#i will do ones for the second... later...
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Check Your Window (He's At Your Window)
Summary: Reader discovers her window faces into the apartment of her very attractive building neighbor, Spencer. She's willing to do anything for his attention. He's willing to reward her for her efforts.
Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader
Category: Smut
Content Warning: voyeurism, lingerie, masturbation, slight dubcon (but for like 5 seconds i swear), nipple play, penetrative sex, apartment break-in.
Word Count: 3.9 k
Masterlist
It’s natural to believe you’re safe in your place of residency. You’re given locks, blinds, a security gate- all measures designed to invoke a false illusion of privacy. Of course, there are defects that no one can plan for that have the ability to shatter this illusion.
Mine happened to be a badly placed window.
Finding this apartment felt akin to love at first sight. It sounds dramatic, but I’m serious. Do you know how horrific real estate is these days? But when my eyes came upon piano oak flooring, the soft light of the day streaming onto a marble island, and of course, an in-home washer/dryer system, I was sold.
Due to my inherent awkwardness around meeting strangers, and lack of overt charm, I’d never been one to initiate introductions with my neighbors. I moved in quietly, packing up my life into neat little boxes and dispersing them throughout the emptiness of my new space. It was only then, when I realized a strangely placed window that seemed to fall exactly where I’d wanted my bed to be.
And while examining my outlandish situation, I saw him.
I didn’t want to assume he’d been watching me. I wasn’t paranoid like that. Nevertheless, I didn’t want to give off the aura of, for lack of better words, a creep, so the quick aversion of my eyes from his gaze felt instinctual. Curiosity won over me a millisecond later, though, and against my better judgment, I quietly peered into the window again, wondering if the man in the glass had slipped away, or had looked away from where our eyes met last.
What I hadn’t anticipated, however, was to be met with the unflinching stare of his eyes, far from concerned with how he came off, holding his gaze with an almost disconcerting and defiant presence.
He gave me a subtle nod, before walking away, disappearing from view. I was left feeling.. unsettled. But also strangely thrilled. There was a certain peculiarity in knowing you were susceptible to an audience at any given moment. I vaguely recalled social facilitation as a possible explanation as to why the concept roused me the way it did, but whatever it was, I didn’t feel compelled to attach curtains or any kind of barrier to avoid the phenomenon.
While my thoughts occasionally drifted to the man, I didn’t actually know anything about him. He lived in the building beside mine, so we didn’t even share so much as a landlord. I truly never expected to gain any insight on him besides the location of his domicile in relation to mine, and the thought didn’t bother me by any means. I was completely fine with letting our connection stay as severed as it was.
Fate, on the other hand, had other ideas.
I found myself a few weeks later, struggling with an overstuffed grocery bag in front of my building, and in a terrible game of mismanaged weight and the flimsiness of grocery-store plastic, my bag gave way, scattering the contents of it across the ground. Further misfortune plagued me, as the bag in question had been holding a good pound of lemons, that rolled quite far from where I’d been standing. I immediately dropped to the ground, trying to gather up the ones by my feet in my arms, and noticed a presence nearby doing the same and bringing the runaway citrus to me. I was thankful, and was ready to express my gratitude to the helpful samaritan, until I saw a flash of recognition collectively pass over our faces as we made eye contact.
Him. The man in the window.
“You dropped these.” He says, his voice a little quieter than I’d expected from him, and I nod.
“Yeah, no. It’s these bags. Not really equipped to hold a pound of lemons.” I say, trying to gather the rest to my chest, our eyes still trained on the other.
“Can I ask why a pound of lemons?” He asks, a sort of playful lilt in his voice.
“Lemonade.” I say, almost immediately.
There’s a bit of confusion that flashes over his face. “Are you making a joke?” He replies, furrowing his brows a bit.
I realize that my response might’ve come off as too deadpan, and I shake my head to correct his misconception. “Oh, no. I’m serious.” I say, offering a grin. “I love lemonade. There’s a work party I’m attending, and I offered to make some for the office. Hence, the lemons.” I continued, gesturing at the aforementioned fruit, and feeling myself ramble slightly, but it didn’t seem to offend the recipient.
“That.. is a surprisingly normal response, given the situation.” The man says, nodding. “I love lemonade too.” He adds.
There’s a bit of silence as we both picked up lemons together, the man more focused than I on the task. I took the oppurtuinity within the lull of our conversation to truly examine the man, finally no longer separated by a pane of glass, and my observations all seemed to point towards one glaringly obvious conclusion.
The man in the window was hot.
He appeared older than me, yet his age did nothing to diminish the beauty of his features. His doe-like eyes seemed to shine with the same curiosity that I felt towards him. His hair was a bit longer than I’d expect from a man his age, but it suited him. The smooth slope of his nose had a certain charm to it, and his cheekbones were impossibly sharp. I wanted to run my thumb over the bone, and kiss him senseless until we could barely remember our own names.
“I’m (Y/N). You’re free to come over.” I say, a little more rushed than I’d wanted to. “For the lemonade, of course.” I add, trying to not drop the ball when it came to inviting this gorgeous man over to my apartment.
“Spencer.” He replies, offering his name to me. “I'll keep it in mind.” He says, smoothly. He flashes me a kind smile as he places the last of the lemons into my other bags or directly into my hands.
I’d hoped “I’ll keep it in mind” meant “within the next few days or so” but waiting seemed futile after a certain amount of time had passed. He never came, and I even stopped seeing him as often through the window in passing. In hindsight, it was rather naive to genuinely expect a near-stranger to come to my apartment, on account of an invitation that could have been interpreted as a thinly-veiled proposition.
It felt a bit dull, his lack of interest. I’d had a taste of his attention, and for some reason, I was hooked. It was irrational, and illogical, but I couldn’t help the desire I felt simply at the thought of this man. And in a mixture of perversion, desperation and pure brainlessness, I tried to use the one thing that had rarely failed me in the past. Sex.
I reasoned by telling myself it wasn’t like it was guaranteed he’d see me.
And it wasn’t as if I was standing directly by the window, exposing myself for his pleasure, and his pleasure only. So hey, if he saw my figure adorned in lacy lingerie in passing, and felt compelled to act on that in any way he chose, well. No harm, no foul, right?
So that’s exactly what I did. To my benefit, it was one of the hottest summers D.C had ever had, so the lack of clothing worked in my favor. I’d always felt quite confident in my own skin, so lounging around in bras, panties, barely-there cover-ups around my apartment didn’t strike me as the oddest thing to do. I felt comfortable, and in turn, possibly seducing the man in the window. Win-win.
And “win” I did, in some way at least, because I noticed the arrival of lingerie correlated in a sudden uptick in the times I’d see Spencer taking a longer-than-normal glimpse into my apartment. It was fucking exhilirating, to have his regard in this strange, taboo way. I’d find myself imagining him, surrounded by a sea of sheets and pillows slowly stroking his cock to the images of my scantily-clad body. I had no real way of verifying if this was the actual case, but the fantasy was enough to bring heat to my cheeks and an ache in my panties.
It started to drive me a little crazy, however, when after a week of this, literally no tangible reward came from the fruits of my labor. While I’d enjoyed his eyes on my form, that seemed to be all he was capable of. He seemed completely at ease with just watching (to my utter dismay) and it seemed the action I wanted him to take was sorely out of reach.
Reflecting on his shy, soft demeanor from the one time we’d spoken, I concluded that he might not be as forward as I am. It made sense; he never seemed to have visitors in his apartment and, seeming to be in his 40s without a stable partner, he probably wasn't accustomed to a woman's attention in this way. He didn’t exactly exude “womanizer” anyway from what I knew about him, and I began to connect his lack of initiative to these points.
It didn't deter me from continuing my attempts though. At best, I was at least providing a lonely middle-aged man some sorely needed imagery in the meantime. I’d always been a giver, anyhow.
It’s reasonable to assume there’d be some payoff down the road, right?
Wrong. I continued to wear increasingly revealing lingerie, going as far as just walking around naked once in a while. Nothing. I was a fucking saint at this point for continuing this for him.
It didn’t help that my mind insisted on taunting me with what I couldn’t have, as a moment of spare time in my day would constantly be preoccupied with thoughts of him in my bed, pinning my hands down and kissing up and down my neck. I’d imagine him pounding into me, or bouncing up and down on his cock, bringing us both to the throes of pleasure. I couldn’t halt the depravity of my thoughts, no matter how hard I tried.
What I also couldn’t stop, was the slow descent of my fingers into my panties one night, finding a delectable mess within them, signifying my deep arousal associated with the man. It’d been a long few weeks, the smell of summer and heat encasing my apartment, and a profound craving I couldn’t resist. I breathed out a sigh of relief as I began rubbing the small nub, alternating between up and down motions, and then a slow, circular rub. Little moans poured out my lips, before I quickly shed my panties entirely, watching a string of arousal stuck to them, kicking them haphazardly to the side, wanting more access to my clit.
My eyes naturally closed as I found myself lazing towards the precipice of release. Soft sighs and moans filled my apartment as I let my fingers rub a bit more desperately. I could see flashes of him again behind my eyes, his hand on me, instead of my own, mirroring the actions I was performing. A gasp of his name came tumbling out of me as the image became clearer and clear, my eyes opening almost frantically as I felt myself closer and closer.
That’s when I got the strangest sensation, and felt a pair of eyes on me. I jolted my head to the left, and saw Spencer, who was clearly watching at this point. His gaze was entirely trained on me, and similar to the first time he saw me, our eye contact didn’t deter him from his observation.
I refused to let it either, and kept my gaze trained on him. I was entirely exposed. I wouldn’t have been able to stop my actions if I’d had a gun to my head. It just felt too fucking good. A moment more of eye contact from him, and I felt the familiar clench and release from my body, waves of pleasure wracking my body. I let out another moan, but not once did my eyes leave his, as my back arched against my sheets, a silent plea on my part being conveyed.
Come here. What could you possibly be waiting for?
I watched him disappear from the window as I finished, both literally and figuratively, and panted, wondering if finally, finally, my prayers and fervent supplications would be answered.
After about 30 minutes, my anticipation was replaced with severe disappointment when I realized even after then, he wasn’t coming. I could no longer see him in the window, and at this point it seemed a little silly and pathetic to continue expecting him to come.
Maybe he was just entirely sexually inadept. That could be a possibility, right? How much more explicit could I get than this? I’d masturbated in front of him! Albeit, through a window, but masturbation regardless! Was this seriously all he was willing to do?
I roll my eyes at the thought. I came to accept that maybe, truly, there was nothing I could do to get this man to fuck me the way I deserved. Fine.
As I closed my eyes to get some necessary rest after my endeavors, I made up my mind that I’d buy curtains tomorrow. Fuck Spencer Reid, and his absolute inability to take any action in his goddamn life. Fuck this apartment. Fuck everything.
Was I dramatic? Yes. Was I still right? Also yes.
Despite the sour mood I’d taken to bed with me that evening, my dreams were anything but. The idea of Spencer Reid holding me down, whispering sweet and dirty nothings alike were all still incredibly tantalizing to my subconscious. I could hear his voice in my ear, soft pink lips brushing against the shell of my ear, a deep pressure imprinted onto my body, keeping me in my bed.
“Wake up, sweetheart.” He murmured, beckoning me out of the peaceful cocoon of sleep.
I felt a few more wet and warm kisses trailing up and down my neck, the sweetest sensation of pleasure being granted to me with every touch he gave.
“Need you to wake up, pretty girl.” He mumbles. “You really are so pretty up close.” His voice is slightly patronizing, and it does nothing to help the excitation that was steadily growing inside of me.
Suddenly, I became incredibly aware that the stimuli I was receiving didn’t appear to be a byproduct of my psyche, but rather- he was here? My eyes opened slowly to realize I wasn’t at all mistaken, the soft brush of his brown hair against my neck slightly tickling me as I came to.
“Atta girl.” He mumbles, his lips still mapping out every inch of my skin. Out of pure instinct, a slightly alarmed moan came from me, still unsure if I was dreaming or not. Surely I had to be dreaming. I had to be, because how the fuck did Spencer Reid get into my apartment? Into my bed?
“You want this, yeah?” He murmurs, taking a second to gaze down at me. I realized he’d been on top of me this whole time, and the pressure I’d felt in my dream was his skin on mine, trapping me in between his strong chest and the soft sheets adorning my mattress. “I know you do. Saw your little show and everything.” He breathes out, desperately, almost.
I know I should’ve thought about it. Perhaps I should’ve pondered on the idea of letting a man who’d just broken into my apartment full access to my body as he pleased, but there was no time. He was here, and how could I have ever said no to that?
There’s an equally as desperate and breathy, “yes” that escapes my lips, and before I can finish saying the word, he dives down, meeting my lips with his, absolutely devouring me with no hesitation whatsoever. If I'd thought his previous ministrations were delightful, this was absolutely heavenly.
I moan softly into his mouth, wanting to tangle my hands in his hair, or latch them onto his shoulders and sink my nails deep into the skin that resided there- anything to show even a semblance of control in this situation, but it seemed Spencer had already thought of that, pinning my hands against the mattress so tightly, I couldn’t have moved if I’d exerted every last bit of strength into it.
“God, the first time- first time I saw you.” He mumbles in between kisses. “With those lemons. I knew they’d fall. Saw you through the window across the street and practically ran. Wanted to meet you so badly.”
A small whimper escapes me, and I can’t help but get wetter at the thought. I knew he’d been watching me through the window, but the idea that I captured his attention, outside of my apartment, in the most mundane of situations only served to heighten the arousal I felt, my thighs rubbing together for any kind of relief.
He notices the movement and grins, planting one last kiss on my lips before slipping down. His hands cup the backs of my knees, forcing me to spread my previously shut legs.
“You had the prettiest voice.” He breathes out, examining my glistening heat. “Fuck. Couldn’t stop thinking about how you’d sound, screaming my name.” He leans forward, planting a chaste kiss on my clit that caused an incredibly breathtaking jolt through my body.
“Spencer-” I moan, my head rolling back as I felt it, my back arching slightly.
“Yeah, just like that.” He mumbles, clearly pleased. “Good girl.”
His hands traveled upward from where he’d been situated between my legs and squeezed my breast blindly. It didn’t feel like it was for my pleasure, but rather that he was desperate to touch anywhere he possibly could. Anyone else, and I might’ve been annoyed with the incessant touching, but with him?
It was so fucking hot.
“That goddamned lingerie.” He mumbles. “The things I wanted to do to you. Did you know that?”
I looked at him through hooded lids, unsure what he meant, and he took my diversion of attention to quickly tweak one of my nipples, eliciting another surprised moan from my mouth.
“I’m so much stronger than this, usually.” His large hands continue to squeeze and grope at my breasts. “But you.” He whispers, a hint of a growl making its way into his tone. “Had to push the limits. Practically begging me to come here and take you.”
I let out a gasp as I felt his hands trail down my stomach, the cool touch of his fingertips causing the muscles to tense up there.
“I’m gonna do it.” He whispers, his face only illuminated by the moonlight streaming through the open window, but I could still see the dangerous glint in his eye, thrilling me even further. “Fuck you exactly how you want it.”
Before I’m able to react to the sentiment, he’s grabbing onto my hips and turning me over, a yelp drawn out from me.
“Hands and knees.” He says, in an authoritative tone that doesn’t leave any room for any disagreement. I comply quickly, much to his elation.
“You’re so good for me, yeah? Gonna ruin you. Just how you want.”
There’s a hint in condescension in his tone, like he’s making fun of me for wanting to be fucked this badly, but I can barely pay any mind about it, especially when I feel his cock slotting itself betweet my folds, separated only by his boxers, a shaky moan coming from Spencer.
I can feel his hands leaving my hips and the slight lean away as he quickly shucks off the fabric, and within the next second, he’s pushing into me, providing me with a stretch and fulfillment that was so much better than I could’ve ever imagined. It doesn’t take him long to set a fast pace, the sound of our skin slapping and the smell of sex permeating the room.
“Fuck, you feel so good.” He moans out, and I let out similar noises in tandem.
I can barely find it in me to stay coherent. I want to scream how good he feels, how big his cock feels in me, how close I was- but instead the only thing I could manage was the borderline scream of his name and loud sobs of pleasure, fully at the mercy of the man behind me. I can feel the way I clamp down on him, absolutely imploring him for as much as he could give me.
“Gonna come for me, yeah?” He says, feeling the clench of my walls on his cock. “Come on, pretty girl. Give me what I want.” He murmurs lowly, leaning down closer to my ear. His hand shoots out a moment later, beginning to rub my clit, similar to how I had been doing a few hours earlier as he watched me, and the memory and sensation of it is enough to hurl me off the edge, my walls tightening around his cock as waves of pleasure wracked through my body.
It seemed that was enough for him as well. I felt his hips still, and a sudden warmth at my deepest point. He let out a groan of relief as he thrusted once, twice more, and then pulled out, his cum slipping down my thighs as he plopped down next to me. I’d already collapsed the second he pulled out, panting as I came down from the orgasm.
“You good?” He mumbles, wearily, and I can feel him moving aside my hair to kiss at my shoulder.
“Mhm.” I murmur back, a small sigh of relief escaping me. There’s a beat of silence, before he breaks it.
“Tomorrow.” He murmurs. “Wanna go out with me?”
I raise an eyebrow, turning at him with a playful expression- as playful as I could get in this state anyway. “Where to?”
“Target.” He mumbles, still stroking my back lazily, his eyes shining with something less intense than lust now, but still enough to turn my stomach over with butterflies.
“Target?” I say, squinting my eyes. “Why Target?”
“We’re buying you some curtains.” He says, a small grin appearing on his face. “And maybe a stronger lock.”
I giggle at that, rolling my eyes a bit. “But then you don’t get to see me anymore. I kind of liked what we had going on.”
“I did too.” He whispers, his tone slightly vulnerable now. “But I like this a lot more.”
A small smile plasters itself to my face as I nod.
“Me too.” I whisper back, biting my lip.
A mutual understanding passed through the both of us as we smiled at each other in the dark, and for a split second, I imagined myself possibly loving this more someday.
