked straight at Ana.

“Oh.“, you said, your jaw set. “Sorry that you meant something to me. What a fool I was. Hope you’re happy now.“

Anas face changed from a slight moment to confusion to immediate annoyance: “Oh my god, you can be so damn dramatic!“

“Why are you even here? You ruined a perfect final with your presence.“, you spat back.

Anas eyes sparkled with furiousness: “Oh I’m sorry. Sorry that my friends are still here and that this team still means something to me!“

You were taking aback by how loud her voice had gotten but you kept glaring at her: “Fine. Go and celebrate with them. But leave me alone!“

All of a sudden, you felt Anas weight on you as she pinned you against the wall of the changing room. You had to suppress a surprised shriek.

Ana tilted her head, her lips curved in the smallest hint of a smirk: “Or what?“

“Get your hands off of me!“, you said through gritted teeth.

“Make me.“, your ex-girlfriend challenged you.

In a heartbeat you leaned forward, pressing your lips onto Anas. Just when she started to return the kiss, you bit down hard on her lower lip.

She pulled back: “Hey!“

“Can I go now?“, you asked impatiently.

“No.“

You locked eyes with her again. Your voice was pure ice when you replied. “I hate you so much…“

Anas hand found its way into your ponytail, pulling on it roughly.

You hissed.

“Say that again.“, Ana ordered.

“What? I hate that I still love you…“

Anas grip on your hair loosened. “I know you do.“

“What about you?“, you asked. You hated that your voice still sounded so hopeful when you only wanted to despise the woman in front of you.

Your ex ignored your question deliberately. “You need to shut up now.“

“Go on.“

“I’ll.“

And suddenly, her lips were on yours again. Her body pressed so hard against your own that you could feel her heat on your skin. You kissed back with hunger while Ana shoved her thigh between your legs. Biting back a moan, you began to move against her.

Anas hands, in the meantime, had slipped under your jersey, exploring your skin with the lightest touch.

You knew you should not but you could not stop yourself. It was as if your body had taken control, taking what it had craved for so long.

Ana was in the motion of finally pulling your jersey over your head and your body tingled with excitement, when the door to the changing room was opened.

“Girls, we’re going to party!“, Keiras voice announced, before stopping herself. “Oh, seems like you already started.“

“Come back later.”, the Swiss woman told the midfielder in a casual tone as if the redhead couldn’t see the messy state, you two were in.

“See you girls.”, she muttered and closed the door again much to your own relief.

“Oh my god, that was embarrassing.”, you mumbled against the older player’s chest.

“Whatever. As if she cares.”, Ana shrugged.

“Right, Laura will distract her from what she just saw.”, you smirked while you thought about the happy couple.

“I’m sure.”, the blonde nodded.

“Thank god.”, you sighed, forever gratefully for the Austrian footballer.

“She came in at the worst time though. I was just getting into it.”, the older woman whispered into your ear, although you couldn’t see her face you could hear from her voice that she was smiling.

“Need a reminder where we stopped?”, you looked up to her, eyes sparkling.

“No. Come here.”, Ana shook her head, before continuing what she started, her touches even hungrier than before.

In between you put your hand on her body middle to stop her, asking the one question which was burning hot on your tongue:” Did you miss me in Madrid?”

“Of course. Every day.”, the Swiss player answered truthfully.

 “When why didn’t you say everything? You were multiple times in Barcelona.”, you pressed on.

“You know why.”, she responded quietly, while tucking in a loose string of the hair behind your ear.

“Because it would have made it worse.”, you replied.

“But it was worth to wait.”, Ana said winking, alluding to the fun you had only minutes earlier.

“You’re an idiot, you know that, right?”, you laughed at her playful mood.

“Maybe I’m.”, she admitted seriously.

“To be fair so am I.”, you confessed, remembering how the blonde was till able to make your legs go weak.

“Looks like we both are.”, the Swiss woman smiled sadly. There was a melancholy air surrounding your ex-lover and you which couldn’t be waved off.

“Yes, seems like it.”, you agreed.

“So.. want to continue making out or..?”, Ana quickly distracted you from the thoughts which tinted everything sepia coloured like it was a moment from the past, but actually everything what happened was in the present.

“No, let’s stop talking and continue kissing.”, you decided, while turning your words into actions. She gladly obliged to your decision.

In the morning you awoke to Alexia’s cheerful voice, of course your captain was already up:” Y/n, wake up, we got to go!”

Your heart sank when you turned your head to Ana whose eyes were still closed, her arms wrapped around you:” Ana? I’ve to leave.”

“Okay, Barca needs you, I understand that.”, she responded, although the older woman hasn’t let you go yet.

The light of the sun fell through the curtain and gave everything it touched a warm glow including her.

“You can sleep a little longer.”, you offered her heavy-hearted.

“No.“, Ana said. Her voice was still a little hoarse from the sleep but she sounded determined.

“No?“, you echoed.

Ana pulled you closer, whispering into your ear: “I’ll think that I only dreamed this.“

“But it was real.“, you replied, studying her face thoroughly.

With a sigh, she finally let go of you. “Visit me in Madrid.“

A slight smile tugged on your lips as you crawled out of bed: “I’ll. See you there.“

Ana watched you while you got dressed: “Hopefully soon.“

“Promise.“, you said before you grabbed your bag and were out the door.

You could feel her gaze linger on your back as you left.

Alexia was already waiting for you. You were unable to interpret the look on her face but she was eyeing you cautiously as though she was searching for a hint.

When you approached her, she only let out a breath: “You girls.“

You rolled your eyes: “Don’t say anything, Alexia.“

Your captain remained unimpressed by that. Instead, she shrugged with a smirk: “I have to.“

“Fine but quick.“, you gave in. All you wanted to do was go home to Barcelona and sort your thoughts.

Alexias smile grew wider: “You’re the same kind of idiots.“

“Rude.“, you said, more amused than offended.

“It’s true.“

“Maybe a bit… She asked me to visit her in Madrid.“, you admitted quietly.

Your teammate nodded slowly, seemingly unsurprised: “She means it. You two miss each other.“

“I hate that I love her…“

“You can hate it all you want but you need her.“, Alexia replied calmly.

“You’re right.“

You had to finally admit it, your captain knew you better than anyone else on the team. Maybe she was right. Maybe all the hatred and pain you had felt had been unnecessary. Maybe there was an easy solution to this ache you felt in your chest.

That was how you found yourself in Madrid on your next free day. Your heart thumped against your chest as you waited on Anas door step.

Finally, the door opened and her face appeared in the gap.

“Hi.“, you said softly.

A smile of pleasant surprise appeared on Anas lips. “Hi. Come in.“

#ana maria crnogorcevic imagine #ana maria crnogorcevic x reader #ana maria crnogorcevic #woso x reader #woso imagine #woso fanfics #woso #woso community #woso one shot #woso oneshot #barca femeni #keira walsh #alexia putellas #woso smut #atletico madrid femenino

[russo-woso]

So high school || Leah Williamson

warning smut 18+, fingering, semi-public setting?

Based on this request here. Thank you for the idea :)

You and Leah had been dating for just over seven months and to say it had been the best time of your life was the biggest understatement of the century.

With the stress of your degree, constantly writing new songs for your album and dealing with the responsibility of adult life, it was Leah who brought back the fun in your life.

To the current day, you've always, and always will, say that your relationship with Leah was a high school relationship.

It was as if every time you looked at her you felt, well there's no better way to describe it other than just high school.

The day you met Leah at an event, was the day that changed your life forever.

Leah, being the confident captain she was, asked you on a date before even saying hello.

Wanting to take a change from your normal over-thinking self, you agreed.

When you said yes, you thought you'd go out for dinner with her, get bored of her and never see her again.

What you didn't expect was to end up seeing her again the following night and then again and again.

Leah made you forget about the stress in life, instead, making you realise the fun and adventures in the world.

You went from wearing a frown to wearing a smile every second of the day.

You were so happy with living like you were back in high school to the fact you purposely went out of your way to make it as fun as possible.

I wanna find you in a crowd just to hide from you

Leah had just played her first match in nine months against Reading and had managed to bag an assist, which made your heart swell with pride.

To make the match even more memorable for you and leah, you'd purchased a cardboard cut out of Leah's face.

After the final whistle blew, Leah was the first one you searched for throughout the crowd of players on the pitch.

When you clocked her, you noticed the confused look on her face as she searched the crowd for you.

As soon as you took the mask off, a smile appeared on her face as climbed over the railing to get to you.

You enveloped her in a bone crushing hug before grabbing the back of her neck, pressing your lips on hers.

"I'm so proud of you, Le." You whispered repeatedly in her ear.

"It's all because of you, baby. I couldn't have done it if it wasn't for you."

and I'm high from smoking your jokes all damn night

"I had to do this interview with the little girl I was on about and she asked if I had a joke and only one came to my head. Why was cinderella bad at football?" Because she ran away from the ball." Leah told you over FaceTime and you let out a small giggle, finding the joke genuinely funny. "I love your laugh."

"You make me laugh and you like it. Good combo, that is."

"We are a good combo, aren't we?" Leah asked and you agreed, a small laugh escaping past your lips.

"Tell me more jokes." You suggested and Leah agreed, telling you every joke she knew.

Leah didn't care how many jokes she told that night, the jokes made you laugh and that's all that mattered.

I'm watching American pie with you on a Saturday night, your friends are around so be quiet, I'm trying to stifle my sighs

It was Leah's turn to host team bonding but messing up the dates for your movie night with her, meant Leah had you knock on her door with a confused look on your face.

“What’s with all the cars? Throwing a party without me?” You joked as Leah stood there with an even more confused expression.

“Baby, what are you doing here? Not that I don’t want you here, it’s just I thought our movie night was tomorrow.” Leah pointed out, quickly pulling you in for a hug and kiss.

“Oh, I thought it was tonight. Maybe I got the days wrong. Sorry.”

“Don’t say sorry, love. It was me who got the days wrong. I remember talking about it being tonight. I’ve got team bonding tonight. We’re just about to find a movie to watch. Come, it’ll be fun, and it means I get cuddles. The team love you anyway.” Leah got excited and guided you inside. “Guess who decided to surprise us.” Leah announced to the whole Arsenal squad.

“Guess who got her days mixed up.” You teased Leah whose cheeks turned a red colour.

The girls all said hello to you as you took a seat next to Leah at the back corner of the living room.

After about half an hour of arguing over what movie you were going to watch, you all agreed on American Pie, some of the girls not watching it before, and some of them loving the film.

At the beginning of the film, Leah rested her hand on your lower thigh but as the film continued, Leah’s hand got higher and higher.

“Leah, stop it.” You warned, moving her hand lower down.

“You can be quiet, can’t you?” Leah murmured against your neck. “They won’t see or hear. Look at them all, they’re too busy watching the film.”

Leah’s fingers slide down into your underwear, her fingers teasingly circling your clit.

“Le, that feels so good.” You whisper into her neck.

You looked up to double check that nobody was watching and luckily, no one was.

Leah then dips her fingers into your pussy, making you let out a muffled moan into her neck.

It was only quiet because you stopped yourself but you made sure to not move your head from Leah’s neck.

“Faster, le. Please.” You muttered, her slow pace torturing you.

Leah listened, speeding up her movements.

“Fuck.” You whispered, a sigh leaving your mouth.

As your orgasm approached, your moans and sighs began to get pushed so Leah came up with another plan.

“Kiss me, baby.” Leah muttered, your lips colliding as she swallowed your moans.

Leah started curling her fingers as they entered you, bringing you closer and closer to your high.

“‘m gonna cum. Please don’t stop, le.” You begged, breaking the kiss before Leah brought you in for another.

After swallowing all your orgasmic moans, leah pulled away, grinning at you.

You caught your breath before showing an identical one back.

Once more, you looked around the room to see that everyone was oblivious to the fact Leah had just given you an orgasm.

“We should do that again sometime.” Leah suggested and you nodded.

Are you gonna marry, kiss, or kill me?, It's just a game, but really

Leah had been sat down to do a TikTok for the England TikTok page.

The media team explained that she was going to do a few filters, not a lot, but enough for the fans to be content.

One of the filters happened to be kill, kiss, marry.

Leah smiled to herself, knowing that she hadn’t played the game since she was in high school.

Pressing the record button, the filter started and she was given three celebrities.

Taylor Swift, Britney Spears and Y/N Y/L/N.

“This is easy this is.” Leah laughed, not even having to think about her options.

You and Leah and announced your relationship quite early on.

Well, you hadn’t officially announced it.

When you started attending Arsenal matches with Leah, and Leah started attending your shows, fans assumed you were either friends or there was possibly something between you both.

It wasn’t until you won a Grammy for best album, that Leah was so proud, she planted a kiss on your lips before you went up to collect it.

Since then, the fans had guessed you were a couple.

“I’m gonna go, kill, Britney Spears. Kiss, Taylor Swift. Marry, Y/N.” Leah said, looking past the camera to see Kiera laughing.

“She might as well be married to Y/N. So loved up them two are.” Kiera joked and they both laughed.

Get my car door, isn't that sweet? Then pull me to the backseat

“Thank you for tonight, baby. I really needed a break.” You said to Leah as you walked out the restaurant.

With all the songwriting and studying for your final exam, Leah thought it would be nice to take you out for dinner.

Due to the popularity you both had, it was hard to find a place to go when people would constantly swarm you, however, one restaurant quite close to Leah’s house, had a separate room that was used for private events but they allowed you to use it.

“You deserve a break, love. You’ve been working so hard on your songs and your exams. I think I should take your mind off it all.” Leah sent you a playful smirk as she opened the back seat car door.

Leah helped you onto the back seats before climbing over you.

Within seconds, Leah’s lips were on yours and you were both scrambling to take your clothes off.

Breaking the kiss, Leah’s lips travelled down your jaw and into your neck, soothing sensitive hickeys from the night before.

“Fuck, I can’t believe you’re mine.” Leah told you, pressing kisses to your neck.

“I’m all yours, le. No one ever had me, not like you.”

You know how to ball, I know Aristotle

“I don’t understand this. I mean I do, but then I try the equation and sometimes it works and sometimes it doesn’t.” You explain to Leah who rubbed your back comfortingly.

“You’ll do it, baby. Stop stressing. Come on, talk me through it and I’ll try see where you’re going wrong.” Leah suggested, taking a seat next to you.

“Le, you’re kidding. You know how to ball, I know Aristotle. Not the other way round. I mean you’re clever, baby, but I think you’ll freak when you see the equation.” You slightly giggled at Leah’s confidence, but she had that cocky look on her face so you allowed her to look at it.

“Okay, maybe you’re right.” Leah admitted once you turned the textbook to her, a full page on the equation. “I’ll stick to football.”

