#I might have to get a skin or something for it. it looks very very boring. plus it's almost the exact same model as my partner's work laptop | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

daydreaming-nerd · 15 hours

Text

I’ll Crawl Home To Her (Azriel x Reader)

AN: This was supposed to be based off But Daddy I Love Him but it morphed into something else but I'm kinda happy about it.

Summary: The story of how the princess of Velaris and the shadowsinger came to be.

Warnings: blood, injury, dickhead dads, bit of smut but it's not too descriptive (It's for the plot), angst, fluffy ending.

Word count: 8053

As a princess I was told that “hate” is a very strong word. Consequently, there weren’t a lot of things that I hated. For example, I greatly disliked when my tea came with too much milk, and I absolutely despised corsets. But if there was one thing I hated, and I mean truly hated, it was my father.

If it wasn’t for the way he treated my mother and older brother then it would be the way he treated me. How he kept me from my beloved, my brother's best friend, the shadowsinger, my Azriel.

Azriel had been mine long before my father ever knew about it. When I grew to be 207 my mother finally convinced my father to let me go to Windhaven with her to visit Rhys. I hadn’t seen my brother in years, as he had begun training with the Illyrians.

He wrote me letters of course, detailing friends and enemies he made along the way. Two of which stood out to me, Cassian and Azriel. However these letters never made up for him in the flesh, which is why during my first trip to Windhaven I had never been so excited. To this day I still remember it…

The winter wind stung my cheeks as snow clung to the furs of my cloak. It was as if no matter how many layers I wore the wind found its way to barrel through and nip at my skin.

I found myself walking along the edge of the camp, where the light of the fires couldn't reach me and only the moon gave me the ability to see. When my mother and I arrived at the little cabin Rhys was not there, after speaking to Devlon we found he was on assignment and would be home soon.

After a few hours in the cabin I began to feel claustrophobic, so I took a walk around the heavily wooded area. There was something magic about the first snow of the season. The way the snow covered the ground and crunched under my boots. White capped trees that looked like they were frosted by the gods, and the still silence that came from the insulation the blanket of white provided.

“It’s a little cold out don’t you-” a voice crooned behind me and stopped abruptly as I turned to face him.

Standing frozen just a few feet from me was an Illyrian male with his mouth agape at the sight of me. He was large, his wings the biggest I had ever seen. Inky black hair framed his carved face as his hazel eyes frozen in shock as if he had just seen a ghost.

“Forgive me,” he said, shaking his head a bit, as if to clear the fog from his mind. “It’s just that I don’t see many beautiful things up here, you startled me.”

My cheeks flush and I pray he thinks it's from the cold and not the butterflies in my stomach.

“I find that hard to believe when this is your view,” I smile, gesturing to the snow valley below us. “There’s nothing more beautiful than the first snowfall of the year.”

Footsteps crunch behind me as he comes up on my right, “Perhaps, but it pales in comparison to you,” he smirks and this time I know he can tell he’s the reason my cheeks are pink. “Might I have the honor of knowing your name?”

I turn to meet his gaze once more but before I can answer back I hear a shout coming from far away.

“Y/N!” my brother shouts charging towards me.

“Rhys!” I call back running into his embrace.

He lets out a groan as I leap into his arms, a pile of furs and wool as I pull him into me. The scent of sea salt and citrus filling my nose, the warmth of him seeping through my clothes.

“Ahh little sister I’ve missed you,” Rhys says, setting me down to get a good look at me.

“Little sister?” called the male behind me, his snow crunching footsteps coming towards Rhysand and I’s side.

“It seems you’ve already met her, this is my little sister, y/n.”Rhys beams, placing a hand on my shoulder. “Y/n this is my very good friend, Azriel.”

“Azriel,” I blink, holding out my hand for the shadowsinger to shake. How had I not realized? Rhysand’s letters spoke of his shadowsinger friend, now that I looked at him, and I mean really looked at him, I could see the dark matter swirling around him.

“Princess,” he says, bowing his head and pressing a kiss to my hand. “It is an honor to meet you. You’ll have to forgive my previous informality, I didn’t know who you were.”

Rhysand let out a hearty laugh behind me, “Azriel my friend there is no need for such formalities, in fact my sister detests them.” he smiles.

“It’s true, you can just call me y/n, I’m sure that we’ll be seeing a lot more of each other in the years to come.” I smile hoping I was speaking the truth into existence.

“Come, mother has made dinner for all of us and you have yet to meet Cassian,” Rhys said enthusiastically, throwing an arm over my shoulder.

From that day forward I found myself spending more and more time at Windhaven, in hopes of seeing Azriel. Sometimes I would see him for only a minute or so, other times he would be able to stay and have dinner with my mother, myself and of course Rhys and Cass.

Those were always my favorite nights when he and I would share stolen glances across the table. Sometimes we might brush hands reaching for the carafe of wine, other times I would feel his boot brush my ankle under the table. Both of us danced around the other like flickering flames.

It wasn’t until a few years later when all three of them conquered the blood rite that Azriel and I were finally able to admit our feelings for one another…

We stood behind one of the many rows of cabins, the sound of laughing warriors celebrating their victories or mourning their losses ran through the camp. Before he even spoke I knew why he asked me to meet him back here, I could feel the tension between us both.

“I’m tired of acting like I don’t care about you. I’m tired of saying “nothing” whenever Rhys and Cassian ask me what’s on my mind. I’m tired of trying to hide that everytime I come back to camp that I’m looking for you and hoping I can see you for just one second. I’m tired of pretending I don’t love you,” Azriel confesses, caging me against the back wall of a cabin.

“Azriel I-” I begin but he cuts me off.

“When we were on the mountain, there was a moment where there was a dagger to my throat and I thought I was going to die. I thought I would leave this world without telling you how much I loved you. If it wasn’t for Cassian that would’ve been the case. I won’t make the same mistakes twice,” he finished.

“Azriel, I love you too,” I shuddered a sigh, aware of how close he was to me.

The second the words left my mouth he was on me, large hands encircling my waist as I felt every inch of his body pressed against mine. His breath was hot on my face, contrasting the bitter cold of the night air.

“Can I kiss you?” he breathed, lips mere inches from mine.

“Please,” I begged, but once again the word hung in the air for mere seconds before his mouth was on mine.

Every part of it felt so right. His hands on my waist, my fingers in his hair, his lips on mine claiming me in a way that made my head spin. My arms pulled him as close as possible, needing to feel him, smell that scent of rain, leather and whatever intoxicating cologne he was wearing. I was so drunk on him that I was shaken when I heard a hearty laugh ring out through the camp.

I pulled back immediately realizing what was happening, “Oh my gods, we can’t do this here, my brother he-”

“Shhh, shhh,” he cooed, brushing a stray hair behind my ear. “I talked to Rhys about it, I have his blessing to court you. He took it rather well, he actually seemed excited.” Azriel laughed, pressing a kiss to my forehead as he held me closer, his body blocking the wind from seeping into my clothes.

“Oh Azriel,” I smile, kissing him hard as I feel him lifting me into the air, my head spinning just as fast as he spun me.

We spent the rest of that night lying on a blanket in a field away from the world. The sound of distant celebrations making us laugh every now and then. At some point I could’ve sworn I heard Cassian singing a tale of an old drunk warrior.

I had tried to tell Azriel that he should join his brothers in their celebration but he insisted that he would much rather spend his few moments of peace with me. It was one of the best nights of my life.

Our relationship was kept secret from everyone but Rhys and Cassian. Even my mother, who always accompanied me to Windhaven, was kept in the dark. No one with close ties to my father could know. That being said, it was hard for Azriel and I to find quiet moments together.

Most of the time we met in the woods behind camp. Azriel would go away and bring me little trinkets, pretty rocks and feathers he found while in the mountains. In the spring he always came with a freshly picked bouquet of wildflowers. We always ended up making out and getting carried away, on more than one occasion I tried to take things further but he never let me.

“I won’t have the first time I bed you in the woods. You’re a princess, you deserve a soft bed to be worshiped on.”

Was what he always said to me. While I appreciated the sentiment, I couldn’t help but wish for more.

It wasn’t until a few months later that I finally saw an opening. Father and mother were going to be at a meeting in the Winter Court, leaving Velaris in the care of Rhys. More importantly the cabin at Windhaven would be empty. That night was truly the best night of my life.

My back hits the warm sheets below me as Azriel looks at my bare body with hungry eyes. I had never been with a male before, my father and mother dead set on having me intact for whatever husband they shackled me to. But Azriel would be my husband, even if he wasn’t noble or the son of a High Lord he was mine, and I was his. I didn’t care how many rules I had to break to have him.

“My beautiful, beautiful princess,” he murmurs, pressing kisses to my neck.

His hands wander the expanse of my bare skin, both warming and leaving goosebumps wherever they trail. I arch my back into him, needing more, needing the very essence of him branded into me.

“Azriel I need more,” I breathe tugging on the ends of his hair.

He had already stripped me bare and kissed every square inch of me before falling to his knees and feasting on me like I was his last meal. I had read about such sinful touches before, dreamt about experiencing those sensations with him at night. None of it compared to the real thing.

“Are you sure about this?” He asks me once more, brushing the hair from my face.

“I’m sure, I want it to be you,” I nod running my hands through his hair again.

The wild twinkle in his eyes was enough to make my toes curl as he smiled at me, “I promise to be gentle, to make you feel good,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to my lips.

“I trust you Az,” I nod and his lips kick up again at his nickname.

I feel him nudge and my entrance and my breath hitches as he inches himself inside. The stretch was painful, but the sting faded as he peppered kisses all over my face, whispering sweet nothings to me.

“Shh you’re doing so well princess…”

“You’re so beautiful…”

“Can you feel me? Can you feel us?”

“I love you…”

I must’ve seen stars a million times that night. His gentle nature only made me fall deeper in love with him. It wasn’t the brutal fucking I had heard about in taverns and from drunk men at balls. He had taken his time, and been even more gentle than he had promised me.

We made love a dozen times that night. Kissed and touched and worshiped until I fell asleep, bathed and warm in his arms.

The next morning was hard to face. Knowing we had to leave the cabin and act as if we didn’t spend the entire night exchanging souls, and tangled in eachothers arms.

Az especially was on edge, so much so that when a younger male offered to tie my boot for me Azriel marched over and pushed him into the mud before pulling my foot onto his bent knee and tying it himself.

Of course I yelled at him for being an Illyrian baby while Rhys and Cassian laughed and poked fun at their friend. Azriel just huffed and shot a warning glance at the poor male who had tried to tie my boot.

From there on out we spent every possible moment together. I would tell my father that I was visiting friends in other courts just so I could see Azriel, which wasn’t often. As the war between humans and fae grew more iminanent I saw less and less of the shadowsinger. Our meetings became more fervent, and well…passionate. We became careless and it’s what ended up tearing him away from me for good.

My back was pressed against the cabin wall, my hands pinned by my head as Azriel’s lips consumed mine. We had no longer than an hour together before he would be set back to scout for Hybern’s troops, but we intended to make the most of it.

“I missed you,” he breathed into my neck.

“I missed you too, two weeks is too long,” I murmured, breathing in his scent. He always left me one of his many shirts to sleep in but it never did compare to the real thing.

“I don’t have much time, they’re sending me to the border to scout for Hybern’s troops,” he says in between kisses.

Scarred hands drift over my waist and graze my bum as I feel him collecting fist fulls of my skirt. Before my dress can be pushed up much further than my knees the door to the cabin barges open, startling both of us. Azriel placed his hand on one of the daggers strapped to his side, but not even he could defend me from who stepped through the threshold.

“What the hells is going on here?” My father’s voice boomed from the doorway, the cold air from outside seeping into the place that was once our own.

I peek out from behind Azriel’s shoulder to find not only my father but Lord Devlon standing before us. My fathers eyes locked on mine, and white hot fear seared my nerves.

“What are you doing with my daughter?!” My father roared, his power slamming Azriel aside.

“Father no!” I scream, clinging to his arm to interrupt his antics.

Devlon screamed for backup to come as Azriel’s feet hit the floor again. The commotion outside beginning to stir.

“My lord, I-” Azriel starts to explain but my father cuts him off.

“You will not speak unless spoken to, you bastard born brute!” my father screams as Devlon’s men come to detain the Shadowsinger.

“Father stop it! He didn’t take advantage of me, we’ve been seeing each other.” I plead with my father as tears start to well up in my eyes.

“What?!” he scoffed, looking at me like I was a common whore. “You are promised to one of the sons of Spring and yet you soil yourself with filth of his kind?”

“He’s not filth. He’s Rhys’ friend, and he’s good, brave and kind.” I beseech him as I hear Azriel struggle against the men who have him bound.

My father takes a deep breath and turns his gaze from me. The sound of his boots crossing the wooden floors to stand before Azriel are the loudest most impending sound I had ever heard. He stands before my shadowsinger before raising his hand and letting his fist collide with that beautiful face I had spent so long kissing.

My gasp reverberates through the room but Azriel doesn’t make a sound, as if he’s challenging my father, or proving his worth.

“What should we do with him?” my father asks, not taking his eyes off Az.

“The boy has completed the rite, we can send him to one of the battalions on the border. Perhaps the trash will take itself out,” Devlon laughs. I had known that the Lord had a chip on his shoulder for my brother and his friends. But sending him to the slaughter?

“Father please I love him!” I cry falling to my knees before my father, grasping his hand. I would never beg my father for anything, never fall to my knees for anyone. But for this I would… for Azriel, I would die on my knees.

Despite my pleading my fathers gaze never falters from where it is fixed on Azriel. As if he’s trying to decide if he should slit his throat now or let him die on a battlefield. Azriel’s face remains steadfast and strong, showing no signs of weakness, like he will accept whatever punishment befalls him with the grace of a warrior.

“Send him,” he says resolutely before turning away.

“NO PLEASE!” I beseech as my father hauls me to my feets again, but my knees are giving out under me.

“It is done,” his gruff voice says in my ear as I watch them haul Azriel to his feet. “One day you’ll thank me.”

I watch as they pull Azriel toward the door. Dragging him unnecessarily letting his wings drape across the ground. It was all happening so fast and could be the last time I ever saw his face.

“Let me say goodbye! Please let me say goodbye!” I shouted thrashing in my fathers grasp. Needing to touch Az one last time, needing one more moment with him.

Azriel’s eyes were frantic as he heard my screams, as he watched my father use his strength to detain me.

“Listen! Listen!” he called trying to get me to stop my frantic blubbering, the guards pulling him out the door. “You have to be strong princess. I love you , and I will find you again, if not in this life than in the next!” he shouts as he is hauled past the threshold of the cabin.

“Azriel!” I scream, my voice cracking under the weight of my tears.

“I love you!” he shouts again from the outside of the cabin.

“I love you!” I call back to him, not knowing if I’ll ever get another chance to say it.

That was six months ago...

Since then the war had gotten more and more bloody, and unavoidable. As far as I knew Azriel was still alive. I hadn’t seen him since the night he was ripped from my arms, a night I often had nightmares about. I sent him letters whenever possible and every so often I would get one back.

I could tell he had tried to send more, as every date on the ones that did make it through were skewed. The most recent one, dated two months ago, burned a hole in the pocket of my dress. The folds were so worn from reading that I feared they may fall apart the next time I opened it.

My love,

I am alive and well, though my battalion has suffered great losses. More and more Illyrians are sent to the frontlines every day to take the place of the dead. There are times I wonder if a wide eyed recruit will ever take my place…

At night I lie in bed and dream of you lying next to me, your warmth. Or the way your hair looks sprawled in swirling over the green grass when you’re under me. The sound of your voice calling my attention. The softness of your hands. The night you came undone for me in the cabin.

My only consolation is that when I look up at the night sky. I know you are looking at those same stars. And if what I’m doing is keeping you safe. Keeping you fed and swathed in those blue silks that drive me crazy. Then I will sleep in this tent and fight alongside my peers happily. My love is safe and warm because of me.

I love you, and I will return to you.

Yours eternally,

Azriel

I fold the tattered parchment with gloved hands and tuck it securely into the pocket of my dress. The shouts of men and the clash of swords outside my tent drown out the peace I had struggled to preserve.

Hybern’s army had marched on Velaris and while the border hadn’t been breached, my father decided it was unsafe to leave my mother and I there. My mother was sent to a camp with my father where he would watch over her, I was sent to Rhys’ camp.

The flap of the tent is thrown open, my brother charges in wearing his leathers, his hair disheveled and a letter in hand.

“What is it?” I stand upon seeing the worry gracing his face.

Armies had been marching upon another camp a few miles away. If they had breached the encampment that would mean they were coming for us next. We would have just minutes to evacuate and find a safe place.

“The men were able to hold the front lines,” he says, setting down his swords with a sigh that told me that there was still news to be revealed.

“Then what is it?” I asked quietly, unsure of whether or not I wanted to know the truth he had to say.

Violet eyes met my own, in them, a sorrow and worry I had not yet seen from my brother, “It’s Azriel.” he said.

My heart stopped and my world quieted as I perched myself on a nearby chair, not trusting my legs to keep me upright. Not when my heart lay in the balance, the very reason I was alive.

“He was injured, severely. He may be dying y/n.” he said sadly, coming to stand before me.

May be dying. Which meant he was alive, which meant there was still a chance.

My head snaps up to him, a new fire in my gaze that no one had seen in six months.

“Take me to him,” I ordered my brother as I stood to collect my cloak.

“You’re asking me to take you, my sister, to the front lines. I won’t do it.” Rhys shakes his head.

“I am going with or without you Rhys,” I say firmly, wrapping my cloak around my shoulders.

He sighs and runs a hand through his hair before picking his swords up again and strapping them to his sides. With my hood over my head and my brother's hand at my back we made our way out into the night. Once we reached the wards at the edge of the camp we winnowed to the encampment near the frontlines.

Immediately as we walked through the rows of tents and campfires I could tell that these males had seen hell. All of them looked significantly worse than the males at the camp we had just come from. Most of them were caked in mud and blood, some were drunk on whatever filled their cups. All of them were loud and rowdy and most likely celebrating their last nights in this life.

Rhys led me through the camp, until we arrived at a lonely tent in the center. It was large and from the outside I could practically smell Azriel. I bolted for the entrance and threw open the flaps, my heart racing, unsure if I would find him alive or dead.

But there he was, breathing. Leaning against the back of his bed with a large bandage over his left thigh. He was awake and refreshingly himself, as if nothing was truly wrong and most importantly he was alive.

I run to him throwing my arms around his neck, “Oh Azriel,” I coo breathing him in.

“Y/n?” he says, his mind clearly still foggy.

I pull back to cup his face, whoever had healed him has cleaned him up, the small cut above his eyebrow already starting to heal, “Az,” I breathe.

His hand comes to cup my face, “How are you here? This can’t be real,” his eyes search my face as if to try and wake up from a dream.

I place a kiss on his lips, “I’m real, I’m here,” I assure him as tears spill from my eyes. “They told me you were dying.”

“I am well, it was a deep cut but the healers say I’ll be okay,” he assures me as his eyes continue to take me in.

I let my eyes do the same, taking in every cut and bruise on him, even the patched holes in his wings no doubt from arrows piercing the beautiful, leathery flesh.

“Faebane?” Rhys’ voice croons from the entrance of the tent as he watches us, it seemed that his nerves were also settled upon seeing Azriel well.

“Yep,” Azriel said nonchalantly, but his eyes told the truth of how happy he was to see my brother, or maybe how relieved.

“Hurts like a bitch doesn’t it?” Rhys chuckles stepping into the tent and closing the flap.

My eyes widened at his causal tone, “How can you both be so docile about this? He could’ve died.” I exclaim, looking Azriel over once more in case I missed any lingering wounds.

Azriel's chest rumbles with a chuckle, “Shhh my love. Everything will be alright.” he says, pressing a kiss to my forehead. “But what are you doing here? It isn’t safe.”

“The border of Velaris is almost breached,” Rhys started from behind me. “We couldn’t leave her and my mother there, it wasn’t safe.”

“Mother is with father and I’m with Rhys. We found out you were injured and just a camp away and I asked him to take me to you.” I continue Rhys’ explanation.

Azriel cuts Rhys a somewhat harsh look as if to say ‘why the hell would you take her somewhere so dangerous?’

“You needed to see each other,” Rhys explains further. “If anything were to happen to you and I didn’t let you two say goodbye, I would never forgive myself.”

Azriel’s shoulders softened in understanding before turning to me once more, “You have to go princess,” he said, eyes full of sorrow.

My breath hitches as I stumble back a little from where I sit next to him, “What? No, I won’t leave you,” I say resolutely.

He cups the side of my face, “Please it’s not safe here,” he eyes pleading as his voice falters.

I go to argue but Rhys speaks up behind me, “He’s right y/n, It’s the most vulnerable camp we have.” my brother says, his words solemn.

“I don’t care!” I exclaim turning back to brush Azriel’s hair from his face. “I’m not leaving him Rhys, we will be okay.”

Azriel’s eyes flare, “Look at me!” he shouts gesturing to his leg. “I can’t protect you here,” his voice is laced with frustration, not at my unwillingness to leave, but his inability to do the one thing he swore to always do, protect me.

“Then I’ll die here with you!” I proclaim, fiercely. “If you cannot protect me, then you cannot protect yourself. Please Azriel, please don’t make me leave.” I cry lying down on his chest, gripping the leathers there, as if it might keep my brother from ripping me away.

“I can’t,” I sob as my words get caught in my throat. “I can’t lose you again I-”

“Shhh,” Azriel coos, his hand stroking my hair as he pulls me into his chest. “You’ll stay here in my arms.” he assures me and I’m finally able to relax into his touch.

“Y/n, I can’t stay here. I need to go back to my own troops and prepare them for tomorrow,” my brother said softly, not trying to persuade me to return, but to inform me of the increasing danger.

“I understand,” I say standing to say goodbye.

“I’ll come back for you tomorrow morning, before the troops march,” he said, his words tinged with sorrow.

I take in the sight of my brother looking defeated, a look I so rarely saw on him. It broke me to realize I might never see him after this. If the enemy marched on this camp there would be no one to keep Azriel and I from the slaughter given his injury.

“Okay,” I whispered, my voice cracking as I threw myself onto my beloved brother.

Rhys said his goodbyes to Azriel, both of them not wanting to get too deep, say too much, for fear of manifesting defeat on both sides. When my brother exited the tent I took my spot next to Azriel on his large cot and waited for either death or the sunrise.

Later in the night, the raucous from outside got louder and louder disturbing my sleep. When I raised my head from Azriel’s chest I found that his eyes remained open and fixed on the tent entrance, like he was ready to challenge anyone who dared to walk through despite his inability to walk.

“Hey,” I smiled weakly, my voice shaky from sleep.

“Hey,” he smiled back, pushing a hair from my face.

I moved back the blanket to check the gash in his thigh. Lifting the white bandage, I could see that it was almost completely soaked through, if I left it that way he would never get better.

I throw my legs over the edge of the cot and search for my discarded cloak, “You need fresh bandages or you’ll get an infection. I’m going to go get you some.”

“Y/n don’t you dare leave this tent. There are war bound men out there looking for one last lay before they leave this world,” he pleads, reaching for my hand that’s just out of reach.

“I’ll only be a moment Az,” I assure him before raising my hood and slipping out of the tent.

I can hear him shouting my name as I exit, but his protests are quickly drowned out by the sound of drunken men. Azriel was right, these men were drunk and not in their right mind. But if that wound got infected and he died I would never forgive myself. So I kept my head down walking towards the medic tent I passed on my way in, ignoring rambunctious cheers and stumbling men.

The light of the medic tent comes into view and relief washes over me swiftly before the rug is pulled out from under me and I run smack into a broad chest.

“Well what do we have here?” laughs a drunken male. I can smell the sweat and alcohol on him.

“Looks like we have a little birdy who lost her way,” laughs a male from my right.

My feet take two steps back before bumping into another mountain of a male. His hand comes up to rip the hood off my head, if all three of them recognized me as their princess they didn’t show it. My pulse began to race as I frantically looked for a way out of this hell.

“What’s a beauty like you doing out here?” crooned the male behind me.

I put on a stoic face, “I’m leaving if you’ll excuse me,” I state, but before I can even take my first step I feel large hands grasping my shoulders holding me in place.

“Whoever bought you for the night must’ve paid a pretty penny,” jested the man to my right.

“What do ya say darlin? Are you gonna give these brave men a proper send off?” the man behind me says low into my ear as he grabs me around the middle, plucking me off the ground.

I start kicking trying to break free, my screamed muffled by his hand over my mouth. All the trashing in the world wasn’t enough to break their hold as the other two males descended upon me, as if they were willing to take me right there in the middle of camp.

“I’ll thank you to take your hands off my princess,” drawled a voice from behind me.

The eyes of the three men surrounding me went wide at whatever figure stood behind us, all three of them scurrying off to gods knew where. I turn slowly to face whoever my rescuer was, and I’m met with a mountain of sheer muscle and bright red siphons.

“Cassian!” I cried running to throw my arms around the burly warrior, I hadn’t seen him in over a year.

He hugs me tighter, the kind of bear hug only he could provide. It was clear to me that he missed me just as much as I had missed him. When he releases me he bends down to cup my face, and wipe away the tears I didn’t know had fallen.

“Princess, what are you doing here? Where is your brother?” he asked, brows furrowed.

“Rhys brought me here but he’s gone now, he’s gone back to his own camp but he’ll be back tomorrow,” I say as Cassian continues to wipe away the fresh tears, this time tears of happiness and not fear.

Cassain stands up as if to assess for danger before tossing an arm around me, “Stay with me, I’ll keep you safe. Where is Azriel? I was told he was injured,” he asks, remaining vigilant.

“He’s okay, I was just getting him fresh bandages,” I report, pointing Cassian towards the medic tent.

“He let you leave his tent?!” he balks corralling me inside the tent.

“Uh, no. Not really,” I laugh nervously.