All in good time. Right now, I was going to sleep, protected by his soft, strong arms. That was enough for now. We’d finally gotten what we wanted.
woah!! trying to finally get back into writing semi regularly i see. i hope this was enjoyable. this is one of those pieces i'm kind of unsure about, so please, please interact if you liked it! likes, comments, reblogs, anything! or let me know if you didn't! i live for feedback of any kind. thank you for reading anyhow, i am very grateful for it <3
also lol if it wasn’t obvious i listened to “she” for fic inspo lol. linked below
#spencer reid#spencer reid smut#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid x reader#criminal minds fanfiction#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x you#spencer reid self insert#spencer reid imagine#criminal minds self insert#criminal minds#criminal minds imagine#criminal minds smut#criminal minds fic#criminal minds fanfic#dr spencer reid#criminal minds x reader#criminal minds fandom#doctor spencer reid#Spotify
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Dealer!Rafe because we love him 💸💕
As pampered and spoiled as you already were, you were definitely not yet use to Rafe spending money on you the way he did. The relationship was fairly new and he quite literally didn’t make you pay for anything. You certainly felt hesitant on asking him to spoil you, which is why you bit your lower lip in hesitation as you sent him a text.
‘I need my lashes filled… 🥴’ You sent him, hoping he wouldn’t be bothered as he had left about 20 minutes ago with some business to take care of. It wasn’t but a few seconds later your phone buzzed with a reply from him.
‘Why are you telling me this for?’ It read, making you frown immediately. You sat your phone down, deciding not to reply. Maybe you were reading too far into it and should just ask him anyway or maybe he only chose when to spend his money on you the way he wanted to. You went to pick up your phone again, the screen left open to reveal two more messages had been sent by your boyfriend.
‘I gotta lotta shit to do today.’
‘you want me to pay for yo lashes or what?’
You slowly typed out the reply ‘Yes… if you can…🥺’
The next notification on your phone being the Apple Pay symbol with $1,000 dollars. (Yes dealer rafe got it like that 😜). Another message sent immediately after, making your lower tummy flutter.
‘I’m gonna be gone a while, get you some food, and whatever else you want mama.’
Dealer!Rafe was cold, arrogant, an asshole really with violent behavior. One thing though is he would always make sure you were taken care of and got the best princess treatment a girl could ask for. And not to mention the best dick too…
#rafe cameron#dealer!rafe#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron smut#rafe cameron prompt#rafe cameron blurb#rafe concepts#rafe coded#drew starkey#obx smut#drew starkey x reader#obx#drew starkey smut#outer banks
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Can’t get loser gf and sukuna visiting the zoo with yuji out of my head, maybe you could do something with that?
𝝑𝝔 an: it’s such a sweet concept!! thank you baby, hope you enjoy!! and sorry for responding so late ;(
initially, it was jin who was supposed to take little yuuji to the zoo, but he is a busy man, y’know? so of course, he just forces his younger brother sukuna to do that instead.
sukuna is very lame about, he acts like he doesn’t want to deal with yuuji because he is kind of an asshole, but as soon as jin mentions that he can also bring you along and he will pay for the tickets himself — after a beat of silence sukuna quickly mutters ‘fine’, ending the call, and texts you about picking you up in an our.
yuuji is so excited to spend the day with his uncle!! i imagine him being so happy he can barely stop himself from running and jumping around. and the only person to match his excitement is you, heh.
yuuji didn’t know that you were coming along too so of course when he sees sukuna walking out of the building they stopped by with you, he rushes out of the car to greet you! you’re just as joyful as him as you hug him and place a gentle kiss on his cheek, making him smile widely. his uncle watches the scene silently, with adoration brimming in his eyez, coming to his senses a second later to bark at both of you to get in the car.
throughout the ride yuuji entertains you with various short stories including jin and some of little friends from the neighbourhood, which you intently listen to, completely ignoring sukuna’s huffing and puffing since you exchanged your usual spot at the passenger’s seat with yuuji’s on the backseat.
when you arrive at the zoo, yuuji tugs you out and just runs inside while sukuna parks the car. at that, he rolls his eyes and intentionally slows down his pace just to rile up itadori, who swings your hands around just to do something and puffs his cheeks at his uncle’s annoying tendencies.
yuuji is in so much awe when the three of you finally enter!! hands over his cheeks as he inhales sharply before running off to the first animal he sets his big eyes on; loudly calling you and sukuna to come see whilst sukuna takes the opportunity to hold your hand instead and lazily walk you both over to his nephew.
you can’t stop looking at yuuji, he’s just so adorable and lovable :( the way he talks to every animal he sees and tries to make friends with them, AHH HE SO CUTE i can’t. just, imagine this little boy running around and you taking pictures of him when he’s posing with a tiger that’s right by his side behind the glass, when he’s feeding a monkey, when he’s laughing at deer taking a shit😭😭.
when it gets too crowded, sukuna sees the impatience on yuuji’s face, who tries to jump as high as he can to see the next animal, and lifts him to place him on his shoulders. of course, he’s cranky about it too, complaining about how heavy yuuji is and threatening to throw him down into the one of the exhibits, but in reality, hearing yuuji’s joyful laughter is one of his favourite things in the world so he lets him hang up there until the end.
you manage to capture that sweet moment in a picture: sukuna’s eyes looking up at his nephew, a small smile on his lips paired with a soft expression, while yuuji is holding up a piece sign and beaming brighter than the sun itself.
when you’re with yuuji it seems that sometimes you and the little guy share the same braincell which means that you’re no better than him when it comes to cute animals. cooing and awing at them along with the pink-haired boy, running around with him with no care for the world and being excited just like a little kid. sukuna gets all warm inside when he sees you two laughing together, his eyes projecting a pretty neat future onto the scene.
it’s just a very very nice day, y’know? very fulfilling and very peaceful.
#— miya writes!#jjk x reader#cool bf sukuna x loser gf reader#jujutsu kaisen#jujustsu kaisen x reader#sukuna ryomen x reader#— miya’s inbox!#sukuna x reader#ryomen sukuna x reader#sukuna ryomen x you#jjk sukuna#sukuna jujutsu kaisen#sukuna ryomen#ryomen sukuna#sukuna#sukuna fluff#ryomen sukuna x you#sukuna x you#sukuna ryomen fluff#jjk fluff
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The Box | Part One [Boxerry]
When Y/N’s brother dies unexpectedly, Harry breaks the news that she now owns an illegal underground fight club. While she wants nothing to do with that lifestyle, Harry is determined to not let her brother's dream die with him.
A/N: so this was the Patreon exclusive series that I decided to bring over here to share with you guys. I wanted to turn it into one long fic for you guys but it was over the block limit so I've had to split it into two parts. It’s still a hefty one so grab some snacks and get comfy, and please be sure to read through the warnings before continuing <3
Warnings: (in no particular order, for both chapters) mentions of death/loss of a sibling and grandparent, mentions of miscarriage, unsupportive parents, swearing, brief descriptions of illegal fighting, money laundering, use of weapons, brief mentions of alcohol, mentions of anxiety, schizophrenia and multiple personality disorder, smut; kissing, teasing, dirty talk, fingering, protected sex, oral (both receiving/69)
WC: 19.6k
//
In her 24 years of life, Y/N has only ever been to two funerals. Her first was when she was twelve, to the funeral of her great grandmother. Given, she didn’t know exactly what was happening, but she understood enough. She cried the entire time.
The second funeral she attended was her aunts. Just five years ago when she died in a freak car crash that killed twelve innocent people. Y/N was nineteen, fresh out of school and ready to start her new job, almost putting her deposit down on her new flat. She cried the entire time.
And now, at age 24, she stands at her brother's grave. The same brother that taught her to tie her shoes, that saved her from playground bullies. The brother that helped her move into her flat, that checked in on her when she wouldn’t eat for days while under the stress of their parents. The brother that comforted her after bad breakups, that taught her to fight and defend herself. The brother that risked and sacrificed so much, to give her the life she deserves because her parents labelled her a castaway.
She was the family disappointment because she didn't have her life figured out. Because she took up a job caring for the elderly, opposed to following in her mother’s footsteps and becoming a successful surgeon, or basking in her father's shadow of his worldwide corporations.
Both her mother and father standoff to her side, sniffling back tears of heartache as they comfort one another. Y/N won’t allow herself to mourn for her best friend with them. She won’t let them see her broken and ruined for her brother. Not for them to scold her, to tell her to pick her chin up and stop acting like a child.
She holds it all in as the rest of the funeral party disperse. It’s a fairly large turnout, even if Y/N and her parents don’t know or recognise half the mourners there. They told Y/N they knew him from the fights. Y/N told her parents they knew him from the docks. Even dead, his secret is safe with her.
Her cheeks are damp but not from tears. The wind has been lashing against her body for the past hour of the service and her eyes are still stinging. She doesn’t have to look in the mirror to know that her nose is angrily leaking, or that her eyes look awfully bloodshot.
She continues to hover at her brother’s grave, hoping maybe her parents will fuck off and let her have this moment alone. They don’t. They stand behind her, a few feet away, eyes on their daughter like hawks. Like she’s the unstable one. She has to scoff to herself.
Y/N lets her eyes run over his burial once more. Sammy Y/L/N. A loving son, brother and friend. She promises she’ll come back later, when their overbearing parents aren’t breathing down her neck and she thinks she knows exactly what Sam would say to her.
“Don’t say anything stupid. This is my day, remember.”
She has to fight back the teary smile that tugs on her lips and she turns around to her parents. Her hands are shoved in her coat pocket, shoulders hunched up to offer some form of protection to her ears against the lashing winds.
David reaches for her first, arm outstretched to coddle his daughter to his side. Y/N lets him — needs that comfort today even if it is just from her father. He kisses the top of her head, his wife, Layla, coddling in his other side and David feels a little relief, having both his girls on his arm.
“I hope you’re going to stay for the wake,” David asks softly. Y/N doesn’t miss the huff that slips from her mother's lips and she knows her dad has no doubt just pinched her shoulder because of it. She isn’t going to let them get her down, especially not today.
She nods. “I am.”
When they return to Y/N’s childhood home, she feels sick. She hasn’t been back here in almost four years and the last time she did, she got into an argument with her parents and Sam was the one to take her home and spend the weekend to make sure she was okay.
This time, she’s there because of him and he isn’t there to save her.
Nothing has changed. It’s still the same slightly outdated furniture but she can tell Layla got David to re-wallpaper the lounge. It’s quite busy, if she’s being honest, and Y/N’s feeling a little exhausted in preparation of cleaning up any little slip of the tongues these randoms let out.
The buffet has already been tucked into, Y/N’s grandparents having set out a lovely spread of Sam’s favourite finger foods from when he was younger. It’s solemn and quiet, save for the small bits of chatter between mourners and Y/N feels more than a little lost.
She’s shrugging her coat off and throwing it over the sofa, rubbing her hands together to get some friction of warmth back in her blood. The house is full of more unknown faces than it is with friends and family. They seem to keep to themselves in a separate part of the house and as much as Y/N wants to avoid them, intimidated and somewhat uncomfortable, she sucks it up and shimmies over with a tray of canapes.
The closer she gets, the less unfamiliar they look. She notices a couple of them, some faces she saw when Sam would pick her up from a failing date, or when she would go to his place for lunch and they would be just leaving. They’re all quite stoic, the seven of them and she clears her throat, a small, tight-lipped smile on her face.
The men part just enough to open their circle to her and she’s faced with tall figures and broad shoulders. In her small glory, she has to raise her chin to meet their gaze and she offers up the tray of finger food close to her chest.
“Um, thank you for coming. Sam would’ve appreciated it,” she mumbles the words Layla had been drilling in her head all morning.
They don’t say anything and Y/N lets out a shaky breath. “I take it you knew him from the fights?” She doesn’t miss the way their eyes widen slightly and two of the seven shift a little in their spot.
She laughs breathily. “It’s alright. My brother was my best friend, I knew about it all. Our parents still don’t, though. So I’d appreciate it if it stayed that way. They don’t need to know what he was really doing when he said he was at work.”
A few nod but she’s too busy staring at her feet to notice it. “So you’re Y/N?” A timid voice perks up and Y/N snaps her gaze to the tall blond directly opposite her. She nods shyly, eyes heavy and shoulders sagged.
The blond nods again. “Spoke about ya a lot, he did. Always said if anything happened to him, it was us that had to look out for ya,” he smiles sadly and Y/N really can’t help the tears that pool in her eyes. Typical Sam. Always looking out for his baby sister, even from the dead.
Her eyes rake over the group, some too solemn to make eye contact and others staring at their drinks. But the man to her right doesn’t look away from her face. His bright green eyes are captivating, to say the least, his broad shoulders making his 6ft frame even larger than it is and his wispy brown hair is barely styled but it sits well in a central parting, swooping just a little across the sides of his temples. From where she stands, his jaw and chin are a little stubbly, lips pink and a little damp from his drink.
He looks familiar, Y/N thinks she might’ve seen him in a few fight photos Sam had shown her before, and she can’t tell if he recognises her or not. Though, if she did see a picture of him before, she’s sure he would be in boxing shorts and a tight t-shirt, not a slick black suit with a white shirt and tie. He makes no effort to break the intense gaze he’s offering, so Y/N does. She wills herself to look away and scratches nervously at the side of her neck.
“Well, thank you again for coming. It means a lot.”
//
It was supposed to be an easy day. She had planned for a small arts and crafts session for the residents and some tea and sandwiches after. Y/N loved planning activities, it usually gave the other staff a chance to take a break or catch up on their paperwork.
But Dylan had a funny moment that resulted in a gloopy paint bottle being chucked at her head and she’s leaving work sporting a cut on her forehead and a three-hour-old migraine. She isn’t even leaving work at 3, like she usually would.
She’s coming out of the home at 6 because upon Dylan’s behaviour, he tore up the rest of the group's paintings and broke one of the staff laptops — resulting in two and half hours spent calming him down, administering PRN and writing up several incident reports.
She’s tired, she’s hungry and she just wants to sit down. It’s cold out, the sky thickening black above her and she knows a storm is due. She quite likes a storm, if she’s honest — just doesn’t much like to drive in them.
She’s rubbing out a kink in her neck as she approaches her car, eyes too busy rolled back as she walks blindly. Y/N sees the feet first — a pair of Adidas trainers — then her eyes trail up a pair of toned legs that are adorned in a pair of shorts. Her brows are pinched and she looks up some more, notices the man leaning on the bonnet of her car and his toned arms are folded over his chest.
It’s when she cranes her neck up a little to see his face that her worry is softly eased a little, but not entirely. She remembers him from her brother's funeral three weeks ago.
“Can I help you?” She asks, voice a little throaty and scratchy.
He’s got a baseball cap on his head, longish brown hair curling around the rim of it and his ears. His eyes are a little squinted and there’s a heavy stubble that decorates his jaw and chin. Y/N thinks he looks much more intimidating in this attire, opposed to the suit she last saw him in.
He drinks her in before he speaks. She’s wearing a pair of boyfriend jeans and a knitted jumper, and her hair is half plaited up, the rest falling into natural waves down her back. He thinks she looks quite pretty for an elderly support worker.
“I’m Harry. I used to box with your brother.”
She nods, biting at her inner cheek. “Figured that when no one recognised you or your friends at the wake.” She squints at him again, scratching at her sore neck. “Look I don’t mean to be rude, but what do you want? How do you even know I work here?” Her tone holds more accusation as she rambles on and Harry can’t help a somewhat amused smile tug on the corners of his mouth.
He shrugs. “I have my ways.” His arms are still crossed over his chest but he didn’t answer Y/N’s first question. She raises a brow and Harry inhales heavily before his shoulders sag and he drops his arms to his side. “I need t’ talk to ya about the club.”
Her brows are pinched harder than before and she shakes her head in confusion, shifting from one foot to the other. “Club? What club?” Her movement allows Harry to see the cut on her smooth forehead and he frowns, reaching closer to inspect it but Y/N’s too quick and with wide eyes, she backs away.
He realises his forwardness and holds his hands up in surrender; standing straighter. “The underground club. Y’know… the one your brother left to you when he died.” She blinks again, lips parting and she’s blubbering a little like she’s trying to understand what he’s talking about.
Realisation is quick to wash over Harry’s face and he nods. Of course Sam wouldn’t tell her anything about what she’d be taking over. Typical.
She takes a deep breath. “Why the fuck would I be left an underground fight club by my brother? He was just a boxer,” she sighs tiredly, punching the bridge of her nose and Harry frowns harder. So maybe she didn’t really know anything about him.
He shakes his head. “Your brother wasn’t just a fighter, Y/N. He owned the club. Sam was the best fighter we had in The Box and he bought it outright five years ago. Always said if anything happened to him, you’d be the one to take it over, do whatever you think best wi’ it.”
Y/N is silent, tears welling in her eyes and she stomps her foot like an insolent child, like she can’t believe this is fucking happening. “You’re telling me I now own an illegal underground boxing club?” Her voice is frantic, high-pitched and whispered through gritted teeth.
Her hands find their way to her hair, gripping on her roots in disbelief. “It’s a good business investment, if you're into that.” He shrugs, arms crossed over his chest again and he’s struggling to understand why she’s so worked up about it.
If Harry had just inherited a three quarters of a million pound business, he’d be fucking ecstatic. But Y/N isn’t ecstatic and she’s staring at him in complete bewilderment.
“No, Harry. No, I’m not into that. Sell it, give it away, I don’t care. I don’t want it.” She shoves past him, unlocking her car and opening the door. Harry’s watching with wide eyes and parted lips.
She can’t be serious.
He closes the door before she can fully open it and she seethes up at him, teeth gritted and all. “You can’t give it away and you can’t sell it! It’s your brother's life.” He fights back and Y/N bursts, veins popping and she pushes him away by his chest.
“And I can’t fucking keep it! I’m a care worker, for God’s sake! I can’t have shit like that tied to me.” Her hands are waving sporadically, chest heaving in panic as she rips her door open and clambers in the car.
Harry’s gripping onto the door, preventing her from shutting it. He never meant to show up and send her in a spiral of anger and panic. Harry digs into his pocket, pulling out a little business card and handing it to her, waiting for her to take it.
“Look, jus’... jus’ sleep on it, yeah? My number and the club's address is on this, jus’ take it ‘n think about it. Please.”
She eyes the card sceptically, gnawing on her inner cheek. She knows he’s right, that she shouldn’t ruin her brother's legacy with one shitty, selfish decision she makes. But she also knows that she’s right — that she can’t afford to have that kind of business in her name.
Y/N looks back up at Harry, lets her heart flutter a little under his gaze despite knowing these are awful circumstances to get butterflies under. But she sees the desperation in his eyes and she supposes maybe it’s because he wants Sam’s life to carry on through the business.