“Good choice, baby.”

Touch me while your bros play Grand Theft Auto

Leah was sat playing FIFA with Georgia, Kiera and Lucy whilst you were laid on the bed, next to Leah.

They had been playing all evening and now into the night, which annoyed you, because Leah had said you’d be doing something else.

“Le, how long until it’s finished?” You questioned, getting impatient.

It didn’t help that Leah had mentioned it multiple times throughout the day so it had been on your mind all day.

“Not long, love. I promise — Kiera, defend. We’re going more defensive.” Leah says, talking to Kiera through her mic, before pressing button after button on the remote.

“Le, please hurry up.” You whined, impatiently, as Leah looked at you with a saddened look.

“Baby, I promise, as soon as it’s finished. Five minutes left.” Leah told you, but you wanted her now, not in five minutes.

You moved from your original place to straddle Leah’s lap.

Leah’s eyes grew at your plan and although you thought she would continue the game, she pulled her headset off, muting herself before pulling you down into a kiss.

You could faintly hear Kiera, G, and Lucy asking where she’d gone, but you were so focused on Leah and what she was going to do, that you couldn’t hear them.

The kiss turned desperate and before long, the both of you were desperately ripping each other’s clothes off.

Leah connected her mouth to your hardened nipple, swirling her tongue around it.

Your hips bucked at the feeling, as you entangled your hand in Leah’s hair.

“Feels good.” You mumbled in pleasure before Leah moved onto your other one.

As Leah continued to suck hickeys on your body, her fingers made their way down to your pussy, gently circling your clit.

“Fuck, Le.” You breathed out, the pleasure you’d been waiting all day for, finally feeling evident.

“All mine.” Leah mumbled into your neck, her tongue moving over a fresh mark that she’d left.

“All yours.” You repeated as Leah’s finger made their way inside you.

“My girl. Only I get to touch you like this. No one else.” Leah stated, her fingers thrusting in and out of you.

“I’m close, Leah. Fuck, you’re gonna make me cum.”

“Cum for me, love. Cum on my fingers.” Leah whispered in your ear as you clenched around her fingers, a moan leaving your lips along with a chant of Leah’s name.

“I love you so much.” You told Leah after you’d calmed down.

“I love you too.”

“I feel like I’m in high school after that.” You laughed and Leah agreed as you both looked at the TV to find Kiera, Lucy and Georgia all still playing fifa. “I feel so… high school every time I look at you.”

#woso #woso community #woso x reader #woso imagine #womens football #woso fanfics #woso smut #leah williamson #leah williamson x reader #leah williamson smut

[cameronspecial]

I was wondering if you could do dad drew based of this video https://www.instagram.com/reel/C6Z8HtbA6MA/?igsh=MXdsc2hwdzFxd2c3Ng== idk if you still take requests tho but I hope you do cause I love your dad drew series 🫶🏼🫶🏼💗💗

Baby Whisperer

Pairing: Dad!Drew Starkey x Reader

Warnings: Feel Inadequate As A Father

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 0.6K

A/N: I saw this reel before you requested it and it was so cute! Thank you for requesting it!

Masterlist

Sometimes it’s like babies speak a different language. This became even more clear to Drew when his baby girl began to speak. Drew remembers the first time he was able to understand Joy’s babble clearly. Her first word. Dada. However, since the milestone, not all words were coherent to the actor. 

Drew lies on the stomach on the floor in front of Joy. She sits upright with a pillow behind her to provide comfort. Her pudgy hands grip the blocks and she brings them to the box with different shape holes at the top. She plops the toy into the correct hole. “Yay,” Drew cheers, clapping in celebration. The unexcited reaction from the toddler tells the father it is time to move on from the activity. He sits up and brings her onto his lap. She stares up at him, wondering why he stopped their game. “Hmm, you are bored. Aren’t you?” he questions. “What do you want to do?” Silence falls over them. The look in her eyes shows the gears are turning in her mind. “Pack!” she exclaims with elation. Drew’s brows meet at a point, “Pack? What do you want to pack, Baby?” 

She repeats her words, “Pack!” “Do you want a backpack?” he tries. The confusion on her father’s face begins to frustrate her. “Pack. Pack,” she whines. Her tiny fist kneads at his shirt. 

The high-pitched cries of her daughter summons Y/N to the living room. “Hey, what’s wrong?” she inquires. Her footsteps carry her in front of her little family and she rests her hand at the bottom of her dad’s back. Her husband looks at her with matching distraught to their daughter. “She’s trying to tell me something and I can’t understand her.” Y/N nods, “Go on, Baby.” Joy calms her tears. “Pack.” Her voice is small, fearful her mother isn’t going to understand her. “Pack.” It takes the mother a second to process the information. “Ohhh, Snack Pack. You want pudding, Baby?” 

Relief flashes over the girl's face and she nods vigorously. “Pack! Pack!” Both parents look at each other with understanding. “Okay, Baby. Let’s go get you some pudding,” Drew announces, dancing his way into the kitchen with his baby girl in his arms. 

The couple gets their daughter settled with her snack. She sits in her high chair and her father is in front of her, spoon-feeding her the dessert. The silicone tip of the rounded utensil follows the cover of the baby’s bottom lip to scoop the excess pudding into her mouth. As she chews the food, Drew puts the spoon down and smooths back her growing hair. “It’s so cute how satisfied she is with the pudding.” Y/N smiles at them, “It is. I think it might be her new favourite snack. I mean, did you see how angry she was getting when we couldn’t understand her.” Drew frowns, “Not we. When I couldn’t understand her. You swooped in and were a baby translator.”

“What’s wrong, Drew?” 

“I’m her father. I’m supposed to be able to help her and I didn’t even know what she was saying. I failed her.” 

Pain pangs through her heart and she places her palm on top of his hand. “You didn’t fail her. You may not understand her verbal expressions yet, but I know you can read her non-verbal ones just like one of your scripts.”

“What do you mean?”

“I could hear you guys from the other room, Drew. You guys were playing with the blocks and then you randomly asked her if she was bored. She didn’t cry or express it verbally. I know you saw that she wasn’t excited anymore so you switched tracks. A father who failed their daughter wouldn’t have noticed her boredom.”

Her words don’t fall on unlistening ears and he flips his hands so they hold onto each other. He gives her a small smile, leaning in for a kiss. “Thank you. I think you might be a Drew Whisperer too.”

Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @wickedlovely121 @thepatriarchykeychain @drewsmusee @starkowswife @maybankslover @forstarkey @loving-and-dreaming @magicalyoura @rubixgsworld

#drew #daddy drew #drew starkey #drew starkey x reader #drew starkey fanfiction #drew starkey imagine #drew starkey fic #dad!drew #dad!drew starkey

[luv-sims]

I’m in love with you!

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚ ౨ৎ⋆ ˚｡⋆

you and jay had always despised each other- at least that’s what you thought until jay got a girlfriend, your true hidden feelings making its way to the surface- uh oh.. listen to this while reading <3

⊹ ࣪ ˖ park jongseong x fem reader ⊹ ࣪ ˖

warnings ; angst, heartbreak, skinship, kissing, proofread but if there’s any mistakes… oops!! (⸝⸝´꒳`⸝⸝)

(everyone!! pls lmk if u wanna be added to my perm taglist<33)

2.5k 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

you had known park jay for as long as you could remember, and you had hated him for nearly just as long. from the very first moment you laid eyes on him in kindergarten, he had been nothing but a thorn in your side. it all started when you had asked the young boy to be friends- instead of a yes, you got water spat on your face as he cackled at you- yes, cackled. you despised him. his teasing, his smirks, his constant attempts to one-up you in every single aspect of life—it all grated on your nerves, day after day.

the relationship between you and jay was well-known. your friends and family had long since accepted it as a fact of life. you couldn't bare to stand him, and he couldn't stand you. it’s as simple as that.

until it wasn't.

the first crack in your carefully constructed wall of hatred came when jay got a girlfriend. her name was minji, and she was everything you were not—soft-spoken, gentle, and sweet. she was always by his side, laughing at his jokes, holding his hand. it shouldn't have mattered to you at all. in fact, you should have been relieved. if he was busy with his girlfriend, maybe he would leave you alone for once in your years of living.

but it didn't feel like relief. it felt like something else entirely, something you knew was wrong, something sharp and painful that you couldn't quite place. you found yourself watching them more than you would care to admit, your eyes drawn to the way he looked at her, his eyes sparkling, the way he touched her. and with each passing day, the ache in your chest grew stronger, more insistent. more unbearable.

you really did try to ignore it, to push it away deep inside of you and pretend it didn't exist, but it was no use. the feelings you had harboured for so long, hidden beneath layers of anger, resentment, and pride were bubbling up to the surface. you were falling for him, and you were falling deep. it was the most terrifying thing you had ever experienced as a teenage girl.

so, you did the only reasonable thing you could think of, you avoided him. you stopped going to places where you knew he would be, you stopped engaging in the petty arguments that had once been a staple of your interactions and everyday life. you had distanced yourself as much as you possibly could, hoping that the feelings would fade away with time.

but jay noticed. of course he did. and he didn't like it one bit.

one evening after school, after yet another successful day of avoiding jay, you found yourself cornered in the hallway of your apartment building, which he knew the address of from a day where you were sick, and delivered you your missed homework and soup, which he claimed he was forced to deliver to you.

he had been waiting for you, his expression a mixture of confusion, a bit of sadness? and anger.

"what's your problem, y/n?" he demanded, his voice low and tense. "why have you been avoiding me, huh?"

you crossed your arms, shaking off the butterflies from talking to him for the first time in weeks, trying to keep your composure. "i haven't been avoiding you," you lied, your voice shaken and unsteady

"bullshit," he snapped. "you've been avoiding me for weeks. did i do something to piss you off more than usual? because if i did, ill fix it.”

you swallowed hard, your heart pounding in your chest. "it's nothing, don’t worry. just leave me alone, jay."

"no," he said, stepping closer. "i won't leave you alone until you tell me what's going on, y/n." he whispered.

his proximity made it hard to breathe, let alone think. the scent of his cologne, the intensity of his gaze—it was all way too much for you to bare. you could feel the walls you had so carefully built around your heart beginning to crumble.

"why do you care?" you shot back, your voice trembling anxiously. "you have minji now. go bother her for all i care!”

jay's eyes narrowed, his expression darkening with a frown. "this isn't about minji. this is about you and me. why are you avoiding me?"

"because i can't stand you! being around you!" you shouted angrily, the words bursting from you before you could stop them.

"why?" he demanded, his voice rising. "what did i do that's so bad you can't even be in the same room as me?"

you took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. but the emotions that have been building inside you the past few weeks were too strong, too overwhelming. you couldn't keep them bottled up any longer.

"because i’m in love with you, okay?" you yelled, tears streaming down your face. "i love you, and it hurts to see you with somebody that’s not me..”

for a moment, there was silence. jay stared at you, his eyes wide with shock. the world seemed to stand still, the only sound the pounding of your heart in your ears, as you cursed under your breathe shutting your eyes anxiously in panic.

"you… love me?" he said finally, his voice barely above a whisper.

you nodded, unable to speak. the confession had left you feeling raw and vulnerable, and you didn't know what to do next.

jay's expression hardened, and without another word, he turned and walked away, leaving you standing there, your heart shattered into a million pieces as you fell onto your knees and sobbed, you sobbed for your broken heart and for the loss of the relationship you had with jay- gone forever.

the next two weeks were a blur of constant pain and complete and utter embarrassment. jay ignored you completely, avoiding you at every turn. you threw yourself into your studies, trying to distract yourself from the aching heartbreak and void inside you. your friends noticed the change, but you couldn't bring yourself to explain. how could you tell them that the person you had hated for so long had become the one you loved? and even worse, broke your heart.

you saw jay and minji together more often than you would have liked. each time, it felt like a knife twisting in your heart. but you forced yourself to smile, to act like everything was fine. it was the only way you knew how to cope.

one day, while you were sitting in the campus courtyard, lost in your thoughts, someone sat down next to you. you looked up to see taehyun, one of your friends from class. his presence was a welcome distraction from the feelings inside you.

"hey," he said, patting your shoulder giving you a warm smile. "you look like you could use some company."

you smiled back, grateful for his kindness. "yeah, i guess i could."

taehyun was easy to talk to, he was kind and understanding, and before long, you found yourself laughing and joking with him. it was a relief to feel something other than pain for the first time in the last few weeks, even if it was only for a little while. he pulled you into a hug, after you had finally opened up about your situation and you let yourself relax in his embrace, closing your eyes and taking a deep breath, sniffling away your tears.

unbeknownst to you, jay was watching from a distance. he had come to the courtyard to clear his head from everything, from the confusion and the dull feeling in his heart, but the sight of you with taehyun stopped him in his tracks. the way you laughed, the way you hugged him—it should have made him happy to see you smiling again after breaking your heart. but instead, it filled him with a burning jealousy and sadness.

seeing you with taehyun brought everything into sharp focus. and it suddenly hit him- he realized that he had been a fool, pushing you away when he should have been holding you close. he couldn't deny it anymore longer—he was deeply in love with you. and he couldn't stand the thought of losing you to somebody else.

jay knew what he had to do- that evening, jay broke up with minji. it was one of the hardest things he had ever done, she was a kind and sweet girl, but he knew it was the right thing. minji deserved someone who could love her- and that wasn’t him. his heart had always belonged to you.

the next day, jay found you sitting alone in the library, studying and deep in focus. he approached anxiously and cautiously, his heart feeling like it was about to explode in his chest.

"can we talk please?" he asked, his voice quiet.

you looked up, surprise and shock flickering in your eyes before looking down again. "kinda busy- what do you want, jay?"

he took a deep breath, steeling himself. "i'm sorry. for everything, y/n. i never should have ignored you. i was in denial, i was scared and confused, but that's no excuse."

you stayed silent anxiously playing with your fingers, waiting for him to continue.

"i broke up with minji," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "because i realized something that took a while for me to realize but i’m here now- i realized that i'm in love with you."

your breath caught in your throat, your heart pounding in your chest. "you… you what?”

"i'm in love with you, y/n. i’m so in love with you" he repeated, his voice breaking as his eyes shined with sincerity. "i've been in love with you for a long time, but i was too stupid to see it. and when you told me how you felt, it scared the hell out of me. i didn't know how to handle it, so i pushed you away. but i can't do that anymore."

tears welled up in your eyes as you looked at him, your heart aching with a mixture of hope and fear. "do you really mean it?" you whispered.

jay nodded, his gaze unwavering. "i mean it. i love you. and if you'll give me a chance, i promise i'll do everything i can to make it up to you, please y/n.”

you searched his eyes, looking for any sign of deception. but all you saw was honesty, a raw vulnerability that took your breath away.