He rolls his eyes and grabs a few armfuls of bandages before shoving them into my arms. We weave through drunken men who do a good job of staying at least three feet away from me, no doubt seeing The Lord of Bloodshed trailing me.

I throw open the flap of Azriel’s tent, running to his side at once.

“Oh thank the mother,” he sighs in relief upon seeing me.

I laugh at his fussing and begin dressing his wound, “Look who I found,” I say nodding my head to where Cassian stands behind me.

“I believe I found you,” Cassian corrects me, sheer amusement in his voice.

“Cass!” Azriel beams as his brother gives him an affectionate smack on the shoulder.

“Brother you look a little worse for wear,” Cassian chuckles looking at the wound I was currently cleaning.

“I’ve been better,” Azriel winces as I wrap the wound in a clean bandage.

“I heard what happened and came as soon as I could. Ran right into your princess here, causing trouble as usual,” the warrior chortles beside me making me roll my eyes.

“What?” Azriel asked, more alert than he previously was.

“You were right, the men out there are assholes,” I scoff, tying off the fresh bandage.

“Did they touch you?” he inquired, his eyes ablaze.

“Az it’s fine Cass was there,” I assure him placing a hand on his shoulder feeling the palpable tension there, like he was ready to pounce.

“Y/n did they put their hands on you?” he asks again, this time more unyielding than before.

“Yes but look at me, I'm fine!” I say with an exasperated sigh.

Azriel’s eyes flit to Cassian as he extends his hand to his brother, like he needs support.

“Cassian help me up,” he orders, already scooting to the edge of the cot.

“Azriel don’t you dare!” I shout smacking his chest. “Enough with the territorial, Illyrian nonsense! You’re injured, you’re going to get yourself killed!”

The shadowsingers body slumps back into bed in defeat with a huff, clearly upset he couldn’t pummel the shit out of a couple of lowly males who weren’t worth it in the first place.

Cassian’s chuckle reverberated through the tent, “Good to see you two picking up right where you left off,” he joked, remembering all the times we had similar quarrels.

It was the early hours of morning, and while the sun was still hiding behind the mountains, it would be rearing its ugly head soon enough. The partying and cheering from outside the tent had died down. Men either passing out drunk or choosing sleep over thoughts of what might happen tomorrow.

Cassian snored softly in the corner of the tent in the chair he took up. He had elected to stay behind and watch over us at Azriel’s request and I was smart enough to not argue with two Illyrians.

I layed on Azriel’s chest, waiting for sleep to claim me but it never came. Sleep didn’t find Azriel as well, his hand twirling through the strands of my unbound hair as we sat in silence.

“You know what kept me alive out there on that battlefield after I was injured?” Azriel whispered into the night.

“A healer that I’ll be paying a very handsome bonus to?” I laugh squeezing my arms around him a bit.

“No, you” he said seriously rubbing my shoulder

“Me?” I gawk, sitting up so I could look him in the eye.

“Yes, you,” he smiled, pressing a kiss to my forehead. “When I was downed they thought I was dead. Horses and men clamored over me. It was all so loud, such a blur but then I closed my eyes and there you were.” he said looking at the canopy of the tent, as if remembering the event.

“It was a memory from the first time I saw you, before I even knew who you were. You were standing in the snow waiting for Rhys and your mother and there was snow all over your hair. It was the first snow of the year and you were entranced just like you always are.” He chuckles, pulling me closer. “But I knew then and there that I had to open my eyes. Had to get up. Even if it was just to see your face one more time, kiss your lips, tell you I love you. I woke up in this tent reeling from it. I could’ve sworn you were here, in the vision I felt your touch. And then hours later you storm in here with your fussing and worrying.” he says.

I feel a tear roll down my face as I cup his face, pulling his gaze from the canopy to me. I pulled his letter out of my dress pocket, the paper flopping about from how many times it had been folded and unfolded.

“I kept this letter with me every single day. I must’ve read it a hundred times, hells I might even have it memorized.” I laugh, shaking the paper in my hands. “I never once gave up hope that I would see you again. No matter what happens after tonight I still won’t give up hope. I know I’ll find you again.”

Azriel chuckles, pressing his forehead to mine, “I’d crawl home to you if I had to princess,” he says resolutely.

I wake the next morning to the sound of men moving about outside the tent and an empty cot. The covers before me are still disheveled from where Azriel slipped out from under me. I threw the blankets off the bed and pulled my cloak from where I set it last night, fastening it to my shoulders.

When I toss open the flaps of the tent I’m momentarily blinded by the bright sun before the sight of men collecting their weapons and armor come into focus. My eyes darted frantically for a trace of Azriel, surely he couldn’t have gone far, surely he wasn’t going to fight today.

“Azriel!” I call out roaming around looking for a flash of a blue siphon.

Heavy footsteps come up behind me grabbing my arm and I turn around to be met with Cassian. I looked back to the tent and realized he had been keeping watch outside.

“Cass, where is he?” I ask him, but all I’m met with is a heavy gaze from Cassian.

“Y/n?” calls a voice from behind me and I turn to see my father, mother and brother walking towards us.

My mother runs over to me taking me into her arms and holding me close. It was clear to me that they had found Rhys and instantly questioned why I wasn’t under his care.

“Thank the gods,” my mother breathed taking in my unharmed appearance.

“You smell like that Illyrian brute,” my father sneered and I knew right away he ment Azriel.

“He could have been dying,” I reply with equal venom, my gaze narrowing at the man who went through such great lengths to keep us apart.

“Of course, why do you think I sent him to the frontlines again today?” he scoffed, already turning his attention to the hordes of men preparing for battle.

My blood turned to ice in my veins and my heart plummeted.

“What?” I cried looking at Rhys who wore a solemn look on his face. “Rhys, you knew?”

My brother lets out a shaky breath, “I knew before we even arrived last night. When he tried to get you to leave I used daemati to tell him he was being sent to the front lines. He knew it would be the last time he ever saw you.” he confessed.

He knew.

Haste clouds my mind and I turn to run in the same direction with the rest of the men, my father and brother joining their ranks without another word. My mother catches me around the shoulders and pulls me into her embrace as my knees hit the muddy ground beneath us.

“No, no, no, no no!” I scream trying to run to the front, as if I could keep Azriel from death myself.

“The battle is not yet over sweetheart, he may still live,” My mother coos stroking my hair.

“He was injured mother,” my words come out as sobs as I cling to her cloak.

“Have faith,” she pleads, kneeling on the ground with me, trying to calm me as best she can.

“Azriel,” I cry. “My Azriel.”

I give into my mothers embrace and after a while she ushers me toward a tent. She wipes my face with a cool towel trying to calm my swollen eyes, but it’s no use. Every war cry, and ear rupturing blast feels like the one that takes Azriel’s life. Each one sends me back into a mess of shallow breaths and tears.

Only when the battle cries fade, and the blasts of siphons and raw power cease do my tears stop. Soldiers and Illyrains come filtering back to the camp, some whole, some being carried by their peers. My brother and Cassain are the first to find us. Rhys was unharmed, but Cassian was wheeled to a healer immediately. Thankfully, she claimed he would be alright.

I took to the masses, weaving through men making their way back occasionally running into some as my eyes were focused on the skies. Searching amongst the hordes of Illyrians flying in. If Azriel was anywhere it would be there.

“Azriel!” I shouted, my voice going hoarse from the screaming I had been doing.

More and more Illyrians fly overhead, not one of them resembling my Azriel. If he was amongst them he would see me standing out like a sore thumb amongst the rabble, going against the grain of everyone before me.

“AZRIEL!” I call out even louder, cupping my hands around my mouth as if it will help.

“Y/N!”

I hear my voice being called, not from the skies, but from the ground. My eyes snap to the crowds before me before I see a pair of wings over the top of a million heads.

“AZRIEL?!” I call out moving in the direction of the voice that called to me.

Then I see him, my Azriel. The wound on his leg is split open and his wings are pierced with a dozen arrows which explains his inability to fly. But he’s there, and he’s whole, and alive.

“Y/n!” he calls out to me again.

I pick up the skirts of my dress running to him, my shoulders bumping into all the men I weave around. I jump into his arms feeling him pick me up, pulling me impossibly close.

“Oh Az,” I breathe running a hand through his hair as my feet hit the ground again, his eyes assessing me for any injury. “My love, I thought I would never see you again,” I cried.

His thumbs wipe away my tears as he cups my face, “Death, nor a thousand evil men could keep me from you,” he smiled before pulling me into his chest.

As we hold each other, the chaos around us fades into the background. For a moment, time stands still, and all that matters is that we are together. He was here, in my arms and he was alive. Both of us were, and there were many more years ahead of us. Many, many more years.

Epilogue: third person pov

Rhysand and Feyre stood in the living room of the townhouse. The world outside was near silent as Velaris slept, having spent the day celebrating solstice. Even the faelights in the home seemed to have dimmed. Members of the Inner Circle worked to clean the dessert plates off the table where they had their magnificent feast.

“And that’s their story,” Rhys finished saying to his mate, rubbing her shoulder as they continued to admire the scene before them.

On the large couch before them y/n was asleep on top of an even sleepier Azriel, his arms, legs and wings all but draping off the edges just to keep her comfortable.

When Feyre stumbled into the adorable scene it had occurred to her that she had never heard the story of how the two came to be. Rhysand was more than happy to tell her the tale of forbidden love and near death experiences.

“They’ve been through so much,” Feyre said, leaning into Rhysand’s touch.

“They truly have,” Rhys nods, pressing a kiss to his mate's temple. “But now they get to eat too much turkey every solstice and skip out on dish duty so I think it worked out okay.” he chuckles.

Feyre slaps him on the chest playfully but laughs right along with them watching as the pair lounges on the couch, mouths open and completely and utterly relaxed. The High Lord and Lady turn from the living room to rejoin the rest of their family in the kitchen. There would be time to make fun of the princess and the shadowsinger tomorrow.

They had all the time in the world.

my masterlist

Permanent Taglist: @fides25, @dissociated-always @crystalferret202 , @kennedy-brooke , @sunshineangel-reads , @lilah-asteria , @evergreenlark , @cheneyq

Taglist: @andreperez11

#azriel x reader #azriel shadowsinger #azriel acotar #azriel angst #azriel s #azriel smut #azriel spymaster #azriel x you #azriel #azriel x reader angst #azriel x reader fluff #azriel x reader smut

218 notes · View notes

lunaviee · 2 days

Text

ushijima headcanons bc bro needs more appreciation 🤗🤗💗💗💗💗 (and bc im rewatching haikyuu and im actually going INSANE.)

i feel like he kinda gained a habit of reaching for your hand a lot. idk why but he’ll stare at it for a minute and then just grab it wordlessly

1000% the kind of guy to get you “just because” flowers. i think he’ll see them at a local market and then make it his life’s mission to make you a pretty bouquet

he’s actually really good at cooking. he enjoys it, especially when he sees the glow in your eyes when you try his food

enjoys taking the scenic route when you guys take a drive somewhere. not only does he find the landscape beautiful, but it gives him more time to talk or even just be in your presence

speaking of driving, he definitely does that move where he puts his hand on your headrest when he’s backing out🤗🙏

i feel like he can read you really well. like if you’re uncomfortable somewhere or maybe just not feeling well, he tries to get you out of that situation

actually kinda going back to the hand thing, he rlly likes your touch. it’s so warm against his skin and he feels so at ease with you around

i feel like he’s very academically smart, his grades are impeccable and he’s always helping you in your classes. but social/street smarts? yeah umm not so much. it takes a little while to adjust at the beginning of your relationship but you soon find how well of a match you are for each other

back to the “reads you well” part, he also remembers everything about you. your order at your local coffee shop, why you don’t like certain foods, and will never forget a special date

he also likes spending money on you, insisting you buy that new shade of lip tint even if it looks just like the one at home, because with him around, you shouldn’t have to worry about a single penny

this one’s kinda silly but i just KNOW he’s the type of mf to bring in all the groceries in one trip

always sends you “good morning” and “goodnight” texts. but since it’s ushijima, it’s kinda like “goodnight, sleep well❤️” a little basic but trust me, he’s much better at showing his love in person

speaking of, his love language is definitely acts of service and probably quality time. whatever he can do to make your day a little better, he’ll do it

he takes such good candid pictures of you it’s actually insane. you genuinely don’t know how he even takes these without you noticing but somehow they’re always amazing

also, he doesn’t like deleting pictures of you. something about it doesn’t feel right to him so he’ll have a handful of pics that have your face all blurry or cropped out, but it’s still you so why should he delete it??

pls i just know his embrace is so secure and warm….. like you’ll ask for a hug and even if he doesn’t always understand how of why his physical touch makes you feel so special but he never declines

i know this is cliche, but he’s obviously strong af so picking you up is no problem and he’ll often do it if you get tired of walking. he also insists you sit on his back while he does pushups. his words not mine🤞🤞

cat lover. like one day you two went to a pet store to buy some treats for moms dog and he makes eye contact with a gray cat.

you guys forgot about the treats and ended up buying a bunch of cat stuff

✮ — haikyuu might bring back my motivation to write….

#haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #ushijima x reader #wakatoshi x reader #ushijima wakatoshi x reader #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu!! x reader #haikyuu headcanons #ushijima fluff

158 notes · View notes

seulrinnie-rinrin · 2 days

Text

Craving You

SUMMARY | When you accidently send a nude of yourself to Jongho, he can't help but look and start to crave you. The only thing standing in his way: your friendship. PAIRING | Jongho/Reader GENRE | non-idol!Jongho, friends to lovers trope, smut with no plot, protected sex (wrap it up everyone!), fingering, vaginal sex, RATING | Mature LENGTH | 5066 words AUTHOR’S NOTE | I’m such a sucker for the Friends to Lovers Trope lolol.

Jongho didn't mean to look.

But that picture you sent him was just so… You were looking at the camera like you'd never seen it before. Your cheeks were flushed and your skin was glowing in the light, as if it had never been more alive. And the fact that your fingers were grazing the top of your panties…

If that wasn't enough to turn any man's head, then nothing ever would be. He hadn't meant for this to happen—hadn't even intended on seeing it when he took a quick glance at his phone while checking his messages—but there it was, staring back at him, tempting him, teasing him with those dark eyes, and suddenly, he couldn't help but want it.

More than anything, Jongho wanted to see your body moving beneath him. Wanted to know what color you tasted like. What it felt like to touch every inch of you, slowly working his way down from your lips until he found himself between your legs. Then, after giving you everything he had to give, he would do whatever it took to make sure that you never forgot this moment, no matter how hard you tried to push it away.

Forbidden, because you're both supposed to be friends, and also because he should never want to take something that doesn't belong to him. But when he realizes that all of these things are exactly why he wants you so much, it becomes impossible to deny his true feelings for you.

He dropped his phone on the bed beside him and leaned against the headboard, trying desperately to think of something else besides the thought of running his tongue over the hot spot where your clit sat, letting his teeth gently graze its sensitive edges. If he could just get some sleep, maybe by morning, the desire would be gone. Or at least, the temptation. But the second he closed his eyes, all he could see was you: face flushed, thighs spread, red lips parted as he licked his way up from your clit to your mouth. All he could hear was your moans as he pushed his fingers inside of you, pumping them deep into your pussy and moaning as he watched your muscles tighten around them. All he could feel was the warmth radiating off of your naked body as he buried his face between your breasts, inhaling your scent until he had finally made you cum.

This was wrong, so very, very wrong. So, so, wrong. It wouldn't be right for either one of you.

His phone vibrated and he saw a text message from you come through, and though he really shouldn't read it, Jongho had a feeling that if he ignored it, it might not go away. Not that he knew what he would say anyway; all he knew was that he needed to talk to you about this, and he needed to do it now.

So he picked up his phone again and opened the message:

You - OMG Jongho! That picture wasn't meant for you! I swear, I totally meant to send it to Yunho. Please delete?!

His jaw clenched and he closed his eyes tightly. Of course you would have sent it to Yunho. Why wouldn't you? After all, the two of you were hooking up with each other. You told Jongho that it was no strings attached relationship, that Yunho just wanted to be friends with benefits.

But Jongho knew you. He knew that you were crushing on Yunho and had been for a long time. He also knew that the two of you didn't just hook up once or twice. No, you had hooked up a lot. Way more times than he cared to count. The two of you might have been dating, for all Jongho cared. You were lying to yourself if you believed otherwise.

Not that he was mad. Well, actually, yes, he was mad. But not at you. Mostly at himself for getting sucked into this. For allowing himself to fall for someone who had been nothing but his friends for years. But he was tired of fighting this attraction. Tired of pretending that it didn't exist. So, he turned off his phone and tossed it across the room, cursing silently as it hit the wall and bounced onto the floor.

Tomorrow, he decided, he would just ignore it. Ignore you. See if that helped. He hated to admit it, but his feelings for you weren't going anywhere anytime soon. They were there in the pit of his stomach every time you smiled at him, the blush rising in your cheeks whenever he looked at you too long, the way your voice trailed off when he asked you questions, and the small sparkle in your eyes whenever you looked at him like he was the best thing that had ever happened to you. He liked being close to you.

He sighed and picked up his phone, opening his messages and typing out a quick response:

Jongho - Out of sight and out of mind. I deleted it. Don't worry about it.

Then, he turned his phone off and put it back on the nightstand. He tried to fall asleep but the thought of you naked was already ingrained in his brain.

In your defense, you weren't entirely in your right mind when you sent Jongho that picture. You had meant to send it to Yunho but somehow managed to type in the wrong person's name, hitting send before you realized your mistake. It must have been the wine you drank earlier that day. Maybe it was the multiple glasses of wine that you had consumed throughout the night. Whatever the reason, by the time you figured out your error, the message was already sent. There was no taking it back.

And when you got Jongho's message saying that he deleted it, you felt a weight lift off of your shoulders. Just thinking about it made you sigh in relief, and when you woke up in the middle of the night with wet dreams about the two of you fucking, the guilt from sending that picture plagued you for hours.

"Ugh," you groaned, pulling the blankets over your head and ignoring the pounding in your head. "Just shut up."

Your head ached too much to care about your stupid hormones, so you rolled over and let yourself slip back into a restless slumber, hoping that when you woke up tomorrow, you would be able to forget about what you had done last night. Unfortunately, the thought that was playing on repeat in your mind refused to leave you alone, and soon, you were tossing and turning restlessly as images of you and Jongho romping together filled your thoughts.

"Shit!" you swore loudly as you sat up in bed, throwing your pillow to the ground. How could you think of your best friend in that way? You never had thoughts of Jongho that way before. Sure, you enjoyed hanging out with him, and there were days when you wished you could crawl into his lap and spend hours listening to him tell you stories or sing. You enjoyed teasing him mercilessly and getting to witness the smile on his face when you succeeded. But sexual fantasies involving him? Those were completely new territory.

"What the fuck is wrong with me?" you cried, covering your face with your hands. God, you needed to get a grip. Maybe it's the alcohol. Yeah, it had to be the alcohol. Maybe you should call up Yunho and have him just fuck you senseless so that you forget about those fantasies of Jongho. Get it out of your system. Make yourself forget. Surely that would work. Right?

No, that wasn't going to work. Although it was an accident that you sent that nude, you couldn't help but think of what Jongho thought. Did he like it? Did he enjoy the view? Could he imagine what you looked like naked? Were his dreams filled with the two of you, pleasuring each other? Was he jerking off right now thinking about what it would be like to have your pussy wrapped around his-

Nononono. You needed to get a grip. You headed towards the shower, determined to rinse your body clean and pretend that last night never happened.

After a shower and exhausted beyond belief, you went about your day. You met up with the guys, wishing that Jongho wasn't there because you didn't want to crawl into an embarrassing hole. When they suggested that you have a few drinks with them, you gladly agreed, deciding to keep it casual. This was probably a good idea. A little drink here and there would probably take the edge off of those bad thoughts about your best friend.

"Something happened between you two?" Hongjoong asked as he looked over at you and Jongho. The both of you were sitting on opposite ends of the table, avoiding each other's gazes.

"Ya'll acting weird." Mingi muttered, leaning forward on the table. "The best friends aren't even sitting next to each other. Something happened, didn't it?"

"What happened?" San asked next to you, putting an arm around your shoulder. "Are you okay?"

You hesitated for a minute and let out a sigh, leaning to whisper in his ear. "I accidently sent Jongho a nude photo last night."

San froze for a second before dropping his hand from your shoulder and shaking his head in laughter. "No way. You're serious?"

You eyed Jongho, realizing that he got up to use the restroom. "I didn't mean to send it to him. I accidentally typed his name instead of Yunho's."

Hongjoong laughed softly, nodding his head. "Well, damn girl. I guess we know why he was looking so depressed today."

"Hush." You muttered, the rest of the table going into fits of laughter. You hid your face behind your hands, waiting for the laughing to die down before you explained the situation to everyone. When they finished laughing, you spoke. "Listen, this is just an unfortunate accident. He's already deleted it. We just need to get through this week, okay? I'm sure things will calm down after that."

"Yeah, don't worry," Wooyoung said, wiping tears from his eyes. "Things always get better after this."

They nodded their heads and when Jongho returned to the table, he just sat down and resumed talking with the others without acknowledging you.

You knew it would be okay by next week. You always had random fights with Jongho and it was usually resolved by next week. That's what friends did. They argued. They fought. Then, they made up and everything was fine again.

Why couldn't you just give him the benefit of the doubt this time?

Wiping his sweaty palms on his pants, Jongho leaned back in his chair as he watched you joke with the rest of the guys. Your hair was wet, curling slightly under the lights of the bar as you shook your head in amusement. He stared at you for a while, wondering what it would feel like to run his fingers through your hair. To kiss your forehead. To watch you sleep.

And then he snapped out of it.

Looking at you now, you appeared so happy and carefree, despite what had happened earlier. Jongho bit his lip as he stared at you, feeling his heart beat erratically against his chest. What the hell was happening to him? One minute, he had been angry at you and angry at himself for giving in to temptation and wanting you. Now, he couldn't stop staring at you and he didn't know how to act around you anymore.

"Are you going crazy?" Yunho asked him, as they both watched you in an animated conversation with Seonghwa and Yeosang.

"What?" Jongho blinked in surprise, having forgotten that Yunho was there. "No, I'm not going crazy."

"Sure you aren't." Yunho muttered. "Seeing any kind of nude of your best frien-"

"She was supposed to send it to you, you know?" Jongho cut in before his friend could say anything else. "She mixed up her names and sent it to me instead."

"It doesn't matter who she sent it to." Yunho shrugged his shoulders. "It's not like we're dating or anything. She could've sent it to anyone."

Wooyoung sighed. "Jongho, bro. Who cares who sent it to? Y/N isn't dating any of us. You ended up being the recipient. Things happen."

Hongjoong nodded, patting him on the back. "So who cares if you saw a nude picture of your best friend? Why does it bother you?"

"Because..." Jongho trailed off as he frowned, realizing that none of them really understood what he was going through. "I like her."

Hongjoong, Wooyoung and Yunho all exchanged glances before bursting into laughter.

"Well that changes everything." Hongjoong said, clapping his hands together. "So what are you gonna do?"

"About what?" Jongho shot him a confused glance, which caused the rest of them to burst into more laughter.

"Don't be dense," Yunho mumbled, holding his stomach as he wiped tears from his eyes. "Why don't you ask her out? Have a date with her? Show her how much you care?"

"I do care." Jongho replied softly. "A lot."

"But does she?" Wooyoung countered. "Does Y/N like you? Or does she only like you as a friend?"

Hongjoong slapped Wooyoung's arm. "Stop! Don't say that! We're trying to cheer Jongho up here, remember? Don't make it worse."

"Do you think I stand a chance?" Jongho whispered. "Will she actually agree to go out with me?"

Yunho smirked. "As long as you're willing to admit your feelings for her, I'm sure she'll agree to go out with you."

"Really?" Jongho asked hopefully.

Yunho gave him a nod. "I've seen how she looks at you. And hey, she talks about you all the time when we're together. Kind of made me jealous, if I'm being honest."

"I think I may have a shot." Jongho breathed out slowly, relieved.

"Go for it, man." Wooyoung added, smiling at him. "You deserve happiness. If Y/N makes you happy, you gotta grab it."

"We're rooting for you." Yunho smiled as he patted him on the back. "Remember, the worst thing that can happen is rejection."

Jongho nodded his head, understanding exactly what Yunho meant. While he desperately wanted Y/N to say yes, he also worried that she might turn him down. There was no way to prepare for such a thing, especially since they'd been best friends for so long. If Y/N turned him down, he'd hate himself for wanting her so badly, and he'd hate himself for doing something that would cause her pain.

No, he needed to stop worrying.

He glanced over at you again, watching you laugh with the rest of the group. Watching you made his heart flutter and the nerves that had settled in his stomach started to dissolve away. For some reason, seeing you smile and appear happy again made it easier for him to breathe.

Jongho took a deep breath and stood up, making his way over to where you were seated. Seeing you sitting with the rest of the guys, he wondered whether he should sit down or not. After what seemed like forever, Jongho took his seat across from you, his heart beating rapidly against his chest as he took in every detail about you, trying to memorize you.

"Jongho, you wouldn't believe this crazy story that Mingi was telling us." You exclaimed, taking a sip of your beer. "It sounds like something straight out of a soap opera."

"Oh yeah?" Jongho teased. "So, what's this ridiculous plot?"

"Hmm...well, basically..." Mingi began but Jongho drowned out his voice as he hesitantly reached for your hand. Taking your fingers in his own, he looked at you to see your reaction. After several seconds, you didn't pull away, allowing him to hold onto your hand. "The main character and the secondary characters meet and end up falling in love. It's full of drama and emotion and lots of crying and whining."

Jongho grinned, his entire body relaxing at the warmth radiating from your skin. "Is that how love stories normally go?"

"Pretty much." Mingi admitted. "I wish my love life could be like that though. No headaches or misunderstandings. Just love and happiness."