She takes the card and drives off.
//
“Why haven’t you been to see your brother?”
Y/N closes her eyes for a moment, struggles to keep herself in check. It’s been a long day and the last she needs is her mother chastising her on her break.
“Because I’ve been working double shifts all week, Mum.”
She hears her mother huff from the other end of the line, no doubt rolling her eyes.
God, why did Sam have to leave her all alone in this godforsaken world? Why did he have to get in that fucking car?
Deciding that Y/N does not want to be spending the last few hours of her shift fighting back tears, she cuts her mother off before she can think of anything else to question her on.
“Look, I’ve got to go. Meds round is in the next half hour so I need to get things sorted.”
The line is cut off as quickly as she speaks. Y/N tries not to get too into her head about her mother. About the lack of compassion the woman has shown her during both childhood and now, early adulthood.
If she allows her mind to wander down that path, she’s not sure she’ll ever find the exit.
She leaves the office after allowing herself a moment to compose herself. Across from her, the little light above ROOM 13 flashes and she smiles to herself.
She’s outside the door within seconds, knocking softly before letting herself in. “It’s Y/N… are you okay, Mary?”
The elderly woman sits in her chair, a ball of wool in her lap as she continues knitting. There’s a childlike grin on her lips, eyes full of excitement as she stares at her favourite carer.
“I didn’t think you worked Mondays!”
Y/N laughs, taking a seat next to her. She takes it upon herself to unravel a little more string for her.
“I don’t. I’m covering for Frankie. I should’ve come and said hello sooner, it’s just been a bit busy today, Mary. I hope you can forgive me.”
Mary smiles broadly, nudging Y/N with her elbow. “You know you’ll always be my favourite, Penny.”
She smiles at the nickname. Mary has called her that since her first day at the home all those years ago – when Y/N gave her a penny from her purse for her scratch card and she won the jackpot. That was it. Y/N was Mary’s lucky penny.
“How are you feeling today?”
Mary hums. “Oh, I feel so wonderful. My grandson is coming to visit today. And as far as I can remember... you’re still single, aren’t you?”
Y/N rolls her eyes playfully with a huff. “You’re not setting me up with your grandson, Mary.”
She pouts, unhappy. “Why not? He’s a handsome lad and you’re very beautiful. You’d make such gorgeous great grandbabies for me!”
Y/N almost chokes on her tongue, blinking fast as she tries to catch her breath. “Mary!”
“What? It’s not like I’m getting any younger!”
She can’t quite believe her ears. Mary has talked about her grandson a few times, but she’s never once alluded to setting him and Y/N up. She does not need her patient getting involved in her love life.
“He’s a handsome young man, your age… maybe a couple years older. And he’s a personal trainer! Even runs the gym he works at!”
Y/N pinches the bridge of her nose, eyes closed. She’s wondering if she’s got enough time to escape the building before her grandson arrives. She wouldn’t put it past Mary to scour the entire home for her.
“Oh, really?” she asks, playing into it for Mary’s sake.
She grins as she nods, looking back down to her knitting.
“And what’s his name?” Y/N asks, fiddling with the yarn between her fingers.
Mary gasps. “Harry!”
Y/N eyes widen at the volume of her voice, looking at Mary, who’s looking at the door.
“Hello, Gran.”
Oh, you’ve got to be fucking kidding.
“Of course it fucking is,” Y/N mumbles under her breath.
She stands, plastering a kind smile across her lips. Harry sees right through it, hiding his own smirk as he takes her in. Her attire is completely different from when he saw her last week.
Her hair is a bit shorter, and instead of her jumper and jeans, she’s wearing a pair of black leggings and a purple nurses shirt.
“Nice to meet you, Harry.” She extends a hand to him politely, which he more than happily takes.
He can see how much this pains her.
Mary clears her throat. “Harry this is Y/N… but I like to call her Penny.”
He raises a brow, looking between his Gran and Y/N.
“Oh, so this is Penny?” He looks at Y/N. “I had no idea you were my Gran’s favourite. She talks about you all the time.”
Y/N smiles through pursed lips, feeling a little embarrassed, though she’s not sure why.
“Thank you for looking after Gran, it’s lovely to meet you, Penny.”
She smiles tightly, nodding her head before quickly combing through her brain for an excuse to leave.
Y/N knows it's only a coincidence that the same man trying to get her to take over her dead brother’s underground fight club is also the same man that is her resident's grandson, but it still makes her head spin a little too much.
“I’ve got to get started on teatime meds. It was lovely to meet you again, Harry.”
She excuses herself as quickly as she can. Walking into the meds room, she feels like this is Sam’s way of forcing her hand. She looks up to the ceiling with a frustrated huff.
“Even from the dead, you’re a pain in my ass.”
A knock on the door makes her jump and as it slowly peels open, her eyebrows furrow. “What are you doing? You can’t be in here!”
Harry closes the door as he shuffles inside, hands up in feign surrender and there’s an apologetic look in his eyes.
“I’m sorry if me being here freaked you out a bit. I only visit Gran on Mondays because Sam never wanted us boys bringing trouble around you. I swear, I didn’t know you’d be working today. You’ve never worked Monday’s.”
Her shoulders slack as she exhales deeply. “He didn’t want you bringing me trouble, and yet he’s the one that left an entire illegal business to me.”
Harry huffs out a laugh.
“If he was secretly loaded, why couldn’t he have just left me some cash instead?”
“Honestly? Because he knew no amount he left you would equate to what you could earn running The Box. He’s only ever looked out for you, you know?”
Y/N scoffs out a laugh, shaking her head as she turns back to her paperwork. “I would’ve preferred it if he left me nothing. If Sam trusted you so much, why can’t you just take it over?”
“Because he didn’t leave it to me.”
“No,” Y/N huffs. “Instead, he left it to his clueless little sister who could really do without the hassle.”
Harry purses his lips shut, stuffing his hands into his pocket. If it weren’t for his bestfriend’s passing, he’d probably bark out a laugh at Y/N’s little strop.
“Look,” he begins. “No one is expecting you to take it over and know what you’re doing. Why else did you think he asked me to talk you through it?”
Y/N turns to him, a little pissed off. “And you couldn’t have started with that?”
She’s starting to feel like she could have a breakdown at any given moment. The last thing she needs is taking over an illegal underground boxing club with her dead brother’s friend showing her the ropes.
“I can’t deal with all of this right now. I need to get this meds round done, so if you don’t mind…” Y/N gestures to the door, her other hand on her hip.
She doesn’t make eye contact, her gaze fixed on the floor beneath her. Harry sighs, nodding more to himself than her as he reaches for the handle.
“You have my number. Don’t be afraid to use it.”
She stays silent as he leaves the meds room, a shaky exhale slipping past her lips as the door closes shut. She feels guilty, for being so snappy and rude. But Y/N isn’t sure how else she was expected to react.
Her big brother dies in a freak car accident, leaves a multi-million pound illegal business in her name and she’s supposed to just be okay about it?
Her heart hurts. For herself, for Sam. God, she misses him. She just wants to wake up from this bad dream and talk to her big brother about her day.
Y/N wonders what he would say to her right now if he could. Would he hug her and tell her it’s okay? Remind her that she doesn’t have to go through with this if she dosn’t want to?
She scoffs to herself. No, Sammy would be selfish. I looked after you, now you need to look after my legacy. She can hear his voice in her head, clear as day. It makes her smile, for a brief moment, before she’s overcome with sadness and anxiety once again.
In all honesty, Y/N needs to get her head out of her ass. If Sam had asked Harry to show her the ropes and help her into this transition, then perhaps she should be taking this a little more seriously.
She rolls her neck, taking a deep breath. She’s back to staring at the ceiling, like somehow it’ll connect her to heaven radio and she has to laugh at herself.
“I hope you’re pleased with yourself up there.”
//
Y/N stands outside, toes wiggling in her converse as she gnaws on her inner cheek. The building is a tall, dance academy, decked out with the poshest of entrances and Y/N tilts her head to the side. There’s no way in hell this is The Box.
Her squinted eyes flicker back to the card. Not much is on there – an address, Harry’s name, and number. She contemplated calling him before showing up, but she knew if she planned to do this, she would’ve backed out.
So instead, very spontaneously, Y/N drove here right after her shift – not even allowing herself time to rethink or second guess herself.
Gnawing on her bottom lip, she makes her way inside the entrance. It’s quite grand, beautiful even. The ceilings are tall, marble floors. If she’s honest, she feels extremely out of place with her slightly scuffed Converse padding across the ground.
She makes her way to the reception desk tentatively, tapping the business card on the knuckle of her thumb. The blonde woman looks up with a smile, though Y/N’s sure she’s likely judging her in her mind.
“Hi, can I help?” Her voice is soft as she speaks and Y/N clears her throat.
“I’m not sure,” she chuckles nervously. “My name’s Y/N… I’m Sam’s sister. I, uh… I’m looking for Harry?”
The receptionist's smile no longer meets her eyes as it begins to shrink. The look on her face makes Y/N’s stomach twist slightly, her polite smile faltering.
The blonde woman looks at her for a moment – it’s like a flicker of grief passes through her eyes before she quickly composes herself again. She fiddles with something under her desk, retrieving what looks like a key card and handing it to Y/N.
“You’ll be needing this. It’s the first door to your left, just down that hall.” She nods her head over to the other side of the reception and Y/N takes the card with pursed lips and a tight smile.
Nothing can ever describe the fear and anxiety that bubble in her tummy. If she’s being completely honest with herself, she’s terrified of what she’ll see behind that door. What harsh reality of Sam’s life she’ll be privy to.
It’s the closest she’s felt to him since he passed, and yet she’s never felt so distant in her entire life.
Behind the door, is a set of stairs. They lead to an extremely large expanse of a basement; concrete floors, and concrete walls. The lighting is dim and to her surprise, the place is bustling.
Three large boxing rings sit in the length of the basement, and gym equipment is spread out across the far right of the stairs entrance. She can see a small shower sign to her left, and right in front of her, she notices him.
He’s sweating, struggling to catch his breath. His hands are resting on his knees, his back hunched over slightly as he lets out shallow pants to gain control of his breathing.
Harry and his opponent stand in the middle of the ring. There’s a cocky grin on his lips as he stands up straight, tearing the Velcro on his gloves as he tugs them off his hands and throws them out of the ring. Jason, Harry’s sparring partner, waddles over, face beet red and chest splotchy.
“Good fight.” He shakes Harry’s hand, a tired yet smug look on his face and Harry can’t help but roll his eyes when he pulls away, taking out his gum shield as he does so.
He grins. “You tried.”
The sight of him makes Y/N’s chest heave. The sweat adoring his tattooed chest and torso, the way his golden skin glistens under the dim lighting.
She feels a bit more suited in this environment than she did upstairs. At least down here, she isn’t self-conscious about her tatty converse.
Y/N takes a moment to compose herself, letting her eyes flutter around the other trainers. She doesn’t recognize any faces, not even any from Sam’s funeral.
And amid her surveillance, Harry notices her presence. He’s unwrapping the bandage across his knuckles as he watches her, ignoring Jason’s words about going for drinks for Tony’s birthday.
When Y/N turns back to Harry, their eyes finally meet. She offers a nervous smile through pursed lips, barely raising her hand from the side of her body in a timid wave.
“Hey, you hitting the showers or what?” Jason’s voice breaks Harry from his little trance and he hums.
“Yeah. I’ll meet you guys later.”
Harry’s crouching under the top rope of the boxing ring, climbing over the bottom two, and jumping off the platform. He approaches Y/N with a breezy smile, his eyes light and welcoming.
“Hey.”
Y/N clears her throat. “Hi.”
There’s a moment of silence between them both. The gym winds down as more people head for the lockers and showers. Y/N notices and supposes it’s closing time.
“Are you closing?” She finally asks.
Harry looks around them. “Oh… yeah the guys are going for drinks for someone’s birthday. We open back up at 11 for the midnight fights.”
She raises an eyebrow. “Midnight fights?”
Harry nods. “Yeah… training during the day and then we host fights on Thursday, Friday, and Saturday nights.”
Y/N chews on the inside of her cheek, nodding slowly as she takes his words in. Harry can read her like a book and can tell she’s slightly overwhelmed but even more so, she’s intrigued.
He scratches the back of his head. “I can show you to Sam’s office if you want to talk?”
It takes Y/N a moment to consider Harry’s offer. She’s unsure if she’s mentally and emotionally prepared to see her late brother's office. She’s not sure how it’ll make her feel.
But if she can drive here after work without thinking about it too much, she supposes seeing Sam’s office would be better done spontaneously than planned. Because if she allows herself to think and ponder and doubt, she’ll never make it past the door.
So she nods her head with a soft ‘okay’ and Harry leads her through the gym.
Y/N notices the lock on the door first, then the key that Harry pulls out of his pocket. She wonders how close he and Sam must’ve been for Harry to have access to the office.
He pushes the door open and flicks on the light, allowing Y/N to enter first. She takes her steps slowly, tentatively. The office is small, nothing fancy. There’s an oak desk, an office chair, some filing cabinets, and framed photos of past fights on the walls. Photos that she does not have the strength to acknowledge right now.
Harry closes the door behind them both and drops the key on the desk. “I’ve been coming in here every day. Just to keep on top of things until you were ready to take over.”
His words are slightly muffled as he squeezes his head into a tight t-shirt, tugging it down his still-damp torso.
Y/N turns to him, a little overwhelmed as the tears begin to gather. “I don’t think I can do this,” she laughs tearfully.
Her arms are raised by her sides as she looks around the place. “Look at all of this. I have no idea about fighting or training. How the hell am I supposed to do this? Why did he think I could?”
There’s pity in Harry’s eyes and he purses his lips, upset for her. “Sam needed to know you’d be looked after if anything happened to him. He liked the idea of you continuing his legacy and inheriting all the riches that come with it.”
Y/N scoffs through her tears. “This is a lot, Harry. It’s not like he’s left me his hamster.”
He bites back a smile at her words. He knows if Sam could see his sister now, he’d be rolling his eyes and calling her a drama queen.
“Were you close? You and Sam?” She asks.
Harry takes a shaky breath, nodding slowly. “We were best mates. We were partners.”
Y/N’s eyes widen, eyebrows raised to her forehead in shock and Harry is quick to clock on to what she’s assuming.
“No!” He blurts. “Not like that, Jesus fucking Christ. Partners in the company, I mean.”
Y/N’s body visibly relaxes at the statement but it’s quickly replaced with confusion.
“Wait,” she holds her hand up. “If you’re a partner, why does it matter that I take over? Can’t you just have the company to yourself?”
Harry frowns. “No, Sam is the sole owner of this place. I helped him run things. I have twenty-five percent and you now own the rest. Sam left that to you. Which is why I’ll be the one showing you the ropes. Sam would arrange the illegal side of things – you know, book in the fights, set up bets and stuff. I would do the more legitimate side. Membership fees, taxes… keeping everything under the radar and looking kosher.”
She takes a seat in the chair, closing her eyes for a moment. “Okay,” she whispers, more so to herself. “So… what is this then? Disguised as a gym?”
Harry chuckles softly, planting his bum on the edge of his desk. “Basically. We’re registered as a business, a gym. We keep the fights quiet though. You only know about them if you’re invited or scouted.”
“Scouted?”
Harry nods. “Yeah, there’s a whole network of underground fighting. The Box is one of the most elite. You don’t get to fight unless you’re scouted by us, and you don’t get to watch unless you’re invited and you pay.”
It’s a lot to take in, Harry knows that. But if Y/N is going to take over half the company, she needs to know the ins and outs of everything – no matter how dark or dodgy it may be.
“We charge memberships through card, so we have something to declare and pay taxes on. As for the fights–”
“Let me guess, paid in cash; same with the bets. That’s the real money maker, you don’t have to declare cash.”
Harry nods slowly, impressed by her ability to connect the dots. Unlike most people, Harry has no issue trusting her with every secret within the company. She’s Sam’s blood. And this place was Sam’s everything. He wouldn’t dream of leaving it in untrusted hands.
“I’ll be blunt here, I am not cut out to be running anything illegal.” She admits blatantly, not even thinking of entertaining the idea.
Harry gets it, completely. “That’s fine. If you would rather handle memberships and the legitimate side of the business, I can handle the rest.”
Y/N doesn’t expect him to be so understanding. To be frank, she doesn’t know what she expected from Harry. She figured all her brother's boxer friends would be cold and calculated. Not a gorgeous, kindhearted 6ft teddy bear.
“I know this is a lot to take in all at once, but if you’re happy to, I can show you how we work around here.”
What feels like an hour, is three. And by the time Harry has explained the basics and the logistics, it’s nearly 9:30 p.m. and Y/N’s stomach is rumbling. The loudness of it has heat rising to her cheeks and Harry chuckles.
She’s grown a little more relaxed around him in the two and a half hours they’ve spent in Sam’s office. Her Converse have been kicked off and her cardigan is long gone. She’s still sitting in the chair and Harry leans his bum against the desk, just a few inches from her.
“D’you wanna order food or call it a night?” He asks.
Y/N looks up at him. She’s ashamed to admit she’s enjoying this time with Harry. It’s been a long time since she’s felt so consumed in something that she hasn’t thought about how sad her life is right now.
“Oh, sorry I’ve been here a while. You’ve probably been wanting to go home for ages,” she laughs nervously, feeling slightly embarrassed.
Harry is quick to shake his head. “No, not at all. Besides, I’ve got to stay here for the fights tonight anyway.”
“Oh, right. Yeah. Do you mind if I stay?” She asks.
Y/N supposes that she may as well cram as much into one night as she can. Even if that does include watching illegal fights in this new business she co-owns.
Harry nods, taking a sip of his bottled water. “If you feel okay, stay. I know this is a lot to take in. Don’t think you have to do everything all at once.”
She appreciates his consideration, and maybe she’s not as mentally prepared for tonight and she’s letting herself think, but that doesn’t change her mind.
Y/N can’t fight this inheritance. Harry won’t let her and she knows she’ll regret it if she walks away from Sam’s pride and joy. So she might as well suck it up the best she can.
“I can’t escape this now, Harry. If I’m going to be in this, I’ve got to be all in, right?”
Harry isn’t sure where her change of attitude has come from, but he hopes tonight doesn’t have her coiling back into that previous mindset of wanting nothing to do with the business.