"i don't know if i can trust you," you said quietly, your voice trembling. "you hurt me, jay. a lot."

"i know," he said, his voice breaking as he cups your cheek, leaning his forehead against yours. "and i'm so, so sorry. but i'll spend the rest of my life proving to you that you can trust me. i promise."

for a long moment, you stayed silent, the weight of his words sinking in. and then, slowly, you nodded. "okay," you said, your voice barely above a whisper. "one chance, jay. but if you hurt me again, that's it. i'm done."

jay's face lit up with a mixture of relief and joy. he reached out, taking your hand in his, looking into your eyes for permission as you nodded with a soft grin.

jays lips feel soft against yours, you spent many nights wondering what it would be like to be like to kiss jay, and it’s even better than you could’ve imagined.

and for the first time, you allowed yourself to believe that maybe, just maybe, things could be different.

the weeks that followed were a whirlwind of emotions. jay was true to his word, doing everything in his power to prove himself to you. he showed up at your door with your favourite coffee order every morning, walked you to your classes with your hand in his, and spent every spare moment with you. he was attentive, kind, thoughtful, and for the first time, truly present.

your friends noticed the change in him too. they saw the way he looked at you, hearts in his eyes and the way he treated you with a newfound gentleness and adoration. it was clear to everyone that park jay was a changed man, and it was all because of you.

but there were still moments of where you were in denial, times when the past hurt you felt would come back, casting a shadow over your happiness. the moment came to you on a rainy afternoon, the weather complimenting your mood as you sat together in a quiet café. the rain pattered against the windows, creating a soothing backdrop to your conversation.

jay gave you a knowing look as he reached across the table, taking your hand in his.

"i love you," he said, his voice filled with emotion. "i know i've said it before, but i need you to know how much you mean to me. you're my everything, so get those thoughts out of your head, mmh?”

he said pulling you into a soft kiss across the table.

tears welled up in your eyes at his words. it was everything you had ever wanted to hear, but the fear still lingered, a dark cloud over your heart.

"i love you too," you whispered, your voice trembling. "but i'm scared, jay. i'm scared of getting hurt again- it was so bad.” you said as you closed your eyes with a trembling voice.

jay's grip on your hand tightened, his eyes shining with determination and love. "i know," he said. "and i will spend the rest of my life proving to you that you have nothing to fear. i will never hurt you again, i promise baby.”

time passed, and true to his word, jay continued to be the man you deserved. he was patient, understanding, and never once pressured you. he was there for you in ways he had never been before, and slowly but surely, the trust and reassurance began to appear.

one warm night, as you sat together on the same playground jay had rejected you on as kids, he pulled you into his arms, his lips brushing against your forehead.

"i can’t bare losing you," he whispered, his voice filled with emotion. "you're my everything."

you looked up at him, your heart overflowing with love. "you won't," you said, your voice steady and sure. "we're in this together, you can’t get rid of me that easily."

you both threw your heads back, laughing together as the moonlight shined down on you.

and as he held you close, you knew that no matter what pain he had caused you before- you knew that your love for each other was stronger than anything else.

@luv-sims

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[zepskies]

Every Second Counts - Part 1

Pairing: Russell Shaw x F. Reader

Summary: One date with your best friend’s brother leaves you wanting more, even though his questionable job and vagabond lifestyle make you want to guard your heart. When your brother falls into trouble, however, Russell is the first one you trust to help you find him. 

AN: Finally, here we are at Part 1! Remember that A Line and a Half functions as our prologue here.

Word Count: 5.7K

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only for some mature thoughts. Fluff, angst and hurt/comfort, drug use, mentions of drug addiction and alcoholism, skeevy men, and a tinge of spice.~

💜 Series Masterlist

Part 1: "Permission Granted"

“Are you absolutely sure?” you asked, with your hands on your hips. 

You wanted no miscommunication here, no read-between-the-lines mishaps, no subtext or nuance to bite you in the ass later. So here you stood in the middle of your best friend’s office, still at the Wyoming University campus after your last class.

Dory had to laugh at you. She pushed away from her desk and threw her hands up.

“Yes, for the love of God, you can grab a drink with my brother,” she said.

After brushing a lock of blonde hair behind her ear, she went to you and set her hands on your shoulders.

“You have my blessing,” she said. “All I ask is that you don’t scar me with any gushy details afterward.” 

Your face began to heat up in a blush. You crossed your arms.

“All right, no one said there was going to be any of that,” you replied. “It’s just a date. Barely a date, mind you.”

“A-huh,” Dory said with a sneaking smile. “Out of curiosity, what was it about him that hooked you? You’ve been dodging Chris’s valiant attempts for like a month now.”

Chris was a French and Spanish professor. His office was on the same floor as yours, so you two occasionally crossed paths whenever you ventured into the teacher’s lounge.

He usually caught you in the morning while you were grabbing your free coffee fix at the Keurig. He’d chat you up about his classes and his dog and his new boat, and all the while you’d struggle to get a word in edgewise. Despite that, he was good-looking and pleasant, for the most part. It was just…

“I don’t know. He’s not my type, I guess,” you shrugged. You kind of liked conversations where both people got to speak.

“And Russell is?” Dory said, in a teasing tone. You chewed the inside of your lip, fighting a smile.

“I don’t know,” you admitted. “Kind of want to find out though.”

“Okay, well, let me know what you find,” Dory said, more wryly. You caught a bit of melancholy when her gaze drifted off. Your brows furrowed in concern as you drew closer, setting a hand on her arm.

“What do you mean?” you asked.

She was hesitant, but she eventually answered you with a confession.

“You know, it’s been about twenty years since I’ve seen him,” she said. “We’ve had entire lives already. I see him now, and there’s some of the Russell I knew when we were kids, but…there’s just a lot I don’t know about him, who he’s become.”

You could understand that. You squeezed her arm in sympathy.

“Well, he really seems to want to know you now,” you said. You remembered all the questions he asked you when he helped you carry your files back to your office after lunch today—most of them about Dory, about her career, your friendship, and ultimately, if she was happy.

“What happened to you guys?” you asked. “Why are you all so distant? Colter included.”

Dory’s face tightened. “It’s a long story. I’ve told you some of it. But basically, after our dad died, nothing was ever the same again.”

You dimmed at that. You knew their mother still lived in the cabin they grew up in, but Dory had never quite been able to tell you what happened to their dad. You’d never pushed the subject. You knew better than anyone what kind of pain that was. 

“I just wish we’d been able to stay with each other. Me and my brothers, at least,” Dory said. But she adopted a smile for you, before she returned to her desk.

“Okay. Go on your non-date at your favorite bar with Russell. I’ll be here, grading papers until Judgment Day,” she said, with a small laugh that felt like a coverup for thoughts she no longer wanted to think about.

You let her do it. You grabbed your purse and work bag off the spare chair in front of her desk.

“So you’re sure,” you wanted to confirm. “One last chance for me to tell him I came down with food poisoning.”

Dory collected her stack of midterm papers and gave you a cheeky look that said, class dismissed. Then she clicked her red pen and pointedly looked down at the first batch of papers to read through.

You smiled. Okay, you thought, giving her a little wave goodbye when you turned to leave. You had just a couple of hours to drive home and get ready to meet Russell.

“Goodnight,” you called.

“Goodniiight,” Dory replied.

You heard the smirk in her voice without even having to look back.

After fighting through rush hour traffic, you were exhausted when you got home from work. Your tentative excitement and nerves about tonight gave you some new energy though, even if you thought those nerves were silly to have.

Barely a date, you reminded yourself, as you unlocked the door to your house. Barely a date, barely a date.

The Ring Camera beside the door chimed when you entered the house, signaling your arrival. You had to wrinkle your nose at the dank-ass smell that greeted you.

Frowning in annoyance, you dropped your stuff on the kitchen table for now and shucked off your heels. You made a beeline down the hall, to the bedroom that lied across from yours. You pushed it open without knocking. There you caught your older brother, Charlie, snoozing in his bed with the covers half pooling on the floor.

His room was a mess, as usual. Your gaze locked on the evidence of half a blunt on his nightstand and two smoked roaches beside it. You were glad it wasn’t remnants of white lines of powder, like times before, but there was also a large bottle of whiskey. It was almost empty, and hanging loosely from his hand.

He managed to raise his head a bit when you came in.

“Hey,” he said, blinking bleary eyes. He cleared his throat and tried to sit up.

You shook your head and picked around piles of dirty clothes and a couple of used paper plates on the floor. You swiftly grabbed the bottle from his hand and slammed it on the nightstand.

“You promised me, Charlie,” you snapped. “You promised me for the hundredth time that you’d quit all this shit. Where even were you last night? You weren’t home when I left for work this morning.”

He sighed, frowning at how loud you were, and sat up in bed. He swung his legs over the side and held his swimming head in his hands, resting his elbows on his knees. He ran a hand through his hair. It was nearly black, like Dad’s had been, but he’d inherited Mom’s lighter eyes.

“I got invited to a party,” he said. “I’m sorry, I know. This is the last time.”

You expelled a frustrated breath and shook your head.

“You’re a grown fucking man, Charlie! Do you really need me to give you the just say no speech?” you said. 

“Look, I’m sorry. I don’t know how many times I can say it,” he said. He shut his eyes tight, probably trying to fend off a headache. 

Good, you thought. Let that be a reminder of how bad he’d screwed up again. 

“And while we’re at it, what about your half of the bills? You’re a week late,” you said, testily crossing your arms.

“Yeah, I’m a little behind,” he said. Once again, he cleared his throat past a wad of phlegm. He was still a bit crossfaded too, you could tell. “You know they cut my hours to part-time at the museum. I’ve, uh, I’ve been looking into getting another job—”

“I already paid the phone bill. And the internet, the water bill, the electricity,” you said. “The house may be paid off, but the least you can do is pay your half of living here.”

The longer you stared at him, seeing the guilt hidden behind drunken eyes, you realized he wasn’t just late on his half of the bills.

“How much?” you asked.

He frowned up at you. “What?”

“How much do you owe?” you said. Your voice was as cutting as your gaze. Charlie lowered his.  

“It’s okay, don’t worry—”

“How much,” you pressed.

He looked up at you again, this time with pursed lips. After a beat, he sighed and gave in.

“About two grand,” he admitted.

You raised your eyes heavenward, muttering a curse. Your hands went to your temples as you had to pace the room. You were angry and exasperated in equal measure.

“Who the fuck do you owe two grand?!” you asked.

Charlie shook his head. “It’s better that I don’t tell you that.”

You paused. As you looked down at him, your anger dissolved into sadness, like it always did.

“If Mom and Dad could see you now, they wouldn’t recognize you,” you said.

Charlie fought not to react to that, his brows furrowing. Instead, he just looked down, unable to answer you.

“Charlie, you need help. I can’t keep doing this with you,” you said. Your shaky breath gave way to the burn of tears.  

His red-rimmed eyes became glassy as well.

“I’m sorry,” was all he said.

He was always sorry. And you always had to be the one to nurse him back to health, pick up the pieces, pay the bills. You were exhausted. The bone-deep kind of tired that felt like gravity wasn't so much keeping you down, but pushing you.

“I’m going to ask for two things: do what you need to do to get paid, and clean up your shit. If you can’t accomplish that, then I’m taking you to rehab,” you said.

“You know I’ve tried that,” Charlie said, with a shrug of his shoulders. “Didn’t really work for me.”

“You left the program after two weeks!” you retorted.

“I did it on my own! I’ve been clean for months,” he argued.

“And what happened? You go to one party and all your good sense, all your training, mentally and physically—that all goes out the window?” you said. You had half a mind not to believe him.

“Yeah well, maybe just for one night, I wanted to relax without you harping on my back,” he said, glaring up at you. “Is that too much to fucking ask? For you to give me some goddamn slack?”

Your mouth fell open incredulously.  

“I’m on your back?” you said. “Okay. I’ll get off. Do whatever the hell you want, Charlie. I’m done.”

You left his room in an angry huff. You headed over to your room so you could take a shower and start getting ready to meet Russell at Howley’s. 

By the time you got to your bedroom, you heard the front door slam closed.

The truth was, you were no longer in a mood to have fun when you pulled up to Howley’s, but you needed to escape your house. Also, you weren’t someone who canceled on people last-minute, especially not on Dory’s own brother.

You found Russell waiting for you at the bar. He waved to you with a fifth of whiskey in hand and an easy grin. He’d saved you a seat beside him.

You found yourself smiling. Your mood began to lighten as you went over to him. He looked more or less the same, but this time the jacket and jeans combo was navy blue and dark wash, respectively. His hair was swept back, lightly gelled. You smelled the familiar, rich woodiness of his cologne when you drew near, along with a hint of spicy soap.

“Hey, there.” He greeted you with a warm hand on your back. He helped you into your seat.

“Hey, yourself,” you replied, and thanked him for the assist onto the tall stool. You’d opted for jeans and a blouse, paired with your favorite leather boots. It was less dressy than he’d seen you before, but that was “work mode.” This was a more casual affair, even if you’d spent at least twenty extra minutes on your makeup.

You were glad he picked a spot at the end of the bar though. It put some distance from the group of guys getting rowdy as they cheered at the football game playing on the TV.

“How was the rest of your day, Professor?” he asked. “And what’re you wanting to drink?”

You let out a long sigh and turned toward him, resting your elbow on the counter.

“Awesome. I’m going to need two shots of tequila and an order of something fried, and preferably covered with cheese, please,” you replied.

Russell’s grin deepened. “Okay, I’m thinking ‘awesome’ is code for something. But we can get started on that order of Forget Today’s Unfortunate Events.”

He flagged down the bartender with a raise of his hand, but he shot you a glance.

“Though I’m hoping it’s not all of today that you wanna forget,” he said.

Your lips threatened another smile, as the memory of your hand being swept up into his, and soft lips meeting the back of your hand filtered through your mind.

“Yeah, I don’t think that’s possible,” you said.

After about ten minutes of playfully debating the appetizer menu (you swore by the pretzel and beer cheese, but Russell had his eye on those spicy wings), he finally settled on ordering both.

“When in doubt, don’t go without,” he’d remarked.

You swept a pretty coil of hair over your shoulder and downed your tequila shots with a lime wedge. Meanwhile, Russell tried not to linger his eyes on the way your tongue swept over your finger to catch a drop of lime juice. Your nails were manicured, and the shade of the polish matched your lipstick.

Russell didn’t pretend to know the art and science of a woman’s wardrobe, but everything about you was thought out, it seemed, falling in line with what he’d expect from a (sexy as all hell) college professor. You’d also told him at lunch today that as of last year, you now had two doctorates: History and Ancient Studies.