"Me too." Jongho breathed out, squeezing your hand gently.

Mingi, Yeosang, San, and Seonghwa couldn't help but notice the way Jongho was holding your hand. They all noticed the way his eyes kept wandering to yours and the way his expression was almost desperate. Even they couldn't help but wonder what he was thinking. Was he thinking about asking you out?

After several minutes, they gathered into a conversation, leaving you and Jongho out of it. But when they left to get more drinks, leaving the two of you alone, you found yourself leaning towards him, hoping that he would lean in too.

"Jongho?" You whispered softly. He turned his head to stare at you, your gaze locking onto his. "Can I ask you something?"

Jongho swallowed hard, unable to take his eyes off of you. He wanted nothing more than to drag you close and kiss you senseless. So he nodded, trying to find the words to say to you.

"What?"

"Did you...what were you thinking about...when I sent you that picture?" You looked at him, uncertainty in your eyes. He wished that you weren't looking at him with those sad eyes of yours. Those sad eyes made him want to make it all better.

"About what?" Jongho croaked out.

"Last night. When I sent you that picture by accident." You paused, placing your hand over his. "Were you thinking about me?"

Jongho looked down at your hand resting on his and then raised his gaze back up to your face. "Of course I was thinking about you. How could I not?" He placed his other hand over top of yours, intertwining your fingers together. "Why wouldn't I?"

"Because I..." You took a deep breath, as you waited for him to reply. "We're friends and friends don't think of each other like that. Right?"

"Do you still want to be friends?" Jongho asked you, squeezing your hands. "Because I don't want our friendship to change because of this. Not when I...I want more."

"More?" You repeated softly.

"Yeah." Jongho closed his eyes tightly, unsure if you were going to agree to go out with him. "I want us to become more than just friends. After seeing that picture, my mind has been flooded with thoughts of you. Thoughts that friends shouldn't have of each other. Thoughts of kissing you and touching you and..."

He never got to finish speaking once he felt your lips on his. His entire body tingled as your lips pressed against his, causing a fire to burn within him. Without warning, Jongho crushed his mouth against yours, forcing your lips apart and claiming your lips with his own. His heart was racing, his mind consumed by the need to kiss you again. To feel your soft lips against his own, to feel the warmth of your body pressed against his. To feel the sparks that he knew were running between you.

"Yeah..." You breathed out. "I've had those thoughts too...of kissing you and touching you and..." Your voice drifted off, as Jongho captured your lips with his again. Your hands ran up his arms, sending chills throughout his body.

"God, my eyes. My poor eyes!" You heard Wooyoung gasp behind you. "Go get a room already!"

"Shut up!" You laughed loudly, pulling away from Jongho. Jongho let out a laugh, pulling you up from your seat so he could wrap his arms around you.

"Should we...go to my place now?" He whispered into your ear.

"Yes." You gasped.

"Ohhhh." San let out a laugh. "I knew this was going to happen."

Yeosang nodded next to him. "Ahhhh, young love. Too cute."

"Have fun, stay safe and use protection." Hongjoong called out, earning another round of laughter.

"Just shut up and leave us alone." You yelled back, giving them all a wave.

"Bye!" Mingi shouted, raising his glass in the air. "See you later!"

They all waved goodbye as you and Jongho hurried out of the lounge, weaving your way through the crowd. As soon as the doors closed behind you, Jongho wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close. He kissed you one more time before leading you out of the parking lot, heading towards his apartment.

"Home sweet home." He sighed happily, leading you inside and closing the door behind him. He snaked his arm around your waist, pulling you close to him. "So where were we?"

"Kissing..." You breathed out, staring into his dark brown eyes.

Jongho chuckled, bringing his lips closer to yours. His entire body tingled at the mere thought of kissing you again. Of feeling your lips on his. Feeling the heat of your body pressed against his own. It was all he ever wanted. All he ever dreamed about. All he ever hoped for.

His lips brushed against yours lightly, barely grazing your mouth with his. He lingered there for several seconds before drawing back slightly.

"What thoughts did you have of me?" You ask him, breaking the silence.

Jongho smiled, reaching his free hand up to brush a strand of hair behind your ear. "Good ones." He whispered, trailing his finger along your cheek. "Thoughts of you lying naked in bed, letting me explore every inch of your body."

"And what else?" You purred, pushing your body against him.

"Ohhh..." Jongho moaned softly. "Those naughty thoughts of mine involve..."

He trailed off as you brought your hand up to his mouth, planting light kisses against his palm.

"Tell me." You breathed out, closing your eyes. "Please."

"I was thinking about what it would be like having you underneath me." He let out. "I was thinking about how good it would feel to feel your soft skin under my fingertips. How good it would feel to have you pressing against me, begging me to fill you with my cock. How hot and wet your pussy would be and how amazing it would feel to make you come."

"Yes." You moaned, grinding against him.

"Ohhh." Jongho groaned, pressing his lips against yours again. "I want you so bad."

You shivered, breaking away from his lips. "Me too. So much." You bit your lip. "I can't wait any longer."

Jongho nodded, moving towards his bedroom, leading you along the way. "Well, let's hurry up and do something about that." He murmured, pulling you closer to him as he pushed open the door.

As soon as you entered the bedroom, Jongho wrapped his arms around you, trapping you against the wall. Leaning forward, he brought his lips back to yours, crushing his mouth against yours roughly. Your knees buckled slightly as he pressed himself against you, wrapping his arms tightly around you. Jongho broke away from your kiss long enough to rip your shirt open, throwing it aside.

"I can't wait anymore either." He breathed out. "I need to touch you. Need to feel your body pressed against mine. Want to taste your lips again."

Jongho's lips trailed down your neck, his teeth grazing your skin before biting down gently. Your fingers dug into his shoulders as his mouth travelled downwards, nipping and sucking along your collarbone. His lips pressed harder against your skin, making your entire body tingle.

"God..." You moaned out. "Jongho..."

"Need to feel you underneath me." Jongho continued, bringing his hands up to cup your breasts. "God...you feel so fucking good against me."

"Don't stop." You breathed out.

He smiled as he reached his hands down to unhook your bra, throwing it aside. As soon as your breasts came into view, Jongho's lips immediately latched onto your nipple.

He sucked on your nipple gently, eliciting a moan from you. As he did this, he brought his hand up to caress your other breast. As he played with your nipples, you began to feel a familiar ache building within you. With a groan, you dug your nails into his shoulder blades.

"Are you okay?" Jongho asked you, worried about your reaction.

"Y-yeah." You answered quickly, biting your lip as your body became even more sensitive. "Just...just feels so good."

Jongho nodded, continuing to suckle on your breast while massaging your other one. His fingers moved across your chest, teasing the sides of your breast, slowly working their way up until they reached your chin. With a slight flick of his wrist, he tilted your head up towards him.

With one quick motion, he brought his lips to meet yours, his tongue darting past your lips to dance with yours. His fingers intertwined with yours, keeping them both locked in place as he began to trail his fingers down your body. One hand slid down to your stomach, tickling you softly.

The other hand found its way back up to your breast, pinching your nipple lightly as his thumb rolled it between his fingers. Your whole body tingled at the feeling of pleasure coursing through you.

Jongho pulled back slightly, taking a deep breath. "Do you want me to stop?" He asked you softly.

"No." You shook your head. "Don't stop."

He nodded, closing his eyes briefly before pulling his hand away. Reaching down, he slid your pants off your hips, allowing them to fall to the floor. "Like this?" He breathed out, leaning down to capture your lips with his once again.

You let out a moan as his fingers slipped between your legs, stroking you gently as his lips traveled down your neck. Once his lips met your chest, he nibbled on your skin lightly. You felt your body tighten slightly at the touch of his tongue as it traced your clavicle.

"God..." You breathed out, pushing yourself closer to him.

"Does it feel good?" He asked you, nibbling on your earlobe.

"Ohhh...so good." You moaned, running your fingers through his hair. "Fuck...please don't stop."

"Don't worry." Jongho promised, returning his attention to your neck. "This is just getting started."

With that said, Jongho slowly lifted his shirt over his head, tossing it aside. He then took his boxers off, leaving himself completely naked in front of you. He stood straight, facing you as you watched him intently. When he saw that you were looking at him, he placed his hands on your cheeks, tilting your face up towards his. His eyes bore into yours as he leaned down, capturing your lips with his once again. His fingers trailed down your cheek, cupping your jaw as he pulled you closer to him.

Once your lips parted, Jongho wasted no time deepening the kiss. Your fingers tangled themselves in his hair as he forced his tongue into your mouth. With each passing second, your passion grew, causing you to grab hold of his arms, gripping them tightly as he thrust his tongue against yours. Your entire body was now tingling with desire, begging for release.

Jongho broke away from the kiss, panting heavily as he looked into your eyes. He ran his hands down your thighs, parting them and then grabbing one of the condoms from his nightstand drawer. Opening the package, he sheathed himself with ease, preparing himself to enter you.

"Are you ready?" He breathed out.

"Mmm..." You breathed out. "Yes...please."

"Good." He replied before pressing his lips to yours once again.

With one final glance into your eyes, Jongho lowered himself down, positioning himself between your legs. He raised himself up slightly, pausing for a moment as he searched your eyes. Your fingers twined themselves into his hair as you waited patiently for him to move. After a few moments, he began to slide into you. Each thrust sent waves of pleasure throughout your body.

"Ahhh...." You moaned loudly, pressing your forehead against his shoulder.

Jongho hummed as he continued to thrust into you. Every movement caused a new wave of sensation to wash over you. You had never felt anything quite like it. You couldn't believe how incredible it felt. He brought his lips back to your ear, whispering softly.

"You feel so good." He moaned. "So damn good."

Your legs tightened around his hips as he began to speed up his movements. His lips grazed your ear, his warm breath brushing against your skin. "Feels good, doesn't it?" He whispered, causing you to moan again.

"Jongho...oh god..." You breathed out, digging your fingernails into his shoulders.

Jongho closed his eyes, feeling the heat radiating from your body. He knew how badly you needed him. He knew that you were dying to come. And he could tell by the noises escaping your throat that you were close to climaxing. All he had to do was continue to pump his hips, slowly increasing the pace. In a matter of seconds, he would drive you over the edge. That thought alone made him harder than ever.

In response to the sound of his name coming from your lips, Jongho picked up the pace even further, pressing his lips firmly against your ear.

"Come for me, baby." He growled out, pushing even deeper into you. "Come hard for me."

With those words, Jongho's hips began to slam into you faster and faster. Soon enough, he felt your walls clamp down around his cock, holding him there, preventing him from pulling out. With another moan, he exploded inside of you, filling the condom with his semen. Once he finished, he pulled out of you, breathing heavily. Your eyes remained fixed on him, watching him as he pulled the used condom off of his cock. He tossed it to the side before lowering himself to the mattress beside you.

You flipped him over, moving to straddle him as you kissed him deeply. As you did this, you could feel his hardening cock beneath you. You smirked, bringing your lips back to his ear.

"Guess we're not done yet." You whispered seductively. "I'll let you fuck me raw if you keep going."

With a grin, Jongho grabbed your ass, squeezing it tightly as he slid into you. "Whatever you want, baby. Anything you want."

#ateez #ateez imagines #ateez scenarios #ateez fanfic #ateez fic #ateez fanfics #ateez smut #ateez stories #ateez jongho #jongho #choi jongho #ateez jongho smut #jongho smut #jongho x reader

104 notes · View notes

paradoxbeta · 3 days

Note

what do you think the ancients looked like under their masks?

ANON THANK YOU FOR ASKING I COULD CRY TEARS OF JOY

The short answer: Human-like, but dubiously. Very colorful, ornate, and diverse. Heavy on body modification: piercings, implants, tubes of all sorts, and dramatic face/eye changes are everywhere. It's hard to describe one thing they all are, because they're each so different.

The long answer: (my ocs are here!)

Okay, so, important bare minimums: They can have pretty much any skin tone, and come in all of the patterns and markings you can think of (whether they were born with them or had them added.) The default Ancient eye is exactly like a humans, but people can and often do get changes to their pupils and sclera/eye color. They have "hair" that sort of looks like worm grass. I figure some kinda splatoon inkling type logic applies when taking into mind haircuts and buzzes and all that. They generally have elven, goat-like, or other non-human type ears. Most if not all of them have openings in their bodies for tubes a la cyberpunk, because Ancient fashion gonna Ancient fashion.

Now for the fun/personalized part. Their faces!

Ancients come in a range from the most humanoid to the least. Note that "animaloid" is an EXTREMELY nebulous term and not exclusive to the one shown in the picture. I'm not yet sure how something like this would come about. I like to think this is a result of generations upon generations of extreme genome modification, or "animaloid" Ancients are a subspecies/branch off of whatever the humanoid Ancients are, OR they're the same species, but just have an insane amount of genetic variation. This is an issue for me to figure out another time. Regardless, there is no strict line between what constitutes an animaloid and what constitutes a humanoid. Both are bipedal and have a variable amount of pectorals/arms,* with the primary differences being in the face. There are some Ancients that you can look at and immediately classify as one of the two, but most of them fall somewhere in between, like "humanoid" Ancients with exaggerated facial proportions or "animaloid" Ancients that are just close enough to human looking that it becomes difficult to put a label on it. Trying to classify individual Ancients is often a fruitless endeavor, but having the general spectrum in mind is important.

*Can have 1-2 pairs of each: note that an Ancient with one pair of arms may have 2 pairs of pectorals but an Ancient with 2 pairs of arms cannot have only 1 pectoral set. Ancients with 2 pairs of arms are rare.

As mentioned a million times prior, Ancients are super gung ho about body modification, and things we deem extreme in human society are probably only uncommon or even unremarkable in Ancient society. Obviously, not every Ancient is making themselves into the next Rolf Buchholz. Some are more conservative about changing their body, some are more extreme. But the general idea is that not having ANY sort of change made, be it as minute as an ear piercing or as dramatic as horn implants, is bizarre.

I know there's other possible takes on the Ancients that are much more separated from human aesthetics, and I love those! But I wasn't really concerned about the spec bio-y aspect this time around. I have enough alien aliens in my roster already, so my Ancients are entirely a product of me having fun without much concern for making them super believable. Hopefully they look cool enough for that to be a valid excuse.

And finally, some pictures of my Ancients, because it's hard to get the full scope without examples. Some of these are from wips I hope to post someday, so you might see them again later. Also I'm trying to format them all nice and next to each other so they don't take up so much space, but tumblr is losing its mind right now so if it doesn't format right then whoops.

96 notes · View notes

st4rc4t · 3 days

Text

everything about you eddie munson x reader

wc: 700

cw: fluff, bomb mention but its a metaphor, kinda rockstar!eddie but the band still isnt super popular yet

a/n: you might recognise this i wrote it for . someone else . a long time ago but i rewrote it for eddie :3

As soon as he was away from the crowd, you were all over him. Quite literally. An arm wrapped tightly around his, his hand gently holding yours. He was always gentle, said he didn’t wanna “crush your chicken bones.” Whatever that meant. Still, it was sweet.

You just couldn’t stop staring at him. His huge proud smile as he talked to friends, flushed face and long sweaty hair stuck to his skin. You admired him the whole walk to the bar. A couple times while walking, he’d turn from conversing with a bandmate, or someone else, you weren’t really paying attention. He'd stop talking just to ask how you were doing.

Besides the copious amounts of praises you shouted at the band as soon as they came off stage, you were shockingly silent for having just watched them play. You had always felt the need to compliment him and the group for days afterwards, so your silence slightly worried him. Each time he asked, you’d just give him the most love sick smile he's even seen, and respond with something along the lines of, “absolutely perfect, my love.'' When you finally get to the dingy bar and have the chance to sit down, he turns his full body towards you to have a proper conversation. Sat in the middle of a round booth, one arm above you and the other on the table, effectively caging you in. Upon making undivided eye contact with him, you make a strangled squeal sound. slapping your hand over your mouth, you’re embarrassed of your unbridled want.

“What is going on with you,” he questions with an amused smirk, reaching to remove your hand from your face, “barely said a word since we left the venue.”

“You did so, so good,” you responded with big doe eyes. It definitely wasn't an answer to his question.

“You've said that already, my darling, thank you very much,” if he hadn’t known any better he would think you were already drunk, “but really, i’d like an answer to the question.”

you huff through your nose, and look at him for a moment longer, trying to collect your thoughts. Trying to explain that nothing is wrong, he is just so incredibly sexy that you feel like you’re a ticking time bomb. The anxiety of waiting for something to happen but he’s already right there, so, so close to you. It's almost too much. You’re afraid if you let your body do what it wants, you will get so affectionate, it appears violent to outside eyes. He can see the gears turning behind your eyes, and gives you another moment longer to collect yourself.

“you are,” you pause to take a breath in, speaking slowly, “so, incredibly special to me. I can not even believe how looking at you makes me feel. I don't even think I could...point out individual things, it is everything about you. I love you so much,” you release an exhale, as though the time bomb inside finally exploded, and you were finally able to release at least some of the pent up emotion.

He stares back at you, almost in shock. He knew you loved him. You say it to each other at least once a day, but he had never seen you in such a love-drunken state. A huge smile spreads on his pretty face, cheeks sore. Already riding the high of an incredible show, his insides were on fire. He was so warm, so grateful to have you on top of his already wonderful life. He didn't think it could get any better until he fell in love with you.

He cradles your face in his warm hands, radiating as much sweetness and need as you are. Kisses quickly cover every centimeter of your face. You’re laughing instantly, so beautiful and light, like down feathers dancing around his heart. Small incomplete mumbles of “I love you” and “So happy to have you” escape as he dotes on you.

The other members of Corroded Coffin are gagging playfully amongst themselves. Steve and Robin just awe silently at the display, reminiscing on younger days, appreciating how far everyone has come.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #stranger things #stranger things x reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fanfic

65 notes · View notes

igotanidea · 1 day

Text

New rules: Damian Wayne x reader

part 4 of "Family rules" series.

A/N: bit of a filler, cause it's been 3 months(!!!!), but promise next part will be more eventful :D

***

„What is this?!” her father yelled, almost throwing the Gotham newspaper in her face.

“I—”

“Let me tell you what this is! This is you kissing Damian Wayne! And your face is all over the newspapers’ front pages!”

“Stop screaming at me!” she spat back feeling her self-control slipping.

“You better tread carefully young lady. Last time I checked you were still living in my house.”

The nightmare began the second she got back from school, still reeling from everything that happened in the principal’s office. Y/N could barely step over the threshold when a tight grip on her shoulders yanked her back, pushing her into the chair in the living room, with a very angered Mr. Y/L/N hovering above her. Felt like a freaking interrogation because she dared to behave like a teenage girl falling in love for the first time in her life.

If her mother was still alive, she would understand. She would sit down with her, ask a lot of questions, let Y/N blush and be supportive as a mother could.

Instead the young girl had to deal with her father, who clearly forgot that part of the role, focusing only on acting as a CEO, whose daughter was fraternizing with the enemy.

And it made her feel guilty.

Guilty for her own feelings, as if falling in love was something shameful. As if he had to pick the right person to whom her heart should start beating. Or not. Not that she could have experienced that, yet¸ but judging by the screams and rage she could say that in the future her father might try to marry her off out of reason.

“Dad, please listen, I –” her pleading tone was supposed to make the man realize that she wasn’t just a bargaining chip in his business’ development.

“I understand.” The response was cold, emotionless, almost ruthless, leaving no space for arguing.

“No you don’t understand! You don’t understand! How could you possibly understand love when even mom was nothing more than a trophy wife for you-!“

Her outburst was immediately cut off by a slap and sharp stinging on the cheek followed by the reddened skin and pulsing blood.

“This is what your mother’s upbringing caused.” Her father hissed “ungrateful, stupid, snouted brat. But let me tell you something. This ends here. And if you want to keep living on my expense, you will do as I tell you!”

“I’m 17! I’m underage, you can’t just cast me out!”

“Unless you want to find out what I’m capable of, I advise you to listen to the plan you’re just a pawn in.”

***

“What is it, Damian?” Bruce asked his youngest son when he came back from school. If there was any anger or disappointment in him, he did a great job hiding it.

“It’s nothing.” Said youngest muttered bellicosely.

It obviously had to come to this stupid awkward conversation with his father but Damian was not going to admit anything easily. And the fact that the boy only just realized that he might be slightly in love with Y/N Y/L/N was causing him to act even more coldly and aloofly than usually.

“Son…”

“I said it’s nothing!”

“So you kissing that girl was just you having fun? Or maybe you were trying to humiliate her?”

“What? No!”

“Look, you are a boy. It's okay if you want to blow off steam. It’s understandable.” Bruce smirked, clearly setting a trap for Damian with the reverse psychology trick.

“You understand? Because you had so much blowing off steam when you were younger?" Obviously the boy raised by Thalia Al-Ghul and Ra’s Al-Ghul was smarter than to fall for something so childish. “Besides, it’s such a humiliating experience. I have no interest in primitive youthful pleasures and amorous activities, father.”

“You sure about it?”

“Positive.” Damian crossed arms over his chest, having his face expression under perfect control.

“Good. Get ready for patrol then. We’ll be leaving soon.”

Damian nodded and with stern look and pursed lips left the room, allowing Bruce to finally let out a sigh of worry. His son may have been a skilled vigilante trained in restraint of emotions, but he could not trick Batman himself. It was impossible to notice how Damian’s eyes were focused on that little Y/L/N during all of last night’s gala. Showing much more than just resentment. And then the dance, which Bruce didn’t even have to force him into. And the way his boy was holding that girl. It was almost obvious that Damian had in fact an interest in amorous activities.

And unlike Y/n’s father, Bruce was not mad about it. In fact, he was quite relieved. As long as possible the relationship would not detriment Damian’s Robin duties of course. But seriously, as a father of a 17 year old, Bruce knew that it was only a matter of time when dilemmas and problems related to love and adolescence would come forward.

And unlike Y/N;s father Bruce was going to watch it carefully, intervening when needed, giving a push here and there, but without obvious control.

***

She was crying a waterfall, holding onto the bruised cheek wondering how to best cover it up so no one at school would ask silly questions.

Locked in the room on the first floor, making the most stern resolution to avoid Damian Wayne for dear life. Even if that was the last thing she would do in her life, she wouldn’t get closer than three rows of desks in the classroom.

For what Y/N cared, Damian Wayne was now officially dead to her.

***

He was sitting on the branch of a giant tree next to her house, dressed in Robin costume, observing how the girl walked into her room with a hand on her cheek, though the distance didn’t allow him to uncover why. Was she sick? Would she be at school tomorrow? Maybe the press got to her and she hurt herself running away from the paparazzi?

“Damian.”

AH! He almost fell to the ground.

“Yes, father?”

��What are you doing?”

“Observing.”

“What?”

“The target.”

“Hm.”

“What now?”

“Unless the target changed age, gender and appearance—”

“Our criminal is currently running down 34th street.” Damian cut his father off abruptly and roughly “his tires are about to burst in about 100 meters due to the explosive I planted there. The explosion will give us enough momentum to jump into action and catch him with the stolen goods in his trunk. That is if we get into action in 3…2…1…” he swiftly shot into the air without paying attention to his companion and even less to his words.

As if Batman was trying to suggest Damian might have been watching her.

Huh! Ridiculous!

***

“Hey Y/n, what happened to your face?” The same girl that used to laugh her out about ending up on the pages kissing Damian, guffawed the next day seeing the poorly covered bruise on Y/N’s face.

“None of your fuckin business -“

“Oh, such bad words coming out of the little princess' mouth, isn’t it?”

“Get lost Lisa!” Y/N shut the locker and tried to walk past her bully.

“You will not ignore me!” Lisa hissed and yanked the other girl’s hair back.

“GIRL FIGHT!” someone yelled and in a blink of an eye the corridor was filled with students cheering on one or the other girl as they started to circle around each other waiting for the moment to strike. Before teachers arrived Y/N was on the floor, blocking the hits that Lisa, who was sitting atop her kept on throwing.

“GET OFF ME!”

“YOU WILL RESPECT MY POSITION IN THIS SCHOOL!”

“YOU’RE A BULLY!”

“I’M A QUEEN!”

“OF MENTAL SICKNESS!"

“HE’S MINE!”

“Wait… what?” Y/N stuttered and the moment of confusion ended up in the perfectly aimed nose punch and a quite decent bleeding. Followed by Lisa’s vindictive smile.

“Now your nose matches your cheek.”

“ny-noze….” tears pricked from Y/N’s eyes from the combined pain and shock. It was not just about the fight, but everything that happened in the last couple days. Her father’s abuse because of falling in love and now Lisa’s torment because of pretty much the same followed by a girl’s jealousy.

“What is happening here?” Fuck, why were the teachers always appearing after the drama happened.

“She attacked me!” Lisa exclaimed, putting on an innocent face. “So aggressive, I suppose it’s because she was raised only by one parent.”

For a second the principal and the tutor were looking between untouched Lisa and beaten up, bleeding Y/N. It was clear who was the casualty, nonetheless it was Lisa’s family who’s been giving generous donations to school.

“Get up from the floor Y/N.” she was finally instructed and on shaky legs and with dizziness she clumsily stood up still clutching her nose. “This is your second stunt this week. You’re coming to my office and this time, I won’t go lightly on you.”

“It was not her fault.” Someone from the crowd of the students dared to speak up and the people parted, revealing the fuming….

Damian Wayne.

“it was Lisa—”

“Oh, I don’t feel well!” Lisa exclaimed accidentally falling right into Damian’s arms “I feel like I’m going to faint—”

“Mr. Wayne, take Mrs Thomas to the nurse’s office so she can be tended to.”

“What-?” Damian swiftly avoided Lisa’s fall and the girl almost ended up on the floor. “No.”

“N-no?”

“No. Y/N was the one who was attacked. And for crying out loud, she’s the one bleeding and needing medical attention. So no, I’m not taking her—” he threw a glance at Lisa “anywhere when there’s someone else in need.”