So he nods at her and offers an apologetic yet appreciative smile. And looking at her, he takes a moment to admire the beauty of her. She’s nothing like Sam, not look-wise anyway.
She’s much more attractive than he was.
“So… do you want pizza or something else?” Y/N asks, tapping away on her phone to begin an order for food.
Harry purses his lips. “Oh, I can’t eat until after the fight. But order whatever you want on the company card. I’ll go up and grab it for you when it’s delivered.”
She finds it strange, but maybe Harry gets nervous for fight night. She’s not sure why else he wouldn’t eat until after watching illegal fights.
Y/N orders herself a small pizza and by the time she’s eaten, and Harry has finished explaining the systems, they’re leaving the office to find the trainers in the locker rooms.
The buzzing atmosphere has an unfamiliar wave of excitement washing over Y/N. The unknown anticipation is like electricity, sending a little shockwave through her body.
She hasn’t experienced anything like this before, and knowing nothing about how tonight may unfold, it has her on the tip of her toes. Nervous and ready for anything at the same time.
She thinks she gets what Sam used to say about the thrill he got from fighting. This feeling she’s getting just being stood in the gym before someone’s fight probably doesn’t even begin to compare to the feeling of actually fighting.
“Everyone listen up!”
Harry’s voice beckons over every single trainer. All eyes are on him and Y/N. She feels a little nervous like she’s intruding on their work.
“I’m sure many of you know, but for those who don’t… this is Sam’s sister, Y/N. She is the new partner in the company and will be just as involved in this business as Sam was. If she has any questions, you answer them. Tonight, you’re all to keep an eye out for her. We’ve got a rough bunch coming in and it’s Y/N’s first fight. Now glove up and get angry. We’re undefeated for a reason.”
As quickly as they paid attention, they were filtering out of the lockers. Y/N won’t admit it but she’s slightly in awe of the respect and power Harry has.
She would’ve never guessed he could have that effect on people. But as her life has proven, Y/N doesn’t seem to be right about anything. Ever.
As they exit the lockers, the gym is a lot fuller. At least two to three hundred people are occupying the space. Y/N’s never seen anything quite like it. It’s loud and masculine, and the eager guests put their bets in at the side of the rings.
“Niall!” Harry calls out, a blond amongst the trainers turning to the owners as he wanders over.
“Y/N, this is Niall. One of our best fighters and Sam’s protégé.”
She shakes his hand with a relaxed smile. “I remember you from his wake. Thank you for coming that day.”
Niall smiles pitifully, releasing her hand. “Your brother was a good fella. Welcome to the team, Y/N. We’re glad to have you in the family.”
She doesn’t question the family remark. She doesn’t have to. Sam had always expressed to Y/N how the boys at the gym were like his brothers. It warms her heart to speak with Niall.
“Ni, I want you to keep an eye on her for me. Just until I’m done.” Niall nods and Y/N frowns, turning to Harry.
“Where are you going?” She asks.
He grins at her, cheeky and cocky. “I'm the first fight. You gonna give me luck like you give my gran, Penny?”
Y/N can’t hide the way her eyes widen or how heat rises to her cheeks. She doesn’t know what she’s more caught off by. Harry fighting or the unexpected use of her nickname.
Wherever it is, it has fire licking at every inch of her body. And the smirk he throws her before approaching the ring only adds fuel to her ever-growing fire.
She’s got fucking whiplash. One minute she’s moping over her brother and the next she’s pressing her thighs together desperately and accepting the fact that she is now, to put it bluntly, a crime boss.
She turns to Niall with a sheepish smile and attempts to relax her shoulders. Niall seems to see right through her shaky facade and he lets out a cackle of a laugh before throwing an arm around her shoulder.
“Don’t worry, Harry is the dog's bollocks. And it’s okay to fancy him. Most girls do.”
The ruckus only gets louder, a fairly even mix of chants and boos as Harry approaches the ring and climbs in. Y/N isn’t sure why her heart begins to race. She isn’t sure why she’s instinctively toying with the pendant on her necklace. She has no idea why she’s so hooked and nervous.
Like she’s worried for him.
The introductions are a blur, both Harry and his opponent walking the ring for all to see. The referee doesn’t stand in there with them. He stands to the side, an older man with a beer belly and balding scalp, his voice rumbling through the microphone that echoes.
“This guy’s a fucking nutter.” she hears Niall say beside her, face close to her ear to raise his voice above the noise.
Y/N’s heart stammers a little faster. “He got banned for a little while. The last time he was here, he bit someone’s pinky finger off. Two years later, and we still haven’t got the blood out of the mat. Osmond has very little perception of pain. The only way to win against him is knocking him clean out, or he can fight all night.”
She tries her hardest not to let her eyes widen at his words and keeps her gaze focused on Harry and Osmond. He’s significantly larger than Harry – stockier and taller. Y/N thought they’d at least follow weight class guidelines, but now she’s beginning to worry that Harry may barely come out of there with a pulse.
When the bell sounds and the fight starts, Y/N can’t tear her eyes away. They’re both circling the ring, cautious like lions stalking their prey. Osmond is the first to move, feigning an attack by stomping his foot forward and then easing back.
The motion goes unphased by Harry, not even a flicker of a flinch. Niall giggles to himself, like he’s not at all worried about his friend. Unfortunately, Y/N doesn’t share the same confidence in Harry that Niall does. How can she? She’d never seen him fight before.
They grow closer and Harry is bouncing on his toes. Even barely knowing him. Y/N can feel the energy he’s permitting. The confidence, the excitement. She swallows a gasp when Osomond lunges for Harry but he’s quick to dodge it, forcing a fist into the side of Osmond’s face as he bounces back.
Osmond stumbles for a second, taken aback by the force of Harry’s punch – like Y/N’s not the only one to underestimate the boxer. But as soon as he finds his footing, the fight breaks loose.
Harry is quick to dodge ninety percent of Osmond’s punches, delivering a blow of his own with every other recoil. His slimmer build and smaller weight works to his advantage. Y/N watches the way Harry moves around his opponent, notices how much quicker his reflexes are than Osmond’s.
The crowd has grown significantly louder than before and yet it all becomes a bit of a blur to Y/N. She’s enamoured by him, by his every movement. The way muscles ripple with every pinch, how his skin glistens with sweat, and blood begins to drip from the bridge of his nose.
As quickly as she begins to grow aroused, she stops. Remembering that this was her brother’s life for years. Fighting like this, with little to no rules and people betting on him to win or lose.
So caught up in her head, she misses the final punch that Harry connects with Osmond’s jaw. Misses the way the larger man plummets to the ground with a thud. She doesn’t notice the straining eyes of strangers as they stare at her from across the basement, watching her every move like hawks.
She doesn’t notice, but Harry does. Because he’s looking right at her, stuck in her head. He doesn’t like it one bit; how naive she is. In another Universe, maybe he’d admire it. But not in this world – the new world she’s been thrown into. She can’t afford to be unaware of the dangers this place can carry, of the things people are capable of. It’s muffled to Y/N when the crowd begins to count down from ten, reality only really fixing her senses when that bell rings again.
And the fight is over.
//
She hasn’t been able to stop looking at him.
Harry’s been cleaned up, dressed in a t-shirt again, and counting the money he’s won from the fight. He flicks the notes from one hand to another with ease, counting far too quickly but Y/N supposes he’s used to it.
“What did you think of the fight?” he asks.
Y/N quirks a brow, wonders if there’s a hint of cockiness in his tone, but there isn’t. He’s not boasting about how good of a fight it was, he’s just asking what she thought.
“Was good. Didn’t know you could fight like that.”
Harry hums, stuffing the cash into an envelope and offering her a tight-lipped smile. “Most people don’t. I’m used to being underestimated.”
Y/N doesn’t say anything as she sits on the edge of the ring. The Box had cleared out around forty-five minutes ago, just the two of them left now and the clock is ticking ten to three.
“Think I missed the part where you knocked him out, though.”
Harry hums. “Yeah, I noticed you were a bit in your head when that happened. You need to stop doing that here moving forward.”
Y/N frowns, unsure what she should address first. The fact he was watching her during the fight, or that she needs to stop getting in her head.
“What do you mean?” she settles for.
Harry stands from the small foldable table beside the ring. “No matter how well you may ever think you know this place and these people, you don’t. It’s a bottomless pit of uncertainty and you need to have your wits about you at all times. People were watching you tonight, trying to suss you out. If anyone smells even a hint of fear or weakness on you in this place, you’re done for – whether you’re a fighter or not.”
His words hit Y/N a little harder than both anticipated but she supposes it’s what she needed to hear. Because he is right. She gets in her head far too often since Sam’s passing, and Y/N knows it’ll only end up getting her hurt or in trouble. Especially in a place like this.
So she nods her head, understanding and agreeing. And it’s not like Harry expected her to put up a fight, but he’s at least glad he didn’t make her cry with it.
“Come on, it’s late. I’ll drive you home.” He offers, but Y/N is quick to stand and shake her head, hauling her purse over her shoulder.
“It’s okay, my car’s outside.”
He looks at her for a moment, like he’s debating letting her drive alone at this time. But it’s not his business, and he’s not prepared to overstep again. He might’ve promised Sam he’d look out for her, but he’s not about to be overbearing.
“Okay. Text me when you’re home.”
She leaves shortly after, allowing Harry a few moments of peace as he finishes the last of his paperwork. A weight sits heavy on his shoulders about tonight. About how dangerous getting tied up in this place could be for Y/N.
The first day and people are already staring, gawking, surveilling. There’s that unnerving feeling in Harry’s tummy that just won’t go away. The kind of feeling he got before Sam died.
The memory stings him a little with both grief and guilt. Will there ever be a right time for him to tell Y/N how her brother really died? That it wasn’t just an unfortunate car accident. That Harry’s been watching his back and secretly hers ever since. That the associates of the people who did it were in The Box tonight?
His phone chimes from beside him, screen alight with one single text from Y/N.
I’m home x
//
Bursting through the doors of Oakdale Care, Y/N’s more than a little pissed off. Not because she’s been called into work on her only day off this week. But because the staff have waited two hours to make her aware of Mary’s fall this evening. And to top it off, they didn’t think to contact her family to notify them either.
Y/N chews into Melanie the second she comes through the door, exclaiming how unprofessional it is that they didn’t contact anyone when this happened.
Melanie remains quiet, doesn’t know what to say back to that and she knows Y/N’s right in what she’s saying. But in Melanie’s defence, she’s not running the shift.
“I can call Mary’s grandson now. I’m not running today, Lara is… I thought she would’ve called him?”
Y/N takes a breath as she stops outside of Mary’s bedsit. She knows she shouldn’t have kicked up a big fuss without knowing everything, but the fact still stands that she and Harry weren’t notified when the accident occurred two hours ago.
Shaking her head, Y/N peers into Mary’s room. She lays on her back in her bed, eyes closed but there’s a pinch between her brows, suggesting discomfort and pain from her fall.
“Don’t worry, I called Harry as soon as you called me. He’s on his way now. Has Lara given Mary any pain meds? What’s going on with paramedics?”
Melanie doesn’t say anything about Y/N calling Harry from home. Honestly, she doesn’t think anything of it. It’s not uncommon for seniors to have patients' family members' contacts on their phones. It comes in handy for situations like this.
“Oh, okay. Um, yes… Lara gave her pain relief and paramedics said they’ll be here as soon as possible – they’re understaffed and have a lot of more emergent calls.”
Y/N nods, reaching back to tie her hair up the best she can without a mirror. “Okay, did they say if they’d be taking her in?”
Melanie shakes her head. “They said they’ll assess her on scene and go from there. If they don’t think her hip is broken, they’ll get her referred for an X-ray tomorrow afternoon. If they can tell that it is, then they’ll take her in.”
Y/N nods. She’s been here long enough to know how it works, it isn’t the first time an elderly patient has had a fall. “Alright, thank you. Can you let Lara know I’m staying for the remainder of the shift, most likely tonight as well?”
“Yeah, sure. I’ll see if Lara wants you to take over the shift or whatever.”
When Melanie leaves, Y/N quietly enters Mary’s room. She sits on the chair across from the bed and exhales softly.
“For Christ's sake, Mary… you’re always up to no good.” She whispers to herself, allowing just a moment to get her mind in order so she’s calm enough to explain to Harry fully what’s going on.
The idea of seeing him under these circumstances irks her a bit. She’s only been to the club once since she was first there two weeks ago, still finding it a little overwhelming to process. And Harry had assured her that it was fine and to take her time, and if once a week is all she can handle right now, then that’s fine, too.
Y/N feels a little bad. Allowing Harry to run the club alone while she owns the majority of it. It feels a little too cheeky in the worst way and the guilt has been nipping at her for a few days now.
It doesn’t help that tonight she was supposed to be there, to run through the books and set up some form of timesheet for what days she’d come in. Now it looks like neither of them will be there this evening.
A gentle knock on Mary’s door disturbs Y/N’s inner turmoil, and she’s met with the devil himself standing in the doorway. There’s worry in his eyes, brows knitted and lips in a fine line.
“Hey,” Y/N breathes a greeting as she stands from her chair.
Harry enters the room cautiously, scared he may wake her but also scared of what Y/N may say to him. His eyes flicker between the two women for a moment and Y/N offers a gentle smile.
“We’re waiting for paramedics to come and assess her. She’s been given medication for the pain. I’m so sorry you weren't contacted sooner. I called as soon as I found out.”
Harry waves off her apology, knowing it isn’t Y/N’s fault. He takes the seat beside hers as they sit together. Harry’s fingers are intertwined across his chest as he sits back and regards his grandmother.
Guilt is quick to settle into his stomach. He wishes he visited her more often. When scary things like this occur, he finds himself deep in his head about what he couldn’t and should’ve done better or more. He’s not silly, he knows his gran is getting old, but growing up, Harry always viewed her as immortal — isn’t that how everyone sees their grandparents? As ever-lasting beings who will always just be there?
“Do you want me to give you some space?”
Y/N notices his dazed eyes slowly blink her way. He’s not completely with it, may that be through fear, stress or something entirely else.
Harry shakes his head. “No, you’re fine. Feels a bit reassuring having you in here, if I’m honest.” There’s a hesitant (dare she say, shy) smile on his lips as he speaks.
Y/N would like to say his words mean something deeper but in reality, she gets it. Family tend to prefer having a member of staff present after something like this — just in case something happens, there’s already someone there.
She bites down her confused disappointment and a few moments of silence settle around them.
Y/N picks at her nails while Harry chews at the inside of his cheek; his eyes focused on the clock on the wall beside him. It’s nearing eight in the evening and the home is relatively quiet. There will be a staff swap shortly for the night shift but even then, there won’t be much more noise.
“Why’s the car park always so busy recently?” Harry asks mindlessly, but the question bewilders Y/N for a second.
“What do you mean?” She blinks.
Harry shrugs his shoulders, shifting in his chair. “The amount of cars parked out the front compared to the amount of staff in right now doesn’t match up.”
It’s Y/N’s turn to shrug her shoulders. “It’s a busy area. A lot of people tend to use the car park if they live nearby and can’t find a space. Plus it’s free.”
A quiet hum sounds from Harry’s throat and Y/N finds herself wondering if he’s satisfied with her answer or not. Then she finds herself confused again as to why she cares.
“I told Melanie I’d stay for a few hours, or at least until we know what’s going on with the paramedics. So, I most probably won’t be at the gym later tonight. Sorry.”
Harry shakes his head. “No, don’t be silly. It’s fine. I’ll stay, too. Niall can oversee the gym, it’s just a few lads putting in extra training tonight, there’s no fights anyway.”
Y/N’s about to reply when a gentle knocking on Mary’s door stops her. Melanie pops her head through, an apologetic smile on her face as she greets Harry with a polite wave.
“Y/N, is there any chance you can do bedtime meds round? Lana’s speaking with the Head of Care about the fall.”
She looks to Harry, who nods with a small smile before she leaves the room with Melanie. He’s left with silence and his grandmother's soft snores as she sleeps. His heart races a little with worry of what could’ve happened. If she’d hit her head or if a member of staff wasn’t in the room when it happened.
It takes a lot of force to shake those thoughts from his head. The what-ifs. He tries to find something else to focus his attention on, but Mary doesn’t have much in her room.
She’s always been a very simplistic person, never been one for clutter and unnecessary decorations. She has a clock on one wall and the cross of Christ on another beside a photo of her late mother.
Digging through the pockets of his slacks, Harry retrieves his phone and shoots Niall a quick text.
Harry: Can’t make it in tonight, family emergency. You okay to oversee the training?
A few moments pass before the little bubble appears at the bottom of his screen, which is quickly replaced with Niall’s reply.
Niall: No prob, hope alls ok. Is Y/N in?
Harry: No.
Shutting his phone off, he stuffs it back into his pocket. He sits in silence for a few moments, foot tapping against the carpeted floor until he hears a little movement from out in the hall.
Harry cranes his neck from where he sits in his chair, peering through the crack. Y/N pushes the medication trolley through the hallway, stopping outside of Mary’s door as she enters the room opposite.
“Evening, Malcolm. I’ve got your medication, mate. Do you want juice or water with it?”
He smiles at the softness of her voice, of how calm and collected she seems. He listens in as Malcolm attempts to refuse them, fights back a laugh as Y/N persuades him to take it because if you don’t, you know your hair will start to fall out again and you told me Alice doesn’t like bald men.
He takes the medication and she leaves shortly after, moving onto the next room that Harry can’t hear from.
It’s roughly twenty minutes later when she’s returning to Mary’s room and offering Harry an apologetic smile. She’s got two mugs of tea in her hands as she passes one to Harry and sits in the chair beside him.
“I find it really admirable, what you do.” He tells her softly.
Y/N frowns a little, slightly embarrassed by the compliment but she shrugs it off. “I treat them how I’d want someone to treat my grandparents. Really, they’re all like extra Nan’s and Grandad’s to me.”
He smiles at her, believing what she says. Mary has always boasted about how amazing her Penny is. Harry knows she loves her job and the people she cares for. It makes his heart feel full.
“Have you always wanted to work in care?”
Y/N pulls a face as she thinks, a look that suggests no, not really.
“I actually wanted to be an air hostess,” she laughs to herself, like her dream job is completely irrational and totally out of reach.
Harry must admit that it does make his eyebrows raise. He doesn’t think he’s ever met someone who shares an interest in something like that.