Even with all that under your belt, you also seemed refreshingly down-to-earth, a lot like Dory in that sense. He could see why you two were friends.

“So, are you from here, or are you a transplant, like my sister?” he asked.

Dory hadn’t come to live in Wyoming until their aunt and uncle took her in, when she was about eight years old. Before last month, Russell hadn’t seen her since. It hurt his heart to think about, but he tried to focus on you.

You now seemed to be staring a bit listlessly at the glass of whiskey in his hands. He laid a hand on your arm and called your name.

“Hmm?” Your brows rose as you blinked to attention. “Oh! I’m sorry. Yes, I’ve lived here pretty much forever.”

“You okay?” Russell asked. “Tequila hit ya a little hard?”

You shook your head. “No, I’m sorry…”

You raised your hands up to your temples. You debated whether you wanted to open up about this, but…considering who Russell was, you thought he might just understand.

“Dory told me you’ve been trying to reconnect with your brother, right? Colter?” you said.

Russell nodded. He wasn’t sure how much Dory told you about their family business, but it dimmed his mood.

“Well, you could say I’ve got a brother issue of my own,” you said, laughing humorlessly. “You don’t have to talk about yours, but maybe you’ll understand… My brother is a veteran too. He was a Captain, air force pilot. He fought in Afghanistan, mainly.”

Russell processed that with a nod. “Yeah, I was there too. Special Ops.”

“Wow, okay. Then you know what it was like for him, coming back home,” you said. Your gaze fell to your empty shot glasses. “It was hard, after…”

“After?” he prompted.

You sighed. “Near the end, he lost half his unit in a raid, off of some flawed intel.”

Russell’s brows knitted together. Hmm. Grief, survivor’s guilt, feeling like you don’t belong.

He was starting to get a clearer picture of who your brother was. It struck at familiar chords inside himself that he wasn’t so comfortable with. He shifted in his seat, fingers flexing over his glass on the counter.

You didn’t notice, but you did push the shot glasses away from you.

“I helped him the best I could,” you said. “I got him a job at the museum I interned at when I was in undergrad. He’s there as a security guard, but it’s not really enough, you know? It’s like, nothing satisfies him. I just…I don’t think I know how to help him anymore.”

You couldn’t help it. Emotion bubbled in your throat, making it close up on you as tears stung in your eyes. Your lower lip wobbled, and you tried to turn your face away. Embarrassment coiled up in your chest and made your face hot.

You felt a hand cover yours on your thigh, squeezing warmly. You looked up and met Russell’s gaze, both sympathetic and understanding.

“I’m so sorry,” you said, trying to calm your shuddering breath. “This isn’t exactly first date material. I can’t believe I unloaded on you like that.”

“Hey, it’s okay,” he said. “Believe me, I get what your brother’s going through.”

He pushed the plate with the last piece of soft-baked pretzel over to you.

“You finish that if you want, then you go ahead and pick something else off the menu. I won’t even argue with you this time,” he promised with a grin.

It got you to laugh, at least, and he gave you a napkin for your tears.

God, get it together, you told yourself. You’re a damn mess.

“Thanks,” you said. You managed to smile as you blotted at one corner of your eye. You hoped you hadn’t just irreversibly smudged your mascara.

Russell surprised you by brushing his thumb against your other cheek, wiping a stray tear away. Your face began to warm with a blush.

“Again, I’m sorry for dumping on you. We had a fight right when I got home,” you admitted.

“What’s his name?” Russell asked.

“Charlie.”

“Older or younger than you?”

“Four years older,” you replied. “He enlisted a few years after he graduated high school.”

Russell flickered at a smile. Enlisted, huh?

Yet another thing he and Charlie had in common, except Russell hadn’t made it through high school in the classic sense.

“What do you think?” you asked.

“I think your brother sounds lost right now. I’ve known a lotta guys like him, unfortunately,” Russell admitted. “Walking back into civilian life, it ain’t easy. That I know my damn self. Just like I know a thing or two about being an older brother. He’s probably doing his best to keep it off your shoulders.”

You shook your head at that. Trying, maybe.

You weren’t even sure of that anymore. Still, it made you all the more curious about Russell and his family.

“I know I said I wouldn’t ask this, and you don’t have to answer. But did you and Colter have a falling out or something?” you asked.

Russell expelled a deep breath and took a sip from his glass. How was he supposed to navigate this minefield with you?

“You gotta understand that me, my brother, my sister, we didn’t grow up like a normal family,” he said.

“Yeah, I know,” you nodded. “Dory’s told me some of it. It sounded…rustic.”

He snorted. “Putting it mildly.”

He shook his head and drained the rest of his glass. 

“Well, my brother’s got an idea about me that isn’t true,” he said.

Your head tilted in curiosity. “Which is?”

His lips briefly raised in a wan smile. 

“We don’t gotta get into that one tonight. But uh, the truth is, I’ve tried reaching out to him several times now. He just doesn’t wanna hear from me,” said Russell.

You considered him for a moment. You laid a hand on his arm, covered by his jacket. 

“Don’t give up,” you said, with a sigh of your own. “Despite some things I said to him today, I know I can’t. My brother’s the only real family I have.”

Russell grew curious then. “What about your parents?”

You gave a weak smile.

“They passed away when we were young, but…we don’t have to get into that one tonight,” you said, borrowing his words. 

His expression fell. “Jesus. I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Thank you,” you accepted, twisting the napkin around your fingers.

An awkward lull of silence fell between you, until Russell nodded and blew out a breath.

“Well. Heavy, huh?”

You chuckled and rested your head against your hand.

“I know. Again, my fault,” you replied. 

“It’s okay, swee—. Mmm,” he cut himself off, shooting you a knowing glance.

“Were you about to sweetheart me?” you asked playfully, nudging his hand. “You know how I feel about that.”

“No, ma’am. Not at all,” Russell shook his head. His smile gave him away though. You laughed and grabbed his arm.

“Come on,” you said.

He allowed you to lead him out of his seat. He already had a tab open, so he’d settle up with the bar later. “Where we going?”

“You’re gonna lose to me at pool,” you said with a smirk.

Russell laughed and wrapped his arm around your waist instead.

“Oh, okay. I’m gonna give you a run for your money, though,” he promised.

And he was true to his word.

Russell Shaw turned out to be a more than worthy opponent. You studied the board as you changed the angle on your cue stick no less than five times.

“You gonna make a move, or we going to be here all night?” he said.

He was smiling as he leaned against his own cue on the other side of the board. His clever moves had left you in a difficult position to get your three remaining solid-colored balls into the pocket.

“You hush. I’m thinking,” you said, fighting your own smile.

“Careful, you’ve got steam coming out of your ears,” he teased.

You shot him a narrowed look for that. But then you smiled, as the answer came to you. You walked around to his side of the board and nudged him with your hip.

“Excuse me, sir,” you said to him over your shoulder.

Russell made way for you, but his eyes followed the way you bent over to line up your shot. Namely the curve of your ass in those tight jeans. He could see you knew exactly what you were doing, in more ways than one.

You shot your shot. The solid green ball leapt over his white-striped blue one and managed to sink into the pocket. You straightened up and gave him a triumphant little smirk.

He tried to temper his smile (and ignore the way his cock twitched).

“All right, go on, do your little victory lap," he said. "But remember, I let you go first.”

“Like that matters,” you quipped back.

You went back to the other side of the board to line up your next shot. Russell noticed a pair of drunk men ambling your way from the bar, but before he could make a subtle move to put himself in between, one of the men’s gazes slid down your form and gave into the base urge to let out a low whistle.

And he slapped you right on the ass.

You gasped, grabbing hold of the pool table. Then your shock melted into ire.

Russell was already heading toward you with an angry frown of his own, but even he had to stop short, when he watched you throw a punch that cracked the drunken man across the bridge of his nose.

Good form, Russell thought, when the guy reared back with a howl. His nose dripped blood when his hands came away from his face.

His buddy started to raise his hackles, but that was when Russell stepped to your side. He angled himself toward you and loosely gripped his pool cue by his hip, like it was an extension of his arm. He was fully prepared to use it like one.

“Fucking bitch!” said the one who was still dabbing his nose in vain. He glared at you, his eyes watering involuntarily, while his friend tried to keep him upright. You rolled your eyes.

"You're the one who's crying, bitch," you returned. Russell held in a snort. He cleared his throat and looked on at the pair of idiots.

“I’d have a little sit down if I were you,” Russell told them, with a smirk. “Let that be a lesson to ya. And if it don’t stick? Well. Whatever you start, I can damn well finish.”

His steely gaze reinforced the promise of his words. The other men were still angry, but even drunks had some sense of self-preservation. They ambled toward the back of the bar to find another pool table.

Russell focused his attention back on you, finding you looking down at your hand, rotating your wrist and flexing your fingers.

“Well, look at you, slugger,” he said. You met his smile with one of amusement.

“That’s just what I needed tonight. A broken hand,” you quipped.

“Aw, it doesn’t look as bad as all that. But can I see?” he asked. You allowed him to take your smaller hand in his. Your knuckles were red and tender to the touch when he gently pressed. You hissed in pain.

Damn, she really gave it to him, Russell thought.

“Sorry,” he said, but your hand felt fine, at least. More than fine. His gaze flicked up to yours as his amused grin deepened. “Good hit though.”

If he liked you before, he might’ve fallen half in love with you right there.

You laughed through the pain. “Yeah, my brother did teach me something. Shit.”

Russell led you back to the bar after you grabbed your purse. There he called to the bartender for some ice. The guy nodded; he’d seen the entire exchange and was sympathetic.

You knew this sort of thing was just par for the course at this kind of bar, but they had the best drinks. Charlie had to carry you out of here on your twenty-first birthday, drunk off your ass. Not to mention, he’d punched out two handsy dicks that night.

You recounted the story to Russell over a couple more drinks. Your conversation was lighter then, filled with laughter and a warm, companiable feeling. He was still rather evasive about his job, but you supposed he had to be, since it was government contract work.

Private security, mainly. Or so he'd said. This man made you infinitely curious, and a bit apprehensive, if you were honest.

And yet, at some point while you two shared and laughed and split a hot sandwich with another round of beers, you realized it.

I like this, you thought. And I like him.

However, the night had to come to an end sometime. Your third involuntary yawn told Russell it was time to call it.

"I'm okay," you tried.

"Nah, you've gotta work tomorrow," he said. He signaled to the bartender. "Let me go ahead and close out my tab."

“Oh, I can pay for half,” you said, reaching for your purse now hanging from your hip.

“You kidding me? Put that away,” he said, guiding your hand with your wallet aside.

Smiling, you accepted his generosity with a small thank you. Then, you let him take up your sore hand again, just to carefully press the half-melted bag of ice over it.

“Feelin’ better?” he asked.

Your smile became softer. “Yeah.”

You had no doubt that this man, tall as he was, with his broad shoulders and the controlled way he carried himself, could’ve laid both of those drunken assholes onto their asses. His intimidating gaze had promised as much.

But his hands were gentle for you.

“I was about to win that game, no contest!” you said, laughing as you and Russell headed out of the bar and into the parking lot.

“Hey, hey, I still had time to win it back,” he argued. “I only had three more balls to go. I could’ve sunk that with my eyes closed.”

“Three balls, huh?” you said slyly, and maybe, a little tipsy. “Might wanna get that looked at.”

Russell snorted. “You think you’re funny, huh?”

“Hey, you laughed!” you said, pointing at him.

He shook his head, despite his amusement. He slowed to a stop in front of his car.

“Where’d you park, huh?” he asked.

“Over there,” you said, pointing several parking spaces down. Your eyes were drawn to his car, however. “Wow. This is your car?”

Russell grinned and patted the top of his black Chevy.

“Aw, yeah. That’s my baby,” he said. “She’s a Chevelle, 1967.”

You didn’t know much about cars, but you could see this was a classic beauty. You passed a hand over its sleek paint job without touching, so you didn't get any fingerprints on it. Though you quirked a smile over your shoulder at him.

“She?” you intoned.

“That’s right. She,” he confirmed.

You smirked and crossed your arms. You paused in front of the passenger door, and when Russell drew in closer, you had to crane your neck up to meet his warm gaze.

“Now, if I go in for a kiss goodnight, are you gonna deck me?” he asked, with a teasing glint in his eyes.

You tilted your head, your own eyes dancing.

“I’m sure you’re brave enough to find out,” you said.

Russell decided he’d take that bet.

He leaned in slowly. He made a show of hesitating, raising a brow, as if waiting for a blow. You were tempted to laugh.

But then he let loose a true smile, and he bowed his head to press his lips against yours. Your eyes fell shut, and your hands moved to flatten against his chest. A firm fucking wall. Jesus.

He circled his arms around your waist, bringing you in closer. Your fingers wound up in his hair, while he tilted his head to kiss you again. You met him with the same fervor with each new kiss, and the feel of your body, soft and pliant under his hands, each little sweet sound that you made, it all drove him to delve in deeper.

You moaned into his mouth at the first warm swipe of his tongue against yours. He tasted like the burn of good whiskey.

You pressed yourself flush against him on instinct. He found no other recourse but to back you up against the side of his car. His hand tangled into your hair, gripping, then easing through the soft strands.

Russell veered away from your soft mouth after a while, just to burn a line of warm, wet kisses along your jaw, and down your neck with the added rasp of his beard.

His lips found the sensitive spot where your neck met your shoulder. He kissed and sucked at your skin, even grazing with his teeth. You gasped softly in his ear, shuddering against him. You ran your hands over his shoulders and down his strong back out of a need to feel him.

His hands were heavy along the curve of your waist then, squeezing your hips. It all felt incredibly right. And by right, you meant body tingling, warmth churning in your lower belly, and wetness growing between your legs, for sure dampening your panties.

You tugged him back by his hair, so you could reach him for another steamy kiss.

“I’m staying at a motel, if you wanna…” he said, between kisses.

You paused against his lips, parting from him softly.

“Or not," he added. "Just thought I’d mention.” 

You giggled, catching your breath, and then smoothing your hands down his chest. The faint throb of your core was telling you one thing, but the warning signals of your more cautious mind were telling you another. You thought for a moment…but then you sighed. 

“How long are you really in town?” you asked.

His wet lips tugged to one corner, ruefully. “A few more days, probably.”

“Right,” you said with a frown. “Russell, I like you. I actually, I really do. If you were sticking around for a while, it’d be one thing. But you’re my best friend’s brother, and I—”

“No, I get it. I can’t predict when I’m gonna be able to swing back into town, and you’ve gotta live your life,” he said, but not without care. He curled an errant strand of hair behind your ear. 

Your heart tugged, almost painfully.

“You’re a good guy, Russell Shaw,” you breathed. “Why can’t you be a good guy who’s staying?”