“U-uh…” the principal still had in mind the humiliation he was subjected to last time when he had Damian and Y/N talk to him. “Fine! Fine, you take her to the nurse, though it’s completely unnecessary and –” half a sentence and two of them were already halfway away “Fuck. I mean, you all go back to your classes! There’s nothing to see here! Now go, before I put you all in detention!”

***

So her resolve to avoid Damian was broken on the first day.

And it was about to get even harder from now on.

_________________________________________

@6000-fandoms @beyond-your-stars @mikyapixie

@heartz4miz @crookedmakerfury @mariam12344 @celestair

@faimmm @hornyslasher

#damian wayne x reader #robin x reader #damian wayne x y/n #damian wayne x you #robin x you #robin x y/n #damian wayne fluff #batfamily x reader

122 notes · View notes

gortash-did-nothing-wrong · 1 day

Text

Feral 2

Minors Do Not Interact!!!

Warnings: brief mentions of arranged marriage, threats of harming an animal (it's a joke but the reader takes it seriously), and several references to slavery

The silly little cat fic is getting a sequel because someone commented that Feyd not liking Friz would make him Friz's favorite person.

"Get him." Feyd said firmly.

Y/N snorted out a laugh. Ever since the wedding she had gotten very comfortable around him. He liked that. He wasn't a fan of a certain flea bag getting that comfortable though.

Friz had a new habit. A habit that annoyed Feyd to no end. Anytime Feyd sat down somewhere, Friz would climb up on the back of the couch or chair, and rub against the back of Feyd's head. Normal he would just ignore the beast until the creature got bored, but with Friz's newfound affections came a fun new fact. Something about the combination of Friz's fur and Feyd's skin created a bit of static. Every damned hair the cat shed stuck to his head like it was glued. Only showering or a lint roller would get it all off. Every damned time he left his rooms he had to triple check himself to make sure he wasn't walking around with cat fur on his head. Y/N was admittedly helpful about the situation, often going over him with a lint roller before he left.

Friz seemed to have an endless supply of fur that fell off of him at the slightest touch. The beast didn't seem to have much fur when you looked at him, but it was a cowardly deception. Y/N had taken an undercoat brush to Friz while Feyd watched, horrified at the amount of fur that kept getting brushed off of him. It was never ending. And after Y/N was done, a giant clump of furballs next to her to prove she'd done it, Friz looked no different. And still she'd on the couch that evening during his nap time.

"The maids scramble about to keep this place as fur free as possible." Y/N explained to him, throwing the fur into the incinerator. "I've no idea how they do it, I think they use some sort of hand rake that works kind of like the undercoat brush."

"Remind me to increase their rations." Feyd grumbled.

Which brought Feyd back to his current predicament. Friz was standing in the back of the couch, rubbing against his head like he owned it. Y/N held out her hand, offering pets to Friz.

The tomcat promptly gave her a warning hiss.

"It's out of my control." Y/N said.

"And you're sure we can't shave him?" Feyd pressed.

"He'll get sick. Giedi Prime is already so cold, I can't let him freeze without his coat." Y/N explained.

Feyd opened his mouth to say that wasn't the worst outcome he'd ever heard, but went silent when he felt it. On the back of his head. Something warm, wet, and scratchy. It touched him briefly, then disappeared for a split second before touching him again, and again, and again.

Y/N grinned from ear to ear. "Aw, he's grooming you!"

Feyd growled, crossing his arms in what definitely was not a pout. "I am cleaner than he has ever been."

"You know, cats only groom things they consider to be family. And since you're new to him, and have no hair, he might think you're a kitten!" Y/N giggled. "A poor, cold little kitten with no hair."

A little meow from behind him assured the both of them that not only could Friz understand them somehow, but he was committed to this entire bit.

"I'll toss you to the slave pits." Feyd threatened the cat. "They're usually half starved. They'll tear you to-"

"Feyd." Y/N snapped. "If you speak to him like that again, you'll need to go to your own room tonight."

Feyd took a deep breath, gently reminding himself that his wife wasn't from Giedi Prime, that she was softer than him, that she wasn't going to take kindly to even joking threats. "My apologies. Is there some solution to his shedding I have overlooked?"

"Well, regular baths would help." Y/N said. "Right now I can only manage about one every two weeks, but if I could give him longer bathes where I really get in there and scrub him, it'll knock a lot of fur off."

Feyd narrowed his gaze at Friz as the cat jumped into his lap. "Consider it done."

#feyd rautha #dune #feyd rautha harkonnen #feyd x reader #dune part 2

61 notes · View notes

justauthoring · 2 days

Text

and i wonder... who? [5]

somehow, you find yourself torn between the two hottest guys at your school and you have no idea who to choose. loosely based off of operation: true love where geto is eunhyeuk and gojo is dohwa :)

a/n: sooooo satosugu won the poll so this is officially a satosugu x reader series! (just might be a bit of slowwww burnnn)

pairing: geto suguru x f!reader, gojo satoru x f!reader, satosugu x f!reader

tag list: @username23356-blog - @anxious-chick - @novacaneformybrain - @mandysfanfics - @rottmntrulesall - @voiceofnoreturn - @rh-tg1 - @ky0mybeloved - @black-swan-blog27 - @ladytamayolover - @the8ate - @maybe-a-bi-with - @dudalo100 - @reese-is-right - @6lonely-town6 - @its-a-damn-blue-brick - @kimi01985 - @dorusken - @siimp4youu - @catobsessedlady - @paper--angel - @animechick555 - @meshiinuma - @xxannyxx - @kaeyaviado - @kochochan-shinobulvrrs - @ichikanu - @valeriinee let me know if you'd like to added! also i still don't know how to fix the tags - it works in editing but doesn't link some when i post it. if anyone knows how to fix this, please let me know!

It was hot.

Blindingly so.

Still, you refused to take off your sweater even if you desperately wanted to. You were just thankful that your school allowed you to wear sweaters and hoodies over top of uniforms without getting in trouble for it and although normally that was something you only had to worry about in the winter, you had no choice but to today.

If you took off your sweater, then people would see the finger-sized marks across your arms from Sukuna yesterday and really, you just didn’t have the energy to deal with the questions that would inevitably follow. Nor did you want to… let it escalate any further. Sure, you’d managed to get away yesterday and had somehow gained the courage to make your breakup clear to Sukuna, but it didn't erase the fact that he’d scared you last night. And you didn’t want to imagine what would happen if somehow people got word that the bruises on your arms were from him.

It was over, anyways. You’d done it. You’d broken up with him and could now move on from him.

Move on with your life.

“You look hot,” Shoko comments from beside you, regarding you with a raised brow. “Why are you wearing a sweater when it’s blistering hot outside?”

Meeting her eyes, you shrug. “It isn’t that hot.”

“You’re sweating,” she deadpans.

Biting your lip, you choose to ignore the fact that she is very much correct. Your sweater is sticking to your skin from the obnoxious sun that is beating right over your head and the need to relieve some of the heat is more than tempting. But the sight of Sukuna running past you, meeting his dark and intimidating eyes just briefly, reminds you of why you’re keeping your sweater on.

“I just finished running,” you explain which, you guessed, wasn’t completely a lie. You were sweating because you’d just finished running but you were sweating a lot because of that and the fact that you were wearing a sweater… Shoko didn’t need to know that though.

Meeting her eyes from the corner of your own, you nod to yourself. “I’m actually a little cold.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Y-Yeah,” you breathe, fighting the urge to break under her intense stare. You didn’t even need to be looking directly at her to feel the intensity of it – if there was one thing Shoko was good at, it was seeing through your every lie. You figured that talent came with knowing you for as long as she had… still didn’t make it any less scary thought.

“Like a cold sweat.”

It’s clear she doesn’t believe you, the suspicious gaze in her eyes never wavering but she has the decency to leave it at that.

You’re incredibly thankful for that fact.

“So, you really did break it off with Ryoumen, huh?”

The two of you are standing by the bleachers while the boys have their turn playing soccer, as per your teachers instructions. The game has been going on for about five minutes now (you only just finally feeling like you’re not about to pass out) and you’ve been spending those five minutes idly chatting with Shoko and desperately trying not to ogle Geto who looks a little too good on the field right now.

Seriously, when did you start to find him attractive?

It wasn’t like you didn’t know he was attractive — of course you did. The whole female population of your school knew that Geto Suguru was attractive. You’re pretty sure he had his own little fanclub of girls that followed him around and you swear you’ve caught one of them asking him out in the hallway more times than you care to admit. So yes, objectively, you knew Geto was attractive. Incredibly attractive.

But you hadn’t really paid any of that mind until now.

It was like a fact. A statement. It hadn’t had any impact on you previously, and yet, here you were, practically drooling at the sight of him.

“–Hello? Y/N?”

A hand falls on your shoulder, the sudden touch making you jump as your eyes snap to Shoko. She’s staring back at you in concern, head tilted and brows furrowed as you blink over at her.

“I asked you a question?”

Had she?

Eyes briefly glancing back at Geto before focusing on her, you rub the back of your neck.

“Whoops,” you mumble bashfully, “sorry. What was it again? I… spaced out.”

Rolling her eyes, Shoko just snorts; “I asked if you really did break things off with Sukuna.”

“Oh!” Your eyes instantly brighten up, turning to face her fully. “I did!”

Shoko grins; “yes!” Pumping her fist in the air, she turns to you. “I’ve literally been waiting for you to do that forever.”

Rolling your eyes, you just snort. “I know, I know,” you wave her off, before pausing. You had no intention of telling her about how angry Sukuna had gotten, but it would be good to get it off your chest even a little. You just wouldn’t mention the bruise thing—besides, Shoko had said she wanted every little detail.

So, turning to her, you grin; “it was so awkward though and—”

“Shoko!”

Lips left parted in the middle of your sentence, both you and Shoko glance behind her, only to see a group of girls from another class waving at her to grab her attention. The excitement on your face fades somewhat at that, leaning back on your feet as Shoko waves back at them before glancing over at you apologetically,

“I—”

“It’s all good,” you brush off before she can apologize, waving her concern away. “Go. I’ll wait here for you.”

Shoko hesitates. “Are you sure?”

Shaking your head, you squeeze her shoulder; “of course. Go.”

With one more hesitant glance your way, Shoko nods, mouthing a ‘thank you’ before making her way over. You watch her for a moment longer before letting your eyes fall around, eyes momentarily meeting Sukuna’s and swiftly turning your head away, you move, making your way over to the bleachers on the side of the field. A few of the other girls from your class have sat down, chatting amongst themselves, and with nothing better to do, you take a seat near a corner, pulling your legs to your chest and opting to simply watch the boys.

You knew Shoko cared about you, just like you cared about her but it sucked knowing that some of the other girls wanted to be her friend but didn’t want to be yours. Anytime you’d tried to talk with her other friends before, it had just been awkward. And not something you wanted to repeat.

Sighing, you let your head fall on top of your knees.

At least you could watch Geto with no interruptions now.

“Boo!”

Or not…

Flickering your gaze to the right, your lips part when you realize it’s Gojo sitting beside you.

“Gojo!”

With a wide grin and a wink, Gojo offers you a wave.

You glance around before settling back on him, baffled. “What are you doing here?”

“Uh… here for gym class?” Gojo explains with a snort, using his thumb to point behind him and following his direction, your lips part when you see a group of girls occupying the field next to the one you’re sitting in front of. Focusing back on Gojo and the line sheen of sweat covering his skin, you put the pieces together.

“Oh,” your lips form a ‘o’, “I forgot other classes had gym at the same time as us.” Cheeks warming, you bite your lip, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear in embarrassment.

Gojo takes a moment to eye you before laughing; “you’re weird, you know that?”

Lips parting in offense, you shove at his shoulder; “that’s rude!”

“No,” Gojo laughs, your shove barely moving him an inch, “what’s rude is you calling me Gojo.”

Confused, you turn to him; “is that not your name?”

“It is,” he assures, “but it’s too formal. I thought I made it clear; call me Satoru.”

You’re sure your face grows hot at that.

“B-But! That’s too friendly!” You argue, waving your hands in front of you widely. “We only just started talking and—”

“And we’re already close,” Gojo cuts in, smiling cheekily. “So what’s the problem?”

Shoulders slumping, you just frown at him. “You’re ridiculous.”

Gojo just takes the insult in stride, leaning in close so his face is right in front of yours. You instinctively lean back, surprised by his sudden closeness as you press against the side of the bleachers. It doesn’t seem to bother Gojo who only grows closer; you can feel his side press into your arm and his leg knock into your folded one, not to mention all you can see is those bright, beautiful blue eyes staring at you.

“U-um…—”

“And you’re adorable.”

Okay, now you’re sure you’re red in the face.

“G-Gojo–!”

“Satoru,” he cuts in, waving his finger at you. “Repeat after me. Sa-To-Ru.”

You stare back at him, wishing he’d back up even a little because he was too close and it was making you feel a way you didn't know how to react to. You’d already been sweating because of the damn sweater before, but now you probably look like a hot mess and your mind is running a mile a minute just to come up with something to say.

“Come on,” Gojo sings softly, voice low so only you can hear but still sweet and soft. “Say it.”

Lips parting, you ignore the racing of your heart; “Sa… Satoru.”

With a sudden jump, he’s pulled back, sitting up straight next to you as he grins wide, ear to ear; “see?” He exclaims, “that wasn’t so hard. It’s much better if you just call me by my first name, kay, Y/N?”

You’re frazzled. You know you’re frazzled. Even though Gojo has leaned back like you wanted him to, your heart is still racing and you feel flushed.

Was it just your imagination or had he also smelled really good?

“O-okay.”

Pleased by your answer, Gojo finally lets his eyes wander down, pausing when he sees what you’re wearing.

“Aren’t you warm?”

Oh god… not this again.

“No,” you deny with a shake of your head, hugging yourself. “I’m perfectly fine.”

Gojo just quirks a brow. “You look warm.” He states bluntly.

You huff — what was with everyone questioning you on wearing a damn sweater? Was it that hard to believe?

“For your information—”

You stop what you’re saying the second a shadow falls over you, completely blocking the sun from falling over you. Confused, you turn, only to pause when you see it’s Geto. You blink at the sight of him, confused, not having expected to see him, glancing over his shoulder to the field to see, like you thought, the rest of the boys are still playing and yet…

“Geto—”

“Did you bring my hoodie?”

His voice is harsh. Harsher than you expected. By the way he falters the second he meets your eyes properly, you figure he didn’t mean to sound that angry but you’re still confused as to why he even would be in the first place.

Was he upset you hadn’t given him the hoodie back earlier?

You also have not failed to notice how still Gojo is beside you suddenly.

“U-Um… Yeah, it’s in my bag. One sec.”

Reaching behind you to grab your bag, you’re oblivious to the way Gojo and Geto glare at each other, each with a certain fierceness and determination in their gaze before swiftly glancing away the second you turn back around.

“Here,” you call, smiling up at Geto as you extend his folded sweater to his awaiting hands. “I made sure it didn’t have any stains on it or anything after I washed, so it should be good. Thank you again for letting me borrow it.”

Geto’s face eases as he meets your eyes and he smiles softly; “it’s no problem. Thank you for washing it.” Then, as if almost an afterthought, he adds; “I’m sorry I couldn’t stay longer at your place to wait for it.”

You miss the way Gojo straightens at that.

“Oh, no!” You brush off, shaking your head. “I’m sorry you had to even give it to me in the first place.”

“Um,” Gojo cuts in, pulling your eyes on him with a blink as he shifts his gaze from Geto to you, offering you a somewhat tight-lipped smile. “Why did you have Geto’s hoodie in the first place?”

You’re a little confused as to why he cares, but—

“I accidentally spilled my soda on her and it made her shirt see-through and she was cold, so I offered it to her.”

Well, he didn’t need to go into that kind of detail—

“Oh?” Gojo asks, but something about his tone sounds strained and tense. “Is that so?”

Lips parting, you watch as the two of them glare at each other.

“U-um,” you speak up nervously, shifting forward; both of their eyes instantly fall on you, features softening. “Do you two… not like each other or something?”

The two glance at each other again.

Gojo’s the first to speak up; “not particularly.”

“We’ve never gotten along,” Geto elaborates. “That’s all.”

“I see…” You mumble, before your eyes brighten with a sudden idea; “well, hey! There's always a first, right?”

And the answer is clear to them both;

No way in hell.

Still, for you, they hesitate.

“Maybe,” Geto shrugs, brushing a bit of sweat off his forehead.

Gojo sighs dramatically; “if I’d have to.”

You’re oblivious to it all — eyes twinkling with excitement, you smile brightly. Truly, a brilliant idea has come to mind.

“Isn’t that amusement park opening up soon? I think… this weekend?” You ask, “you two should go together!”

Geto and Gojo frown at one another.

If there’s one thing the two of them can agree upon, it’s that that seems like the worst idea.

The two of them? Alone? At an amusement park?

What could honestly possess you to think that’s a good idea?

Geto, however, looks at you a moment later and smirks, clearly proud of himself; “I dunno about him, but I’d go with you.” And he sends a smug grin Gojo’s way, clearly thinking he’d effectively worked his way around not only having to disappoint you by saying no to your original idea but, getting you to go with him instead.

Gojo gasps, as if thoroughly offended.

“Really?” Your eyes brighten.

Geto smiles, nodding.

“Then let’s go!” You exclaim excitedly and Geto is just about to turn to Gojo with a victory smirk, before you add; “the three of us! When are you guys free next?”

Wait–what?

Geto is not really sure how he got himself into this situation.

Like really – how?

“She’s late.”

Pressing a hand to his forehead, Geto resists the urge to let his annoyance get the best of him. But really–truly–he was at his final straw.

“You’ve said that three times,” Geto grumbles, offering a quick glance beside him at the white-haired bastard that just couldn’t help but take you up on your offer. Then, imagine Geto’s surprise when he shows up at your agreed upon time just to see that you hadn’t shown up yet but Gojo had—and Geto’s pretty sure that the guy was normally late to everything. Late to class, late to tests, meetups, hangouts, etc. so of course it was just his luck that today is the day Gojo decides he’s going to show up on time.

And you aren’t.

Letting out a whine, Gojo pushes off the wall he’d been leaning against, moving until he’s directly beside Geto and the two of them are now staring out at the entrance way, waiting for you.

“It’s true, though,” Gojo mumbles, and Geto can distinctly see him pouting out of the corner of his eye. “She’s ten minutes late.”

Geto just huffs.

“What exactly is your problem?” Gojo asks instantly, and Geto can feel him shift to face him. “You’ve been glaring at me this entire time.”

Feeling that final straw snap, Geto spins to face Gojo in return, narrowed eyes focusing in on his own as Geto shakes his head. “You aren’t supposed to be here.”

Gojo just laughs; “I was invited, wasn’t I?”

Crossing his arms over his chest, Geto scoffs; “not by me.”

“Still butt hurt that Y/N invited me along?” Gojo taunts, looking entirely too smug as he steps closer to Geto. Gojo might be shorter, but only by an inch, and it isn’t hard for him to size Geto up just as easily as Geto is trying to size him up. “You think I’m all that happy about you being here either?”

“Then leave?” Geto questions, as if that was the obvious answer–which, obviously, it was. “I’m the one who asked Y/L/N first so really, you aren’t needed here whatsoever.”

Gojo just leans back; “if I left I’d be doing exactly what you want. Last I checked, Y/N does want me here.”

Feeling his head hurt and his body tense, Geto shoves at his shoulder; “what’s with the lack of formality? You refer to Y/L/N so casually, I didn’t realize you guys were that close.” Pausing in thought (for dramatic effect), Geto glowers at Gojo. “Last I checked, Y/L/N didn’t even know who you were before a couple days ago.”

“What?” Gojo raises a brow challengingly, “jealous we’re close enough that she calls me ‘Satoru’?” Shoving his hands into the pockets of his pants, Gojo leans back. “She says it so prettily, too, don’t you think? I mean, I absolutely love the way she says my name.

He truly was unbelievable. Geto didn’t realize there could be someone who pissed him off so damn much… He’s never really liked the guy, and despite the fact that for most of his life Geto has unfortunately gone to the same school as Gojo, his level of hatred was reaching a height it never had before.

Before, Gojo was just some annoying guy Geto didn’t bother to pay attention to. Not if he didn’t have to.

He can still remember the way he’d felt seeing the two of you laughing and talking that day on the bleachers – Geto was positive that he’s never seen the two of you talk before and certainly not enough to warrant such a friendly interaction. If Geto hadn’t calmed himself down before, he was sure he’d have made a fool out of himself when he interrupted the two of you but taking the calm approach seemed to have it’s rewards and Geto will never forget the look of stunned disbelief on Gojo’s face when you handed him his hoodie.

He’d definitely have to give you his clothes more – this time, have you wear them where everyone could see.

And then he’d thought he’d perfectly worked his way around your silly suggestion of hanging with Gojo – and then you just had to go and invite Gojo with the two of you?

Geto didn’t realize you could be so oblivious.

Honestly—he’d told himself he’d try to play nice with Gojo, for you. Even if Gojo was there, it didn’t change Geto’s plan of trying to woo you and catch your attention. If Gojo wanted to hang back as a third wheel then that was his choice, Geto wasn’t going to let that stop him from making a move on you.

But really, he was at his limit.

He couldn’t even think of ‘playing nice’ with Gojo when he was this egotistical.

Inhaling sharply, Geto moves to take a step towards Gojo, Gojo straightening out in response, before your familiar voice calls out;

“Ooh! I’m so sorry!”

Both Geto and Gojo freeze at the sound of your voice, eyes shifting to fall on you as you come to a slow step before them. You’re panting, pressing a hand to your chest as you try to catch your breath, making it clear you’d run here, but what really catches Geto’s attention is what you’re wearing.

A flowery, pink sundress. It had cute puffy sleeves and the material bunched around your chest with a bow, with the length of the skirt stopping just above your knees. It swayed gently in the wind, brushing upwards to show the faintest hint of your upper thighs. The whole outfit was put together with some accessories, cute sandals and a hairstyle Geto had never seen you wear at school before.

Geto, despite himself, feels his cheeks grow pink, a flush hitting him as he quickly glances away from you to situate himself. It wasn’t like he hadn’t thought you were pretty before (that was abundantly clear given his actions) but it was a little different seeing you in something other than your school uniform. And, technically, the arcade hadn’t counted—given that he’d dumped soda all over your blouse before he could properly take in what you were wearing.

A quick glance at Gojo tells him his reaction isn’t that much different.

“My mom needed my help with something and I completely lost track of time!” You explain, turning to them with a worried expression as you finally manage to catch your breath properly. “Were you guys waiting for long?”

“Not at all–!”

“No–!”

Lips left parted, Geto glares at Gojo out of the corner of his eye—Gojo returns it with ease.

“O-Oh,” you mumble, briefly glancing at the both of them in confusion before taking a step towards them. “Well, then… should we get going?”

Without hesitation, Geto steps forward before Gojo has the chance to and flashes a soft smile in your direction; “let’s go.”

#jjk #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo satoru #gojo satoru x reader #getou suguru x reader #getou suguru #geto suguru x reader #satosugu #satosugu x reader #gojo x reader #getou x reader #otl #operation: true love

96 notes · View notes

stylesharrys · 3 hours

Text

The Box | Part Two [Boxerry]

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

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

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

WC: 14.8k

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

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

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

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

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

Y/N: yeah, I get it x

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

Harry: no stress, come whenever u can x

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

Harry: cool, thank you x

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It only rings once and then he answers.

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

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

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

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

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

“Are you in your car?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What the fuck is going on?”

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

“Tell me what is going on.”

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

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

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

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

“Penny! Stop. Do you trust me?”

She blinks at him. “What?”

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

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

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

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

He’ll be damned if history repeats itself.

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

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

“Okay.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Why?” she cries through laboured breaths.

“Sam owed them money.”

“How much?”

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

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

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

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

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

“—Amira?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’ve known this whole time.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?”

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

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

“So… so we need to leave town.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That wasn’t for you to decide.”

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

“I’m sorry,” she squeaks out.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“We can do other stuff, can’t we?”

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

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

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

“Are you sure?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“M’sorry, baby.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Fuck! Baby, I’m gonna come.”

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

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

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

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

“Y’okay?”

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

“Mhm, thank you.”

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

“Let me get you some water.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No! Get off of me!”

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

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

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

One breath. Two, three.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“To see an old friend.”

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

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

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

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

She nods, but they both know she’s not. Not really.

“Are you?”

He huffs out a small laugh and reaches for her hand that sits in her lap. “I’ve been better.”

She doesn’t understand it — how he always has the energy to try to make light out of any situation. Y/N looks away briefly, taking in the surroundings of the garage.

It’s like any other she’s been to. A few old cars spread across the place, some that are very clearly undrivable and others that she thinks probably only needed a quick fix.

Her brows pinch when she thinks about why they’re here. Is a blown back window really what’s important right now? She looks back to Harry with parted lips, but he already knows what she’s going to say.

“It’s my friend's garage. He’ll be able to help with more than just a smashed window.”

Y/N nods curtly, unsure if she’s understanding what he’s letting on. She also doesn’t have any suggestions as to what the fuck else they could do to help them out of this situation, so she puts all her trust in him and this unknown friend, and prays that her brother will keep them as safe as he can.

Her eyes look forward again, noticing a man and woman emerging from a wide door to the left. She looks back to Harry, a smile on his face as he opens the door and clambers out.

Y/N follows suit, shrinking into herself a little as the two unfamiliar faces grow closer.

“No call?” the man speaks loudly, arms across his chest.

Harry shrugs, walking closer. “No time.”

A smile breaks across the man’s face as he and Harry meet in a brotherly embrace. They’re squeezing tight, smacking each other’s backs until the man pulls away and gets a look at his friends face.

“Christ, H… did you even get a hit in?”