“But my grandma passed away in a care home a few years ago. She was unwell, we thought she might’ve had a heart attack or a stroke or something in her sleep. The coroner concluded it was a heartache but it stemmed from a build-up of neglect. The nurses weren’t giving her the medication she needed and things like that. Sam ended up beating the shit out of the manager and he sued them. At my grandma’s funeral, I vowed to her I wouldn’t let that happen to anyone else’s grandparent again.”
Harry blinks at her, lips parted. He’s stunned, to say the least, and his heart feels heavy from her words. He can’t begin to imagine the anger and heartache she must’ve felt. Harry supposes that’s why she got so uptight about Mary’s fall.
“Jesus. Penny, I’m so sorry.”
His apology is genuine, she knows that. But she waves her hand to dismiss the condolence. It’s not something she likes to talk about. And she’s not entirely sure why she feels so comfortable sharing that with Harry.
“What about you?” She takes a sip of her tea. “Have you always wanted to be a boxer?”
Harry puffs out the air in his cheeks and shifts in his chair. “For the longest time, I didn’t know what I wanted to do with my life. I was a bit of a problem child as a kid, so my mum got me into boxing to help me learn respect and discipline. Didn’t think I’d love it as much as I did.”
Y/N listens intently to his words, watches the way his lips move with every syllable. She comes to the realisation that she could sit and listen to him speak for hours.
“After school, I started Uni… studying law.”
The irony in his voice has them both laughing quietly and Y/N has to purse her lips shut to not wake Mary. She can’t imagine Harry wearing a suit and tie all day every day. Though she does remember how handsome he looked at Sam’s funeral.
“I was on a night out with some friends one night down the pub, and this bloke was just on one. We got into a fight outside and right after, Sam came up to me. Told me he was impressed and invited me to come and train at the gym.”
It’s funny, really. How in both of their stories, Sam plays such a crucial part. Sometimes Harry does wonder if he would’ve followed through with law school if Sam hadn’t scouted him. Though as much as he tries to imagine it, he can’t see his life for anything other than what it already is.
“Around the time Gran got unwell, Sam had offered me fights at the club. I knew she’d need private care and fighting would be the only way to afford it. My mum was out of work with knee surgery around the same time, so it was all falling on me. I did what I had to do. I dropped out of Uni and never looked back.”
It’s bittersweet, how his path was paved for him. Harry had to step up and support his family, and whatever plans he had before that had to be pushed aside and forgotten. Y/N finds it quite noble if she’s honest. But there’s sadness and pity in her gut.
“Where’s your mum now?” She asks.
Harry takes a sip of his drink.
“She works for a big publishing firm in the city. She travels a lot, I think she’s in New York at the moment.”
“Oh, wow.” Y/N’s eyes widen slightly.
Harry nods his head. “Yeah, she’s a big shot.” He laughs. “My mum sacrificed a lot for me and Gran, I’m trying my best to give it back. She doesn’t know that I pay for all of Gran’s care. She thinks it’s covered by her disability.”
Her heart hurts but it swells at the same time. Behind that rough and mean exterior, Harry seems to be one of the most gentle and genuine people Y/N has ever met. She just wants to give him a hug.
“I don’t mean to be nosy, so tell me if I’m overstepping. But as Mary’s keyworker, I handle all invoices and health care… and I know you make a lot of money from the fights. Why do you keep her here when you could afford something more lavish?”
She hopes it doesn’t come off the wrong way — she already thinks it’s incredible what he’s doing for his family. But she can’t help but wonder.
“Honestly?” He asks, and Y/N nods. “Because of you. She loves living here and she loves you. Whenever I visit, it’s always Penny this, and Penny that. You’ve got no idea how at peace I feel with her living her, because of how incredible you are with her.”
Y/N’s not sure when the tears began to well in her eyes but when they begin to fall down her cheek, Harry is quick to wipe them away softly with the pad of his thumb.
They’re both aware of how intimate his little act was, so he’s quick to sit back in his chair and clear his throat.
“As for the money, I save most of it for my future children and stuff. I don’t want to do this forever, but now Sam’s gone… I don’t think I’ll ever be able to walk away from it. It’s all I’ve got left of him.”
Everything he says is loaded to Y/N. Future children, her late brother. She’s not sure if she pegged Harry for the type to want children, but she constantly has to remind herself that she doesn’t know him, and every time they speak she learns something new.
The mention of Sam makes her heart hurt. And in the past two weeks, she’s begun to adopt the same mindset that Harry already has. Now she’s part of it, she doesn’t think she could let the club go. Much like Harry, it’s one of the only things she has left of Sam, too.
They sit like that for another hour or so, just talking and learning more about each other. Harry shares stories about Mary, and Y/N listens intently to the mirage of the older woman’s life.
Y/N is about to ask another question when their little story time is interrupted by two male paramedics knocking on the door of Mary’s room.
Y/N’s the first to stand, offering a polite smile as she shakes both of their hands. “Hi, I’m Y/N, Mary’s keyworker. This is Harry,” she gestures to him, “Mary’s grandson.”
The two paramedics introduce themselves as Darren and Olli as they lug their equipment into the room with them. Harry sits back to allow them their space as they wake Mary from her light slumber.
He watches as Y/N softly explains what’s happening and that she needs to be checked over by the nice paramedics. They’re all thankful that Mary doesn’t kick up a fuss about it, and allows Darren and Olli to gently examine her hips.
“Been a while since a strapping young bloke has had his hands all over my hips… let alone two of ya.”
Harry closes his eyes in embarrassment as Y/N stifles her laugh. No matter how long she’s been caring for Mary, she never fails to give Y/N the giggles. And it doesn’t help when she mumbles something along the lines of ‘I should fall over more often’, under her breath.
Olli gently pushes pressure on her left hip. “Is that giving you any discomfort, Mary?”
She shakes her head. “Oh, absolutely not, petal. You can keep doing that.”
“Gran!”
It’s Olli’s turn to stifle his amusement as he removes his hands from her hips and takes off his gloves. He turns to Harry and Y/N while Darren helps Mary to lay back and pulls her top back over her stomach.
“From what I can feel, it’s not broken. She may be a bit achy for a couple of days, so keep on top of painkillers but she’ll be fine.”
An audible gasp can be heard in the room from both Y/N and Harry as Mary gets comfortable in her bed again. Too pent up with both worry and relief, neither of them notice the way Mary looks at them, how her eyes are knowing and clueless at the same time.
It’s another twenty minutes or so before the paramedics leave to speak with the manager. Harry is quick to sit beside Mary, holding her hand and chastising her about how much she scared everyone.
Mary is even quicker to roll her eyes and smack the back of Harry’s hand lightly. “Oh, behave, Harry. I’m fine. The yummy paramedics even said so.”
Y/N can’t help but laugh at the way Harry’s face screws up at her words, quickly tugging his hand from her hold to cover his face with a groan.
“Harry’s right. You gave us all a scare.”
Mary looks at her with gentle eyes and huffs. “I’m okay, honestly. And I heard what you said earlier. As much as I love you both, I don’t need a babysitter. Both of you can shoo off and let me sleep. Come back tomorrow.”
Harry’s about to put up a fight about it, but Mary shakes her head. “No, I mean it. Go on, both of you. Piss off.”
Neither of them are shocked by her pottymouth. If anything, they’re thankful that’s all she had to say. They both know how venomous Mary’s words can be when she’s pissed off.
They say goodbye to her shortly after, traipsing back through the hall until they reach reception. Y/N leans over the desk and scribbles a note on a post-it, sticking it to the laptop to notify the staff that she’s left.
The brisk air of the late-night envelopes them harshly as they leave through the front door, barely given enough time to brace themselves for the frosty impact.
Y/N’s eyes scan the car park for her car, absentmindedly searching for Harry’s, too. “I’m over there,” she points to her car. “Did you drive here?”
The question makes Harry’s eyes widen and shoulders slump. “My car was playing up so I took it to the garage down the street. It’s still in there.”
Neither of them need to glance at their watches to know the garage won’t be open at nearly midnight. Y/N frowns but shrugs her shoulders.
“S’okay. Where do you live? I can drop you off.”
The offer warms his heart but not enough to give him hope. “Don’t worry about it, I’m like forty minutes away… I wouldn’t expect you to drive there and back before you even get home.”
The thought sounds a bit grim to her but she’s not about to leave him on the street to have to walk or pay an extortionate amount (which she’s sure he can afford) on an Uber.
“Well, you can just crash at mine then. I have work tomorrow afternoon, so I can bring you back and you can grab your car then?”
It stuns them both for a moment, her words. Y/N’s shocked she actually offered what was on her mind and Harry’s a little bewildered at how willing she is to have him, somewhat of a stranger, in her home.
He tilts his head slightly with gently pinched brows. “Are you sure?” Ever the gentleman.
She nods, like she’s trying to convince herself as well. “Honestly, I don’t mind. And it’s not like you’re a complete stranger.”
He laughs at that, he laughs hard. Maybe it’s the tiredness or maybe it’s the relief that Gran’s okay. Either way, he knows what she said wasn’t that funny.
She leads the way to her car and the drive back to her flat is quiet. Harry sings along softly to the radio, taking note of his surroundings.
There’s a cherry-scented freshener that hangs from the rearview mirror, a pair of running trainers sitting on one of the backseats and a small knitted blanket folded nearly just by his feet in the passenger footwell.
Harry thinks she’s the type of girl to have an emergency supply kit in her boot as well.
She does.
When they arrive at her apartment building, Harry follows her through the halls. She’s a little nervous, the closer they’re getting to her home. She panics as she struggles to remember if she left it a mess or still has clean clothes and underwear lying about anywhere.
As soon as she opens the door, she lets herself relax. No wild underwear to be seen, thank god.
Harry closes the door behind him and looks around. It’s nice, cosy. The walls are decorated with funky artwork and all of her furniture is slightly mismatched but it pulls together well.
He’s not sure what he expected, maybe something a bit more simplistic and minimalist. This is anything but — it feels a little intimate, like he’s seeing a deeper side to her. He can tell her flat reflects her personality.
“Cool artwork.”
She smiles sheepishly, hoping Harry can’t tell how nervous she is to have him in her home. He can. But he doesn’t say anything on the matter.
“Are you okay on the sofa?”
“Yeah, honestly I’m just thankful you’re letting me stay.”
Y/N smiles kindly at him. “Of course. There are blankets in the basket by the TV. Help yourself to anything you want in the kitchen. And the bathroom is just to the left of the dining table.”
It’s a little awkward for a moment. They’re not friendly enough for this to be normal, and Harry starts to feel that nervous tension too.
She says goodnight first, sauntering off to her bedroom and closing the door behind her. It takes a moment for Y/N to calm down a little. It’s been a while since an attractive man has been in her home, and she has to remind herself that previous men have been complete strangers for a hookup once in a blue moon.
Harry’s is not a hookup (unfortunately), and he is not a stranger. She repeats it in her head as she gets into her pyjamas and crawls into bed.
At least Y/N understands why she feels so anxious. Because Harry can’t put his finger on why he does. Too in his head about being in her home and it feeling so fucking intimate.
She doesn’t sleep all night.
Neither does Harry.
//
It’s been a week since Harry crashed on Y/N’s sofa and she hasn’t been able to look at it the same ever since. It’s been a bit of a struggle to try and wrap her head around these feelings she’s begun to harbour for Harry – she can’t get him out of her head.
They’ve spoken a couple of times here and there. Mostly him checking in about Gran or a tiny bit of flirtatious banter when she’s visited The Box a couple of evenings. Nothing at all to warrant how she feels at the moment.
Perhaps that’s why she’s so confused and conflicted.
And it doesn’t help that the second her mother called, the first thing she asked was if Y/N was dating or not yet.
“No mum.”
She hears the audible sigh from down the line and pinches her eyes shut to gain some form of self-control. Not today, Y/N – don’t snap at her today.
“Well, there’s a small amount of time left for you, I suppose. Anyway, have you seen your brother today?”
“Yes, I’m with him now Mum. I see you’ve already been down… the flowers look beautiful.”
She doesn’t reply to her daughter, not about Sam’s grave anyway. Instead, she changes the subject to something a little lighter. Y/N supposes it’s still hard for her, to talk about her deceased son. The one child she actually adored.
“Your father wanted me to ask if you’d like to come away with us this weekend?”
Y/N’s brows pinch at the proposition. A holiday with just her parents sounds like a living Hell if she’s entirely honest. And she’s more than a little shocked to even have received an invite. She reckons her Dad probably had something to do with that.
“Where are you going?” She asks.
Layla sighs, and Y/N imagines her scrutinising the new manicure she gets every Thursday. “Bora Bora,” she says with little to no enthusiasm.
Y/N stares at Sam’s headstone with a tired gaze in her eyes. “Only for three weeks, we need the break, to be honest. Are you coming or not?”
Only three weeks? Y/N finds herself biting down hard on her tongue. She’ll never understand how people with money can be so out of touch with the world sometimes. She scoffs, shaking her head to herself.
“Thank you for the offer, but no. I don’t have that kind of money and I can’t get three weeks off of work on such short notice.”
Layla hums. “Yes, I understand. Well, I have to start packing. Oh and please don’t get any dirt on Sammy’s headstone, I just got it power-washed.”
The line goes dead and Y/N stares at her brother's grave in astonishment. “Love you, too,” she mutters sarcastically as she pulls the phone away from her ear.
“Even in the dead, you’re still the goddamn favourite.”
She crouches down to get a better look at his plot. There are at least six bunches of fresh flowers in small plant potters that dig into the dirt. All beautiful and vibrant. Y/N places the seventh bunch in an empty plastic pot and uses her water bottle to fill it.
“Happy birthday, Sammy. I miss you.”
The cemetery is quiet, save for the few robins that perch on headstones close to her. From where she stands, Y/N spots an elderly couple walking hand in hand, no doubt visiting their own loved ones together.
Sometimes, she wishes she had someone to visit Sam with. Someone other than her parents.
She stays there for a few moments, doesn’t really know what to say. It irks her a little, knowing his body lies beneath that cold ground. Y/N can feel that familiar sinking feeling of depression consume her. The guilt, the pain.
She’d give everything to have him back, if even just for a day.
“It’s not getting any easier, Sammy.”
It’s like admitting defeat – like she’s not strong enough to cope with his loss. She is, but she certainly doesn’t feel the strength she needs to get her through.
From the peripheral of her vision, Y/N spots a figure approaching. She turns her head, the silhouette now much clearer and she’s sure she recognises the slender blonde woman that edges closer with every tentative step.
The woman from the reception.
She looks just as shocked as Y/N – clearly not expecting to bump into her but she must’ve known his family would visit on his birthday.
“Sorry,” the stranger starts. “I’ll come back later.”
Y/N shakes her head and calls out to her before she can fully turn to walk away. “Wait! I remember you, from the gym.” She chooses her words carefully, unsure how much she may know about the club itself.
The blonde nods her head and takes a few steps closer, eyes fixed on Sam’s grave as tears well in her eyes. “My name’s Amira… Sam and I were seeing each other when…”
She doesn’t finish her sentence, but Y/N gets it. Her lips part and her eyes fall downcast. Sammy never mentioned he was seeing anyone – but Y/N supposes there was a lot he didn’t mention in his lifetime.
“I’m sorry,” she says, “I had no idea he was seeing anyone. He tended to keep that kind of stuff to himself.”
Amira smiles but it doesn’t reach her eyes. She continues to clutch a fresh bouquet of flowers close to her chest and doesn’t say much more. Y/N begins to feel like maybe she’s the one intruding and quickly clears her throat, fixing the strap of her purse on her shoulder.
“Listen, my parents are going away for a few weeks. So if you’d like to stop by the house at all to go through some of Sam’s stuff, let me know. My number should be on the system at the gym anyway.”
There’s a look in Amira’s eyes as she takes in Y/N’s kind consideration. Maybe it’s relief, maybe it’s something else. But Y/N figures the least she could do is allow her a deeper look into Sam’s life and let her take whatever she may need to feel closer to him.
“Thank you, Y/N. That means so much to me. I’ll let you have time with him, I can come back later.”
She smiles at Amira, a genuine one this time and shakes her head. “No, don’t be silly. I’m heading out now anyway.” She brushes past Amira, hand reaching out to gently squeeze her arm. “Please don’t be a stranger. Sam might be gone, but our memories of him aren’t.”
//
The music is a bit deafening and Y/N’s ears are struggling to adjust to it. The Box isn’t all that busy this afternoon. A few on the weights and a couple sparring to the side of boxing bags.
What does catch her attention is Harry in the ring again. He’s not topless this time, instead wearing a simple red t-shirt and a pair of black gym shorts. His stance is firm as he holds his hands up (under those thick boxing pads) and allows Ricky to throw punches in timely combos.
Niall is the first to notice Y/N’s presence, and he’s soon by her side with a lopsided smile and ruffled hair. They share a bit of light chit-chat, nothing too deep or personal. Niall doesn’t want to tread in shallow water, not today.
And she’s far too focused on the way Harry’s biceps flex to focus on anything more than absentminded conversation. She’s not sure what’s gotten into her but she can’t get this man out of her head.
It’s been a long time since she’s had a crush, almost too long to remember what it even feels like. But the more she looks at him – admires him – she’s back to feeling those wanton butterflies and clammy hands.
Clearing her throat, she finally tears her gaze from the boxer and looks up at Niall. “I’ve got some invoices and stuff that I need to catch up on. Can you let Harry know I’m in the office when he’s done?”
Niall nods and just as quickly as their conversation starts, it ends.
Sitting in the office, she finds that there isn’t actually all that much to do. From what she can see, Harry has already made a start on this weeks memberships and was halfway through processing them on the system.
That tinge of guilt begins to nip at her gut again. She needs to talk to Harry about it, really. It’s not fair for him to do the majority of the work and only own a quarter of the company. She either needs to up her game or convince him to take another twenty-five percent.
But if Y/N has learnt anything about Harry by now, it’s that he will not take any more of this godforsaken company. So she finds herself making a mental note to put in more than just three evenings a week at this place.
She’s a few minutes into finishing the last of the memberships when Harry knocks on the door and enters. He’s hot and sweaty and his dishevelled hair only makes him look even more attractive than usual.
Lord have fucking mercy, she can’t handle this.
“Hey,” he greets her in a gruff voice.
She has to swallow down the lump in her throat before she can reply (a little too squeaky for her liking, and she’s wondering what the fuck is wrong with her).