“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he said. Then he cringed, knowing how you felt about sweethearting men. “Ah, sorry—” 

You smiled and covered his mouth with your fingers. 

“It’s okay. You have permission to sweetheart me.” 

After blinking his surprise away, his face eased into a grin.

“Then I’ll wear that badge with honor,” he said. 

Your shoulders shook with laughter when you let your forehead fall against his chest.

Russell remained what he had been throughout the entire night: a gentleman, who accompanied you over to your car.

After another stolen kiss or two in front of your sedan, you parted ways from him with a bit of a heavy heart. You wondered if you made the right decision, or if you should’ve just gone for it for once, instead of second-guessing yourself like usual.

You did know this. The rumble of his Chevelle driving down the opposite road would be imprinted on your memory.

When you returned home, you realized that the house was empty, and in complete darkness.

Charlie still wasn’t home.

Worried, you flicked on the lights and began to text his cell, only to find a note for you on the kitchen counter.

And it worried you even more.

I’m sorry. I’m going to make it right. 

— C.

AN: 😬 Well then! lol We're diving straight into the drama and feels on this one. What did you think of her "barely a date" with Russell? 😂

And where do you think we're going next with Charlie?

Next Time:

Dory was sat next to you on the couch, rubbing your back with sympathy and concern in her own eyes.

“You should call the police,” she advised.

You’d thought of that, but if Charlie was doing something he wasn’t supposed to, then depending on what it was, you didn’t necessarily want him locked up in a cell. He wasn’t a bad person, he was just…lost. You wanted him to get help.

You set down the butterknife beside the jar and turned to her, after drying your eyes the best you could.

“Do you think your brother would be willing to come back to Wyoming?” you said. After a beat of hesitation, you specified:

“Colter, the tracker.”

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[thesilmarillionblog]

𓏲 𓂃 L o s i n g Y o u

Part: 8

Click here to read the first part.

Summary: Everything was good as a member of Payback and Soldier Boy's secret girlfriend until the team and your relationship with him began to fall apart due to a new member and her developing relationship with Ben right in front of your eyes.

Pairing: Soldier Boy / Reader

Warnings: heavy angst, hurt , language, PTSD, mention of drugs, mention of torture

Word Count: 4538

A/N: English is not my first language.

* This story is inspired by the song "Losing You" by Dream Evil.

You asked Ben again, “What did you do to those people?” while he continued to look at your furious and angered look.

He avoided watching the news and simply replied in a dry voice, “I didn't mean to hurt them. Everything happened so quickly.”

Despite your hopes that, after all this time, he would change a little, you came to the conclusion that his appearance was the only thing that had changed. He was the same guy who hurt everyone around him like they were just insects, never thinking twice about it. He remained the same merciless man who just cared about himself.

You were too ignorant to believe that it was Crimson Countess had drastically changed him, but this was simply another lie you told yourself in defense of Ben's behavior. It was just who he really was.

You talked softly while Butcher continued to watch TV, “How can you even stay the same after all the things that happened to you?”

“I killed the doctor who hurt and tortured you. You already knew; whatever I did for him, he deserved it,” he angrily said, gesturing to you as though he were doing you a favor and somehow trying to convince you.

“Should I feel like a graduate and thank you?” You questioned him bitterly, glaring at him. “You are the reason I spent decades being imprisoned and subjected to torture in vain. You are the reason I am currently homeless and the state's number two foe. How come you're still so blind and self-centered?”

Ben grumbled, “Calm down, baby,” ignoring your inquiries as he roughly grabbed the remote control out of Butcher's hand and flicked through the channels. “We can talk about things at a later time. For now, take a moment to rest.”

Ben continued to stare at the TV and shifted on the couch in an attempt to make himself more comfortable, so you replied, “Don't call me 'baby.'”

“It looks like Tony Montana is going to bed alone tonight.” With a cunning grin, Butcher attempted to reclaim the remote control from Ben's grasp. “Also, don’t be dramatic and so upset, you have a place to stay, you’re not homeless.”

“Tony Montana—who the fuck is he?” Ben muttered, pushing Butcher's hands a little too hard while refusing to give up the remote control. “I’m in charge in here. What I watch, you'll watch too.”

“Hey, you remember our deal, don't you? I'm hoping you won't back down.”

You turned to Butcher and questioned, “What deal?” with a confused gaze on your face when he suddenly started speaking in a serious and mysterious tone.

Ben stepped in immediately and shot Butcher a quick glance, saying, “It's not so important.”

“All right, there's nothing to worry about. Your teammate just promised me that he would help me kill a cunt named Homelander.”

Ben kept shooting Butcher with a deadly look as he immediately spilled the beans.

“I'm not worried about anything,” you cut Butcher off abruptly, averting Ben's tough stare. “Whatever he's up to, he's alone in this. But tell me, what’s deal about.”

“Sweetheart, I don't need your help anyway. You simply stay at home and take care of things while you chill,” Ben said in an amused way, attempting to hide his tiny sense of hurt that came from your coldness.

He didn't intend to include anything that would distress you further, but he couldn't stop remembering the times you supported and fought alongside him. He would never ask you to get involved in the Homelander situation, though, since he knows you've already been through a lot of terrible things. He was also too proud to accept your assistance.

Turning to face you, Butcher added, “You don’t have to be so ruthless. He made the deal to get help from me to save you.”

Butcher believed that, given Homelander's strength, helping him would be beneficial and that it would be great if you would just soften and offer a helping hand. Butcher knew Soldier Boy would be happy to let you fight alongside him, as he was aware that he took your suit from Legend. You were once the strongest superwoman, after all, and he would have a better chance of finally killing Homelander.

Hughie, thankfully, returned to join you with a meal in his hands before you could ask Butcher any more questions. You were so hungry that you didn't even realize it until you smelled pizza. It was all about pleasure, yet even if you starved for decades, you wouldn't die.

Hughie smiled hesitantly and said, “Sorry, I didn't ask you before ordering, but I hope you're okay with pizza.” It's likely that he was the only decent person in the room. You wondered why this person was willing to work with a man like Butcher. He gave off an air of deception.

“Of course it's okay,” you said as soon as you smelled it. You then gave him a graditude look and said, “Thanks a lot.”

Ben quickly got up, tossed the remote control in Butcher's face, and grabbed the pizza from Hughie's hands as he sat next to you before you could move. Ben stepped closer, spreading his legs a little and making contact with your thighs, but you put some distance between you two right away. You didn’t understand why he was acting like that out of the blue, but you didn’t ask anything.

None of you spoke, even though you felt Ben's gaze briefly lingering on you. Although you were unsure of what Ben truly wanted from you, you were determined to learn from your past mistakes. Therefore, it was best to clarify it for him as well.

Upon seeing Noir's visual on TV, you exclaimed in shock, “Is Noir still working for Vought?”

That was the moment you understood. Earving never came to save you. If he just wanted to, you knew he could and would find you. You could understand why he might not have wanted to take the risk of going through the same things with you if he had a legitimate reason for not saving you. You had no right to be selfish. However, you were certain that you would behave differently if he were in your place. You therefore couldn't help but feel a little let down.

Ben angrily remarked, “Of course he does,” as he watched you devour the pizza. “He wouldn't even take his shit without the permission of Vought. Fucking traitor. He didn't even give a fuck about the things you went through all those years. I had no doubts that he was going to abuse your friendship. There was always something sneaky about him.”

You couldn’t left out a small hiss as Ben started to talk about loyalty.

“All right,” you replied, casting him a piercing glance. “I got used to being betrayed.”

He aggressively exclaimed, “Don't compare me with that son of a bitch,” and launched into a self-defense tirade. “I came to save you too as soon as I was free, and I looked for you everywhere.”

“How could I ever compare you with him while I know you are worse. And yes, Ben, you're quite considerate to have searched me in the Countess' home. Many thanks for it.”

“I payed a visit to her because I knew she was most probably the one tricked you. It was nothing else.”

“Whatever,” you said back harshly. “I don’t care anyways.”

Butcher interrupted you after making a brief phone call in the kitchen, saying, “Listen here, Bonnie and Clyde. Hughie and I need to get out and meet some buddies, but if you're not going to make trouble and if you don't want to fuck in peace all night, it's best if you don't stay at home. In every other case of emergency, you need to join us.”

You hurriedly swallowed the large slice of pizza and gasped, “We won't... I mean, we wouldn't,” to Butcher. Your cheeks flushed. “It's not like we're together or anything, so don't misinterpret and talk like this, please.”

Ben leaned back to the coach and said, “Well, I'm all in, baby,” pleased to see you flushed and in a panic. “Keep in mind that. Since I'm free, I didn't even fucking jerk off once. You can use me however you like,” he stated, stretching his legs and making an attempt to brush against you briefly while grinning genuinely and invitingly.

You grumbled, “I'm trying to enjoy my meal here,” ignoring the absolute filth that was flowing from his mouth.

“All right, that's OK.” Butcher urged you to complete your dinner, saying, “You can continue eating where we go. We must leave in five minutes.”

Ben growled, “Don't fucking order her around.”

“It's fine,” you stopped eating right away. “Where we're going to go?”

“We have to get some Temp-V from Hughie's friend. It appears that we will need to use it soon,” Butcher replied, glancing at Ben. “Unfortunately, you can't beat Homeland with just one guy.”

Ben did not even respond to Butcher's crap; he only rolled his eyes. He was aware that Homelander would be the easiest to take down. He was Soldier Boy, and someone of Butcher's age wouldn't fully get who he was.

You and Ben were seated in the back of Butcher's car, and Ben was covering the whole place almost as if he wanted you to lean into his body. He was always on the move, both his hands and his legs, and occasionally you would think he looked a bit bashful if you didn't know just how arrogant he really was. Somehow, you sensed the uncertainty, but you didn't look him up or ask him questions.

You couldn't help but feel confused and depressed as you gazed out of the car window at the enormous, gleaming structures. You no longer felt like you belonged in the world because so many years had passed in a tiny little cage. It seemed as though no one knew you, cared about you, or you had no place to stay. It's not your world, but rather other people's, that you see when you peek out the window.

You said, “Everything looks so different,” as a sense of melancholy took over you.

“Not at all,” Ben remarked in an arrogant tone, as if he had figured out everything in a single day. “I've learned many things; I will teach you all; don't worry.”

You challenged him, casting him a skeptical glance. “What do you know?”

“Well, I might teach you a thing or two because you're too eager to learn. For instance, GPS and the Internet were quite helpful in helping us learn about you and the place you were kept,” he added with pride as he smiled at you and waited for your reaction.

You whispered, “You're just making those words up,” unsure if he was trying to trick you.

“Those words are real words. I had said the same to that fuckface; believe me, sweetheart,” he continued, giving Hughie a harsh shoulder pat. “Hand over your damn android phone to me.”

Hughie murmured in distress, “Oh, God,” as Butcher nodded awkwardly and gave him an odd look. “Just don’t break it or something, please.”

Hughie handed his phone reluctantly to Ben, who took it with a swift move, and Ben used it like a pro, tapping the screen quickly. When he wrote down his name and yours on the screen called 'Google', your eyes widened open as you saw a ton of images and details about the two of you, Payback, and everything else.

Captivated by what Ben showed you, you muttered, “Everything about us is written down there.”

“See,” he declared with pride, chuckling at your bewildered response. “I told you I was very well-informed. The name of this one is Internet.”

You challenged him again, interested in learning more about this small device, which seemed to know a lot of things. The modern world is unquestionably something else, with easy access to knowledge at any time and about any subject matter.

“I am familiar with social media. If you don't want to be identified by your real identity, you can put up a fake profile and follow anybody you want. I made one for the two of us as well.” Ben responded, seeming proud of everything he had achieved with a cunning smile on his face.

You pretended to understand everything he said as you asked, “And what's your fake name?”

“It’s ‘soldierboyy/n69.' Pretty creative, isn't it?”

“Oh my gosh, Ben,” you said, pushing the phone and his hands in an annoyed tone as your face turned red. “Everyone will know that it is you. I shall be accused of having once again supported your actions if they find out the identity of your account. Why do you act so carelessly?”

“Everyone has those fake names,” Ben said, grimacing at how much you disapproved of what he had done. Nobody will find out because I'm not using it anyway."

He intended to show you that he never thought of himself apart from you and that he thought of you even while he was setting up the account, but all he managed was to distress and upset you once more. Observing your defensively crossed arms on your chest, he sighed and moved his strong arms to your seat in an attempt to get close to you.

“How are you so sure?” you asked as he handed over the phone to Hughie in a rude manner.

“Because that's the way the modern world works, sweetheart. Nothing and anyone are real when it comes to Internet.”

“Indeed,” Butcher said, glancing at the two of you through the mirror. “He is right; no one will find out. It's not really a big deal; trust me, if it were, I would have problems as well because of him.”

You cut it short, closing your eyes and lowering your head to the seat. “Okay,” you mumbled.

It was as though some odd numbness overcame your body, leaving you exhausted and unbalanced even after decades of sleep. It was most likely due to the quantity of sleep that your body became accustomed to, and it's also possible that you were experiencing a side effect from what you experienced in the lab. Nonetheless, it didn't concern you because you knew you still had your strength. You only needed to get a bit more rest. As you closed your eyes to give your body a break until you got there, you inhaled deeply.

You slowly opened your eyes, feeling Ben's gentle touch on your cheek, and heard him say, “You really turned into sleeping beauty, didn't you?” in a lighthearted manner.

“Have we arrived?” you muttered as you opened your eyes and noticed his intense gaze on you. The moment Butcher and Hughie slammed the car door, you immediately fully came to your senses.

Ben nodded, confused, not knowing how to react to your coldness as you gently moved his hands away from your face.

Ben and you had just followed Butcher and Hughie to the small, slightly desolate house. You looked around the room, and the other two women, who were glancing at you warily, exchanged glances. You could tell they were supes, just like you, from the whiff of Comp-V in their scents. You were a little nervous because you had no idea what their intentions were toward you. You had no friends or someone to rely on anymore, and you were a stranger to everything after all.

“Ladies, how are you doing here?” Butcher grabbed a glass of whiskey from the kitchen and inquired as he sat down right away on the closest couch.

“I can't believe you and you especially you Hughie,” the blonde remarked angrily. “You two really set them both free, and you forced me to take so much Temp-V; we're going to be caught. It's only a matter of time.”

“So you're the supe woman that bottom-faced guy pounding?” Ben aggressively exclaimed, pushing the short-haired man to the right while he snatched a cola from the refrigerator. “And the one who works for Vought when you're not getting off and doing other things.”

“Stop it, Ben,” you said in a warned tone as his abrupt aggression caused the air to thicken.