Harry smacks him in the chest and moves slightly to greet the woman. “Hey, Ashley. How’ve you been?”

She offers him a small hug and smiles. “Better than you it appears.”

Harry pulls away with a seemingly shy smile, turning back to Y/N who remains hovering by the Chevy. He points to her with an open palm. “Penny, this is Ashley and Jimmy. Guys, this is Y/N… Sammy’s sister.”

A heavy silence falls upon the shop – so quiet they’d be able to hear a pin drop. She offers a half wave, pursed lips and teary eyes. Harry is quick to make his way by her side again, an arm wrapped loosely around her waist to offer some form of reassurance.

“Jimmy and Sam used to knock about together,” he tells her. “Jim’s actually the one that found the club and convinced Sammy to take it on.”

He offers a polite smile and wave but there’s nothing but pity in his eyes. “I’m sorry for your loss. Sam was a one-of-a-kind kid.”

She nods, doesn’t want to reminisce on her late brother. Not right now. Not after the morning they’ve had.

Harry clears his throat and scratches at the nape of his neck. “M’sorry to throw it on you guys, but d’you mind if we crash for the night? We’re in a bit of a mess right now.”

There’s no hesitation when both Jimmy and Ashley nod their heads. “Of course, stay as long as you need. Come on upstairs, I’m just about to fix up some lunch, you guys can get cleaned up.”

Harry follows them through the garage, hand on Y/N’s lower back to guide her through. She stays close to him, far too on edge to be as trusting as Harry. She has to remind herself that they were also Sammy’s friends. And he didn’t put his trust in just anybody.

“Thank you, I promise we’ll be out of your hair by morning.”

Their apartment above the garage is nice. It’s rustic and chic at the same time and Y/N finds herself drawn to the canvases that litter the walls in the hall and living room.

Jimmy seems to notice. “They’re Ash’s,” he says with a smile. “She’s a wicked artist.”

Y/N hums, a small smile painting its way on her own lips. She’s desperately trying to ignore the dull ache in the side of her stomach, tries to play it off like every breath isn’t hindering her in some small way.

They follow through to the kitchen, the same sort of vibe with a wooden kitchen island and black, steel stools. Harry guides her to take a seat and sits himself beside her, both watching Ash as she pours them each a cup of coffee.

“Did the Chevy take as much damage as you?”

Harry scoffs out a laugh and takes a sip of his drink. “Still as mouthy as ever,” he quips back. “But no, she’s just fine – apart from the back window. That got smashed to fuck.”

Y/N watches them back and forth, how they talk with such ease, like the past twelve hours didn’t happen. It has her head spinning, has her second-guessing that Harry isn’t taking this as seriously as he made her believe.

She stands abruptly from her stool, the steel screeching across the hardwood floors. All eyes fall on her and she gulps. “Can I use your bathroom?”

Ashley nods, pointing to the door just down the hall. Y/N mumbles a quiet ‘thanks’ before rushing off and pressing her back behind the locked door.

She just needs a moment. A moment to think and breathe. This is all way too much for her to handle right now and she’s never felt so alone in her entire life. It hurts her heart, her head – everything. Tears are stinging at her waterline, threatening to spill over but she wills them not to.

A small knock on the door is heard and then… “Penny? It’s me.”

Y/N swallows down her feelings and unlocks the door. Harry lets himself in; worrisome eyes and tender hands on her arms as he closes the door behind him.

“Y’okay? I know this is all probably scaring you.”

She stares at him blankly. “Scaring me? Harry, I’m fucking terrified and you’re out there laughing without a care in the world, having a catchup with an old friend, while I’m just silently freaking the fuck out.”

He coos her, pulls her into his chest and ignores the pain he feels as he holds her close. “M’sorry, m’just trying to forget about it all for a moment. I’m not going to let anything happen to you, I swear.”

Her breathing is erratic against his chest, hands balling fists of his shirt on his back. Harry strokes the hair from her face and kisses her temple, shushing her the best he can to try and encourage her to steady her breathing.

“I’m sorry,” she mumbles into him.

Harry shakes his head. “You’ve got nothing to apologise for. Why don’t you go for a nap, hmm? Jimmy’s gonna take a look at the damage on the window and I’m gonna talk him through everything that’s happened… see if he has any ideas.”

While a nap does sound good, Y/N’s not sure she’ll be able to switch her mind off. She doesn’t tell Harry that, though. She figures he’s also got enough on his mind, he doesn’t need to be dealing with her fussing all because she can’t sleep.

So she nods her head and pulls out of his embrace. “Yeah, okay. A nap sounds good.”

It turns out it wasn’t as hard to fall asleep as Y/N thought it would be. As it goes, severe stress and exhaustion happen to have that effect when the adrenaline wears off.

Ashley was kind enough to lend Y/N a spare top and some sweatpants, washing her previous clothes so they would be clean and dry for when they leave tomorrow. She stretches in the bed of the guestroom, eyes flickering to the clock that reads 17:08 and her eyes widen.

She didn’t expect for a little nap to turn into five hours of sleep and she’s slightly upset that Harry didn’t think to wake her. Her stomach grumbles and it’s only now that she realises she hasn’t eaten in just over twenty-four hours.

Her fluffy sock-clad feet carry her out into the hall, light chit-chat coming from the very end and she follows to the source of it.

They all sit at the kitchen island; Jimmy, Ashley and Harry. There’s a frown set between each of their eyebrows but Harry’s soothes out when he notices Y/N’s lingering presence by the doorway.

“Hey, are you feeling any better?”

She hums. “A little.”

He pulls out a chair for her to take, Jimmy and Ashley quietly talking between themselves as Y/N sits with them. Harry offers her his drink and she takes the glass in her hands, swirling the brown liquid as she brings it to her lips.

“It’s whis—“

She gulps down his drink before he can even finish — doesn’t even care what it is just that any drop of alcohol will do for now.

He stifles a laugh and takes back the empty glass, reaching for the bottle on the middle of the table to refill his drink.

“What are you talking about?” she asks, all eyes now on her.

Harry clears his throat. “Just trying to figure out how to get rid of the guys that are after us.”

She raises a brow, somewhat expectant. “Any luck?”

“No, not yet.” She hears a voice, her eyes following the sound to Harry’s phone that’s on the kitchen island, Niall’s contact on the screen.

“Oh,” she peeps quietly. “Hi, Niall.”

“Hey, Y/N. How are you holding up?”

She scoffs. “About as well as Bambi on ice.”

He laughs at her comment, a hearty one at that. Harry smiles softly at her, can feel the nerves and anxiety bubbling off her aura in waves. It hurts to see her like this, so curled into herself and scared.

“So, let’s lay it all out again,” Ashley speaks a little louder.

Harry and Jimmy lean forward in their seats simultaneously. “As far as we’re aware, it’s just the three of them; the brothers—“

“—Wait, they’re brothers?” Y/N pipes up with knitted brows.

Harry nods. “Mhm. A lot of the guys that train at The Box were in gangs, the Scavello brothers were rivals to a bunch of them. They’ve all got screws loose, multiple personality disorders.”

“And schizophrenia. The worst case of it.” Niall chips in.

The newfound information does nothing to cease her fears. If anything, it only intensifies tenfold and Y/N begins to find it difficult to breathe.

“Right,” Harry swallows thickly. “So it’s the three brothers, all hellbent on getting revenge for Sammy not paying them they’re thirty grand. We already know they won’t stop until they get the club or feel… satisfied enough to move on.”

There’s something about the way Harry words it that makes Y/N shiver. She doesn’t know how much longer of this she can take, how much more dangerous it’ll get. At what point will they feel satisfied? When they’re run out of town? When they’re beaten and bloody? When they’re six feet under like her brother?

“They’re known for a lot of shady shit, too. Few years ago Ryce had stabbed someone in a pub… pretty sure he’s still on the wanted list.” Niall speaks again, like that’s the worst thing they’ve ever done.

Y/N has to bite her tongue. She doesn’t know if they’re aware of the truth about Sam’s death. And if they’re not, she isn’t about to announce it. She won’t allow for him to be remembered as the guy they killed.

Not now. Not ever.

“So have you not thought about tipping off the police?” Ashley asks, slightly incredulous as if it’s the most obvious option there is. (Which in all honesty, Y/N completely agrees with).

But Jimmy shakes his head profusely, clasping his hands together on the kitchen island. “No, no way. The Feds are already suspecting the club of illegal activity. It’s just going to give them more ammo. This needs to be dealt with in-house.” He points his finger downward, tapping against the counter.

Y/N chews on the inside of her cheek, the gears ticking in her head as she thinks of an alternative idea.

“What about a set up?” she suggests. “We meet them somewhere and… Ash, maybe you could call in and say you’ve driven past a group of guys attacking a couple…. If they get arrested it could give us some time to figure out something more solid?”

She knows it’s a lame idea, but it’s something. No one else seems to be putting theories to the table.

And of course, Harry is the first to shake his head. “No, too dangerous and they won’t fall for that. They’re insane but they’re not stupid.”

She slumps at his words, slightly offended by his tone but she doesn’t let herself get into that. Really, Harry’s distaste to her idea is the least of anyone’s concerns right now.

All eyes fall on the phone in the centre of the table, “Any ideas, Ni?”

He’s silent for a moment, then a huff is heard. “Personally, I think the best option will be to come back to the club. They’re gonna riot at some point. Might aswel be prepared for it. We’ll get the boys in tomorrow and figure out a plan between the lot of us.”

It’s a bit annoying that the simplest of ideas doesn’t suck. That logically, it’s probably the smartest and safest move to make. Because Niall is right. Eventually, the brothers will riot the club, and what the fuck are three psychos against a gym full of angry boxers?

The doorbell sounds through the kitchen and pulls Y/N from her thoughts. Jimmy stands, legs of his stool scratching against the floor as he grabs his wallet from his back pocket.

“Let’s call it a night then. Pizzas here. We’ll regroup tomorrow.”

The mention of food almost has Y/N’s mouth watering. They say their goodbyes to Niall, no one’s stress easing in the slightest but at least they have somewhat of a plan and she doesn’t feel so alone anymore.

Those boys at the gym would fight tooth and nail to protect Sam’s legacy. She just prays that it’ll be enough.

Not much is said as they eat their dinner. Harry and Jimmy reminisce on a few memories with Ash chiming in here and there, but for the most part Y/N stays silent and focuses on her food.

They stay like that for another hour or so until Harry’s eyelids grow heavy and start to sting. He’s exhausted, to say the least. His body still aches and as he glances over at Y/N, he can tell that the five hour nap has only made her more tired.

He leans closer to her, lips ghosting her ear. “D’you wanna go to bed?”

She turns her head just slightly to get a look at him. His face is a lot more busted as the night has gone on and the sleepiness that takes over his features pinches her heart a little.

Nodding her head, she stifles a yawn. “Yeah, you look pretty tired, too.”

Harry grins as he rolls his eyes, leaning away from her now to finish the last of his whiskey. He places the glass back on the counter, clearing his throat to catch Ash and Jim’s attention.

“We’re going to head to bed, long day tomorrow.”

Jimmy puffs out his cheeks with an exhale, nodding solemnly. Y/N gets it, can practically feel the anxiety that rolls off him. While he’s good at masking his expressions, there’s not much he can do about his vibe.

“Yeah, yeah, no worries. You know where everything is if you need anything.”

Harry guides Y/N off her stool and down the hall again after saying goodnight to the others. They don’t bother to turn on the light, instead opt for blindly feeling for the bed with their legs and Harry helps her get comfy.

She expects him to round the bed and crawl in next to her, but he doesn’t. Instead, he brushes the hair from her face and stands back with a gentle smile as he regards her.

Y/N’s brows pinch together when he speaks. “I’ll be next door if you need me.”

“Why?” she asks.

“Why what?”

“Why aren’t you staying here with me?”

He smiles softly, shuffling closer to the foot of the bed again. “Didn’t want to assume, that’s all.”

It makes him feel something deep in his stomach — how she craves his presence and wants him close. There’s a swell of something similar to pride in his chest at the realisation of how deep her trust for him runs.

“D’you want me to stay, Penny?”

She sinks further into the bed, seemingly trying to hide half of her face from his gaze. “Only if you want to,” she replies.

Harry’s smile grows slightly and he nods his head, kicking off his shoes and shimmying out of his jeans. She watches, rather closely. He’s right beside her still as he strips down to his boxers before he closes the door and approaches the other side of the bed.

The sheets are cool against his warm skin, small hisses and grunts slipping from his lips at the discomfort in his ribs and abdomen. It makes Y/N feel funny, knowing just how hurt he must be. She was witness to the assault, she’s a little surprised how well he’s taking it.

She has to remind herself that he is a boxer. And a fucking good one at that.

Y/N turns onto her side, her face just a couple of inches from Harry as their eyes adjust to the darkness, desperately trying to map out the others face under the dim moonlight that threatens to peek through the curtains.

Her ankles rub together as they do every night as she tries to settle herself for bed. Something she’s done ever since she was young. Harry can feel the movement beneath the sheets, but to him, he reads it as a sign of feeling cold. So he shuffles a little closer and intertwines their legs, resting a heavy palm on her hip.

“Harry,” she whispers into the night and he’s already looking at her.

“Yeah?”

She waits a moment, unsure if there’s any use in admitting her quarries right now. There’s nothing he can do or say to soothe her, not with the mess that awaits them.

And yet she finds herself uttering it anyway. “I’m scared.”

The broken octave of her voice is felt deep in Harry’s chest, that primal and protective sensation kicking in again. It makes his brows twist in something that can only be described as annoyance. But it’s not directed at her, Harry doesn’t think it ever could be.

“I don’t see an end where we all make it out of this.”

The admittance she whispers aloud is frightening to her. As if speaking her fear is willing its existence to the universe. It has her cowering into herself with shaky breaths and eyes tightly shut.

“We will,” Harry speaks, not allowing a second of doubt to build in her pretty little head. “I’ll make sure of it.”

Her eyes peak open slowly, readjusting to the darkness again when Harry slowly inches closer until the tip of his nose nudges against hers.

“Before Sammy died, he always told me to look out for you — in case anything ever happened to him. I keep my promises, Penny. No matter what it takes.”

She believes him, wholeheartedly. She trusts that he’ll keep her safe, that he’ll fight for the club. The blanket of safety that comes with Harry’s presence begins to consume her — keeps her close and warm and respected.

Maybe that’s why her eyes begin to droop until she can no longer keep them open. She cuddles into his chest, face nuzzling in the crook of his warm neck and his scent envelopes her senses as she slips into a slumber.

Harry can feel her soft breathing even out until her body relaxes against his. He lays awake, admiring the slope of her nose and her lashes that flatten across her cheekbones.

The need and desire to keep her safe prevails over any other senses. His mind falls short when he considers what he wouldn’t do to protect her, to give her the life she deserves.

And it’s not because Sam asked him to.

When the sun rises and the moon rests, the tension they felt the day before returns full force. Few words are shared between the four of them as they prepare for the day ahead. It’s like nobody wants to state the obvious, that this could very well be the last time Jimmy and Ashley see Harry and Y/N.

She tries her best not to think about it, not to get too deep in her head. She’s brushing her teeth in the bathroom, eyes lacking their usual glint but that’s no surprise — she doesn’t think it’s been there since Sammy’s death.

A knock on the door breaks her gaze from her reflection. Harry leans on the door frame, arms folded over his chest as he offers the young woman a soft smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Jimmy’s just finished replacing the window. We’re good to go whenever you’re ready.”

He keeps his voice light and soft, not wanting to pressure her when their situation is already stressful enough. She nods her head slowly at his words, rinsing off the toothbrush under the water.

“Yeah, okay. Uh, just give me a minute?”

“Sure. I’ll be downstairs when you’re ready.”

He leaves her in the bathroom, bounding down the stairs as he returns to his friends in the garage. Jimmy’s wiping his hands on an old rag before flinging it across his shoulder.

“She’s all set, changed out your back tire, too. Looked like it was about to blow.”

Their hands meet in a greeting, chests bumping in that brosome hug most guys do. Harry sits his hands on his hips as he takes a look at the Chevy. As good as new, he thinks.

“Man, I appreciate you and Ash helping us out. You really saved our asses last night.”

Jimmy waves his hand in dismissal as he shakes his head. “Don’t worry about it, it’s what brothers do.”

There’s an appreciative smile on Harry’s face as the door opens again and Y/N’s body shuffles through. Even from across the garage, he can see that glimmer of uncertainty in her eyes.

She approaches quickly, and by the way her shoulders are slightly raised and head a little ducked, Harry can tell she’s anxious.

He holds an arm in the air for her, allowing her to settle into his side before resting the arm across her shoulders.

“Thank you, for everything,” she says just loud enough for Jimmy to hear.

He nods curtly, leaning forward on one foot with an open palm for her to shake. “It was lovely meeting you, Y/N. I’m just sorry it was under these circumstances.”

She smiles through pursed lips and shakes his head with the same pressure he offers. “Me too.”

She excuses herself to load the bags into the back of the Chevy and waits for Harry in the passenger's seat. Y/N watches them chatter quietly, the mention of Ashley being at work and that if they need anything to not hesitate to call.

It’s merely a couple of minutes before Harry joins her in the car, twisting the key to start up the engine and as he pulls out of the garage, he throws his arm out of his window to wave goodbye to Jimmy.

They share a look as they drive down the road, a nervous glance that promises they’re in this together. Harry reaches for her hand in her lap and intertwines their fingers.

She doesn’t say anything as he guides their hands to his mouth and presses a kiss on her knuckles. And he doesn’t say anything when she squeezes his a little tighter.

They remain silent for the most of their drive. It’s late afternoon by the time they arrive at the club and it’s safe to say their guards are up high. They’re eyes are scanning every inch of roads they drive through, hearts thumping in fear and anticipation.

But they don’t see anything.

Harry pulls up outside, putting the car in park and they both exit. There’s an eerie energy that surrounds them, like the universe is taunting and playing on their fears.

They can’t ignore it, even if they tried.

They enter through the back door, feet scuffling against the concrete ground as Harry guides her through. Niall had already rounded up the guys with the prompt of a family meeting taking place. So it’s no surprise that they’re already gathered by one of the boxing rings.

“Thank you all for coming,” Harry calls out to everyone as he and Y/N make their way closer to the group.

There’s a few mumbles of replies and gasps at the sight of Harry’s bruised face, and lots of nodding heads when they come to a stop before them.

“I’m sure you’re all familiar with the Scavello brothers and what they did to Sammy,” a chorus of disgruntled expressions appear throughout the faces of the group.

Y/N can’t look — keeps her eyes downcast on the floor.

“Well, they’re no longer in hiding. They’re back and they’re after us,” he sways his finger between himself and Y/N, “And this club.”

Niall steps forward, inching closer to the pair who regard the larger group. “We don’t know what’s going to happen, but everyone needs to be prepared in case something does.”

Harry watches the way his members nod their heads and clench knuckles into fists. He can feel the anger and heartbreak that resonates within the gym.

“I need every single one of you on guard in case they show up. This is Sam’s life here. And we’re going to protect it like it’s our own. Understood?”

It’s been four days.

Four long, gruelling days of looking over their shoulders and Y/N keeping her keys between her fingers whenever she goes to and from her car alone. Not that that’s been a regular thing, Harry had convinced her to stay with him and his place. And after a bit of compromise, Harry agreed to stay at Y/N’s so she wasn’t on her own.

And it was a bit awkward at first. She didn’t ask for him to stay in her bedroom with her, allowed him to turn the sofa into his temporary bed. But by the second day, the awkwardness evened out to a disturbingly, comfortable, domesticated situation.

Y/N cooked and Harry cleaned. They picked shows to watch together and neither left the house alone. Y/N remains on emergency leave for a week, but Harry’s assured her that when she returns, he’ll drop her off and pick her up.

There won’t be a chance for the same thing to happen again.

Today is no different. They woke up together, picked at their breakfast — both still struggling to find their appetite — and drove in Harry’s Chevy to the club this afternoon.

It’s nearing 5:30 p.m. and they’re both sitting together in the office. Y/N’s sipping on her coffee with a Manila folder in hand, Harry typing data into the computer while taking sips of his own blend every now and then.

“Do you think it’s a good idea to host fight nights with all this going on?”

Harry pauses his typing for a moment, head tilting as he looks at her. He hums, nods slowly. “You’re probably right, we’re just losing money each night that we don’t. The guys are gonna start getting frustrated. For a lot of ‘em it’s the only source of income they’ve got.”

It’s a tricky one, Y/N knows that. Their livelihood is important, but so is their safety. It seems more likely that the Scavello brothers would make an appearance on a busy night like tonight. Friday Fight Night.

A thought occurs to her. “What about an advance?”

Harry’s bows knit together. “An advance?”

“Yeah,” she nods. “We’ve got just over two hundred grand stashed under the floorboards, Har. We can offer an advance to those who need it — they can pay back in instalments when we start up fights again.”

He mulls the idea over for a few seconds, not really finding many cons to the proposal. He nods his head, digging through the draws of the desk for a notepad and pen.

“Want me to go and take names?”

Harry shakes his head. “We need to get this place looking legit first. Destroy anything that holds passwords, account numbers — anything that tries back to the illegal fights. If they or the Feds come snooping, our noses are clean and they have nothing to say otherwise.”

Y/N’s about to reply, to suggest burning any correlating paperwork when a ruckus from outside the office and in the gym is heard.

They look at one another, eyes wide and churning stomachs. Harry stands first, bringing a finger to his lips as he motions for Y/N to stay quiet. The ruckus gets a bit louder, a chorus of disgruntled sounds heard.

Harry inches toward the door first, an arm outstretched to his side in an attempt to keep Y/N behind him. She follows suit, hands trembling slightly and she struggles to see over his broad shoulders.

But Harry can see. He sees the three brothers, but they’re not alone. They’ve brought a posse with them and their hands are all equipped with anything you could think to use as a weapon.

Hammers, knives, baseball bats. If it wasn’t such a dire situation, he’d find it ironic that Ryce is gripping a crowbar.

He’s the first to notice Harry’s presence and his blood is quick to run cold. He taps at Y/N’s side, trying his best to buff out his body to shield hers from their view.

“Stay in the office and lock the door. Text Jimmy and get rid of everything.”

He shoves her backward slightly, reaching for the door handle to close it behind him. She locks the door with nimble fingers, racing around the desk to retrieve Harry’s phone and find Jimmy’s contact.

It’s Y/N. They’re here.

She drops the phone on the desk after sending the message, opening the bottom drawer of the filing cabinet. She can’t stop her hands from trembling, has to continuously replay the plan in her head.

Jimmy calls the police which gives Y/N time to destroy anything illegal while Harry fights them off just long enough for the police to arrive, and everyone prays that nobody gets hurt or killed in the meantime.

No matter how many times she reminds herself of the plan, it doesn’t soothe her fears. Anything could go wrong at any given moment.

It’s not just the three of them this time, they brought friends and it’s going to get messy.

She grabs Harry’s gym bag from the corner of the room and collapses to her knees by the desk. Her fingernails struggle to pry the floorboards up until she spots a flat-headed screwdriver poking out from the gym's tool bag.

It works to her advantage, a few good tugs and pulls and the floorboard pops up with a creak. She’s careful when she pulls it out completely, throwing it to the side and grabbing handfuls of the wads of cash.

Her movements are frantic as she shoves them into the duffle bag, the commotion from outside growing louder and louder. She fills the bag with the money and rushes to take off her jacket, throwing it into the bag to hide the cash and she zips it up, kicking it under the table and smacking her floorboard back in place.

Y/N moves to the filing cabinet, fumbling through the drawers in the desk for a lighter. The papers she retrieved earlier are thrown into the trash can, fingers desperate to spark a light but a thumping on the office door stops her — panics her.

It bursts open after the fourth budge, hinges almost flying off and there he stands, Ryce Scavello, bloody and bruised and gripping a crowbar.

All colour drains from her skin, a sickness within her stomach that’s all-consuming. There’s a maniacal smirk painted across his thin lips and the mark across his neck from her use of the aforementioned weapon still paints his skin deeply.

“Are you going to put up a fight as good as your brother?”

That fear morphs into anger the second the words escape his mouth, her eyes dark and blood cold. She flicks the lighter once more and it sparks a tall flame, and just as he’s about to step toward her, she throws it into the trash and the documents burn in a blaze.

Y/N dodges the first swing he throws, the curled edge of the crowbar nipping at her hair and pulling a few strands out of her ponytail. She can hear her heartbeat in her ears as she ducks from another hit and he laughs at her, sadistically.

“Well you’re certainly as fast as him. Did he teach you that, hmm? Did big brother Sammy teach you how to fight before I killed him?”

She does her best to block out his words, raising her fists to cover her face and her legs spread in the same stance Sam had taught her growing up.

She channels him, everything he ever showed her. She lets her brain reminisce about their occasional sparring sessions because Sam was hellbent on teaching her the right ways to defend herself.

Back then she always told him he was being dramatic, that she’d never put herself in a situation where she’d need to fight for her life.

And now, she can hear his reply in her ears, as clear as day: These situations find you, and you need to be prepared for them.

Ryce lunges for her again, catching her in the temple with his fist at the same time she kicks into his kneecap. The crunch of his bone is heard but it doesn’t stop him.

He somehow gets closer and wraps his hand around her throat, a vice-like grip as he slams her body onto the desk and knocks everything off, her and Harry’s coffees spilling on the floor.

Y/N thrashes her legs against him, fingernails scratching at the skin of his face as her thumbs probe harshly into his eyes. Ryce’s grip loosens just enough for her to try to shuffle away, but his hand is replaced with the crowbar and he’s choking her out like she did to him.

He’s seething above her, her own hands now desperate on the bar to try to pull it off, to give herself relief. It doesn’t work, he’s overpowering in every sense and the lack of oxygen she gets makes it harder to move.