“Have you seen Sammy today yet?”
Y/N nods with a sigh. “Yeah, just got back from there actually. Have you?”
Harry hums. “Yeah, I saw him this morning.”
He’s hunched over now, ruffling through his gym bag for his water bottle when he stands straight again and takes a sip of his drink.
“You’re probably spending the evening with your family, but a bunch of us are gonna go down to the pub for a few drinks for Sammy’s birthday. You’re more than welcome to join at some point if you’d like.”
The offer warms her heart to no end. It’s nice to hear how much people loved and respected him. Enough to celebrate his birthday even when he’s no longer here.
She also thinks it’s cute that he thinks she’ll be with her family. As if anything about her and her parents' relationship is healthy.
“I’ll be there,” she says a little too quickly. “My parents are busy packing for their spontaneous trip to Bora Bora. And my mother is insufferable so that’s just a big fat no to family time.”
Harry raises his eyebrows, a small quirk of a smile on his lips. Her words are nothing new to him. Despite being the favourite, Sam always had his moments to moan about their parents, too. Used to say the same thing about their mother being insufferable.
“You’re not going with them?”
“No!” She laughs and the sound makes Harry smile. “I can’t afford a spontaneous three-week vacation and I can’t get the time off work so short notice either.”
She watches Harry open the middle drawer of the silver filing cabinet and pull out an overly stuffed envelope. He hands it to her, brows raised expectantly for her to take it.
It’s heavy, and her name is written in his scribbled handwriting and she finds herself looking at it for a second too long.
“It’s your month's wages.”
She peers inside, eyes wide. Y/N looks back at him. “How much is this?”
“Ten grand.”
Her eyes widen even more. “I’m sorry…” she blinks, “Ten fucking grand? For a month?”
Harry shrugs, finally deciding to take a seat opposite her. “That’s what Sam used to pay himself monthly. You own the same amount that he did.”
Y/N stares at him for a moment. She wonders if this amount of cash is normal to Harry and by the way he doesn’t bat an eyelid, she supposes it is.
“Well I’m not Sam and you’re doing more work than me,” she blubbers. “You should be getting paid more.”
She tries to shove the envelope across the table and into his hands but he won’t have any of it. Harry laughs at her, shaking his head like she’s the ridiculous one.
“I get paid enough, believe me.” He pushes the envelope back over to her and she stares at it.
Y/N has never seen that much money in cash with her name on. She’s never even had that much money at once before. The possibilities are endless as she thinks of what she could do with it.
She could join her parents in Bora Bora and fuck work off completely if she’s getting paid that every month. But she won’t.
She could also redecorate her entire flat and do out her wardrobe twice over with just that single month's wage, but she knows she won’t.
Because Y/N will probably tuck it away under her bed later tonight and be too afraid to spend a single penny of it.
And Harry notices the way she falls into her mind. She hasn’t taken her eyes off the envelope but she’s still yet to touch it again. He figures it’ll take a while for her to become a bit more accustomed to this.
He taps his fingers on the desk, gaining her attention. “Penny, it’s your money. Do whatever you see fit with it. Save it, spend it, give it away. Do what you want.”
Her eyes soften a little, appreciating his encouragement. It still feels wrong, though. To accept that amount of money for doing virtually nothing when people out there who work forty-plus hours every week and still struggle to pay their bills on time.
She hangs onto the suggestion of giving it away. Maybe she’ll donate it to charity. Not all of it — she does need her oil changed and a new tyre — but most of it.
Then a thought occurs to her and her eyebrows raise. It’s like Harry already knows what she’s going to suggest and he’s shaking his head again with a raspy laugh that Y/N feels between her legs.
“No,” he tells her. “You can’t give it away to me.”
//
If someone had warned her what tonight would look like before she left The Box, Y/N would’ve laughed in their face and called them delusional.
The night had started like she’d expected. Y/N had driven to the pub with Harry, Niall and Ricky after they were showered and changed, and met up with everyone else where they started off with two shots each in honour of Sammy.
It continued like she’d expected. The group of them were spread across two booths and two tables — Y/N being one of the only women amongst the bunch of rowdy men — and drinks went down nicely as everyone took turns to reminisce on their favourite memories of her late brother.
But somewhere down the line of shots, jugs and a drinking game where you had to drink every time Ricky said ‘aye aye captain’ (which she learnt was his catchphrase), Harry had grown increasingly closer to Y/N.
And now, the two of them have somehow moved deeper into the booth. Harry sits right in the corner with Y/N tucked into his side. About twenty minutes ago, his arm had found its way across her shoulder and has been comfortably resting there ever since.
His fingers gently stroke the exposed skin of the middle of her bicep and she’s so close to him that half of her back is pressed against his chest.
They’ve both had a fair amount to drink, but Harry seems significantly more sober than she does. Maybe it’s because she’s the one feeling a little hot about their close proximity.
And it’s not that she minds it, because she absolutely fucking doesn’t. She’s revelling in it, if she’s completely honest. But she’s shocked and confused as to where this touchy side of Harry has come from and why.
And just when she thinks they couldn’t get any closer, Harry’s leaning his head just enough so his lips ghost her ear as he whispers something jokingly about whatever it is that Niall has said.
She can’t fucking focus. Out of nowhere this man has come into her life and flipped it 180. And in just a month of knowing one another, she's down bad and ready to say yes to anything he could ever want.
Y/N has to force a breathy laugh to whatever he’s just whispered. She can’t think straight, unable to hear a thing when all she can think about is the way his lips feel against the shell of her ear.
And Harry’s noticed.
After her third drink, he noticed how she looked at him a little longer than usual. At first, he thought nothing of it, then she did it again and again and her eyes grew shy whenever he looked at her.
It made his stomach flip. She’s attractive, incredibly so. And Harry’s no blind man. Even before Sam had passed, he knew what she looked like and he found her quite fit.
But this odd friendship they have, where he’s gotten to know her and came to the realisation that she’s the one to care for his Gran… it’s blown that initial attraction tenfold.
So maybe he did play up to it a little bit. Maybe he threw his arm around her shoulder to test the waters, to see if she’d pull away or ask him not to.
But she didn’t pull away and she didn’t say a word. So Harry finally let himself consider the fact that she may find him just as attractive as he finds her.
“Y’look really pretty, by the way.”
Oof. Way to fucking play it cool, Harry.
Her head snaps up in his direction and the mumbled tone of his voice. She heard him. Loud and clear. And she’s blinking up at him like he holds the stars in the sky.
“What?” she breathes.
Harry gulps, visibly. “I said you look really pretty today.”
She thought she heard him right. But it doesn’t hurt to hear it for a second time. Y/N’s skin grows warm as she looks at him, and his eyes are lingering on her lips.
Her heart skips a beat or two, breathing lodged in her throat. The way he looks at her has her stone-cold sober, no longer feeling the effects of alcohol. Instead, she feels the heat that radiates from Harry’s and the palpable tension between them.
He can’t seem to tear his eyes away from her mouth — the way her plump lips part and her eyes drop down to his. The thought of kissing her is at the front of his mind, but before he can decide if he’ll act on impulse or not, a glass shatters on the other table and the moment is gone.
Niall’s drunkenly mopping up a spilt beer with paper towels and an empty crisp packet, and Y/N is no longer tucked into his hold. She’s leaning forward to take a look at the damage and Harry’s left feeling a little disappointed.
He shifts in the booth, sitting upright and clearing his throat as he recomposes himself. Niall’s little accident has drawn a fair amount of attention toward the group, and when Harry eyes the other patrons of the pub, his heart sinks to his stomach at one possee in particular.
They’re already looking at him. At her. It takes every ounce of self-control to not approach and beat the shit out of them. Who the fuck do they think they are?
Showing up here, on Sammy’s birthday after what they did to him. Harry’s hands are balled into fists at his sides, chest heaving as he tries to calm himself down. His knee begins to bounce, the anger getting the better of him.
Ryce, George and Scott — the three men who drove Sam off the road and ended his life. They remain staring, vile smirks tugging at the corners of their lips.
Harry’s consistent knee jitters finally catches Y/N’s attention and when she looks at him, she’s alarmed by his sudden change in composure. She can read that look on any man’s face. He’s got itchy knuckles.
“Harry,” she says softly, palm resting on his thigh.
He forces himself to tear his gaze away from the men and look down at her. Her brows are pinched, confusion evident in her voice. Harry plasters a fake, unbelieving smile on his face.
“Nothing,” he says tightly.
His gaze averts to his pint on the table and Y/N takes the opportunity to follow his previous line of sight. The three men are still looking over, all a little jagged on the edges. Their presence doesn’t sit well with Y/N.
Perhaps that’s because of how she’s seen Harry react to them, or maybe it’s just the uncomfortable stares and creepy vibe they exude.
Either way, it has her shuffling back into the booth and closer to Harry again.
It’s a little while later and a few drinks more when Y/N tells Harry she’s going to go home. He’s been on edge the past forty-five minutes and while Y/N was quick to forget the trio of strangers, Harry wasn’t.
He watched them for the final thirty minutes of their stay before he finally began to calm down a little. Harry’s still on edge and Y/N can tell, maybe that’s why she asks if he’ll walk her to her car.
He looks at her, brows pinched. “I’m not letting you behind a wheel, Penny. You’ve been drinking. I’ll drive you home.”
She tilts her head, that nickname awakening butterflies in her stomach. “You’ve been drinking, too,” she points out.
Harry smiles toothily. “But I can handle my drink and I’m sobered up anyway. Come on, I’ll take you home.”
Y/N doesn’t argue with that. She lets him grab her purse and guide her out of the booth, follows him through the group as they both say their goodbyes.
When they get outside and reach Y/N’s car, Harry opens the passenger door for her as she hands him his keys. It takes him a moment to get comfortable in her seat, familiarising himself with her model before he starts the engine and pulls out of the parking space.
The drive to her flat is quiet, a little bit of chit-chat here and there. She feels hot, watching him drive around in her car with ease. There’s something about it — the way his arms flex as he grips the wheel, how his tongue peeks out the corner of his mouth whenever he takes a tight turn.
She hates to admit that he drives better than her.
By the time they arrive back at her apartment building, Y/N’s feeling a lot more sober than when they first left the pub. She’s greeted with a hefty wave of arousal, however, when Harry reverses into her parking space with his arm on the back of her headrest.
It’s a struggle to walk up to her flat with her thighs clenched tightly together, but she makes it work and Harry doesn’t seem to notice. He walks her straight to her door, hands her the keys and watches as she unlocks it.
For some reason, Harry feels a little underwhelmed. He didn’t want the night to end so abruptly. He wanted to stay with her a little longer, maybe even get a little closer.
So when she turns around with a shy smile and presses onto her tiptoes to plant a kiss to his check, he’s a little taken aback.
It’s gentle, how her lips meet his skin, but she doesn’t cower back down after. Her face is still close, her lips just barely ghosting his as she slowly starts to pull away. Y/N’s eyes flicker up to meet Harry’s to find them already staring down at her.
She’s not sure if it’s the final effects of the alcohol or something else that possesses her to press her lips against his, but she lets the intrusive thoughts win. She kisses him and he kisses her back just as softly.
Her heart is racing, mind blank and she can’t think about anything other than the way his soft lips feel on hers and how his hands reach for her hips to hold her in place.
Harry’s the one that pulls away first, just enough for the tips of their noses to brush and he’s staring down at Y/N with blown pupils.
She swallows thickly, suddenly doubting the signs he suggested earlier this evening.
“I’m sorry,” she quickly says.
Harry shakes his head, his hold on her hips tightening. “Don’t be.”
His lips are back on hers, messier and needier than before. Y/N’s hands are quick to reach for his head — fingers tangling into his unruly hair.
Harry swipes his tongue across her bottom lip, parting her mouth until they taste one another. Amid the kiss, he guides her into the flat, kicking the door shut behind them with his foot.
Y/N’s hand leaves his hair and trails down his body in desperate search of something she can tug at. His find the backs of her thighs and with ease, lifts her in his hold. Legs wrapped around his waist, her arms circle his neck as he guides their bodies to the sofa, crawling on top of Y/N.
Harry kisses down her neck, nipping at the taut skin as she arches her back and her chest presses into his.
“Are you sure?” he mumbles against her collarbone.
Y/N nods, not an ounce of doubt in her mind. His fingers find the hem of her t-shirt and he rolls it up her body, tugging it off her arms and over her head.
She’s bare beneath it; with supple breasts and pearled nipples. Harry doesn’t think twice before leaning down and taking one into his mouth, swirling his tongue across the hardened nub.
Y/N’s back arches, chest pushing into his face as her fingertips continue to scratch at his scalp. Harry swirls his tongue around her, teeth biting down and a sharp gasp leaves her lips.
Trailing kisses up her clavicle, Harry meets her lips again, open mouths and hot tongues. He steadies his weight above her, slotted between her parted thighs.
“D’you have a condom?” he mutters into the kiss.
Y/N hums, sitting up as she chases his lips. “In the bedroom.”
He wraps her legs around his waist and lifts them both from the sofa, lips attached once again as he guides them to what he remembers to be her bedroom.
He’s allowed no time to take a look at her room, not that he’s interested anyway. Harry lays her flat in the middle of the bed, crawling on top to situate himself between her thighs again.
It’s dark, traces of moonlight barely seeping through the slits of her bedroom curtains. It offers an angelic hue over her soft body, a sight that Harry never wants to forget.
Her fingers tug at the hem of his t-shirt, swooping underneath to feel the warm, toned skin of his abdomen. Harry leans back on his knees just enough to allow him space to remove his top, flinging it somewhere across the darkened room.
Y/N admires him for a moment, swallowing thickly. His pupils are blown, lips swollen and pink. She watches the way Harry’s chest rises and falls with each breath, takes a second to gawk at the divots of his abs and the dark tattoos that ink his golden skin.
She expects him to crawl back over her body, to kiss her like his life depends on it. But he doesn’t. Instead, his fingers loop into the waistband of her flared leggings and he slowly pulls them down the length of legs.
It leaves her almost bare, wearing just a simple black thong but the sight of it has Harry’s cock twitching in his pants. His gaze roams up her body until he finds her eyes, blown and hooded. He doesn’t break that contact as he stands from the bed and unbuckles his belt. He continues to stare into her soul as he tugs them down his toned thighs and kicks them off to the side.
Y/N’s breath hitches in her throat in anticipation of the big reveal. But he doesn’t offer it. He climbs back onto the bed, heavy palms hot on her inner thighs as he spreads her legs apart for him.
She breaks eye contact first, eyes fluttering closed when Harry slowly inches his face closer to her clothed cunt. She feels his hot breath fan over her lower tummy, feels him nip at the skin by her hip before his fingers loop into the top of her panties and he drags them down to her ankles.
She’s bare before him, core soaked and puffy from arousal. Harry doesn’t think he’s ever seen anything so fucking sexy and delicious in his entire life, and it takes all self-restraint to not bury his face between her thighs for the foreseeable future.
He doesn’t know what she wants or what she likes, so to play it safely, Harry peppers kisses from her ankles to her tummy and noses at the underside of her breasts. Their lips meet soon after, Y/N’s fingers tangling in his hair.
She blindly reaches for her bedside table, fingers nimbly searching for a foil packet. Her mind feels dizzy – hazy – at the feeling of Harry’s mouth on hers. She’s seeping down onto the mattress, her arousal too much all at once as his body rests between her legs; his cock nudging against her inner thigh beneath the fabric of his boxers.
Harry reaches a hand down between their bodies, can practically feel the heat from her hot cunt as his fingers hover over her slit. He gently pushes his middle finger through her folds, his skin immediately immersed in wetness as he does so.
Y/N gasps softly into his mouth, hips involuntarily bucking against his hand. “Please,” she whimpers, voice quiet.
The sound of her begging has his cock leaping, desperate to be buried inside her. Harry bites back a groan and swirls his finger around her arousal, spreading it across her cunt. He teases at her puckering hole, watches how her body responds to his touch. Like she was fucking made for him.
“You’re so wet, Penny.”
She shakes her head, breaking her lips from his. “Don’t call me that,” she laughs breathily, “Not when we’re doing this.”
Harry grins against her mouth, pulling away just enough to get a better look at her face. God, she’s fucking stunning.
With his eyes on hers, he gently pushes his finger through her cunt, cock twitching at just how tight she clamps around him.
“Okay, baby. Whatever you want.”
Her eyes roll to the back of her head, Harry’s smirk growing tenfold. He moves his wrist slowly, curling his finger against the spongy part of her g-spot as small, broken whimpers escape her lips.
He wants to kiss her, feel her plump lips on his again but the sight is too consuming. Watching her face contort in the pleasure that he’s inflicting her.
“Har, please.”
Her voice does something to him, something sinister and desperate. He coos down at her, enjoying the dynamic they seem to have a bit too much — how she submits to his touch and gives him all control.
“Be patient, baby. You’re so tight, I need to stretch you out a little for me first.”
He adds a second finger, struggles to tuck them into her cunt as he quickens the pace of his hand. She feels the burn of the intrusion but welcomes it regardless. His fingers are thick, stretching her better than hers do.
Y/N’s hips begin to roll against his palm, eagerly chasing more when he doesn’t offer it. He’s bulging in his boxers, desperate for relief with every sweet cry she mumbles out.
“Please, Har. I need you.”
He struggles to keep himself composed at how needy she sounds. Harry backs up onto his knees, continues fucking her with his fingers and uses his other hand to shimmy down his boxers.
Y/N watches with wide eyes. He’s huge – long and thick and so much fucking bigger than anything that she’s ever had before. The sight of him makes her stomach twitch in nerves, worried she won’t be able to take him.
Harry seems to notice her inner turmoil as he snatches the condom from the side of the bed and tears the foil open with his teeth. He removes his fingers from her cunt, brings them to his lips to get a taste.
She’s sweet on his tongue, and in that moment, Harry makes a promise to himself that this won’t be just a one-time thing.
“Don’t worry, baby,” he says, pinching the tip of the condom and rolling it down his thick length. “I’ll make it fit.”
She shudders when he lines himself with her dripping hole, swirling his tip around her arousal and gently nudging his way through. The burn is unlike before – much more prominent and harsh. And it doesn’t ease the further he fills her. She struggles to take him, to stretch around his cock. But Harry will fuck into her all night to get her accustomed to his size. To break her in.