“Why don't we just sit down and have a nice chat?” Hughie looked at you anxiously, as if you wanted to soothe Ben before anything happened.

“Relax, sweetheart,” he said, flashing you a cunning grin when he spotted you approaching him, and you gave him a cold look while he sipped his coke in joy.

“Well, Annie, that it wasn't in vain. Soldier Boy and I struck very useful bargain, didn't we?” Butcher inquired, glancing back to Ben with a sly smile. “We're going to kill Homelander together.”

You felt uneasy, and your thoughts turned to the Homelander once again. Even if you didn't care about Ben at all, you couldn't help but feel concerned because you were both strangers to Vought and the outside world now that Ben had gotten into so much trouble. Not only did you not want to return to the lab, but you also didn't want Ben to go through the same painful experiences. Even though he had been vile to you, you didn't want him to suffer forever in Russia.

Annie replied, “You should have told me, Hughie,” casting a disappointed glare at her boyfriend. “You’re so acting strangely these days.”

Hughie insecurely responded, “I know, I know,” rubbing her cheeks. “And I’m really sorry for it. It won’t happen again.”

The man with short hair said, “You all know that they both are being searched by the government, right?”

Butcher shot back, “Of course we all fucking know that, Frenchie.”

Annie looked at you and said, “Well, I guess Y/N's situation is worse,” while you stood by Ben, watching him carefully to make sure he didn't suddenly lose his temper and start some serious drama. “Well, she's a known traitor after all.”

You immediately defended yourself by saying, “I'm not a traitor,” and you were enraged at her haughty demeanor. Despite her lack of knowledge, she was constantly talking about things she had no idea about. “Vought only spread lies and caused us pain in order to build up the next generation, which is your generation. They tortured me for years just because I wanted to quit.”

Annie's expression softened as she realized that Vought would do something like that and that she was having trouble as well in Seven. She then apologized to you by looking at you and sincerely saying, “I'm sorry to hear that.”

She went on, making an effort to get you to see how complicated the situation was, saying, “But you need to understand that no one will believe you. For all this time, you have been regarded as a spy for the entire world. The same remains for Soldier Boy.”

“What is your point?” Ben cut her off with a harsh voice.

Ben was becoming mad at those morons; they were just some stupid kids who liked to order other kids around, but he was a man, a true leader, the strongest supe to live, and they had no idea what him and you had been through or who had been in charge decades earlier. He was already becoming a little tense about that blonde's cunning ideas, so he realized he had to proceed with caution going forward. He had to watch out for you too, in order to keep you safe.

With defensive hands on her hips, Annie retorted, “The thing is, it's best if you don't see each other for a while. I can help you spend a week in various secure locations, separated.”

Ben abruptly tensed up, enraged that the blonde had already made plans in her cunning mind to keep him away from you. “No fucking way,” he said. He was certain that those fucked-brains would propose something so incredibly moronic.

Even if it made sense, you realized those new guys weren't to be trusted as they were strangers. It was true that you needed some alone time apart from Ben, but for the time being, it was preferable to ignore what you’re told.

“Everyone is talking about what happened in New York and Ohio,” Annie said furiously. “I’m just asking you two be hidden for a week. Everything’s already complicated in Vought and I have my own problems.”

“Look, sneaky woman,” Ben hissed, “I don’t give fuck about your problems or anything at all. If you ever suggest such thing, you won’t have a head to think such idiotic things anymore. I’m warning you.”

“Ben, you need to calm down,” you said. You scowled at the feeling that his chest was unusually heated compared to normal. 

Frenchie agreed, saying, “Y/N is right; there is no need to fight each other.” The supe woman next to him smiled and patted his shoulders.

Butcher responded, “Annie is right too, though,” as he examined the Temp-V carefully on his lap. “Too much attention has been paid to Soldier Boy during the past three days. We are also doomed if he is seen soon enough.”

“They could be right,” you acknowledged, nodding to Butcher, understanding that his points were reasonable. Since you and Ben were currently the state's number one and two foes, you also didn't want to get into any sort of trouble.

Ben cursed, “Fuck that,” and he gave Butcher a menacing stare. He got offended at the fact that you instantly agreed with them but not with him. “I didn't realize I had done business with so many jerks. If you're that afraid of what's ahead, I might accept your suggestion, but Y/N is staying with me.”

“Calm down, buddy. Why are you so obsessed?” Butcher questioned, putting the bag down from his lap.

When you realized Ben was about to start an argument without reason, you asked him, “Why are you being like this?” in an irritated tone.

“Are you saying that you're prepared to follow those fuckfaces' instructions?” While you could tell he was angry, he inquired quietly, “What's wrong with you?”

Ben set down the coke and paid no attention to Butcher's irritating remarks. Instead, his attention was drawn to you. The fact that you didn't trust him but did trust the new people you had met most disturbed him. It was not them who saved you, but it was him who considered your safety and future. Still, you were ready to follow what they had to say. You'd been away from each other for a long time, so there was no reason to spend another minute separately.

“I'm not saying anything, Ben. I just want you to quit being irrationally dissatisfied and to be reasonable.”

Butcher sighed as he watched you start to debate, but Annie grasped Hughie's arm and guided him to another room to have a conversation.

Ben stated, “I'm not getting angry for no reason,” while attempting to stay controlled.

Despite Ben was desperate to touch you, he restrained himself since he knew that you two needed to have discussed the situation before acting on it. How in the world was he supposed to talk to you properly after a week apart? “I'm just saying, we don't have to spend a week alone and separated,” Ben said with a low voice.

Your eyes wandered around everywhere except for him.

“I'm not sure, Ben,” you teased him, feeling hesitant about his response. “Maybe we should.”

“How can you be sure that those people won't imprison you to a metal box once more? Do you really want to go back to that lab? You're saying you have faith in them, but not in me?”

You angrily gasped, “Don't you ever talk to me about trust. I would never make the same mistake by trusting you again.”

He tried to calm himself down, saying, “I'm the only one who saved you,” but the heat inside his chest kept growing.

“Will you stop arguing?” Butcher got up and asked, watching Ben trap you against the kitchen table while grinning at Ben and sipping his whiskey. “She obviously wants to be by herself for a while. Would you please just accept her decision and let her to enjoy herself?”

Ben angrily remarked, “Mind your fucking own business; we are fucking having a conversation here.”

You stopped disputing with him and cast a puzzled glance at his chest as soon as you felt the warmth in his chest increasing once more.

Butcher said, “It's like you're forcing her for something she doesn't want to though. Don't be such a drama queen,” ignoring Frenchie's warnings. “She might just want to spend time alone in a nice place and fuck with some hot dudes, savor the time she missed all those years.”

Ben snarled, turning to face Butcher and ignoring you this time. “Watch your fucking language," he growled. “If you say one more word, I fucking swear I'll rip your heads off.”

Ben's chest began to glow suddenly before he could finish his sentence, and your eyes widened, sensing the anxiety and the heat coming from his body.

“Ben,” you whispered quietly, uneasy with his rage and the anguish on his face, as if he tried to maintain self-control.

With an expression of fright on his face, Frenchie and the supe woman next to him also retreated a step. “Calm down, buddy,” Butcher muttered. “Let's not cause another accident. You've already done enough damage, huh. ”

But Ben's chest continued to glow, alerting you. “Hey, what's wrong with you?” you asked as you walked up to him, stroking his arms and then his face and making him to look at you.

He snarled, “I can't hold it,” and shoved your hands away right away. “Stay away from me.”

Instead of following commands, you remained in the same spot and continued to massage his upper arms in an effort to soothe him though you got extremely anxious. Then, in the hopes of calming him down a little, you put your hands on his burning, hot chest. Even if there was smoke slightly arising from his body, your hands felt chilly.

You whispered, “It's okay,” feeling his temperature drop beneath your fingertips gradually.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿

A/N: Comments and reblogs are very appreciated! -`♡´-

Taglist: @mostlymarvelgirl @xmariakx @spnfamily-j2 @suspicious-stain-in-spain @atomicsoulcollecto @yvonneeeee @starryperson @mfnqueen1 @chaand-sitara @boywivlove @stilinskisthings @brynanna @delaynadee @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @yoyoanaria @n-o-p-e-never @ghostslillady @certifiedhaters @deans-spinster-witch @demodemo909 @stoneyggirl @cheynovak @libby99hb @moneyburner

Let me know if you want to be tagged for this series. -`♡´-

#the boys #soldier boy x reader #jensen ackles soldier boy #the boys series #soldier boy the boys #soldier boy #jensen ackles #the boys tv #the boys amazon #the boys season 3 #the boys soldier boy #the boys x reader #the boys season 4 #soldier boy fanfiction #soldier boy x you #soldier boy x y/n #soldier boy x female reader #jensen ackles fanfiction #jensen ackles x reader #jensen ackles fic #jensen ackles the boys #soldier boy fic

[hana-no-seiiki]

WHY DON’T YOU GIVE ME A SMILE? (ACT 2)

YANDERE! BATFAM x JINX (ARCANE/LEAGUE)-ESQUE! READER

[ ACT ONE HERE ]

cw/tw: mentally ill reader. schizophrenic reader. reader w/ abandonment issues. manipulative reader. crimes. arson.

summary: we dive deeper into Gotham's explosive personality and history with those that took the title of ‘boy wonder’

MORE ON YOUR ORIGINS

“They were right! You’re just a Jinx.”

“Everybody shut up! I need to think!”

“We weren’t . . . “

As much as you scared the crap out of Joker’s goons. Since they saw you grow up first hand. A lot of them tended to be overprotective over you.

I mean, they’re insane enough to follow Joker. What more you?

They see you as his successor. An heir of sorts.

Which is why Jason Todd felt like he had no choice but to either fix you or keep you locked up.

You don’t remember much of him. If you did you would hate him.

He was the one that essentially helped you pull the trigger on your family.

If you haven’t read my other posts about it, here’s the rundown.

Jason had a massive crush on reader when the two of em were kids. Prior to everything. Before he was adopted, before reader set their world ablaze, before shit hit the fan essentially.

He saw how neglected you felt. The rejection you faced from your peers for not being strong enough. For being small and weak.

Him and your sister were pretty popular amongst the kids but it only made the comparisons worse.

It was always how they were “twice the kids at [Y/N]’s age.”

And so he thought of a little gift. Just a little something to show the others how cool you really are.

He didn’t expect you to use it that way. And the worst part of it all, he wasn’t there to comfort you. I mean sure, dozens of people died that day. Many of which he was somewhat fond of. But he was sure they’d want him to comfort you. To say that it wasn’t your fault.

And despite all that, you only knew Jason as that one guy Joker went too far with.

“Hey, [N/N].”

The call of your name almost froze you on the spot. Their screams pushed forward from the back of your mind into the forefront. You didn’t think. Your hands just pulled the trigger of your machine gun on its own.

“Who the hell are you?” You grit your teeth. You’ve heard of this Red Hood going around and ruining your adoptive father’s plans lately.

And what’s worse? The man kept forcing you to stay away. Plying you with all sorts of prostitutes and all the money you could ever need or want.

Despite your hostile disposition, the man in question doesn’t return it. “I’m sorry. This was all my fault. I shouldn’t have left you behind.”

“Leave.” You lowered your machine gun. A sudden wave of drowsiness overwhelmed you. A sense of calm. Weakness. Everything was screaming at you to end the source. But if he kept dodging your bullets them perhaps diplomacy would work.

You breathed out. [Y/N]. That name, that identity — though it fell down a well and was long dead it still had it uses.

Softened voice, doe eyes, and posture loose. If you had no other weapon they you always had your vulnerability.

“You need to leave, Joker is coming soon and I can’t help you if you’re caught.”

“Who was that, Jinx?” Joker asked.

You turned around. Your eyes meeting his chest and then his face, where that wide, freakish grin was stuck unto him.

“Old man, I think you mean what.” The toxic pink glint flashed through your eyes as you once again buried your old self along with the rest of the corpses that have met their demise by your hand.

“Meet Fishbones.”

BACK TO YOUR RIVAL:

Recently Tim had been . . . more agreeable to your demands somewhat?

You could tell he was pulling his punches.

Sometimes he’d even join you in your exploits.

You never trusted him of course. You never trusted anyone but yourself. But he was fun to be around is all. Whether it was you two beating each other to near death or blowing up buildings (he made sure to evacuate its residents before you two went all out).

“You know. I kinda wanna blow up that building. Don’t you think we’ll have a better view of the sky that way, Timmy?” You pointed to the structure with your signature gun shaped hand gesture.

That was one of Bruce’s buildings.

“You . . . “ Tim blinked at you a couple of times. “are so right.”

“Let’s go.” You yanked him the hand.

Tim smiled. Even if he wasn’t making direct contact with your skin, and you with his — he couldn’t help but smile at the intimacy of this moment. What were his worries with you beside him? All the sadness and anger felt so fleeting when he was with you.

His glee almost costed him his life as it took him a couple of moments to realize that you have pushed him off a building after a while of parkour.

He managed to grapple himself back, and with your assistance, he got back up to the ledge you two were on.

He gave you one half hearted glare. You laugh at his face, “You’re such a loser! Always ready to cry! Wah wah wah!” And you set off. Getting within the building with no care for stealth whatsoever.

What was the point of being all sneaky like when you had bombs on you?

"Wait up! Get back here!" Tim ran after you. He didn’t mind that you were essentially destroying all his and Bruce’s hard-work on his industries, but you were being too reckless. He would sure as hell minded if you were caught.

Turns out he wasn’t so far off when it came to his fears and suspicions.

“You. You set me up.” You glared at him. Hands on your blaster. Ready to shoot at a moment’s notice. Your eyes flicking between the men in front of you, wondering who was best to pick off first.

Batman, Nightwing, or the man you stupidly thought was your friend.

“No. No you have to believe me I—“ Tim tried to explain. But Dick cuts him off, “Good job, we couldn’t have done it without you.”

“You traitor. I knew it. I knew it.” Your voice got weaker and weaker.

No, no, no. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. This wasn’t part of the plan. Tim was supposed to be with you for longer.

“I told you, you have no choice.” Bruce finally spoke. His cape moved to his back.

He wasn’t going to let you go. Not without making it bloody.

“Oh, boohoo. You’ve always been no fun!” Your eyes never leave the two dark suited men, but Tim knew you were speaking to him. “Good thing I never trusted you.”

And you take a deep breath, dropping the laughing gas Harley gave you for emergencies. It wasn’t as strong as the original one, hell you’re sure that those people probably expected that move. But it at least blocked their line of sights on you, allowing you to create some distance.

You managed to get far enough to ready your weapons and send a call of help to your adoptive parents before your prediction proved to be true — footsteps behind you; loud and clear.

“Look’s like we’ve got even more company. Huh, boy savior?”