Y/N’s eyes are frantically searching for something — anything — to use to her advantage. Her line of sight falls short until she notices the large metal stapler that’s hanging off the edge of the desk. She pries her fingers out as she stretches for it, nails scratching against the metal until she’s able to flick it closer.

The second she’s able to wrap her fingers around the stapler, her arm swings and it thuds heavily against the side of Ryce’s head. Once, twice, three times.

His hold on the crowbar across her throat loosens until he drops it onto the floor. Y/N’s gasping for air, eyes wide and chest heaving as he holds the side of his head in agony.

That’s how Harry finds them — Ryce on top of her on the desk, grunting in pain and anger. He doesn’t allow him another moment to regain himself before Harry swings for the side of his face and Ryce’s body clambers to the floor and off Y/N.

She’s frantic, struggling to grasp reality as Harry reaches her. His hands find her face, gentle touch as he coos to her, promises her it’s okay and he’s got her.

She gets a look at him, bloody and bruised and his bottom lip is split and already swelling. Y/N sits up with the help of Harry at the sounds of blaring sirens and she turns to him, swallowing thickly.

“Grab the money, we need to go.”

Her gaze meets the unconscious body on the floor, anxiety still bubbling in her chest at the realisation that in a few short minutes, this could be completely over with.

Harry reaches for the bag of money when he notices the trash can on fire. He doesn’t need to ask to know she’s burned the documents. They leave the contained fire to burn as they leave the office, both hobbling and gasping for breath.

Police begin to infiltrate the gym, batons in hand and guards to their bodies — as they would for any kind of riot. There’s at least seven officers, all shouting commands to get on the ground or stay where they are.

The gym is in distress. Photo frames and trophies on shelves have been smashed and broken, weights are strewn across the floor, some clean and some with blood. Their hands all reach into the air in a form of surrender and before long, the majority of the trainers and rioters are in cuffs.

An officer approaches Y/N and Harry, quite polite as he assures them he isn’t going to cuff them unless given reason.

“A few of your friends said you two are the owners?”

Harry nods, clearing his throat. “Yeah, that’s right. We were in the office when they showed up and then a fight broke out.”

The officer squints at Y/N and she squints back, reading his name tag as Jones. He looks back to Harry.

“Who’s they?”

“Ryce, George and Scott Scavello. They’re brothers.”

Officer Jones raises an eyebrow at Y/N’s words. “You know them?”

“Uh, we’ve had some trouble with them in the past.”

Y/N’s head snaps to look at Harry, wonders what the fuck he’s going to tell the police, if it’s really a good idea to mention what they did to Sammy. Couldn’t Harry get into trouble for withholding evidence about a crime for all this time?

Jones clears his throat. “Do you wanna expand on that?”

Y/N decides to speak up again. “My brother, Sam, owned this place with Harry before he died. The Scavello brothers tried to join the gym but Sam didn’t want that kind of riffraff associated with the company. They didn’t take it well and now, I guess this is them fighting it.”

Harry watches her with fluttering eyes, slightly amazed and somewhat concerned with how easily she was able to fabricate part of the truth like that.

Officer Jones nods as he jotts down a rough summary of her words, looking to Harry in case he has anything more to offer.

He blubbers for a moment. “Uh, yeah… what she said.”

He writes a little more, turning to look over his shoulder to no doubt report anything extra he may need to. It’s only for a couple of seconds, which allows Y/N and Harry to share a look that screams don’t say anything stupid, and he’s back to facing them again.

“So, you say you’re the owners?”

Harry and Y/N nod simultaneously, eyes downcast to somewhat avoid the officers gaze. He hums, scribbling some more.

“Do you have proof of that?”

Harry nods. “Yeah, I can get you the ownership contract.”

Y/N watches meticulously, tries to work out what Officer Jones is writing by the way he scribbles but it’s no use. He taps the pen on the pad, looking around.

“Do you have any security footage? So we can confirm your story.”

Y/N looks at Harry. Do they? She hopes there isn’t a camera in the office, or else they’ll find the footage of her burning illegal evidence. But if they have cameras in the gym, isn’t that going to expose the fight nights? Her head is spinning.

“Yeah…. Niall!” Harry calls over for the blond, who quickly jogs over with a bruised eye and a cut across the bridge of his nose.

“Ni, would you mind showing Officer Jones the security footage from this evening.”

Y/N swallows thickly, watching as Niall guides Jones into the trashed office. She smacks Harry’s arm, eyes wide when he turns to her with pinched brows.

“Ouch… what was that for?”

She grits her teeth. “Why have you done that? He’s going to find all sorts on the cameras!”

Harry lets out a soft laugh and shakes his head. “We turn the cameras off at night.”

He watches her body visibly relax; shoulders slumping and eyes dropping. From their spot by the office, they can see the damage that’s been done.

Blood stains the floor in several places, gym equipment broken and there are at least seven holes in the walls that Y/N can see. She spots the brothers, all conscious now and strapped up with cuffs.

There’s a few more officers that take statements from the members of the gym, a couple of those being detained for aggravated assault and they don’t bother to argue that it was self defence. They played their part, they protected Sam’s legacy. And they know both Harry and Y/N will bail them out by morning anyway.

The adrenaline rush that she’s been on for the past week is slowly seeping from her pores. She doesn’t think she’s ever felt this exhausted in her entire life and the harsh realisation of what they’ve been through begins to hit her like a tonne of bricks.

“Harry,” she whispers softly, “I don’t think I can stay here anymore.”

He turns to her with pinched brows but her gaze is far too focused on the blank space ahead of her to realise.

“What?”

She swallows. “There’s too much pain here. Everything hurts since losing Sammy.” Her voice breaks as she speaks.

Harry blinks rapidly, trying to make sense of the situation. He thought they had something, that something genuine was forming between them and now she wants to leave? To run away?

“What about the club?”

She scoffs out a laugh, finally looking at him now. “You had it on lock this whole time.”

“Well what about me?” he argues. “What about us?”

There’s hurt in his voice and Y/N can’t help but feel confused butterflies in her stomach. Us? She never considered that there would be. Despite the two times they hooked up and the intimacy their friendship shared, she didn’t think Harry would ever want anything more. And now he’s telling her that he does?

It hurts her, deep in her soul. Because she harbours feelings for the fighter, strong feelings. But the thought of it scares her too much. What would Sammy think if he could see them now?

When she doesn’t reply, Harry speaks again.

“If you really want to leave, I’ll come with you.”

She laughs at this, and she laughs loud. Shaking her head, she looks at Harry again. That hopeful glint shines in his eyes and it breaks her heart.

“No, Harry. You barely even know me.”

“I know enough,” he retorts quickly.

Her hands find her hips as she turns her body to face his. “Harry—“

“No, come on,” he interrupts her, “Whatever this is between us is only just starting. Don’t walk out on it.”

She huffs, frustrated. “I’m not walking out on it.”

“You’ll regret it if you do. You’ll regret leaving the club and my Gran will be so heartbroken…”

“Hey,” she pouts. “Don’t bring Mary into this.”

“It’s true!”

There’s a wide smile on his lips now and one creeps its way onto Y/N’s, too. He knows what’s going on in her head — how she’s considering what he’s saying, what he’s feeling.

His gaze softens when their eyes meet again. Harry reaches for her hands, his thumbs brushing over her knuckles.

“At least think about it a little more before you decide to leave. Don’t make hasty decisions…”

“Harry…” she sighs, her smile faded to a slight grimace.

He’s right and she knows it. But it doesn’t take away the pain she feels in this town. It doesn’t make moving on from her brother's death any easier. Everything is a constant reminder of him and what happened to him.

Everything but Harry.

“Go on a date with me,” he proposes, though it’s more of a statement than a question.

Y/N’s brows raise as a smile tugs at the corners of her mouth. “What?”

“C’mon, one date. And if I can’t convince you that we have something real, and that you should stay… then I’ll understand.”

She catches her bottom lip between her teeth and weighs out her options. She could very easily decline and leave town right now, to never speak to him again or return.

But the idea of going on a date and seeing where this connection goes sounds a little more enticing. Because deep down she knows that running away won’t solve anything. It won’t make her forget the truth.

If she leaves now, she’ll never come back. And she’ll forever regret walking away from her brother's legacy and whatever her and Harry could’ve been.

He dips his head down to catch her line of sight again, a playful smirk etched onto his face as he squeezes her hands. Y/N makes her decision there and then; to not run away, but to stay and see where fate will take her.

“Fine,” she smiles. “One date.”

Feedback is always welcomed and appreciated!

Tags: @kissfromadove @stilesissaved @kiwitsayedsugar @savannahwendel @triski73 @stylesfever @babyyhoneyyy @theresnooneheretosave @ellaorchard @itsmytimetoodream @daphnesutton @matildasatellite

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

55 notes · View notes

amorgansgal · 8 hours

Text

Doing Something Unholy

So, as inspired by a post @waterdeepwhiskey and with encouragement from @waterdeep-weavemoss I have written some glorious smutty filth, involving Gale and a Female Reader/Tav fucking in front of Mystra's statue. Hope you all enjoy some nice, vindictative fucking!

Gale x Female Reader/Tav

CW: Sexual content, oral sex, sex in public

It seemed like no one in camp wanted to tell you where Gale had gone off to. Granted, you both weren’t possessive of each other or needed to know where one another was at all times. But everyone was acting very oddly. You’d narrowed your chosen targets for interrogation to Halsin and Karlach. Most would likely keep the matter a secret, but you felt like an appeal of the heart might win Karlach over and a plea of just wanting honesty would work with Halsin.

You headed over to Karlach’s tent, tucked away between two buildings and she immediately began to fuss with her belongings, as though she had changed her mind on where everything should go. ‘Karlach,’ you began warningly.

‘Hey soldier!’ she said brightly. ‘I… um… I have to… Wyll wants me to help with dinner, so…’

‘You burnt dinner last time you helped with it,’ you pointed out.

‘I know, that’s why I’m on chopping duty. He thinks I can manage that, so I ought to get going, those carrots won’t-!’

‘Karlach, please, where’s Gale?’

She sighed and looked over to the others. You glanced behind you and saw Shadowheart watching you both, a troubled frown on her face and by the looks of things having just shook her head. You snapped your head back around to look at Karlach.

‘Don’t lie to me, where is he?’ For a horrible minute you wondered if he was at Sharess Caress, it seemed so unlike him, even the way the Drow twins had spoken to you had made him deeply uncomfortable. He had said so. But where the hell could he be if he wasn’t there? And why hadn’t he told you where he had gone or what he was up to?

‘He… you remember we visited Stormshore Tabernacle where there was the statue of Mystra?’ Karlach said, evidently deciding it was better to tell you and risk Shadowheart’s annoyance.

‘The statue of Mystra?’ you repeated, almost dumbly.

‘Yeah, he said he wanted to… uh… go and look at it.’

‘Why does looking at a statue take the better part of an hour?’ you asked, Karlach gave a bemused shrug.

‘I don’t know, but I’m sure he’ll be back soon.’

‘And he wanted to keep this a secret from me?’

‘Well, I don’t know about a secret…’

You scowled formidably, snatched up your cloak from a pile of clean laundry and began to head back out to the city. You evidently needed a good talk with your lover, if that was what he was up to. Karlach called out to you to wait, but you decided to forgo travelling with the group and shouted over your shoulder, ‘We’ll be back in a minute or two!’ Thankfully no one followed you after that.

***

Stormshore Tabernacle was quiet after dark, the door was still open, but the priest was gone for the evening. Flickering candles illuminated the now subdued hall, casting shadow and golden light over the faces of the stone gods. You snuck in through the door, closing it behind you and immediately spotted Gale, who hadn’t even noticed your presence. His gaze was transfixed on the carved visage of Mystra and if you hadn’t known better you would have assumed he was hexed or frozen to the spot by a spell.

‘Gale,’ you murmured, and he jumped, quickly turning around to look at you.

‘Gods, I thought you were-’ he coughed and looked sheepish. ‘Well, I hardly know, an enemy of some sort. Spend half our days fighting that I’m starting to look for them when they aren’t even there.’

You carefully approached the statue and looked up at Mystra. The same electrifying jolt that you had felt when you first visited sent a shiver down your skin, the weave was stronger here with just her depiction alone. It both warmed and cooled you at the same time, made you feel a little dizzy and jubilant with the sweet promise of power.

‘Not so much an enemy,’ you said, looking at Mystra’s face. Even you wouldn’t admit to being an enemy of a god, that was far too risky and undeniably tempting for a god to put you in your place. ‘But something of a rival I suppose.’

‘Ah,’ he replied. ‘Look you have no reason to fear-’

‘Do I not? Most people would not take kindly to their supposed lover spending the better part of an evening staring at a depiction of their ex-lover.’

‘No, and I understand why you would fear my loyalty, but you need not doubt me. I came here to work out a few things in my head.’

‘A few things you couldn’t talk about with me?’

‘I didn’t want to talk to you about them because I fear I talk about Mystra too much and I didn’t want you to feel like that’s what I always do. But perhaps I should’ve,’ he admitted quietly.

‘Yes, or at least told me that’s what you had planned to do! And not made everyone in camp keep it a silly little secret.’

He hummed in agreement and nodded. ‘I’m sorry, it does feel silly now. I just… I look at her and I don’t feel how I felt a long time ago. My feelings towards her are complicated, but love doesn’t feel part of it, I don’t feel I can love her anymore. I don’t feel I want to love her anymore.’ He wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you close to him, you were caught between the altar for Mystra and Gale’s firm chest under the warm softness of the velvet cloak he wore. ‘I love you, entirely, completely. You have my heart in the palm of your hand and I can do nothing but beg you to keep it.’

You couldn’t help smiling at his declaration and he seized the opportunity, cupping your face and kissing you. It had been a sweet, gentle kiss at first, but as you wrapped your arms around his shoulders and his hands found your waist, he pressed you up against the altar. He nipped your lower lip, a silent plea to allow him access to your mouth, and you conceded, letting him slip his tongue between your teeth. His hands drifted further down to your thighs and butt and he lifted you up till you were sat on the altar.

Perhaps you should have questioned whether this was a good idea, perhaps you would have advised it not be worth risking the anger of a goddess for momentary pleasure, but the part of your brain the quite frankly couldn’t stand the goddess and what she had done to Gale won out. Let her deal with you fucking her ex-lover, let her deal with the fact that you had stopped Gale from detonating the orb, that he wanted to give you the whole world and his loyalty to her as a worshipper was shaky at best!

You had already made light work of the laces on his breeches and slipped your hand inside, stroking his already hard cock, pre-cum already slick on your fingers, you ran it down the length and smiled as Gale groaned against your mouth. He pressed hot, needy kisses down your neck. ‘Gods, we shouldn’t do this,’ he muttered, though he didn’t sound very convinced by the suggestion.

‘Do you really want to stop?’ you murmured enticingly and stroked him again, he let out a delightful, tremulous breath he let out as you did. You would’ve stopped if he said no, but instead he scrabbled with the material of the dress you wore, tugging up the skirt till it was around your hips. His fingers easily found your slit and he bit back a groan finding you wet and wanting. Gale trailed them up to your clit and you let out a quiet moan in the temple at the heady rush of pleasure you felt. Perhaps it was all the more delicious and delightful to be doing something so wicked and sinful in a temple of the gods.

He pulled you forwards, closer to the edge of the altar and then went to his knees. You bit back a smile and his eyes gleamed in the half-light. ‘I’ve heard tell that love is a sacrament that should be taken kneeling. Consider me a humble worshipper,’ he said and began to kiss up your thigh.

He reached the apex and kept a tight hold on your legs, pressed his mouth against your slit and began to lap, kissing and sucking on your clit and making you gasp and moan and squirm on the stone table. Your hand knocked off a necklace that someone had left as an offering as you desperately tried to find purchase, even as your head dropped back from the pleasure Gale’s clever, well practised tongue was easily drawing from your body. You would’ve happily let him continue, but you didn’t want to risk being interrupted and your body felt like a taut bow string.

‘Gale,’ you panted. ‘We can’t… we need to be quick…’

He let out a groan of frustration and drew back a little. His face was flushed and his lips and chin were covered with your slick, even that sent a shiver of desire running through you.

‘I like taking my time,’ he pouted.

‘And I like not having my pleasure interrupted by a priest who might overhear us and come looking!’

Gale got up and wrapped a tight arm around your waist, kissing you frantically, his fingers dug into the meat of your thighs and he groaned as his cock brushed against your sopping wet clit. You shifted your hips just a little and he easily slipped inside you. Gale let out a quiet moan, his face buried into your shoulder and he bit down, trying to quieten himself as you whimpered at the feel of him.

‘Fuck,’ he breathed against your neck. ‘You feel so good.’

‘Better than all the heavens and anything Mystra could offer?’

He raised his head, a wicked smile on his lips. ‘Far better.’ He fucked you hard and fast, hips slamming into yours, his fingers fumbled against your clit, working quickly to bring about your pleasure and it was all you could do to keep one hand gripping the stone altar to stop you from falling back and another hand fisted into the material of Gale’s shirt. The quiet temple was filled with the sound of skin on skin, the soft pants and moans from you both as you rushed to find your pleasure. Until finally Gale let out a rather loud groan as he buried himself to the hilt within you and you felt his release, you shuddered around him as he easily brought you to your own bliss. Your head fell backwards and you saw the cold, stony face of Mystra.

‘Fuck you, you fucking bitch, look at how well he fucks me on your precious little altar,’ you thought in your head, though even after all that you had done you dared not say it aloud. It was petty of you, but truth be told it made you feel good. You both got your breath back and once Gale had tidied himself away, he offered a hand to help you down from the altar.

‘Ah,’ he said, and on turning, you saw you had left a rather sizable wet patch on the stone. Gale lifted his hand, presumably to cast prestidigitation to remove it, but you caught hold of his arm.

‘Leave it, consider it our offering to her,’ you insisted.

‘Tav,’ he warned. ‘She will not be pleased.’

‘Is she ever? Besides, it’s a little too late for that, and what’s she going to do, stick another orb in you?’

He chuckled and shook his head. Gale gazed at the wet patch for a moment longer, then placed his arm around your waist. You thought he would insist on cleaning it up, but instead he guided you from the temple and you both made your way down the steps and back to camp.

#gale of waterdeep #gale dekarios #bg3 gale #gale x you #gale x female reader #gale x f/reader #gale x f!reader #gale dekarios x female reader #gale dekarios x f/reader #gale dekarios x f!reader #gale of waterdeep x tav #gale of waterdeep x female reader #gale of waterdeep x f!reader #gale dekarios x tav #gale x tav #gale smut #tav x gale #gale bg3

52 notes · View notes

khunyuki · 1 day

Text

"I've lived my life with blade and you always in my mind"

ꜱɪᴅᴇ ꜱᴛᴏʀʏ: 𝚌. 𝚆𝚎 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚌𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚎𝚊𝚌𝚑 𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛, 𝚍𝚒𝚍𝚗'𝚝 𝚠𝚎?

Synopsis: After their very first mission as Defense Force Officers, Kagami and Soshiro promised to take care of each other when they got injured. That means taking the entire day/week off just to nurse them back to health. A few years have passed since then without any significant injuries, that's why it came as a surprise to Kagami when a certain someone came knocking at the First Division's front doors.

Pairing/s: Hoshina Soshiro x Fiancee!OC

Note/s: I'm posting this first cuz jealousy, jealousy was hard to write hahaha. It might take long but i'll definitely be posting that later tonight. Don't worry cuz reading this first doesn't affect anything hehe. Also, I changed the synopsis so readers won't be confused hehe. Enjoy <3

Genre: Fluff

Masterlist: TOC, a, b

A few years back, when Kagami and Soshiro were still in the same division, they made a promise to each other.

"You were pretty reckless"

Kagami scolded the purple haired guy laying on the hospital bed with a bandages on his legs. Her words, heavily laced with concern.

"I could say the same with you"

Soshiro side eyed the black haired girl who was laying on the hospital bed besides his own. Her injuries were as bad as his, with the bandages on her head instead of her legs.

Kagami just averted his gaze, focusing instead on the fruits basket placed atop the drawer besides them. She picked up an apple, along with a small knife and plate, and started cutting it.

Soshiro could only sigh at his fiancee's evasiveness, though it did bring back the smile on his face. It wasn't unusual for them to be injured during a mission given their line of work. Most of the time, they'll get a few minor scratches here and there but not enough to guarantee a hospital stay. He was glad she only required a few stitches and that there weren't any lasting effects to her head.

"That, I want mine cut into bunnies"

Soshiro noticed that she finished cutting and requested for her to style it into bunnies. Without question, she did just that. He watched as she struggled to peel only the skin and not the flesh, laughing when she failed to do so.

"It's not funny"

Kagami complained with a pout, knowing full well that her struggling gives him joy. She once again heard his chuckle as she successfully massacred another slice. She looked at the mess in front of her and frowned. Cutting things was easy but peeling them was harder, especially if it's as small as this apple.

She can't complain though, this was one of her duties as his future wife. She's been practicing for this her whole life yet continued to fail over and over again. It didn't mean she'll give up as she uses her failure as her drive to do better.

"Want me to do it?"

Soshiro offered his help, still smiling in amusement as she shook her head no. Every little things she does brings a smile on his face, even something as small as failing to peel an apple properly. He'd find her words and actions as funny no matter how she thinks it isn't. Her reactions are so amusing to him, causing him to not stop trying to tease her.

Thank goodness she was skilled enough not to cut her fingers though or else he would've snatched that knife faster than she could react. No way he'd allow her to be hurt on his watch. It was already unfortunate enough for them to be in different squads thus resulting in their current situation, had he known he would've done better.

"I'm done"

Kagami declared and ate the massacred apple slices by herself.

"Wait, wait! I thought that was for me?"

Soshiro tried to stop her from eating it all and not leaving some for him.

"It was... but it's ugly so I can't give it to you"

Kagami was kinda upset she didn't get to make apple bunnies properly so she decided to eat it as to not waste food.

"Feed it to me"

Soshiro, in all seriousness with open eyes, demanded she stop and feed it all to him. No way he's letting all her hard work go to waste. She cut and peeled it for him so he'll eat it no matter what.

"W-what?"

Kagami was surprised at his sudden demand. She couldn't resist him, especially not when he opens his eyes to show her how serious he is.

"I said feed it to me~"

With a mischevious grin, he was back to his foxy attitude. He opened his mouth in an 'ahhh', showcasing his want to be fed.

"Y-you can do it yourself!"

Flustered, Kagami tried to look away. Offering him the entire plate so he could eat by himself.

"But my legs are injured and I can't move"

His eyes were closed but how was it possible to see him making puppy eyes at her? Paired with that pout, a fox like him acted like a sad dog.

"You can move your hands though"

Resist. Resist the temptations Kagami! Do not move your hands! Stop moving your hands!

"Ahhh~"

Opening his mouth, Soshiro was successfully fed by the red faced Kagami. His purple eyes bore holes into Kagami's own as he teasingly licked his own lips as an expression.

"Yum~"

Uzui Kagami.exe has stopped working.

"Excuse me but can you do your flirting elsewhere? The rest of us wants to sleep in peace"

A random officer mustered his courage to speak up. He tried to hide his flustered face by pretending to cough. The rest of the officer were looking away from them, red in the face, yet still nodded in agreement.

Kagami dropped the plate she was holding and teleported inside the blankets of her own bed. The plate of apples was fortunately caught by cackling Soshiro who was well aware of their audience.

Nobody said they were the only ones in the room hehe.

"Kagami? Why are you still here?"

Kagami, who was discharged yesterday, came back the next day to take care of her fiance.

"I took a day off"

"Why?"

Surprised by her actions, Soshiro couldn't help by ask why she would specifically ask for a day off when she's never done so before. Also, he was supposed to be discharged later today.

"I want to take care of you... because you're my fiancee"

"Then next time, I'll be the one to take care of you"

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~~•~•~•~

Whenever Soshiro visits the hospital, he thinks of that moment fondly. When they were still rookies, they would sometimes end up getting injured thus resulted in taking care of each other. Now that they were a bit more experienced, they no longer had to take care of each other in the hospital. It was better that way as it signifies that they were healthy and safe.

Still, as he reads the newspaper on his hospital bed, he couldn't help but let his mind wander in his wish to have his fiancee be there to take care of him. It was fine though, cause he didn't know how to break the news of him moving to the Third Division to her just yet. Also, he never really told her he got injured during his visit there.

When Captain Ashiro and Platoon Leader Ebina visited him earlier, he thought it was her. He was a bit disappointed but the offer they brought was enough to lift his spirits. He'd been wanting this for a long time. Someone who recognizes his efforts and need his strength. Somewhere he would be needed and not be treated like a tumor.

Kagami had always been by his side, supporting him, and finally there was someone else who believes in him like her. He wants her to join him there so they could leave the past and look forward.

Suddenly, there was a knock on the door and a familiar head peek inside. Soshiro saw the face of the person he'd been expecting to see the whole time. His heart fluttered when he saw her after thinking about her like he manifested her visit.

"I'm sorry I'm late. There was a long line at the cafe so it took a bit too long to buy this"

She headed inside and showed him something she was hiding on her back. In her hands was a small box with a dessert inside.

"Is that what I think it is?"

"Yeah. Mont Blanc!"

Kagami mirrored his excitement and confirmed his thoughts. She immediately prepared it for him, getting a plate and taking the dessert out of the box. She carefully placed it so as to not destroy its looks and offered it to him, which he accepted gratefully.

"By the way, I saw Captain Ashiro exiting the hospital earlier. Who do you think she visited here?"

Once she passed him the dessert, she took a seat at the chair beside him. He also took a bite before answering.

"Oh that, Remember how I went to the Third Division for a meeting? This and that happened and Captain Ashiro asked me to join the Third Division"

Soshiro recounted the story of what happened as soon as he got to the Third Division, the sudden appearance of a kaiju and how he helped with it, how he saved that kid and them being saved by Captain Mina, then the lastly, the offer given to him by the captain. Kagami attentively listened to his tales, reacting appropriately during significant parts. Soshiro greatly appreciates her lending an ear.