Harry thinks he could explode at any minute. It’s been a long time since he’d had a cunt grip him the way hers does. And he knows full well just how good she’ll milk him dry of everything he has to offer.
He grits his teeth in an attempt to control his desire of fucking her silly. Not yet, he has to tell himself. She’s not ready for that.
“Doin’ so well, baby. So fuckin’ tight.”
Her head rolls back and his words offer a sweet relief to the initial sting. With every gentle whisper he breathes, she takes more and more of him. He’s close to nudging at her cervix, close to bottoming out.
“More,” she chokes. “Fuck me, Har. I need more.”
His movements are on the slower side to begin with – a proven struggle to pull out and back in with how tight her pussy grips him. But with every thrust of Harry’s hips, the better she stretches and the deeper he goes.
Her tits begin to bounce on her chest with every harsh movement he offers. Y/N’s hands reach for them, fingers tweaking at her hardened nipples and her hips move in circles against his own.
Harry sits back on his knees to watch as he fucks her, to admire just how good he’s making her feel. She’s breathless, brows pinched and mouth parted. He wants to touch and taste every fucking inch of her body – to bury himself so deep inside she begs him to never leave.
It’s primal, how he looks at her, thinks of her. The idea of anyone else having her like this makes him sick, angry. The thought alone has his vision blurring red and he struggles to snap out of such a dominant and protective mindset.
His. She’s all his whether she knows it or not.
“Tight little cunt, baby. Jesus Christ… fucking made for me.”
It’s filthy, the way he spits at her is the most sexy thing. How he claims her, owns her. No one could ever fuck her the way he is, no one could have her withering and begging and crying in pleasure. No one but him.
“Yes, yes,” she pants out.
All she wants is to please him, give him everything he wants and take anything he’ll offer in return. Her body starts to melt, into his touch, his words, his presence. He’s taking her somewhere she’s never been before and there’s no better feeling.
Harry’s cock rubs deliciously against her her g-spot, pinching at her cervix the deeper he gets. She’s soaked him, fully – his cock and his pubic bone. And the squelching sound her pussy makes is music to his fucking ears.
He’s struggling to see straight, eyes glossy as sweat begins to dot his hairline. If she feels this good now, he can’t imagine how warm and wet she’d feel raw – without the flimsy rubber between them. He’ll dream of it, how soft her cunt would be wrapped around his cock.
Christ, the thought has him twitching between her walls, splutters of guttural moans falling from his lips. The sounds are fuel to Y/N’s fire, her eyes snapping open to finally take a look at him.
He’s fucked out, head thrown back and bottom lip tight between his teeth. His stomach is tensed, knuckles white as he grips her hips, and it’s all because of her. She’s got him feeling like this, so fucked out and feral.
Y/N grinds her hips against him, faster now as she meets his pace. She’s sitting up on her elbows to watch where his cock nuzzles into her, watching how her arousal soaks the base of his cock and his lower tummy.
She can feel him in her stomach, how he’s almost nudging at her organs to make room for himself. She’s never felt so excited before, bare and naked – fucking under the moonlight in her pitch-black bedroom.
Maybe it’s the excitement or maybe it’s Harry’s fingers rubbing at her clit that sends her spiralling – sobbing out his name and begging for mercy. He doesn’t relent, he won’t. He wants to feel her exploding around him, wants to feel her close in on him until he’s releasing deep in her cunt, albeit in the condom.
It hits her like a fist – straight in her face. She’s coming over his cock, legs trembling and cunt convulsing as she sobs.
“Fuckkk, Daddy, please!”
Harry’s orgasm creeps up on him as his eyes widen at the name. He comes with her, fast and hard and if he wasn’t wearing a condom, he’d already be dripping out of her. Y/N’s legs continue to tremble, cunt squeezing him so tight that Harry thinks he could pass out.
He’s desperate to catch his breath, and she’s no better. Gentle whimpers continue to rake through her body as she slowly settles down from her high. Harry stares down at her, fucked out and body limp. The reality of what they’ve just done sits heavy in his stomach and he worries she’ll ask him to leave, that she regrets it.
But she doesn’t. Instead, Y/N whimpers his name as he slowly pulls out and reaches her hands down for him. He coos her, taps her thigh gently before tugging off the condom and tying it up.
She lies there, alone as Harry leaves the room. Worry is quick to consume her, the anxiety that he’s about to leave without another word. But he doesn’t. He returns to her bedroom with a damp cloth and his boxers back on his lower half.
He’s gentle as he wipes her down, helps settle her tired and aching body beneath a blanket and she doesn’t want to be the type that cries after sex, but no one has ever given her this kind of aftercare before. It all feels a little too domestic.
Not to Harry. Not really, anyway – he’s not the type to fuck and leave, not usually. It doesn’t feel foreign to help her get clean or tuck her in, and he only surprises her further when he lays beside her under the blanket, too.
“You’re staying?” she peeps out.
Harry hums, face close to hers. “If you want me to.” Her eyes are heavy as she covers her mouth to stifle a yawn.
“At least wait until I’m asleep before you sneak out.”
So, he does.
//
Thank you for sticking it out lol, part two will be posted next week, so let me know if you want to be added to my general tag list to be notified <3
Feedback is always welcomed and appreciated!!
Tags: @kissfromadove @stilesissaved @kiwitsayedsugar @savannahwendel @triski73 @stylesfever
#harry styles#harry styles imagine#harry styles smut#imagine harry styles#harry styles x reader#harry styles x you#harry styles fluff#harry styles angst#harry styles fic#harry styles oneshot#the box#boxerry
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BAHAH pls i need a fic where ellie’s cockblocking gets to the point where aaron is desperately asking auntie penelope or jj to babysit her and jack for a night.. he would even entrust spencer for a few hours if nobody else was available just for some alone time😫🤭
on hiatus
this concept is so funny i love it cw; mentions of sex (nothing explicit), brief suggestive content, bau teasing aaron, reader referred to as mom, dad!aaron wc; 1k
"Can't you ask?"
"Well, I could." Aaron's gaze shot to the side, through the blinds and down into the bullpen.
"It wouldn't hurt, right? Because I don't know about you, but I can't wait another night." You exhaled, a slight buzzing effect coming through the phone as a result.
"I'm right there with you." Aaron admitted, resisting the urge to squirm in his seat. "I'm seconds away from reinstalling that damn crib."
"So ask. Anyways, I gotta go. Jack will be home soon, and I should get Ellie up so she does sleep tonight."
Aaron chuckled softly, his eyes finding the family photo framed on his desk. "Why does it not surprise me that for nap time, she'll stay in her bed."
"Stubborn. Just like her father."
After saying goodbye to you, Aaron exited his office, heading to where JJ, Penelope and Derek were all congregating. Their eyes rose as he approached.
"What brings you down here?" JJ asked, using her feet to twist her chair back and forth. "We're not dawdling, I swear."
He brushed past her playful - and untrue - comment. "Need a favor."
Brief distress flashed on Derek's face. "If it requires more paperwork, just give it to Reid."
Like you had said, there was no harm in asking. "It has nothing to do with paperwork. Just in need of a babysitter for tonight."
Penelope's hand shot up, eyes brightening. "Me."
"Big Friday night eh?" Derek wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. "What's on the agenda, where the two of you headin'?"
"Nowhere." Aaron shrugged nonchalantly, a smidge of embarrassment heating his face. He was hoping he could persuade with minimal details. "It'll only be for a few hours. We just need them out of the house."
"Oh," JJ smirked after a moment, accompanied with a touch of sympathy. Out of all people, she would understand. "I see."
Aaron met her eyes, keeping his face still but with subtle pleading, hoping she'd tune into it. One that read: I'm begging you not to elaborate.
They were adults. It wasn't a topic of taboo. He just wasn't just too partial on openly discussing his sex life with his colleagues. Doesn't matter how long he's known them.
"Need some, mommy and daddy time, don't you?"
Aaron's stern expression continued to linger, but gradually softened in confirmation. He was tired; tired of waiting and being on the brink.
"No wonder you've been so grumpy."
Aaron shot Morgan a look, before stating his case. "Ellie's out of her crib now. She's learned that the world still continues to go on past bedtime."
"She's out of her crib?" Penelope aww'ed, her bottom lip pouting in bittersweetness.
"And comes into our room," Aaron paused, "every night."
For the first few nights, Ellie had stayed put; the excitement and newness of it all enough to keep her in bed. However, it didn't take long for her to realize she could simply, get up.
She'd come into the living room - you'd usher her back into bed. Jack would come out a while later, complaining Ellie had gone into his room and awoken him - Aaron's turn to return her to bed.
Then came the excuses. She needed water (a sippy cup was given to her, and told this meant she had to go to sleep now). She wanted to watch a movie and "cuddle, please?" It took everything in Aaron to decline, especially after she played up the sweetness in her big, brown eyes.
You'd think after all that, she'd exhausted herself, but no. Next came her crawling into bed with the two of you.
That's where the matter currently stood. She didn't want to sleep in her new big girl bed, but rather, the big bed. Right in the middle, snug between the two of you, and keeping your plans on hiatus.
The next night, you had thought you were in the clear. But sure enough, the second Aaron was straddled atop you, his lips trailing your skin and leaving you breathless, did little footsteps make their way down the hall. Aaron would roll off you instead, supporting himself on an elbow, while you laid there defeatedly, anticipating the opening of your bedroom door.
And again the following night, the same occurrence of events. Admittedly it's been a while since the two of you have been intimate, due to a certain toddler and cases taking Aaron out of town.
Derek laughed, "She's a little menace. I love that kid."
Aaron sighed, both his frustration and need only growing more. His voice wavered on the desperate side, "So can one of you? Please. Just a few hours is all I'm asking."
"I'd be happy to relieve you two. For a full night even, Henry and Michael would love to have Jack and Ellie sleepover." JJ offered, and Aaron internally let out a deep sigh of relief. "Will and I have been there, I get it."
"I-"
"And Aunt Penelope can come too, don't worry." JJ interrupted Penelope with a smile, reaching over and giving her hand a gentle tap.
"I'd- We'd appreciate it. Thank you." Aaron's shoulders dropped, and he could already feel the tension leaving his body. A rush of energy swept through him too, anticipating the delightfully, now long, night ahead. He could not wait to get home.
His thoughts were put on hold when he noticed the glint in JJ's eyes.
"And so you can relieve yourself."
Derek cackled while Aaron rolled his eyes, turning away from the group to hide his smile.
"Just let me know what time you want them over."
#aaron hotchner x reader#aaron hotchner#aaron hotchner fluff#aaron hotchner x you#aaron hotchner x fem!reader#aaron hotch x reader#aaron hotchner imagine#criminal minds#criminal minds x reader#criminal minds x you#criminal minds drabble#aaron hotchner drabble#criminal minds imagine#criminal minds fanfiction#hotch imagine#criminal minds x fem!reader
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NSFW alphabet – op81
author's note: hello again, rushed to finish this after quali today. mclaren second row lockout heck yes !!! anyways idk what i think about this one, first time posting something abt oscar in many months?? hope u enjoy tho :)
nsfw content below !! minors dni !!!
a – aftercare (what he is like after sex)
oscar is the biggest sweetheart after sex (when isn't he, though?). so so so gentle and caring for your every need. he'll be forcing you to drink some water, making sure you're cleaned up properly, helping you out with soothing lotions if your skin is sore.
lots of lots of kisses! forehead, nose, cheek, temple kisses, and especially little pecks on your lips. he loves having you rest on his chest after it all, fingers brushing along your skin or tangling in your hair. and there will be so many praises, "you did so well" and "you felt so good" and "you look gorgeous right now, did you know?"…
b – body part (his favorite body part of his and also his partner's body)
oscar has a thing for collarbones. they're like a magnet to his lips; his lips are automatically drawn to them. he loves to brush his thumb along them, seeing you shiver when he places fleeting kisses on top of them, and most importantly leaving little lovebites for only the two of you to see and know about. oscar is also in love with your breasts, no matter how big or small they are.
can't believe i almost forgot to write your eyes… i will get back to this later but your eyes are definitely one of his favorite things about you. watching you blink up at him innocently, watching your eyes flutter closed, watching them roll to the back of your head… oh he's smitten.
on his own body, he really likes his thighs. if he got to choose, he would have you sitting on his lap at all times. 24/7, no matter the occasion. the sight of you getting off just by riding his thigh is one of his absolute favorites, he loves flexing his muscles under you and guiding your hips down onto him.
c – cum (anything to do with cum, basically)
since he's a fan of your boobs (well, everything in the chest area, to be fair), he loves to pull out and spill his load over your breasts. he won't do it every time, but he savors the chances he gets. totally has a few pics of you with his cum all over your chest, dripping along your collarbones, saved for the moments when he misses you the most.
d – dirty secret (pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of his)
maybe not a dirty secret per se, but oscar has a little submissive streak... he sure does love begging a little, pouting and whining to get what he wants. and i mean, who could say no to these eyes looking up at you?
e – experience (how experienced is he? does he know what he's doing?)
well oscar went to school for longer than a lot of other racing drivers, and boarding school for that matter, so i think he's been able to get quite a bit of experience. he knows a lot, but it's more important to him to get to know you and what you like. his prior experience doesn't matter as much as the experience he gains together with you.
f – favorite position (this goes without saying)
oscar thinks you're the most gorgeous thing ever so you bet he doesn't want to spend even a second not getting to look into your pretty eyes. anything where he can watch your face contort or relax, and your eyes squeeze shut or blink up at him, makes him so weak. he loves a classic missionary, especially if he gets to hike one of your legs over his hip and especially if you put a pillow under your lower back because he knows you love it. and when you're enjoying himself, he enjoys himself, too.
seeing you ride him makes him a little crazy though, but don't expect him to keep his eye contact with you during it; his eyes will be firmly glued onto your boobs as they bounce up and down, he can't help it.
g – goofy (is he more serious in the moment? is he humorous? etc.)
oscar is a soft giggler during sex. he isn't overly serious but not overly humorous either, just a good mix. he's low laughs when you're whining for him, playful coos as reactions to your impatience, and a lot of "baby, let's not get ahead of ourselves, okay?" with teasing smiles. he's just not scared of a little humor because sex doesn't have to be so strict to him; it's just a cozy time you spend together and he wants you to be as comfortable and relaxed as you can.
h – hair (how well groomed is he? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)
he's no naked rat, but he likes to keep things neat. a bit trimmed, not super short but also not long. though i also feel like he definitely adjusts to your likes and what you find attractive.
i – intimacy (how is he during the moment? the romantic aspect)
sex isn't just fucking to him; sex is lovemaking. he loves to be romantic with it. celebrating birthdays or anniversaries in your bedroom with little candles everywhere to set the mood, rose petals in a heart on the bed, with a cozy bubble bath after. and even when it's not a big occasion, he's very soft and romantic. he has a few playlists he loves to put on, he knows exactly what to say to get you in the mood and where to press his lips to draw out your oh so sweet sounds. oscar is all gentle touches and soft glances.
j – jack off (masturbation headcanon)
that one time when you accidentally walked in on him jacking off because you came home early from work/school, he was so extremely flustered – but he also found it very arousing. when you asked him if you could help him out, he couldn't help his hasty nods and the way his heart skipped a few beats in his chest. watching you settle on his lap, your hands starting where his had left off, fingers brushing up and down along him teasingly... from that day, he replays the image of you giving him a handjob in his mind whenever he does it himself, and he loves to get your help whenever he doesn't have a lot of time but needs to get off before a race etc.
k – kink (one or more of his kinks)
marking. 100%. he'll be lowkey and casual with it, not really saying much about it, but after a while you come to the realization that he leaves quite a lot more lovebites than anyone you've been with before. the inside of your thighs, your hips, your ribs... but especially your chest area. they won't usually be where anyone can see, because he likes to keep your sex life private, but there have been occasions when he's been a bit extra riled up (or jealous) and he just couldn't back from leaving trails of hickeys down your neck. he just adores the thought of you having a physical reminder of who you belong to, even if they fade after a while.
l – location (favorite places to do the do)
your bedroom is the #1 favorite, but he's okay with other places too. he especially likes your bathtub, especially when the lights are dimmed and you've got some pretty candles spread out in the room (and downed a few glasses of wine possibly).
m – motivation (what turns him on, gets him going)
oscar loves lingerie. if you wore any lingerie, he would be turned on instantly. he just can't help it. i also feel like he's the type to just get turned on from mundane, domestic things. like, seeing you cooking? watching you do your nighttime routine? it's a reminder him that you're there, you're real, and you're his. there's nothing hotter than that.
during the actual lovemaking, he gets a little crazy whenever you say his name. especially when you're about to come and his name slips from your lips in the form of a breathless whimper and he can feel your insides contract around him. it could make him come instantly.
n – no (something he wouldn't do, turn-offs)
nothing where there's even the slightest chance that you'll injure yourself. nuh uh. he also dislikes things where you won't be able to easily quit if anything were to happen, like bonding. the idea of you being tied up when the fire alarm goes off or you get a panic attack makes his skin crawl, it's his worst nightmare.
o – oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)
i don't think he has anything against receiving it, but it won't happen unless you initiate it. he's very certain about not pressuring you in that way; he knows it's not always your favorite thing to do and he respects that.
i see him as someone who loves to give it, though. especially if he can take his time with you, rile you up with soft kisses and gentle caresses of your skin.
p – pace (is he fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)
oh i totally see oscar as more slow and sensual. as we've covered already, sex is lovemaking to him, and he's in no rush. he wants to enjoy every second of it, and make sure you do too. foreplay can last for an eternity with him because he loves preparing you for what's to come.
q – quickie (his opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)
he'd rather take his time with you and do it properly. if he really needs to blow off some steam, he'd rather just jack off or have you help him out if you don't have any time. if you're going to have sex, he wants to not be in any rush, and he wants to have time to properly take care of you after.
r – risk (is he game to experiment? does he take risks? etc.)
he's definitely open to experiment. he might want to try more things than he's willing to admit; even though he's fully comfortable with you by now, something still makes him a bit nervous about talking to you about it. he wants to find a 'good opportunity' to bring the idea up, but it might take him some courage to do it. he'll be very gentle, shy eyes blinking at you, voice soft… "only if you're okay with it, of course!" and "you really have to tell me if you don't want to. you have to promise me", maybe even making you pinky promise that you indeed do want to try the thing.
he'd be over the moon if you insinuated it, though. anything you're up for, he's automatically up for, too.