“Don’t move and I won’t cut you down.”

Pow pow in your hand, and desperation in your mind. The last thing you heard is a blade unsheathing before you pull the trigger.

୨ ©️ ୧⸝⸝﹕hana.no.seiiki - yun | 2024﹐⊂☁️⊃ ‹𝟹

AUTHOR’s NOTE: YALL THOUGHT THIS WAS GONE!! WELL THINK AGAIN!! I AM BACK!!! Sorry for the late update!! Man I’m so excited for season 2 of arcane ahahsheudidj

Taglist: @w31rdg1rl @cherry-peach-flavored @ice-cream-writes-stuff @speckle-meow-meow @inejghafawifesblog @sitepathos @mimiissia @rolo-at-midnight @mossyvampire @kawaiimusiccollection @harpy-space @takottai @maddeningmangos @obsessed-with-a-fictional @ihatemylifeuwu @caramelstrikezz @szapizzapanda @vanessa-boo @imbiafandbored @victor-rose @earphonejack09 @rainnyydaysworld @bubbabobabubbles @ksziggy @evan-trand @emo-z0mbiezzz @nyra-42 @h0rr0r-10ver-69 @orangeboulevard @alwayszealousdetective @huhuhhuhh @iwasveronica @imginarygirl @nebuluma @heyitsaloy @mysticalhills

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere imagine #yandere fic #yandere core #batfam #batfamily #yandere batfam #yandere batfamily #batfam x reader #batfamily x reader #yandere batfam x reader #yandere batfamily x reader #bruce wayne #bruce wayne x reader #yandere bruce wayne x reader #yandere bruce wayne #dick grayson #dick grayson x reader #yandere dick grayson x reader #nightwing #nightwing x reader #yandere nightwing x reader #jason todd #yandere jason todd #red hood #yandere red hood #jason todd x reader #yandere tim drake x reader

[mammonsrockstargf]

I've had a thought about the devildom. ☝🏼🤓

In my country, there’s this book, and I don’t know if it ever made it abroad, but it’s called “The Devil’s Apprentice.” It’s about this kid Filip who dies and then goes to hell, where he finds out that The Devil, Lucifer, is dying, and he wants Filip to become ruler of Hell after him. A bunch of stuff happens; there’s like six or seven books. Lilith is also a really big part of the series. I read them all when I was like 12.

Now, in this book, there are basically different types of devils/demons who all have different types of jobs.

The first type is the one who tempts humans. They’re all really hot because they’re supposed to be able to seduce humans into doing evil deeds, ya know. So if we’re putting this on Obey Me, I think the brothers, Diavolo, Barbatos, Mephistoles, etc. would all be this type, right? They can also shapeshift into whatever they think will be most irresistible for said human, so say the human they’re trying to corrupt is really into a certain physical trait, bam, they have that trait.

So now I’m officially imagining that the generic MC is just really into washboard abs, and that’s why all of the brothers are super ripped. It’s just because generic MC thinks it’s super hot and we’re seeing it through their eyes.

I don’t remember all that much about the other types in the book, but there’s this one type who are the "punishers." Their jobs are basically to torment the humans in hell, and because of that, they’re really scary-looking. They often have green skin and long snake-like tongues, they’re gigantic and use whips to punish people, but they’re all very reasonable fellas with families n shit, even though they’re so scary-looking. Tormenting humans is just their nine-to-five.

So imagine you’re in the Devildom and you’ve only been introduced to the hot demons, and then all of a sudden you see this gigantic fucking monster who definitely looks like he wants to eat you. You ask Mammon what the fuck that is, and he just waves at the guy and goes, “Oh, that’s just Larry.” And then you have to stop on the street for like 10 minutes so Mammon can catch up with him, until Larry reminds Mammon that he still owes him that Grimm he borrowed on gambling night 46 years ago, and all of a sudden Mammon is very busy, and, oh, look at the time, we gotta go.

The third type of demon I remember is this kind that lives in the shadows and feeds on people’s souls. They’re so evil that even other demons avoid them. Imagine one day you’re out with one of the boys, and you take a shortcut through an alley, and it suddenly gets really dark and cold (and this is the devildom so it gets REALLY dark and cold), and you’re just thinking, “What?” until whoever you’re with just grabs you and says, “We've gotta leave.”

It’s not until you’re several blocks away that he’ll tell you what just happened, and he basically just explains that if you’re ever somewhere and it gets really dark and cold all of a sudden, then you just run. Don’t let them eat your soul.

Like, thanks, I’m gonna have nightmares about that now.

Another thing I remember about the series is that in the second book, the whole plot is that there are these really old demons who are so old that they can barely do anything, and they just want to stop living honestly, but they’re immortal, so they can’t.

Do you think that those kinds of demons exist in the Devildom as well? We know that Barbatos is fucking old and he’s doing pretty well, but there are also demons like Dia’s dad who just want to be left alone. Surely there must be a bunch of demons who have been around for as long as Barbs and the Demon King, who are just tired of living? It has to get boring at some point, right?

Imagine in the Devildom there’s a nursing home for all of the old demons who just do not care anymore, and all they do is play cards and hang out. They’re so wrinkly, they look like corpses, but don’t go too close because they still have a liking for human meat, and they can be quite fast when they want to.

Obviously, it's not exactly the same, because in the book they're quite literally in Hell, and the Devildom is more of its own entity and isn't really tied to any religion, but it could be cool if we learned more about different types of demons.

#headcanons #obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me swd #obey me fanfic #obey me brothers #obey me headcanons #obey me x reader #obey me x mc #obey me mammon #obey me dateables

[sophrosynesworld]

with all my love,

Edit: This is now a series with more parts available. Enjoy!

This idea came into my head, basically your significant other is an absent Katsuki Bakugo. After months of a loveless relationship, you decide to leave this note and finally move on.

Dear Katsuki,

If you’re reading this, I’ve already moved my belongings out of our home. You might not believe me, but I’ve had the majority of my items packed in a suitcase next to the front door. It’s been sitting there for the past week, but you never once questioned it.

Each day I waited, hoping you’d notice, hoping you’d ask me about it. Each day, my heart broke a little more when you walked past it without a second glance. I wanted so badly for you to see, to care, to fight for us.

I can’t live like this anymore. I’m tired of sharing a house that feels more like a cold, empty shell than a home. I’m tired of sitting alone at the dinner table, my heart sinking with every passing hour that you’re not there. I’m tired of not seeing you for days on end, of lying awake at night wondering if you’re bleeding out in an alleyway. I might not be a pro-hero, but I’m still your partner. I was your partner.

For months, I fought to gain your attention back, praying to whatever god would listen. I used to beg them, offering anything they wanted, just so you would notice how much I've changed. I started working out again, sculpting my body into something I thought you’d find appealing, hoping to catch your eye like I once did. I even joined a cooking class, learning to make all your favorite dishes. I wanted to surprise you with a homemade meal. You would have known that, if you made it home for dinner once in 4 months.

Do you remember our first apartment after graduation? That tiny studio next to the noodle shop? I find myself there sometimes, watching the new couple who lives in our old place. It's become a painful habit, seeing them live out what we once had. Her boyfriend seems kind, and they slow dance in the kitchen, just like we used to. Sometimes, I can almost hear your laughter echoing in their space, as if our ghosts still linger there.

I remember when we used to laugh and dance together, our dreams tangled like a ball of red string. We would stay up late, talking about our future, making plans that felt like promises. Now, our home your home haunts me. The warmth I once felt has been replaced by a suffocating darkness. I don't know what changed, Katsuki, but pretending everything is fine is tearing me apart.

I often wonder what your biggest regret in life will be. Is it pushing your friends away, no matter how hard they try to love you? Maybe it will be all the times you let your anger get the best of you. Could it be not taking a moment to stop and smell the roses, to appreciate the simple, beautiful moments life has to offer.

I don't know if you've found someone else. Part of me dreads the truth. I don’t want to know if there’s another name on your lips, another face in your heart. I don't think I could bear knowing their name or imagining you whispering those same sweet words into their ear.

Izuku says it’s selfish, but I hope your biggest regret in life is losing me. I hope you see my face in every little thing—the flowers you never stopped to admire, the meals we never shared, the quiet moments you never savored. I hope my laughter echoes in your silence, my tears in your loneliness. I hope my memory haunts your future as painfully as our present haunts me.

If you still love me, Katsuki Bakugo, I haven't felt that love from you in months.

With all of my love,

#You may love me #Katsuki Bakugo #but I haven't felt that love from you in months. #my hero academia #fanfic #angst #mha #mha x reader #bakugou katsuki #mha bakugou #bakugou x reader

[brokenwinebox]

Carmy’s Panic Attack

hi! hello! i don’t normally make things like this but i’ve been obsessed with the bear and sydcarmy so i thought i’d make my first meta. go easy on me please lol.

↓ long text below

sydcarmy is a new hyper-fixation of mine recently so i’ve been reading metas and trying to better articulate why this ship is so addictive to me. i kind of came to the conclusion that subtext and words that aren’t really being said but still very present to the narrative is something that i eat up. although, the thing that gets to me the most is THIS scene right here. carmy’s rude awakening panic attack scene. this is when the show really slapped me in the face. i thought of sydcarmy as a ship that might not happen (and i’ve been burned with ships like these before. hello fellow tvd bamon shippers) so, naturally i ship it and pay attention but i don’t get worked up over them. i would catch certain lines and just think *interesting. huh. that has to be intentional right?*

but then we get to the panic attack scene and it all just clicked in place for me. why did we see sydney’s tattoo in a blue filter next to carmy kissing claire? then we get to claire and carmy’s intimate scene which is also in blue and i remember just sitting there watching it with a confused expression the whole time. during it, i kept thinking why are both these scenes blue? why put sydney after claire (and vice versa) all the time?🤨

all those questions came up to the surface once i saw this scene. it felt like an assassin attempt on my life because i literally lost my mind. i started questioning every thought i’ve ever had. i looked at the dialogue really carefully. i started reading metas to see if people were seeing what i was seeing (they were and a sh*t ton more that wasn’t even in my line of thinking.)

so, after a while i just started binging their scenes over and over again. after this scene, it kinda somehow became a phenomenon almost?? a rare moment in carmy’s head where even though it isn’t explicitly defined, it’s there for us to see.

i watched the trailer for the bear s3 and i just kept thinking of everything i’ve learned and came to the conclusion that none of this is a coincidence.

in the panic attack scene, we’re met with the intimate scene of claire and carmy. then we get snapshots of claire mixed in with his family from the fishes episode. it’s such a strange scene when other people conclude that because carmy just loves claire so much, it scares him. while sydney JUST represents his confidence in his cooking and the restaurant. i kept thinking “how is that the representation of this scene?”

and then i looked at it with a different perspective. as a significant other, wouldn’t i be just a little concerned that another woman can calm him down but not me? then i realized, that’s exactly what’s bothering me about people saying that. because regardless of whether you shipped claire and carmy (all five of them) wouldn’t you be a little upset that carmy can’t even think about his girlfriend to calm down? he doesn’t even call for her in the walk in. he knew she was there. but he called for sydney (the restaurant). he even goes as far as giving claire a fake number. why would i root for that?💀

not to the mention the table scene, which is just straight emotional cheating with a f*cking RESTAURANT y’all. how is it even with sydney representing a restaurant, it still feels disrespectful to claire? you don’t just stare at your restaurant platonic partner like THAT with a hand twitch for no reason. he has more emotional intimacy with sydney, a restaurant. (please let that sink in)

all of this to say it’s very fascinating to see how much claire was attached to the episode fishes. it’s beautiful storytelling because we didn’t really know/meet the family yet until that episode. then seemingly, we get all these scenes of claire being put right next to his family in the panic attack. at the time, i didn’t understand why until the s3 trailer.

what was it about THIS little interaction that causes carmy to give her the wrong number and (possibly intentionally) forget her entirely??

and also how can this be seen as a good thing for claire and carmy stans (all four of them)??? carmy looked so frazzled and shifty eyed. just from the trailer alone, it almost looked like he wasn’t even really looking at her. which is interesting because how can people potentially turn this around and say how romantic this scene is? if sydney truly represents the restaurant to some then what does claire represent here if you add the panic scene on top of it? unless you look at the whole fishes episode in a positive light then being attached to a clearly traumatizing day doesn’t really mean good things for that relationship. that relationship was DOA (dead on arrival).

also a little fun coincidence that just doesn’t seem like a coincidence at this point is how claire is wearing a RED puffer jacket. with the way it’s shot, it’s a pretty good juxtaposition of a sydcarmy moment in the s1 finale. coincidentally, this scene was also in the panic attack.

night is the opposite of day. red is the opposite of green isn’t it? another coincidence???! i’m being delusional??? i don’t know, dude.

seems like claire is in competition with sydney, who apparently just represents the restaurant (how does this not make her a romantic rival?)🙃

also i had another thought that because claire left her “i love you.” on voicemail in s2, if there’s a love confession between sydcarmy, it would be on a call that carmy would answer. i don’t really have in depth thoughts on this theory though so i just thought i’d leave it here to look back on.

thank you if anyone read this. just needed to get my thoughts out before s3 starts and i lose all my initial thoughts and feelings.

#sydcarmy #sydcarmy meta #chefs kiss #syd x carmen #carmy x sydney #sydney x carmy #anti claire bear

[izunx]

HEY THANK YOU SM FOR DOING MY REQUEST!! can I request for part 2 please??? It's too cute!! Thank you!!

Tenjiku Rindou x introvert reader PART 2

he confesses his feelings !

no warnings.

{part 1} -> you don’t have to read part 1 but it’s just as good give it a read NOW

“hey rinnie” you stared up at rindou as you were sat on the swing with your ice cream.

“yep” rindou stood by the swings, leaning against the post in his Tenjiku uniform, hands in his pocket.

this wasn’t unusual for you and rindou. it’s been about 5 months now that you both would spend your free time in each others companies. he would walk you home and take you on small ‘dates’ despite your wish to stay at home.

and on those days you really did want to stay home, he’d accompany you. helping around the house even and entertaining your younger siblings.

“you think I can meet ran?”

…

“that’s a funny joke y/n”

“it wasn’t a joke, I wanna meet ran”

rindou rubbed his temple and just sighed.

“why do you want to meet a man child?”

“that’s not nice rin.”

he side eyed you but decided it was about time you guys probably .. bonded.

“alright alright, only because it’s you”

the next day, rindou was sat in the garage with ran who was grinning uncontrollably.

“remember what I told you ran.”

“hey hey relax there, what am I gonna do? bite her?”