"Oh really? What was your answer?"

Finally, Kagami asked him what his answer to the offer was. It was something he had to prepare himself first before telling her as it was a big decision.

"I said yes"

Soshiro was filled with certainty at his decision. He didn't know how she'd react but he wanted to ask her to be with him as he moved too.

"Kagami, do you--"

Soshiro was cut off by an excited Kagami.

"Congrats! That's amazing! I knew there would be someone else who will recognize how great you are! I didn't think it would be THE Captain Ashiro Mina herself!"

She was so hyped up, so happy for him that he couldn't help but chuckle fondly. The tension he felt earlier disappeared and was replaced by fondness, feeling incredibly light.

"I'm sad that you'll be leaving but this is your chance to show the people from our division that they never should've underestimated you"

Her smile dropped once she thought that him moving was him leaving her alone. But still, she was smiling.

"Do you want to come with me? Captain Ashiro said her offer extends to you, as well"

Soshiro with greater courage now, seeing her smile drop, wanted to lift her spirits up. If he's moving to a better place, he wanted her to come with him too. At least they'll be together and won't be sad.

"Ehh? Really?? She's offering me to join the Third Division too???"

Surprised, Kagami couldn't believe her ears. Even her eyes as he nodded to affirm her words were true.

"Yeah, so what do you say?"

Soshiro turned back to his Mont Blanc to finally finish it as there only a few bites left. In doing so, he couldn't notice the storm brewing in Kagami's eyes.

"I'm sorry but I will have to decline"

Soshiro almost choked at her flat-out refusal. She offered him water in which he gratefully drank. He didn't think she'd refuse him like this. Sure she'd have doubts but usually she's agree with him.

"Why?"

Kagami took her time to answer and Soshiro found it hard to read her in that moment. Just when he started to think that something might be wrong, she looked him in the eyes with a determined expression.

"I also want to be recognized by my skills and not just because of goodwill. I want to prove myself to her so she'd be the one asking me to join herself"

While he didn't think she'd refuse him earlier, her explanation made a lot of sense. He'd refuse her too if it was him in her position. He only got this far because she and he believed in himself. They've both been doing their best to be the best version of themselves hoping someone will notice their efforts. So he wanted to believe she can do the same too.

"If it's you, I know you can do it"

Filled with the confidence that she shared with him, he ruffled her hair as they shared a hearty laugh.

They spent the entire day with each other. Kagami taking care of him until it was time to leave and Soshiro not wanting her to leave at all cuz he's such a baby when it comes to her. He didn't have to worry though cuz her days off lasted until he got better.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~~•~•~•~

True to her words, Kagami finally got someone else to see just what she is made of. While it may not be the captain of the Third Division that she caught the eye of, it was still a significant someone. That someone being the previous captain of the First Division and now the Director General of the Defense Force, Shinomiya Isao. It took a long time but she was finally there.

It wasn't an exaggeration to say that being in the First Division was hard. With everyone exceeding expectations by being capable of eliminating honjus on their own, the stakes are really high. Especially for a recently promoted Platoon Leader like Kagami, who didn't know just when she'll be kicked out. She wonders why she got promoted at all despite there people being stronger than her in the First Division.

It also wasn't an exaggeration that the kaijus appearing near the Ariake Maritime Base were stronger than most. So when the new recruits in her squad finally had their first mission, she had to be more alert than ever. Cuz new recruits are prone to danger, like the one she just saved from accidentally killing himself. Unfortunately for her, being around danger means she's also prone to getting injured.

"I'm really sorry, Platoon Leader Uzui!"

The new recruit she saved once again bowed down in front of her. He was the reason her left arm is in a cast, letting it heal naturally. It was an accident where a hidden yoju suddenly appeared catching them off guard. Kagami chose to prioritize her subordinate's safety than hers which lead to the current situation.

The application of using the regenerative ability of the kaijus in medical treatments was still being researched and is currently in its experimental stages, thus making it exclusive only to Defense Force higher ups.

Being a Platoon Leader, Kagami was lucky enough to be able to take part in it. Instead of suffering from a mangled arm requiring surgery, the treatment made it possible for her arm to heal quickly by mending her broken bones. In the end, it is still required for her to heal naturally and not move it much.

"Don't worry about it. I'm just glad you're safe. I don't want my subordinates to get hurt under my watch"

Kagami reassured the officer in front of her by placing her right hand on his arm. The officer was overwhelmed by the kindness she's showing that caused him to be emotional.

"Platoon Leader..."

"If you're really sorry, make sure you work hard to get stronger from now on"

Knowing what she said wasn't enough to remove his guilt, she encouraged him to be better.

"Yes, ma'am!"

The soldier saluted and finally left her alone. Kagami was about to leave as well when Vice Captain Hasegawa approached her. She greeted him with a salute and he nodded in return.

"You are as kind as ever, Platoon Leader Kagami. I know you want to save as many people as possible but you should not sabotage your health"

He complimented her, referencing about her interaction with an officer. He also scolded her for getting injured badly in concern.

"My apologies, sir. Umm... Is there something wrong? Is Captain Narumi causing trouble again?"

She gave a sheepish smile knowing she'll do it again if it mean saving someone. Though she couldn't help but noticed the troubled expression on his face which only means one thing: Captain Narumi.

"Somewhat. It has something to do with your visitor"

"Eh?"

Captain Narumi was causing trouble because of her visitor? But she wasn't expecting anyone to come visit her? Also, she didn't understand why the Vice Captain himself would tell her the news.

"You'll understand soon enough. Follow me"

Noticing her confusion, Vice Captain Hasegawa led her to where Captain Narumi and her visitor were.

As they got closer to the meeting room, she could hear Captain Narumi's boisterous voice. It was so loud that she didn't have to strain her ears to know that it was him. And there was also a familiar laughter coming inside the room. There's no way...

When Vice Captain Hasegawa opened the door for them to enter, she finally understood why Captain Narumi was reacting that way. Her fiancee, Vice Captain Hoshina Soshiro, was sitting in front of her Captain. His smug smile and foxy expression was clear enough for her to know that he's been teasing the guy the whole time.

"Vice Captain Hoshina?"

"Ahhh, you're here?"

Soshiro averted his gaze at his self-proclaimed rival to look at his fiancee, pointedly staring at her casted arm. His smile, straining a little bit with a frown.

"Today, I am here to request that Platoon Leader Uzui Kagami take a day off from work while she heals"

He finally revealed his intentions after seeing the two sitting down. Captain Narumi and Vice Captain Hasegawa were shocked at his request. They were expecting something else and didn't stop to think of such an absurd reason.

"Haaaa??? Who are you to ask for that with my Platoon Leader, haaa??"

Captain Narumi, having composed himself first grew more irritated. How could his rival talk for his Platoon Leader like that? His friend has a mind of her own and can request to rest by herself. He knew she was injured and wanted her to rest himself but having his rival demand that bring a bad taste to his mouth. It's not like he's forcing him to work, damn it.

"I'll say it in word you can understand. My fiancee is hurt and I demand you let her rest"

Fiancee?? They turned their heads to look at the blushing woman, embarrassed for being the source of this mess and the attention she's getting.

"Don't tell me you specifically came here just to ask that?"

She tried to compose herself by looking his way. Surely that wasn't the sole reason he came here?

"Of course, you wouldn't do so otherwise. Ah don't worry, I got permission to leave from Captain Ashiro so I could take care of you"

That's it. That's the end of her. How could he say such things so calmly in front of her superiors? She's sure as hell this would reach the ears of the whole division and they would not let her live it down. She couldn't even hide her face cause her free hand is too small to cover it.

"I have paperwork"

"That's fine. You can just bring it home and I'll help you"

Kagami can't do this anymore. Her superiors are digging holes into her and her fiancee's finds it too amusing to help her.

"Captain, Vice Captain, can I request for a leave until I heal enough to get back to work?"

Kagami asked for permission herself, trying to save herself despite it being a futile attempt. There's no stopping Soshiro when he's this stubborn.

"I'll grant you paid leave"

Vice Captain Hasegawa felt pity for his subordinate, who clearly want to bury herself in a hole, thus granting her wish.

"Thank you, sir"

Kagami stood up as fast as she could and left to go to her room. She ignore the curious glances thrown her way by confused onlookers, who rarely get to see her running and flustered.

Soshiro who was left inside the room stared at his rival, who was uncharacteristically quiet. He felt pity and at the same time doesn't for he knows what the male in front of him feels for his fiancee.

His phone vibrated indicating that he received a message.

"I'm heading down soon. Meet me at the lobby. Also, please stop torturing my Captain"

"Well then, i guess I'll have to leave now too"

Soshiro stood up and said his goodbyes and thanks as he pocketed his phone. He's looking forward to the spending the rest of the day, and the days after that with his fiancee.

#kaiju no.8 #hoshina soshiro #soshiro hoshina #hoshina soshiro x oc #hoshina soshiro x reader #soshiro hoshina x reader #soshiro hoshina x oc #yukikhun

49 notes · View notes

lovecoree · 20 hours

Text

SATIVIA. L. HEESUNG !

pairing: idol!heesung x blackfem!reader

synopsis: a trip to a beach villa leads you and Heesung to express y’all true feelings for each other.

warning: smut! mdni , smut tags under cut! , enemies to lovers trope , arguing , drinking , fluff , angst , reader is kinda mean ( but so is heesung ) , Heesung is down bad for reader , reader is black coded , reader uses she/her prns !

smut tags: unprotected sex ( don’t do this ) , oral ( f receiving ) , heesung gets caught masturbating , heesung has a breeding kink ( sorry not sorry ) , degrading , pet names ( princess & baby ) , pussydrunk!heesung , kissing , marking , after care !

requested by: @penny44224

a/n: omg this only took long because my phone has been acting up lately, i finally got it fix yesterday so i was able to finish the rest of it today and yesterday. This is the longest oneshot I’ve ever done so i hope it’s ok. I barely proof read this 😭 so any misspelling or mistakes, im truly sorry !!! 🩷

You found it frustrating that you had a crush on Heesung.

Normally when a person have a crush they feel shy or nervous around the person they like or just flirt to see if they could become more than just a crush, that was the opposite for you. Why have a crush on him if you’re clearly annoyed about it.

It’s fairly simple, you simply think you’re not good enough to date someone like Heesung due to the fact that he is an idol and have little experience with love or dating in general. The longest relationship you had lasted two months, would’ve been three if the guy you dated wasn’t such an ass.

You tend to overthink things, Heesung is a very attractive person with a good personality, he would never see you in a different light. You told this to yourself every day and every night, leaving you to feel bitter and so that bitter behavior passed on to you being kinda mean towards Heesung. Especially during the whole trip at the beach villa.

And poor Heesung couldn’t understand why, but that doesn’t mean he’s not going to give the same energy back.

Heesung couldn’t help but make subtle glances your way, watching as you interact with your two best friends Jurin and Harvey or playing fun games with his band mates. God you look beautiful, the outfit you wore all day from going out made Heesung loose his focus. He simply wanted to be close to you, but the way you’ve been trying to avoid him like the plague bothered him.

“We’re heading out later to eat, you coming right?” Sunghoon walked up to Heesung aware to the fact that his friend was focusing on you and how you laughed and smiled so beautifully, but not at him tho? All he get is an irritated face from you and mean comments. “Ridiculous,” Heesung said shaking his head, “huh?” Sunghoon looked at Heesung confused causing Heesung to blink a few times as he finally looked at Sunghoon.

“Huh? Sorry you said something?” Heesung scratched the back of his neck watching as Sunghoon looked at him weird. “I asked are you joining us to go out to eat later tonight.” Heesung was quick to shrug his shoulders, he honestly didn’t feel like going out because you’ve been stressing this man out this whole trip and needed alone time with his thoughts. “I might or might not, don’t wait up if I’m not out my room when yall are ready.” Sunghoon nodded his head, keeping that in mind.

“Oh by the way, stop staring…you look like a creep.” Sunghoon joked watching as Heesung eyes went wide causing Sunghoon to laugh before walking over to the rest.

It was currently 9:20 at night and your friends were getting ready to go out. After taking a shower and doing your skin care routine, instead of dressing up to go out you put on a regular tank top and shorts to sleep in. You told Jurin and Harvey you were staying in tonight, not feeling like going out and just be alone since you had a lot on your mind. Relaxing while watching tv sounds good right about now.

“Are you sure you don’t want to come?” Jurin asked putting on lipgloss before checking her makeup for any flaws, Harvey was doing the same. “Yea, I’m too tired to go anywhere to be honest.” You plopped on the bed, searching for your phone amongst the covers to scroll on Instagram.

You could hear Harvey sigh as she glanced your way. “Is it because of Heesung?” One thing about Harvey she could read you like an open book, she knew you like Heesung since day one. You rolled your eyes finally finding your phone under the covers. “No I’m not staying back because of him.” You partially lied. Yes you were staying back because of him, but you also wanted to relax and distract yourself by watching your favorite movie.

Harvey squinted her eyes, not really believing you, but she let the topic died down at she looked over her outfit before standing up with Jurin. “I’ll send a picture of the menu so I could order you something and bring it back here when we come back.” Jurin smiled coming of to give you a hug. You smiled, excepting her hug. “Thank you, you’re the best.” You glanced over at Harvey who had a pout on her face, “I love you too Harvey.” You laugh as she immediately smiled coming over to give you a hug.

“Ok we’re gone, don’t forget to text me.” Jurin shouted making her way downstairs along with Harvey trailing behind her.

Halfway through the movie you felt hungry, pausing your movie you got out of bed and put on your slippers before leaving the room, on the way down the hall you couldn’t help but hear rustling and faint noises coming from on of the rooms, which so happened to be Heesungs and Jake’s assigned room. You were confused because you thought everyone had left already, the door was slightly cracked open. You slowly peeked inside and was immediately shocked to see Heesung body was resting against the headboard of the bed as he masturbated.

You were about to gasp but you quickly covered your mouth, not letting a sound pass your lips. You blinked a couple of times, maybe your seeing things, but then again the way he was moaning while stroking himself sounded too real. It was like your body couldn’t move from your spot as you watched Heesung eyes go shut while resting his head back on the headboard, his long hands wrapped perfectly around his cock as he moaned, clearly unaware of your presence.

You felt like a pervert, but you slowly backed up to give him privacy and try to forget what you just witnessed. Before you could even fully turn your body around you heard Heesung deep voice moan once again. “Fuck y/n.” Your whole body freezes, did…did he just say your name. You couldn’t sworn you had whip lash as you look back to see Heesung moving his hand up and down even faster, feeling close to his release.

Heesung mouth went slack as he finally opened his eyes, looking down at his cock as he came, he quickly moved his shirt up reve his chiseled abs so it wouldn’t ruin his shirt. “Fuck.” Heesung hissed, calming down his breathing.

You almost stumbled back as Heesung finally acknowledged your presence, his eyes went wide before quickly tucking himself inside his sweatpants. Before you could even think about running back to your room, you felt him pull you into his room by your arm. “Let go” You yanked your arm back as Heesung got in your personal space, eyes glaring at you as his voice was laced with venom.

“The fuck is your problem!?” Your faced scrunched up as you pushed him back off of you to form some kind of space. “You ever heard of privacy?” You had no words to say, Heesung scoffed form your lack of response. “Explain your—

“I admit I was watching you, but why were you moaning my name.” You don’t let him finish his sentence, crossing your arms over your chest. Heesung was amazed on how you flipped the script on him.

Heesung ran his fingers through his hair before laughing. “Is something funny?” You looked at him irritated, Heesung shook his head feeling frustrated. What is he supposed to say, I was moaning your name while jerking off because I can’t stop thinking about you and like you. You would’ve looked at him crazy, he thought.

“I’m waiting..” Heesung swallowed the lump in his throat before replying simply with, “it was random, first name that popped up.” Heesung shrugged causing you to smack your teeth. “Stop lying.”

“Fuck, I don’t know what else to say!”

“The truth—”

“I like you! That’s the truth, I fucking like you!”

You felt your heartbeat increasing at his words. He watched you go silent and it was nerve wrecking for him. “Sorry forget I said—” “Since when did you start liking me?” You cut him off quickly feeling your mind racing with so many questions. “Since we first met at my concert backstage.” Heesung couldn’t even look you in the eyes anymore, he felt embarrassed that he shouted those words that could cause him rejection.

You couldn’t help but crack a smile, trying your best to muffle your laugh. Heesung took offense to that, “I’m glad you find my feelings for you funny.” He sarcastically said, ready for you to leave his room.

“I like you too, I’m just relieved that’s all.” You finally said watching Heesung face go from hurt to surprise. Heesung stepped closer towards you feeling confused. “Wait..you like me back? So why have you been an ass lately towards me.” You looked him in the eyes feeling nervous all of a sudden.

“Like I said it’s because I like you..” Heesung wasn’t quick to catch on and you can tell by the way his eyebrows furrowed waiting for you to continue. “…I thought I wouldn’t be your type, you’re an idol who could have any girl you want…and I’m just an ordinary girl with little dating experience.” You felt your voice suddenly grow small as tried to fight tears that welled up in your eyes.

“That’s why I was being mean to you..to try to get over my feelings for you.” Heesung felt his heart ache seeing the single tear that finally left your eye and grace your soft face. He moved closer to wipe it before lifting your head up to look at him.

“Stop crying, you’re too pretty to cry.” He softly said. “And stop thinking like that, the only person I want is you y/n. You don’t understand how much I like you, I could care less about any other girl in this world.” He smiled watching you try to look anywhere else but him, you weren’t use to receiving compliments especially from a guy you liked.

“You’re just saying that to be nice.” You tried to pull yourself together, but Heesung was quick to pull you right back to him. His arms wrapped around your waist as he practically stared into your soul. “I mean it seriously….in fact, I could prove it to you.”

You didn’t miss how his voice turned seductive as he smirked at you. You felt your stomach doing flips and body grow hot. “Prove it to me how?” He glanced down at your lips before looking back up at your brown eyes. “May I?” He whispered, feeling his face come closer towards yours, nodding your head yes like you were in a trance.

Crashing his lips on yours, you whimpered at the feeling. His lips felt soft as he cup your face to deepen the kiss. You place your hands in his hair, keeping up with his movements. A moan slipped past your lips causing Heesung to grin a little while kissing you. Coming back for air, Heesung was the first to break the kiss, smiling from seeing you try to chase his lips to kiss him more.

“Does that help you or do I need to prove myself even more?” Raising an eyebrow waiting for a response, whatever answer you give him he would kindly respect it. “I need you, please.” Heesung felt like he was in a fever dream, the way you begged just now had blood rushing straight to his cock.

“You don’t understand how sexy you sounded just now.” Heesung was quick to pick you up and carrying you to his bed, gently placing you it. You looked up at him with doe like eyes waiting for his next move. He gripped your ankle to pull you closer by the edge of the bed. “We can stop this now if you want?” He reassured you only for you to shake your head. “I want this, please.”

Heesung smiled before leaning down to kiss you again, but this time more rough. His hands moved down to your shorts and tapped your hip, signaling you to lift up a little. You lift up your body letting him pull down your shorts along with your soaked panties. He slowly slid his hand between your legs, “Fuck.” Your body jolted slightly from him using his fingers to rub your clit in circles slowly. Wasting no time, he got on his knees, prying your legs open for more room.

You felt your body melt in his touch. “You’re so wet.” He said already mesmerized, but it only made you feel shy, before you could even think about closing your legs he was quick to press a kiss on your clit before sucking on it harshly causing your jaw to go slack and eyes glancing down at him in surprise.

Heesung hummed, satisfied with the taste of you as he used his two fingers to spread your lips open. He released your clit with a loud pop sound before glancing at your exposed hole, more of your essence leaking causing Heesung to loose his mind. “Only I make you feel like this, huh?” Heesung glanced up at you seeing you trying to slow down your breathing.

“Answer me Princess.” He softly said, but stern. “Yes, only you Hee.” The cute pet name made Heesung smile before diving back in lapping at your pussy like a starved man who hasn’t eaten in days. Your moans filled the room as you rest your elbows behind you on the bed so you can sit up properly. His noses brushed your clit perfectly while he suck and lick on your folds. The pleasure was so intense he had to use both of his hands to keep your legs from closing, eyes shooting up to look at you to give you a warning.

You did your best to hold your legs open for him, feeling your mind go blank. “F-Feels so good.” You begged feeling your legs shake. Heesung licked up every drop you gave him, he hummed against your clit before backing away slightly. You whined at the sudden loss of his mouth. He only smirked before standing up and bending back down towards you to kiss you deeply. You moaned at the feeling of tasting yourself.

Heesung brung two fingers to your pussy, pushing them inside your hole before curling his fingers, going in and out in a fast pace. You broke away from the kiss moaning loudly, glancing up at him as your mouth went slack. All he did was watch you with lust filled eyes. “It’s too..fuck, it’s too much.” All Heesung did was nod his head not stopping until you cum on his fingers. “I know baby, and you can take it, hmm?” You felt your body shudder at his words.

Heesung placed his free hand beside you on the bed to keep his balance steady so he can lean down and kiss up on your neck, moving your head back to give him more room while you close your eyes. You felt close to your release as your legs threatened to close.

“Hee.” You cling tightly onto his shirt can’t find your voice, only blissful moans leaving your lips. “I know baby, cum for me.” Using the pad of his thumb to rub your clit and just like that you felt the knot in your stomach finally break.

The rest of your clothes were quick to be on the floor, Heesung climb on top of you as he placed soft kisses on your brown skin. The feeling of his body heat and him being this close felt like a dream. You tangled your hands in his hair, kissing him with so much love.

“You don’t understand how long I’ve waited for this.” Heesung confessed breaking away from the kiss, he leaned back as he took his cock in his hand pumping it a few times. You watched him intensely, loving the sight. “Hee please just fuck me already.” You felt embarrassed on how needy you were getting, and who can blame you it’s Heesung we’re talking about here. “Such a needy slut aren’t you.” Tapping his cock against your clit teasingly, “m’not sure you deserve it, the way you’ve been acting.” He grin hearing you whine.

“You wait until I’m needy to tease me.” You felt on the verge of tears, it was ridiculous. “Beg and I’ll give you the best fuck of your life.” Heesung said seriously always ready to fulfill his promises. And you believed him.

“Please Hee I need you to fuck me, I’m so sorry for the way I’ve acted— fuck, just please fuck me.” Quick to beg not caring how pathetic you sounded, you just needed him to fuck you and so he did. He smiled from ear to ear as he finally entered inside of you. Your jaw went slack as you felt every inch of him enter inside of you. “Breathe baby, Breathe.”

You didn’t even realize you was holding your breath until he said something, you felt him hit your sweet spot immediately once he finally pushed in all the way. “F-Fuck your so tight.” He needed to take his own advice because he was close to breaking his slow pace.

“Please Hee g-go faster.” You whined when you felt him grip your love handles before slipping out only leaving his tip inside you, “shouldn’t have said that baby.” Before you could even ask what he meant he, he slid inside you again in one quick motion, grip never faltering on your hips. “Fuck Heesung!”

Heesung watched as your mouth went slack and eyes rolled back, you let out the most prettiest moans he ever heard. He thought he was dreaming, but no it’s all real, you’re real. “You feel so good— shit, wrapped around me.” Heesung moaned feeling himself loose himself inside you.

His hips pounded into you even faster creating loud clapping noises in the room. He leaned down leaving kisses along your neck, leaving hickeys on your skin. You could hear him moaning against your neck causing you to grow weak, if he was in love with your moans you were surely obsessed with his.

Heesung couldn’t help it, you felt good wrapped perfectly around him. “Hee, s’too m-much.” You moved your hand down his abs, trying to slow down his movements causing him to move away from your neck to look at you with serious eyes. “Move your hand or on everything I love, I’ll stop.” The way you quickly moved your hand was hilarious, but you earned a kiss against your lips as a reward before he continue feeding you deep strokes.

He glanced down at the sight of his cock pumping inside of you, a thick layer of yours and his cum creating a ring at the base of his cock. Heesung has went slack at the sight, he couldn’t help but moan. “Fuuck you’re amazing baby.” He bit his lip feeling like he was on cloud nine.

“Perfectly made for me…only me.” He said watching as your back arched off the bed from intense pleasure, missionary is definitely Heesung’s favorite because you look so beautiful underneath him. “Hee, I’m so close.” You felt the same knot from before building up in your stomach.

“Me too.” Heesung voice came out small, mostly in a whine, he didn’t want this to end. “Fuck baby, need to cum inside you, please.” You found it so attractive how he was begging, “please, I’ll fill you up so nice and good baby.” Heesung pounded faster inside of you feeling himself tipping over the edge of his release.

How can you deny him when he looks like this and beg like that. His hair sticking to his forehead from the thin layer of sweat, eyes dazed by lust and tears, mouth going slack as he moaned, abs tightened from being close to cumming. He was perfect.

You were quick to shake your head, “please cum inside me, n-need all of you.” Heesung eyes rolled to the back of his head before he focused back on you, happy about your words. He moved his thumb to your clit, working expertly on your clit causing you to jolt a little from the attention on it.

“M’gonna give you every last drop, put a fucking baby inside you.” Heesung couldn’t help his words, too far gone and let his intrusive thoughts out. “You would like that huh? Just me and you knowing I filled you up perfectly with my cum.”

Your legs started to shake, his words and him fucking you was getting to your head. “Shit, I’m close.” You looked up at him with tearing eyes, nodding your head to agree, feeling the knot in your stomach ready to explode and he could tell.

He leaned down giving you a gentle kiss on the lips, “cum for me baby.” That’s all it took for you to cum around his cock, “Fuck!” Heesung gripped your hips helping you calm down from your orgasm. He felt his hips start to falter and abs tighten. You pulled him in by his neck kissing him, your soft lips on his was what tipped him over.