“you never know with your animalistic tendencies”

ran flicked his brother’s head.

at that moment, y/n peeked into the garage. your hair was done neatly and you were in a sundress with a plastic bag of desserts in your hand.

too scared to speak first, you stood there meekly with a frown on your face.

ran simply stared at your face, he’s seen your pictures and has heard about your character but he didn’t expect you to actually be this to anti-social but you were exceptionally beautiful.

rindou understood how you felt and came up to you immediately, running your back in comfort.

“hey y/n, you alright?”

“yep.” you simply said, your head turned away from ran who was sat opposite you both.

“that’s ran over there”

you knew this was your idea and you knew that morning took everything in you to even step out your house but you really didn’t expect it to be this overwhelming.

you walked towards ran putting the bag besides him and bowing your head politely.

“heyy, pretty thing”

rindou wasn’t slow to thwack his brother behind his head. aggressively mouthing the words ‘behave’.

ran awkwardly laugh and the silence that followed after from you was suffocating.

“I’m just gonna go get something for us to drink” ran grinned and left in a hurry.

you let out a sigh of relief,

“I think he got embarrassed”

“that’s unusual for him, he’s usually good talking to girls”

you got insecure about that.

“am I weird to him? does he not like me?”

rin’s eyes widened at this, he knew you weren’t that confident about yourself which was the very reason you didn’t go out much in the first place.

“don’t be silly, you’re gorgeous you know” he mumbled the last part.

he could see your ears redden, but you didn’t say anything.

“hey, i’m being serious about that, you know?”

you sat down on the bench and you were about to explode.

“you can’t say that when you’re here tho.” you sighed out unbearably quiet.

“hahh? say that again” rindou unable to hear, sat down next to you leaning his head in to yours.

this didn’t help your reddening face.

“ugh shut up” you pushed his cheek away and continued to look down.

“hey hey what’s wrong with you? don’t be upset because of that man child, I knew it was a bad idea to introduce you to him”

you looked at him solemnly and leaned your head on his shoulder.

it was like you both were matching red faces.

“sorry about him, he probably just didn’t know what to do with himself in front of you, cos your sweet and all”

“you really think that?”

“yeah, trust me”

rindou thought on ran’s words from earlier.

ran was being extremely obnoxious, pestering rindou about you persistently.

“rinrin if you don’t confess to her soon, I swear I’ll swoop in and make sure you never ever get a chance ever again”

“it’s embarrassing”

“to tell a girl you like her? WIMP”

“i’m not like you.”

“what’s that meant to mean?”

“stinking womaniser.”

“HEY”

should he really do it?

“hey rinnie, do you like anyone?”

‘well then.’ he could only think.

“do you?”

“hey I asked you first” you grumbled.

“well yeah I guess I do.”

it was silent for a moment -

“who?”

…

“rinnie I asked you who?”

“you” he sighed, “I like you.”

you lifted your head and just stared at him.

“are you breathing..”

you hugged him tight.

“is that an ‘I like you too’” he was quick to hold you tight.

“of course it is!” you pushed his chest.

he stared into your face for a bit, and pecked your lips.

a subtle, short first kiss. but it was overcome with an incredible amount of fluster.

you guys were like highschool kids, experiencing first time romance.

you went back in for a longer, more desperate kiss. he held your head like you were a fragile doll. and likewise you held his face with a gentleness rindou couldn’t get anywhere else.

you lied your head on his shoulder again, in silence.

“i’ll make sure to ask you out more… romantically next time,”

“don’t sweat it lover boy.”

he flicked your head but laughed

“hey, what happened to ran?”

rindou’s phone buzzed at the moment and when he opened his phone, he was met with an extremely stupid text.

‘i just took the most diabolical shit rn not a joke, i’ll come back to u 2 in like 10 mins, don’t miss me too much ;)’

“yeah.. I think I know where” rindou could only look down in disgust and you giggled.

“at least he gave us two time,”

you flashed him a greedy smirk.

“it’s always you quiet girls..”

but rindou was quick to crash his lips onto yours.

sorry it took so long my lovelies but i have delivered. NOT PROOFREAD

#tokyo revengers x reader #anime x reader #tokyo revengers #x reader #tokyo manji #fanfic #bonten x reader #tenjiku rindou #rindou haitani #rindou x y/n #rindou x reader #tokrev rindou #rindou fluff #tokyo manji x reader #tokyo manji revengers #rindou x reader oneshot #rindou haitani oneshot #haitani brothers

[ninyard]

Nicky: yeah he slept with a chair in his room and a knife nearby so we think he’s just insane

Neil: ……

No but rlly, no matter how you feel about Nicky, on one hand I am an outside observer so reading this exchange I’m like “oh ffs obviously that’s not why! That makes no sense!” But then I think about it more and it’s actually probably really realistic? Nicky doesn’t know what andrew went through, he probably didn’t think his life in foster care was that bad, that kind of abuse just isn’t on his radar bc he’s had different experiences and exposures, so the possibility of anything else just doesn’t cross his mind, plus he’s already biased to think andrew is just naturally “like that” bc that’s the assumption he’s already been operating under, plus the natural inclination of ppl to not want to see awful things. It makes sense for him and Aaron that that’s the conclusion they come to, and that makes me so mad at the world for reasons I can’t quite articulate

Sorry for hitting you with this out of nowhere I actually meant to say something else but idr what bc I clicked the ask button and this is what came out instead xD

Oh 100%. I GET it. I understand why everyone has this perception of Andrew that he’s, in their own words, a monster. That he’s a loveless, emotionless sociopath. Imagine Aaron, excited to meet the twin he didn’t even know he had, and the first thing he says to you is fuck off, fuck you, leave me the fuck alone?

Imagine you meet the cousin you didn’t even know you had, and for some reason you don’t know about, he’s been in your house for how long? He’s been there for how long before he’s made an enemy out of your father, out of your aunt, he won’t talk to the cousin you did know about, he’s angry and depressed and he keeps knives under these arm bands he refuses to take off? He’s like Aaron in a different shade, like the dark version of a person already dark and destroyed. But he won’t talk to you. Why won’t you talk to us, Andrew? And all you get in response is a knife, or a blank stare, or a fuck off, fuck you, leave me the fuck alone?

Then your aunt is dead, and he’s alive, and the cousin you did know about is grieving and angry, and you, Nicky, who has fought so hard to keep the peace in your household, are now surrounded by negativity, and anger, and past problems that nobody fucking wants to deal with?

I get it.

Then they’re at Eden’s, and he hears it over his shoulder, the shouted slur. And then Andrew, who barely even talks to him anyway when they’re out drinking is on top of this stranger in a flash. And there’s blood, and the stranger stops fighting back. But Andrew’s fists keep coming back, and keep coming back, and keep coming back.

He nearly kills him. He nearly kills him. He nearly kills him. For you. Because you don’t know that he’s gay. You don’t know the weight of the word shouted your way. He’s protecting you. He’s protecting you.

You’re scared of him. He gets locked up. Whatever the timeline is pre-tfc. You’re scared of the cousin you didn’t know you had.

I get it.

But imagine being Andrew. They don’t ask what happened. They take the courts word for it when they say you’re a danger to society. They take the courts word for it when they say your depressive episodes are a danger to yourself. You tried. You tried to tell someone, but it’s a misunderstanding, and god’s intention, and your fault. So why bother trying again?

You spend all this time on this medication that makes you feel worse than anything you’ve ever been on - you spend years of your life in this haze, a mixture derealisation and constant and unending mania. You’re sick without it. You’re sick on it. You don’t remember who you are without it. You don’t want to know who you will be without it.

And imagine being Andrew, and it takes being violated in your cousins childhood bedroom, or just a room in his childhood home, for them to finally get it? Your autonomy stolen from you. Your secrets exposed without permission, again. Your consent is never your own choice. It never has been.

Oh and then let’s think about Nicky. And all that’s in his head is ANDREW IS WORSE WITHOUT HIS MEDS.

Maybe he hears the laugh from the bottom of the stairs. Maybe he only hears Neil talking about it. ANDREW WAS LAUGHING. HE WAS LAUGHING. HE WAS VIOLATED AND DESTROYED AND COVERED IN BLOOD AND HE WAS LAUGHING.

And this has happened before?

And Drake was not the only one?

Does it make sense now?

Is he a sociopath or was he made to be that way? Is he crazy or was this someone else’s fault? Does he protect his family because nobody protected him?

Why didn’t he tell me? Why did this happen under the roof of my family home?

In theory I hate how they don’t know what Andrew is really like. How they’re afraid of him off his meds. But it makes sense why. I get it. Why the fuck would they not think that?

But I think they understand how wrong they were eventually. I think they see how he might not smile anymore - but he is much happier now.

#incoherent ramble once again #long post

[wordsofhoneydew]

🌟 fic rec friday 🌟

9:42, nyu apartment by @cricketnationrise

If you’d told Alex ten years ago that he’d love being pinned to his own couch and kissed to within an inch of his life by Henry fucking Fox, he’d have laughed in your face.

on my knees (i’m aphrodite) by luisasfalsegod

“Baby, we gotta start getting ready for dinner. Ma’ is gonna kill me if I‘m not on time.” June murmurs.

“Tell me to stop and I will” Nora rasps.

June shivers, goosebumps rising on her skin. “Something tells me you don’t want me to” Nora smiles as she cocks her head.

“Oh my god” June whines.

Nora unhooks her bra, pulling it off June‘s body impatiently. She ghosts a hot breath across June‘s skin, delighting in the fact that her nipples are turning harder by the second.

“Are you gonna be a good girl for me?” Nora asks, looking up at June with serious eyes.

Or the one where June and Nora are forced to attend a state dinner at the White House when all they wanna do is fuck

You’re Gonna Go Far by @inexplicablymine

He would let the rich pavement and wide open highways take him home. Texas bluebonnet wild, cicada strong, sideways pampas grass floating freeways situated between wildfire season and the inevitable downpour of hail that tramples Mother Nature's roadside finger paintings.

But he fucking can’t.

Because New York City doesn’t have cicadas; it has cockroaches.

He can’t take the key around his neck and let it be a homing device—protective shield across his heart when he’s run out of air and the gas tank goes low.

Or, After the dust settles and the Brownstone becomes home, it should all be okay. So why does it all still feel so hard?

Is it casual now? by ncfariouvs

There are a couple things in this world that are absolutely unbearable for Alex.

The sound of her parents fighting, for one. She still remembers it, the yelling, that is. It was always so loud that even headphones couldn’t cancel out the noise.

Another thing she cannot fucking stand is when people don’t know how to make good coffee. It’s not that fucking hard.

Thirdly, people not letting her explain herself. She fucking hates being blamed for things that she didn’t do without having the chance to defend herself.

There are a couple more extreme ones, such as racists, bigots, and outright assholes…

But one thing she can’t fucking stand at this particular moment is the snobby, blonde, British girl in her English class who always has her nose stuck in a fucking book.

Henri fucking Fox.

no control (all yours) by @comethedaylight

Alex feels the first twinge in his bladder as he’s moving to the fridge to grab the water pitcher, an ache that’s sharp at first, but settles into something manageable, something almost… exciting. Like a buzz under his skin that he wants to ride out, like a high.

He’s been at this point before, after one too many coffees during late night study sessions in undergrad, too distracted by his readings to take a break, but the difference between then and now is he would just cut his losses. He’d feel that first ache and get up, bookmark his spot and nip it in the bud, but that’s not the plan tonight.

Tonight, he refills his bottle, lays back on the couch, and turns to his phone.

or alex learns something about himself while trying to learn more about his husband

no bunny compares to you by winterpine

Henry is a lot of things as a person and while much of his personality transfers over to his bunny form, his physical attributes do not. Most notably, his size.

Where Alex’s boyfriend stands tall and regal, his furry counterpart is small and fluffy, unable to summit even the most minor of obstacles.

Take their sofa, for one. Alex is watching TV and minding his own business, when he hears a steady thump from just below him. Peering over the edge of the dark cushion, he spots his boyfriend angrily pounding his back foot against the carpet.

“Ha! Is my little bun too tiny to get up here on his own?” Alex teases. He’s promptly rewarded with a whisker twitch followed by a nose scrunch. Henry is pouting and it’s the most adorable thing he’s ever witnessed.

or, five times Henry shapeshifts for himself and one time he does it for Alex

never wanna stop (‘cause your taste is so divine) by strawbgrl

Henry grins in contentment and rakes his fingernails along the backs of Alex’s thighs. “There’s my good boy,” he praises. Alex muffles a whine into the bend of his elbow and Henry watches in astonishment as he relaxes against the mattress. The verbal approval settles deep in Alex’s bones. “I knew you hadn’t forgotten your manners. You just needed a bit of a reminder. Isn’t that right, darling?”

Henry gives, and Alex takes.

l’échappatoire by @anincompletelist

A sea of dark curls. Warm, kind eyes. A slanted, smiling mouth, a dimple carved into the side. One hand holding a tall, steaming coffee, the other a mug full of Henry’s favorite tea. A whisper, a brush of fingertips in the trade off. The more important details.

“Hey, sweetheart.”

It’d be something out of Henry’s most treasured fantasies if he didn’t already know they’d be the last words this man ever says.

Henry fixes anomalies in other people's timelines. It's quite predictable and impersonal work for the most part. (Save for when it seems intent on unraveling his own, of course.)

Don’t Let Them Eat Cake by Magentarivers

Something shifted in the breath between them.

"Are you going to say something sappy?”

“Maybe.” Henry grinned tightly, as though caught red handed.

“Okay good, because me too. You go first.”

It's the night after their anniversary party, and the boys just want to do what any husbands want to do. Unfortunately they are parents first.

I’ll Wait for your Love (1 day before the Reddit Post) by Swoonoveryou

Alex sends Henry flowers for their friendship anniversary. What does this mean? After all these signs, does this mean Alex could actually like him?

He thinks maybe asking the internet might help.

Vegas, Baby by @porcelainmortal

“Hold on, Nora. I need some luck.” Alex holds out his hand, a pair of dice cradled in his palm. “Blow for luck?” He winks and throws Henry a devastatingly gorgeous smile.

Henry’s breath catches in his throat but he manages to inhale sharply before blowing on the dice in Alex’s hand. Alex’s pupils dilate as his eyes are drawn to Henry’s lips. Henry feels as if time has stopped, but he can hear the people at the table still talking and the bells of the machines going off around them. Nora nudges Alex with her elbow, seeming to break the spell Henry and Alex have been under. Alex’s attention is ripped away and he turns, throwing the dice down the middle of the table.

OR, Alex & Henry meet in Vegas, get drunk, and get married. Woops.

#wohd recs #rwrb #red white and royal blue #alex claremont diaz #prince henry rwrb #rwrb movie #henry fox mountchristen windsor #firstprince #alex x henry #rwrb fic #rwrb alex #junora