You felt him cum deep inside you causing you to moan inside the kiss. Heesung couldn’t help but whine form empty every drop inside of you, hips flushed against you as you held each other, feeling clingy.

You were the first to break away from the kiss only to see Heesung open his eyes slowly. You giggled before pecking his lips one last time. “That was— wow.” He Finally spoke up, smiling from ear to ear.

“I agree.” Heesung moved away from you completely, pulling out of you slowly. He hissed at the sight of his cum leaving your pussy and on to the bed. Heesung got up off the bed going to the bathroom to grab a warm towel to help clean you up.

You both sat in a comfortable silence as he helped you. “What does this makes us?” You whispered, breaking the silence. Heesung glanced up at you. “In a relationship, if that’s ok with you.” Heesung felt nervous again, but your smile made his heart flutter. “I like that idea.” Heesung smiled back, finished cleaning up he helped you up off the bed taking you to the bathroom to take a shower together.

“Yo! Love birds time to wake up.” You could hear Jake knocking hard on the door, not wanting to walk in on anything. Heesung stirred in his sleep after feeling you lightly shake him so he could wake up. “Y’all better be out hear in five minutes or breakfast will be gone.” Jake left after that to go downstairs.

You glanced at Heesung to see him rubbing his eyes before stretching. He looked at you and gave you his cute signature smile, “good morning princess.” His sleepy voice made you feel butterflies. “Good morning.” You smiled back moving strands of his hair out his eyes.

“We need to get dress before Jake comes back up here and drag us out.” You laughed before climbing out of bed, Heesung whined not wanting to get up, but did so anyway.

Heesung came over to you giving you a kiss on the lips. “Can’t we just stay here.” He said pouting. “I would love to but after breakfast we got to pack and leave.” You said sadly, coming back to reality that both of you will be parting ways.

“Don’t say that, it’s hurting my heart already.” Heesung ran his fingers through his hair before walking towards his opened suitcase. “I know I know, but it’s the truth.” You sighed getting ready to walk out. “I’m going to go change.” Heesung hummed in response already finding a outfit to wear.

You did your whole morning routine before settling on a nice yet comfortable outfit to wear since you’re going to the airport after breakfast. You packed the rest of your clothes and items inside your suitcase and took it downstairs with you to place it by the doors where the rest of your friends suitcases lined up.

Walking into the kitchen you felt eyes starring at you. You realized after grabbing a plate that was next to the food. Slowly glancing up, your friends smiling at you or looking at you with the ‘anything you want to tell us’ look.

“What?”

Sunoo couldn’t help but laugh at your confused expression. Jurin and Harvey staring at you with shock written all over their faces. “I was curious on why you didn’t text me back last night, but after what Jake told us now I know why.” Jurin said coming closer to you.

“You were getting dick down.”

“Yah!”

“I’m trying to eat here.”

The guys all looked up from their plates in disgust by Jurin words only for her to wave her hand at them, dismissing their protest. “I thought y’all hated each other.” Jungwon said taking a sip of his water.

“Clearly not, they had the time of their lives last night.” Jay said shaking his head only for Sunoo to nudge his side before telling him to be quiet.

“I had to sleep on the floor in Ni-ki and Sunghoon.” Jake complained, “you could’ve slept on the couch.” Harvey said looking at Jake like he was slow.

Before jake could respond back, footsteps was heard coming into the kitchen. “Uh oh speaking of the devil himself.” Sunghoon said causing Ni-Ki to hold in his laugh. Heesung was dressed comfortably in a grey hoodie and grey sweatpants and wearing his black prescription glasses.

Heesung looked at everyone confused on why they was smiling at him, but he ignored them going straight to you, placing a kiss on your cheek before grabbing a plate as well going to the food. “Y’all knew this would eventually happen, let’s not act brand new.” Heesung said, placing bacon on his plate.

You tried your best not to smile, but you couldn’t help it. “We did, but I wasn’t expecting to come back and seeing y’all half nak—” Jungwon went over to Jake, stuffing his mouth with a piece of waffle to shut him up. “Just say you’re happy for them and eat your food.”

You giggled at Jake’s sour face before grabbing some food for yourself.

“All I got to say is, hurt my best friend I will fly to Korea and beat your ass.” Harvey said pointing her fork at Heesung. You looked at Jurin, signaling with your eyes to get Harvey. Jurin only shrugged her shoulder.

“I was going to say the same thing, she just said it in a nicer way.”

“Omg.”

#black reader #black fem reader #fluff #black female oc #black reader smut #lee heesung x reader #lee heesung smut #heesung enhypen #Heesung x black reader #heesung fluff #kpop smut #enhypen fluff #angst #kpop #kpop x black reader #enhypen

37 notes · View notes

slashers-and-rats · 3 days

Text

rivalry

afab!reader x billy lenz | plushophilia | nsfw

rat chat : wrote this as a warm up, thought y’all might like it. definitely an acquired taste. but if you wanna see billy get jealous of a stuffie and then fuck it, your prayers have been answered. i hope you enjoy!

billy didn’t know how he had gotten into a rivalry with stuffed animals of all things, but, to be fair, he didn’t know a lot of things. what he did know was that it all started with his animosity towards that one stupid, fluffy, sickly sweet pink thing.

truly, he blamed you. you had brought it home one day from a night out with your friends, excited to show off the prize you had won from a crane game at the arcade. you had to spend a bit of time explaining to him why it was such a feat, and at first, he was very proud. using a fake arm to get a treat out of a box? seemed difficult. he knew with his shaky fingers and twitchy muscles he would’ve wasted every penny trying to even brush against it. but you? you had grabbed one of the biggest stuffed animals there; it was a large, bubblegum coloured elephant, just over half the size of your torso. apparently it was a big deal for everyone involved. you boasted that the managers looked mighty angry when you pulled it from the slot of the machine, and you bragged that there was even a bit of dust on it from how long it had probably sat untouched. he just sat and listened, fiddling with the fluff of its fur (he was pretty sure elephants didn’t even have that), and watching the way you cradled it close to your chest.

the first night you had it home, you insisted on washing it. “i gotta make sure it’s clean, i don’t really know where it’s been,” you explained, placing it in the wash with care. he stood near you, watching closely. the laundry was something he took interest in. after all, that’s where the smell of your clothes came from, and he liked that. sometimes, when you would be gone at work, he’d sit in front of the dryer and wait for the little tune to play, and then pull out the warm clothes and lay in them, imagining it was you he was rolling around in. often times, it would end with him having to slip some of the clothes back into the hamper, having made them sticky with his “activities”.

billy had slept in his usual place that night. he nuzzled his way into your arms, and you wrapped around him tight, stroking his hair and letting him ramble as you drifted off. bedtime was his favourite part of the day. that’s when he got you all to himself, no interruptions. he was a selfish man; he didn’t like that you had to give other things attention. during these moments, when you were stuck to him, he’d take every chance he’d get to indulge himself in you. his hands would slide up and down your hips and the back of your thighs, and his fingers would dip under your shirt and press into that warm, soft flesh just above your butt. his lips always found somewhere to latch onto. drool would dribble out and down your skin, and you’d giggle every time he’d graze his teeth over the sensitive, tickly spots on your neck and collarbone. he’d tangle his legs in yours, making sure he was as close as possible. he didn’t care if it was summer, he couldn’t sleep without trying to merge your two bodies together like some funky little homunculi.

during this time, he’d usually be whispering all the things he had been thinking about that day. “m-missed you… missed my pretty girl… missed your body- missed you against me…” that soft, pathetic little tone would leak out between wet, sloppy sucks of your flesh, and you’d pat his head gently and reassure him that you missed him too. he knew you weren’t lying. he’d feel that heat between your legs, the kind that made you squeeze them tighter around him and press even closer to his thigh, and it would make his head spin. “piggy wants me? tell me. tell me my piggy wants me- tell me. i w-want it, tell me- billy wants to hear you squeeeaaaaal~” there was something about that uneven grin and big eyes that he’d stare up at you with that would melt you, and you two would end up staying up a bit later to have quality time together.

that was the routine. it was perfect. why did it have to change just because of some stupid elephant?

the next day, you had woken up early to go to work. you peeled off of him, and padded your way to the bathroom, careful to be quiet. billy would usually still be asleep, sprawled out in the sheets. he found that when he had a proper bed, and not just some dingy mattress and blankets in an attic, he was quite the squirmy sleeper. you once theorized it was because he finally had the space to actually be comfortable, but he didn’t really care why, he was just happy to not feel sore in his bones like he used to.

on the way back from the bathroom, you threw your stuffie into the dryer. you got dressed, kissed your messy man on the forehead, and left for your shift.

the day had been uneventful. billy had woken up an hour or so later, and did the routine you had showed him to do. he took a shower, rinsed his hair out, and made sure to wash in all the important spots. after the night before, he couldn’t help but lean his back against the cold tile of the shower, and let the warm water burn him up while he pressed his nose against your bottle of soap. he couldn’t help but inch his hand down around his shaft, feeling it ache at the smell of you. he had learned from past mistakes that holding the bottle against his face was enough. no licking, no tasting- just breathing in your scent and rubbing over himself was enough to make him spill down the drain in minutes. after that, he’d step out of the shower, wrap himself up in a towel, and brush his teeth in front of the mirror. this was something you insisted upon him doing. for a long time, his face was something he didn’t recognize. he’d stare at his own reflection, and wonder who that stranger was, and why they kept frowning at him. but now, after a year or so of normality (or, the closest he could get to it), the face he saw felt like more of an old friend than anything.

shower done, teeth brushed, he’d get dressed and make breakfast. after breakfast, it was getting his chores done, and after chores, he would sit in the garden in the backyard and look at all the bugs and odd weeds. he’d draw the ones he wanted you to see. he had learned quickly that bringing them into the house wasn’t something you were always super excited for, especially the bugs, but you always made sure to keep his drawings.

in the afternoon, you came home, and he ran to the door to greet you as he always did. he followed you around as you unpacked your things. he wouldn’t talk much, just listening to you as you set your work clothes aside, and talked about your day, and all the things you had to deal with. this time, as you went to the bedroom to change out of your uniform, you stopped by the dryer and pulled out that pink beast again. billy watched you cradle it close to your chest, and for just a moment, he felt a twinge of something in his stomach. at that moment, he couldn’t tell what it was, but hindsight made it very clear that it was the bubblings of jealousy.

you set it down on your bed, and began switching into your pyjamas. he sat down beside it, stealing glances at it while he watched you free yourself from the confines of your bra. he even pushed it over so it wouldn’t get a look. this was his, after all. he didn’t plan on sharing the show with anyone.

he had gotten better at keeping his hands to himself, at least while you were trying to get things done. but the second you bent over to pull your pants up, his hands shot out and grabbed at your thighs, pulling you back into his lap. you let out a small shriek, landing on top of him, and laughing. “hey, not in front of pinky!” you exclaimed, batting at the hands running up your shirt.

billy paused, tilting his head to the side. “p-pinky…?” his voice was light and raspy, curious, as he looked around the room.

“yeah, i thought it would be a cute name for our new friend,” you explained, patting the head of that abomination next to you. billy looked over, feeling that same bubbling from before rising again in his stomach. he glared at the elephant, before shoving it off the bed, and pushing you down onto the spot where it once was. you giggled, wriggling around as he climbed on top of you, sliding between your legs like he had many times before, and pressing his erection flush up against your warmth. his head dipped down, burying into your chest, and he took a deep breath. you burned up his senses. he let his tongue lull out, cooling the quickly heating flesh with his saliva. it felt like licking an element. he hoped it would leave a burn, so that you’d have to care for him, and stay with him, and pamper him.

your hands slid up his back, stopping so your palm could massage his shoulder blades, before continuing on to weave your fingers into his hair. he groaned softly, pulling his head up so he could glance at you. you were giving him that soft smile, the one that showed contentedness and comfort. it made him feel like melting wax, and he settled down against your body, resting his cheek against one of your breasts so he could listen to the gentle thump of your heart beat.

“you just wanna cuddle for a bit?” you asked, propping yourself up on an elbow. he nodded, his arms wrapping around your torso.

“warm… piggy feels warm and i-i wanna… wanna use you like a heater,” he grumbled. “b-burn billy.”

you hummed, twirling a strand around your finger. “i don’t think i can burn you with just my skin, unfortunately.”

“y-you can try.” his voice was deep and determined, and it brought back the fire that had been building in his stomach. he wiggled his way back up your body, boxing you in with his arms so he could press his weight down on top of you. he tried to cover you with as much of him as possible, wanting to mix with your own being and melt into you.

you two stayed like that for awhile; billy pressing his hips into you every once in awhile and rutting against you. you’d feel his erection prodding against your pussy through your underwear, and you’d push it up into him to provide him some extra relief. he’d take this willingly, and hump you like you were nothing more than a pillow. but you knew he didn’t see you as just an object. you were so much more.

after the fun, a shower was had and dinner was made, and the cool air of summer rolled in through the windows. you settled into bed with a book, and that pink thing was off the floor and on the pillow beside you. billy couldn’t keep his eyes off of it. it felt like it was looking right back at him, and he didn’t like it. he pulled his own pyjamas on, and climbed into bed.

“you ready to turn out the lights?” you asked, closing up the novel with a satisfying snap. he nodded, and as he wiggled under the blanket, and turned towards you to take up his usual place, he noticed you weren’t facing towards him.

this made him immediately worried. he leaned over you, investigating your change in position, and immediately found the culprit. that stupid, ugly thing was taking up his place in your arms. you were nuzzling your face against its head, squeezing it close to you. you looked comfortable, and while he was always happy to see you happy, he couldn’t help but frown.

“p-piggy?” he pushed you gently with his hand, and you wiggled a bit.

“mhm? you gonna come cuddle?” you purred, as if what you were doing wasn’t abnormal.

“b-billy… billy can’t, you’re not-“ he paused, trying to find the words, but they were getting clogged up with frustration. how dare that thing take his spot? it should’ve known its place. he almost had half the mind to rip it out of your hands and tear the stuffing out with his teeth.

“of course you can, what’re you talking about? just be big spoon tonight, silly.” you wiggled your butt a bit, as if inviting him to slide up against you. you couldn’t see it, but his brows were furrowing, and he was wringing his fingers out. somehow, it felt like he was losing. it seemed silly to feel that way. he knew it was just a stuffed animal, he knew it had no intention of taking his place, and yet…

he shook the thoughts from his head. he cozied up behind you, wrapping his arms as tightly around you as possible, and nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck.

this position felt different. it felt… wrong. he couldn’t see you. he couldn’t kiss your face, or bite at your collarbone, or suck on that ticklish flesh on your throat. he couldn’t smother his face with your breasts. the way you had bunched yourself up against this doll made it so that he really couldn’t reach much of you at all. every time he went to dip his hands into your shirt and up towards your chest, he was met with the feeling of that plush stopping his passage, like a tunnel that had a cave in. what was even worse was that you didn’t see the problem. you just laid there, falling asleep quickly, without the usual before bedtime play.

billy couldn’t sleep, though. he stayed up for awhile, festering, and mumbling into the back of your neck. he knew it wouldn’t wake you, you had become quite used to his rants during the night, but he almost wished you would hear him. he was grumpy. how could something like that take his place? how could you let it? the only reassurance he had was that it wouldn’t last. it would just be tonight, and then by tomorrow you’d have lost interest, and it would be discarded to the pile of the other stuffed animals you decorated the room with.

but, obviously, that didn’t happen.

the next night rolled around, and he was met with your back again. and the night after. and the night after that. this continued for a week, with the disgust he felt towards that bubblegum catastrophe mounting. there were times where he almost told you, and confessed that he despised that eyesore, but he’d see the way you held it close, and smiled so sweetly when you slept with it, that he couldn’t bring himself to.

it all came to a head when one day, in the early morning, as you were getting ready for work and doing your usual routine, you walked over to the bed thinking billy was asleep. truthfully, he thought he was asleep too. he was in and out of a dream state, going between watching you through hooded eyes, to imagining all the fun you’d get up to later when you got home. you grabbed your phone off the bedside table, gave a quick kiss to billy’s forehead, and then… you gave one to the stuffed animal.

it nearly made billy jump out of bed. you hadn’t seen, turning around and walking out the door without a second thought, but his eyes had widened in what felt like betrayal. that was his kiss. that was his special treat, that was his promise that you would be home soon, that was his- you were his. he refused to share, even with some stuffed abomination.

he waited until he heard the front door close, and then sat up. before he knew it, he had wrapped his hand around the things neck, and held it out in front of him in inspection. it must’ve been playing mind tricks. how else had it made you fall in love with it so fast? it wasn’t that cute, it wasn’t that interesting- in billy’s opinion, it was quite hard to even look at. the bright colours made his eyes ache, and the stupid expression it wore looked shifty and untrustworthy. what did you see in this thing?

his fingers squeezed the fur of the plushie, his nails digging into it and against the fabric underneath. he didn’t like it. he didn’t want you to like it. he needed it gone. he needed it ruined. he needed to ruin it. this was revenge. it should’ve known better. today was the day he got rid of that thing.

billy did what he did best. he pushed the stuffed animal up into his face, opening his mouth wide and biting down hard on the fluffy “flesh” of the doll, before beginning to pull at it with his teeth. the fabric began to tear, releasing little hairs and fluff into his mouth. it made him sputter and spit, and he pulled away, wiping his tongue off on his arm. it was fighting back now? how dare it? he squeezed it again in his hands, bringing it up for another bite, sinking his teeth into the torso and ripping some of the seams undone. he listened to the sound, satisfied. it made him feel good, like he was succeeding over it somehow. sure it was inanimate, but it should’ve known better than to get in between him and his precious piggy.

the thought of you made his veins run warm. he couldn’t put the blame on you. this thing must’ve put you under a spell, you just needed to be released from it. you needed to be reminded that it was billy you wanted. billy was the best cuddle, he was the one you should hold and snuggle, and he was surely the only one you should be kissing.

as the thoughts of you swam through his head, he breathed in deep. his eyes widened a bit when he realized how much this thing smelled of you. part of him was immediately soothed. any reminder of you made him feel safe, and took away those pesky, buzzing thoughts. but, another, larger part of him felt enraged. how dare this thing steal your scent? how dare it flaunt the fact it’s been so close to you that it even smells like you? the audacity.

he pressed it closer, feeling a damp spot forming on part of the fabric. he was beginning to drool. he couldn’t help it. every time he thought of you, and thought of burying his face in you, and holding you, he salivated. if he could keep you on his tongue like a mint he would. he wanted to taste you. it had been days since you’d played with him. you’d say you were busy, or you’d have your nose in your new book, or you’d be curled up with this stuffie. he had gotten better about not prying, and not insisting that you let him use you- but, he was sure you must’ve noticed the way he pawed at your thighs and rutted himself against your ass. right…?

he pulled his face away, panting softly. he had nearly smothered himself. he wanted to suck all of your smell off of this thing. it didn’t deserve it. he deserved it.

he stared down at the plushie, this thing you adored so much. two large holes were now in its body, with stuffing spilling out. it looked almost gorey. he glanced towards the door of the bedroom, almost expecting you to come back in and chastise him, like some dog that ripped up the carpet. but you didn’t come. it was just him and this thing…

before billy even realized, he was peeling the comforter off of his body and yanking down his pyjamas pants. he sat up on his knees, pushing the stuffie down in front of him. he shifted from leg to leg, feeling something fluttering in his stomach. he shouldn’t be doing this. this was something you had been proud to bring home. this is something you had held so carefully. this is something that had taken his spot. as that thought flew by his head, the rest of his consciousness pushed aside to make way for his skewed logic. if this thing had the gaul to take his spot in your arms, it obviously didn’t know its place. it was just a dumb toy, and billy loved dumb toys.

billy reached his hand down, squeezing it around his shaft. he let out a soft breath through his nose, biting down on his bottom lip while he stroked himself to an erection. the knowledge that what he was doing was wrong only fuelled the ache in his cock. he could imagine your face when you’d seen what he’d done. you’d thank him for freeing you from the throes of whatever curse this thing had put on you. you’d throw it in the trash immediately, and hold billy again like he was your favourite doll. he was. he knew he was, this thing had just tricked you.

once he was hard, he pressed his dick up against the surface of the plushie. the fluff of the fur rubbed smoothly up against him. if he wasn’t so angry, he might’ve admitted that it felt nice. but, instead, he just glared down at the thing, squeezing his hands around its head. he began rutting his hips, pushing himself up and down the torso of the stuffie. he bit down hard on his lip, focused on his task of ruining this rival of his.

with every movement of his hips, he let out a small grunt of pleasure. that fluttering feeling had turned into a tornado. it tore up his stomach, and created such a satisfying ache in his balls. this felt so dirty. he felt like a stupid mutt tearing up its master’s slippers, but even then it was so much more than that. he was a gallant knight, protecting his princess from falling under an evil spell. this was chivalrous. he repeated this in his head while he humped the toy, reassuring himself that he was being considerate, not selfish. he was doing this for you. you needed to see how ugly this thing really was.

billy gasped, pulling away from the fur of the doll and looking down at the mess he’d made so far. there were small, sticky beads of precum caught within the fluff. he reached down, rubbing it into the fabric. he wrapped a hand around his cock, squeezing out another few beads of precum, before wiping it onto the beady eyes of the doll as well. he didn’t want it seeing him. it didn’t deserve to see what was rightfully yours, and the fact it even thought it could get away with it reminded billy of his goal.

he found the hole he had made in the torso, using his fingers to pull the rip apart. the doll had been tightly packed, the stuffing bursting out. he pressed his fingers into it, feeling how tight it was inside. he could make it work. this would teach it.

he held the stuffie up to his face, gathering all the saliva that had pooled in his mouth and spitting it into the open hole. he once again stuck his digits inside, making sure to spread the fluid around onto the nearby stuffing, before pushing it back down onto the bed. he lifted himself up, positioning the head of his dick right at the opening. for a moment, he hesitated. did he really want to destroy something of yours like this? did he really think this would make you happy, or was he doing it for himself? he shook the thoughts from his head. this thing was even beginning to play mind tricks on him, the bastard.

he pushed his cock into the tear. he breathed heavy out of his nose, feeling the tightness of the stuffing around him. it was wet, but not wet enough that it didn’t tickle him a little to move. it felt silly. he wondered what you’d think if you saw him like this. would you be disappointed? you’d walked in on him humping your pillow before. you had looked at him with a flame in your eyes, and that night you had made him ride it until he spilled all over himself, and then made him lick up the mess. he had to do the laundry after, as well, but that was a fine price to pay for the fun he had. maybe you’d do the same here. you’d be proud of him for taking initiative, and destroying such an ugly thing. maybe it was all a test. maybe you were watching him now, so happy that he was so loyal that he’d destroy something that even dared be near you, whether alive or not.

he groaned thinking about it. the idea of you peeking through the door, watching him defile this innocent little plush- he throbbed. he didn’t dare ruin his fantasy, keeping his eyes away from the bedroom door while he began thrusting into the doll. he used his hands to squeeze the torso around him, making it tight to his shaft. a moan slipped passed his lips, and his head fell forward so he could stare down at his enemy. he watched how with every push of his cock inside of it, stuffing fell out, further ruining this eyesore. precum leaked inside of it, making the inner fluff sticky and slick. it became easier and easier to move. soon, he barely remembered that this was some ugly plush elephant, and he was imagining it was you. he thought about the way you’d squirm under him, and squeeze your legs around his waist, and pull him deeper into you. you’d moan his name like it was a chant to god. he wasn’t much of a religious man, but he worshipped you like you were his creator. sometimes he thought that the only reason he was alive was to fuck you.

he let out another deep moan, shifting his weight so he could fuck harder into the plushie. it felt so warm, so soft… he was starting to shake. he trembled with the intensity of a nearing orgasm. he couldn’t believe he was going to cum from this. he felt dirty, but it felt so good.

he pulled himself out of the doll, wrapping his hand around his cock quickly and beginning to stroke. he didn’t want to grace this abomination with his cum inside of it. you wouldn’t see it then. he wanted you to see the mess he made, he wanted you to know how much he despised it.

with every pump of his hand, he moaned your name. this was for you. it was all for you. he reached down, quickly ripping an arm from the doll, and pushing it into his face. it smelled of you and him now. it made him shudder, and he breathed deep, before releasing thick, sticky ropes over the body and face of the plushie. he relaxed, his head lolling forward.

he admired his work. the stuffed animal was torn to pieces, with bits of fluff spilling out over the sheets, and a mess of cum drying into the fabric. he felt proud of himself. he stood up, leaving the remnants of the doll on the bed, before going to start his own daily routine.

he had nearly forgotten about it.

that was, until you got home, and he followed you around as he usually did. you had been talking about your boss, and how they were throwing your team a little party at the arcade for how well you all had been doing. as you walked into the bedroom to get changed into your comfy clothes, you saw the crime scene on the bed. billy stopped in his tracks, nearly turning around to run.

he watched you walk over to it, and run your hands over the fuzz, feeling the dried mess he had left. he didn’t expect you to laugh, looking back at him with a smile. “did you fuck pinky?” you asked, amazed. he shook his head at first, but then you raised an eyebrow, and it made him hesitate. “so, someone just broke in and fucked my stuffed animal? that’s what you’re saying?” he looked away from you, biting his lip. this was the moment he had been waiting for. why wasn’t he taking credit for his work…?

“i-i… maybe… b-billy couldn’t help it-“

you looked back at the stuffie and chuckled. “wow! i didn’t think you liked it THAT much. you really tore this thing up.”

billy’s eyes widened. “w-what?”

“well, you did a number on pinky. but don’t worry, i’ll get you a new one when i head back to the arcade. this time, it’ll be even bigger! and hopefully not so easy to tear up.” you picked up the remnants, and walked passed billy into the hallway, kissing him on the way out.

this was the beginning of a long running war. billy was sure that somehow, somewhere, that elephant knew it had won.

#slasher x reader #slashers #billy lenz #billy lenz x reader

28 notes · View notes