s – stamina (how many rounds can he go for? how long does he last?)
i think his stamina is quite good. when i say that he loves taking his time with you, i mean it in that way, too; he can go on for hours. if he needs to take a break, then he'll start focusing on you and making you feel good instead. neither of you will ever get tired, he just keeps on going until he's satisfied.
t – toys (does he own toys? does he use them? on a partner or himself?)
i wouldn't say he's the biggest fan of them, but he doesn't have anything against them, either. he's much happier if he gets to be the person to make you feel so good. though, the thought of you using your toys on yourself when he's not around really gets him going, and if anything, he's okay with you using them on yourself even when you're together. (fic abt osc watching you use your vibrator hereee)
u – unfair (how much he likes to tease)
not as much as some other people (*cough cough* his teammate *cough cough*) but he does enjoy it. he really likes teasing fingers dragging up and down your ribs, fleeting kisses all over your skin, brushing your hair away from your face as you're waiting for him to do something.
he does it in a gentle and sweet way that should be interpreted as just cute but it makes you furious sometimes? because he can be so slow it's infuriating and you want him to just get on with it already. he'll be pretending to think things through or fiddle with a belt, and you'll just go crazy because he should be touching you but he's just finding a bunch of excuses to keep you on your toes. he loves to see you squirming and whining beneath him, holding your hands away easily with a 'tsk' when you try to release some of your tension yourself since he's so goddamn slow. (blurb ish on this topic hereeee)
v – volume (how loud he is, what sounds he makes, etc.)
a lot of heavy breathing. i see him as a groaner, but he's not overly loud with it. he lovesss to talk you through it, though. "are you ready? is this okay? tell me if i need to pause. that feels so good, you're doing so good."
w – wild card (a random headcanon)
oscar LOVES praising you. it just happens naturally because he thinks you're doing so well and he loves you so much, he must tell you. "that's perfect, love. i love it when you do that. god, you feel so good. look at you, taking me so well. and looking so beautiful while doing it? there's no one as good as you..."
x – x-ray (let's see what's going on under those clothes)
just a bit longer than average but it's the thickness that makes him stand out. even after being together for a long while, it takes you a good amount of foreplay to stretch out for him, and it still feels like he's splitting you open once he finally slips fully into you.
y – yearning (how high is his sex drive?)
nothing too special i'd say, he loves a good few rounds but he enjoys a sweet, romantic night of another kind just as much.
z – zzz (how quickly he falls asleep afterward)
a sleepy boy in general but most of the time, he gets a little energy boost out of sex instead. he will be the last to fall asleep pretty much every time, which is also because he just wants to enjoy the moment for as long as he can before eventually falling asleep. he adores having you in his arms after doing his aftercare routines, drawing little shapes into your skin as you start to fall asleep. once asleep, though, he sleeps so well & heavy. it'll take three alarms and you bribing him with kisses for him to actually wake up before 1pm.
#f1#formula 1#formula one#oscar piastri#oscar piastri x reader#oscar piastri x you#oscar piastri x yn#oscar piastri x y/n#oscar piastri smut#oscar piastri fluff#oscar piastri imagine#oscar piastri scenario#f1 x reader#f1 x you#f1 x yn#f1 x y/n#f1 smut#f1 fluff#mclaren#mclaren racing
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₊ ⊹ summary. Chris wakes you up to go with him to record a video with his brothers and he does it in the best way possible.
₊ ⊹ content. smut. contents for responsible people, penetrations, sex in the morning, dirty talk, use of inappropriate words, among other variables.
₊ ⊹ author's note. My first language is not English, if you notice any errors you already know why. If you want to read more about the boys, I leave you the m.list here.
I wake up when I feel Chris's hands wrap around my waist. Without opening my eyes I smile when he places a couple of wet kisses on my neck. I'm still a little asleep.
"Mmh" I gasp, craning my neck so he has more access to kiss me. He smiles against my skin, his stubble tickles me. I still haven't opened my eyes, I was dying of sleep.
"Hey ma, weren't you going to accompany me to record?" he says, resting his cheek on mine, we're spooning. His hands caress my abdomen under my tunic. I shake my head several times, covering my face with a pillow, he laughs. I move my hips back, pressing my ass against his crotch. "Ah, that's what you want, dirty." He bites my cheek when I uncover my face and finally open my eyes, nodding with a smile on my face.
I love sex in the morning, at that time I was super sensitive and always horny.
I slide the thong to one side and seconds later I feel the tip running through my folds, goosebumps appear on my skin and I can't help but moan when it slowly slides inside me, to the bottom with a single thrust. I groan, furrowing my eyebrows. With one hand he lifts my leg, grabbing my thigh to propel his thrusts. While spooning, he puts his free arm under my body, resting his hand on my abdomen and bites my neck when I cling to him. I close my eyes letting myself be carried away by the pleasure. He fucks me gently at first and little by little he increases the speed, making me moan with each thrust. I turn my face a little and meet his, he kisses me, drowning out my moans for a moment while he doesn't stop fucking me. A wave of pleasure ran through my entire body that it was impossible not to writhe against him, ecstatic.
"Do you like it?" he asks on my lips, increasing the force of the thrusts, stimulating my g-spot. I look into his eyes, biting my lower lip as I nod several times, letting him understand that I was delighted, but nothing but moans came out of my mouth.
A few more thrusts and he finished, releasing the tension in my body and seconds later Chris finished too, filling me. When it comes out I smile, laying face down on the bed and snuggling into the sheets. I was already in a very good mood and super awake.
"Come on, don't be a sleepyhead," he slaps my ass and leaves a bite.
I complained, laughing as he smacked him.
"Beautiful big ass, I love you."
He kisses me on the mouth and gets up. I loved that he was bold with me only when we were alone, in public he didn't say crazy things to me.
"I love you more," I reply and he smiles at me before going to shower and getting ready to go record. I do the same.
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ᡣ𐭩 YOU'VE BEGUN TO FEEL LIKE HOME
FEATURING: pm!dazai osamu
SUMMARY: dazai is not as slick as he thinks he is, and you let him get away with way too much. OR, dazai realizes the only place he feels comfortable enough to sleep is at your side, but god forbid he vocalizes that.
AUTHOR'S NOTES: i'm on another pm!reader & dazai kick LOL, prepare for an influx of fics about them. i'm starting with this one because it's softer, the classic sharing a bed fic & u guys deserve some lightness after uu6 (warnings: fem!reader, nothing else really, this is light-hearted as promised)
Dazai doesn’t think you notice when he sneaks into your room at night.
To be fair, you don’t think you noticed the first few times. He’s very careful to make sure you’re still sleeping when he lets the door crack open so he can slip in. He shifts the blinds around just enough so that when he lays down and the sun starts to rise, it’ll hit him right in the eye, waking him up before you, so he can slip out unnoticed.
But he messed up two weeks ago. Or, well, it wasn’t really his fault. The hinges of your door creaked just a bit too loudly when he pushed it open, stirring you from your sleep, but he was evidently too tired to even notice. Your first reaction was obviously to tell him to get the fuck out, irate that he’d woken you up, but you found yourself hesitating as he began his swift and efficient process of setting up your room so he can lay there with you to get some rest and disappear before you wake up.
He slept above the covers on the edge of the bed, careful to keep space between the two of you—whether it was because he didn’t want to risk waking you up, or if he just didn’t want to touch you, you didn’t know, but you think it’s the former from the way you’ve noticed his body unconsciously trying to seek you out at night, only for him to startle awake and immediately move away.
You told yourself that you would address it the next morning—ask him what the fuck he was thinking sneaking into your bedroom—but you faltered when you saw how refreshed he was in the morning, bouncing around your apartment, the perpetual bags beneath his eyes mostly faded. You put together then how long he’s been doing this: three weeks, at least. You’d been wondering why he was suddenly so energetic some days, but it was easy to figure out that those days are the ones that he slips into your room to sleep.
You’d known for a while that Dazai doesn’t sleep well. Spends most nights wandering around your apartment looking for things to do if he doesn’t have missions; he only ever does sleep when he’s so drunk that he ends up passing out on your kitchen floor or he’s so tired that he physically can’t keep his eyes open any longer. You’d always wondered if it was because he can’t sleep or if it was because he doesn’t want to sleep, plagued with nightmares, memories whenever he closes his eyes.
So you let it continue—it doesn’t really bother you, he’s always careful to not disturb you and you figure that it’s better he gets at least some decent sleep so he doesn’t get himself killed on a mission because he’s depriving himself of it.
It’s not until a few weeks later that he realizes that you know. You’re half asleep when he tries to sneak into your room, barely conscious; you don’t remember to pretend to be asleep.
The door creaks open and shuts and you instinctively roll over, shifting up onto your elbows and squinting, eyes focusing on Dazai’s figure shrouded by the darkness, halfway across your room to your window. He freezes as soon as he realizes you’re awake.
“Dazai?” you ask quietly, voice a bit rough with sleep, mind moving a bit slow as you try to piece together what’s going on..
“I-” he starts to say—for a second, he’s caught off guard, fumbling for some sort of excuse. But Dazai is Dazai, so he recovers quickly. “Oh good, you’re awake. You see, I was trying to-”
“Shut up,” you murmur, laying back down and pulling the covers back, realizing what he’s here for. “Lay down.”
Dazai doesn’t budge. “What?” he breathes out, caught off-guard and clearly exhausted. You can see the dark bags beneath his eyes—he’s been on a mission for four or five days now, dealing with Mishima out in Tokyo. You figure that he hasn’t gotten any sleep since he left. “What are you talking about?”
His voice takes a cooler tone after the initial ‘what’, a defense mechanism, and you know Dazai is about to bolt to try to avoid this conversation, but it’s been weeks and you think it's about time. You crack an eye open to scowl at him, noticing the closed off expression on his face and the anxiety thinly veiled behind his dark eye. Before he can make a run for it, you push yourself up. You’re quick and Dazai is exhausted, so it’s easy for you to scramble forward and grab his wrist, wrangling him onto the bed with you.
Dazai kicks and flails, you scowl at him when he messes up your duvet and he bares his teeth at you like a wild animal. You tumble on the mattress with him for a few seconds, he bucks you off of him and nearly onto the ground, you spit a few curses at him—wide awake now—and grab his wrists, pinning them above his head and pressing your knee into his lower back. If Dazai wasn’t half asleep, he’d probably have been able to come out on top but you can feel how tired he is with how sluggish his limbs move and how heavy they are whenever one of them lay on you, as if he can barely hold himself up.
“What’s your issue?” you demand, biting back a yawn as you glare down at him.
Dazai twists his head to the side, looking at you from the corner of his eye with an indignant expression. “My issue?” he spits out. “You just manhandled me onto your bed. Let go of me.”
“You’ve been sneaking into my bed for a month, Dazai.”
Dazai stills and you watch as his cheeks instantly flame up. His eye is wide as he stares at you from the corner of it. You’d almost think he’s cute if he wasn’t Dazai.
“I have not.”
He lies. He lies. He lies as if you haven’t literally caught him in the act. You stare at him aghast, you thought maybe he’d try to wiggle his way out of it with a ‘no, you’ve misunderstood,’ not a straight up lie.
“You liar,” you accuse, voice pitched in disbelief. “You just lied right to my face.”
“No, I didn’t.”
Dazai lies again; his face is even more red now, and you think that’s to show just how exhausted he is because Dazai usually wears countless masks to hide himself from everyone. You think you strip him of one, and there are two more there protecting him—like a goddamn hydra, cut off one head and two more grow back.
But it seems like catching him in the act tonight, while he’s already tired and half-dead on his feet, was the equivalent of burning the heads of the hydra. His masks are gone and he’s left embarrassed and fumbling. You almost want to laugh, but you’re so incensed by the sheer audacity he has to blatantly lie to your face that you can’t even bring yourself to.
“You just did it again.”
“I did not.”
“Dazai,” you say exasperated, shifting a bit and he lets out an irritated grunt, tossing you an outraged look as you accidently dig your knee even more into his back. “Stop fucking around. You’ve been coming into my room at night every three days for at least a month.”
Dazai looks mortified.
“You’ve known for a month,” he demands. He wiggles like a worm trying to free himself from your grasp but you double down, pressing your weight down on his back. “You’ve known for a month, and you never said anything. Why didn’t you say anything?”
“I’ve known for two and a half weeks,” you correct, “but I figured it was a month or more based on when I started noticing your…mood improvements.”
A gentle way of putting that he doesn’t look like he wants to murder anyone that looks in his direction at any given moment, but Dazai obviously understands what you’re getting at and looks even more humiliated.
You almost feel bad.
Almost.
“It’s not-” Dazai starts to say. He stutters. He stutters. A part of you wishes that you could record this, knowing you’ll never get the chance to see Dazai so caught off guard like this probably ever again. “I don’t-”
“I don’t care, Dazai,” you sigh tiredly. “I don’t mind. It doesn’t bother me. Just stop fucking being a creep about it, Christ.”
“No,” Dazai says, voice raised in pitch and petulant as he turns his face to press it down into your pillow. His words are muffled as he continues, “No. No. It’s ruined now. You’ve ruined it.”
Your eyes slide shut, you sigh. You’re suddenly tired again, you decidedly don’t want to deal with Dazai Osamu’s fickle and capricious nature. Because of that, you let go of him. You shake your head as you move off of him, sitting back down in bed and giving him a chance to flee, like he wanted to begin with.
Dazai does not budge.
At all.
You stare at him in disbelief.
Did he fall asleep?
You poke the side of his head and Dazai doesn’t let out a noise of complaint or shift even a centimeter, his shoulders rise and fall slowly and you turn your gaze up to the ceiling, praying for patience.
“You can’t sleep like that,” you say more to yourself than him. “You’re gonna suffocate yourself, you loser.”
You try to push him onto his side, but he startles awake as if he’d only just barely started dozing off. You watch as he jolts, sluggish limbs trying to push himself up, blinking blearily. You think he looks even more mortified when he realizes that as soon as he rested his head down, he immediately started drifting off.
“Dazai, you’re exhausted. Sleep,” you say, amusement dwindling as your brows furrow in concern. You don’t think you’ve ever seen him so off-kilter before.
Has he really not slept since he left?
“No,” Dazai says, and even though the exhaustion is clear in his voice, he’s stubborn and trying to push himself up. “I can’t sleep because you had to go ahead and ruin it.”
“I didn’t ruin anything, Dazai,” you say, becoming increasingly more irritated as you lose out on more sleep. You have a meeting with Mori in the morning and you don’t want to head into it half-asleep. “You’ve been sneaking into my bed for a-”
“Stop saying that,” Dazai complains, covering his face with his hands as he sits at the edge of your bed, back turned to you. “It’s not-you’re just selfish.”
You gape. “Excuse me?” you say, even more appalled at this outlandish insult than you were over him lying to your face.
“You’re selfish. You keep the soft blankets and the nice mattress all to yourself. You’re selfish, you leave me with the scraps and then call me a creep for wanting a decent night of sleep,” Dazai says, voice a sulky hiss.
You stare at him—you don’t respond, just stare at the back of his head, willing yourself not to get violent, because there is no way that the boy who has moved himself into your apartment, leeches off your food, shampoos, soaps, and conditioners, has made a home on your couch and in your guest bedroom, who sneaks into your bed without even a small complaint from you, has the nerve to call you selfish.
As if Dazai can feel the rapidly approaching violence coming from you, he turns to look at you over his shoulder, visible eye wide and deceptively sad, head tilted to the side at a demure angle that you know he uses to get what he wants from whatever fool falls for the shitty act. You think he has some nerve trying to use it on you as if you won’t see right through it.
“It’s not fair,” he says. His voice is soft and sweet now, honeyed but you can all but taste the venom of the manipulation in the sweetness. “I just want to sleep too. It’s not fair you get all of the comfortable stuff. You’re making me seem like a creep, but I just want to sleep, and now everything is ruined.”
Therein lies the issue: the mattresses in your bedroom and the guest bedroom are in fact the same, and the sheets are the same brand and style but in different colors. The comfort of the bedroom is not the issue here. So, you choose to play his game.
“Fine,” you agree lightly. “You can take my bedroom. I’ll move into the guest bedroom. Nothing will be ruined anymore. Problem solved.”
“No.”
The sweet expression on his face drops, his gaze sharpens as he stares at you from the corner of his eye. You can barely refrain from rolling your eyes.
“No?”
“No.”
“And why not, exactly?” you ask tightly, the thin smile on your lips strained.
“You’re not allowed in my room,” Dazai says matter-of-factly.
Oh my god, you think to yourself, feeling a headache coming on, the fucking audacity of this boy.
“That is my guest room,” you say slowly. “If I want to go in there-”
“It’s been mine for over a year. It’s mine, and you’re not allowed in, so you have to stay here,” Dazai corrects firmly. “Therefore, everything is still ruined.”
“I’ll sleep on the couch.”
“No.”
“Why, Dazai?” you ask, becoming frustrated quickly. “What is your fucking issue? Jesus, I’m tired, I-”
“I can’t sleep! I can’t sleep unless you’re yhere and now it’s ruined because you weren’t supposed to know,” Dazai says so suddenly and so loudly that it startles you, and then he looks distressed as if he didn’t mean to say that. “I can’t-I don’t know why-it just happened-I don’t-”
Dazai cuts himself off with a sharp breath when he realizes he can't even talk his way out of the situation, only fumbling over an explanation and making things worse for himself. If he looked embarrassed before, it’s nothing compared to how he looks now. His visible eye looks glassy, expression twisted and uneasy. His exhaustion has loosened his tongue too much and now he looks like he wants to rid himself of it entirely. His fingers are curled into fists so tightly that you think his uneven nails must be drawing blood from his palms.
At once, all of the fight left in you disappears.
“I’m going,” Dazai says more to himself than you. “I’m going. I’m just going to go. It doesn’t matter. Forget it.”
You don’t know if by go he means go to ‘his’ room or if he means leave your apartment and hide away in his shipping container for days like he usually does when he’s upset about something. Either way, Dazai is close to dead on his feet—you can see it in the way he sways as he tries to push himself up and you can see it in the way his visible eye droops down, hardly able to hold it open. You don’t think he’d make it to the hall without his legs giving out on him, much less to his shipping container halfway across the city—he’d be easy pickings for the numerous enemies he’s made waiting for a chance like this to finally take him out.
You sigh and before he can get half a step away, you snatch his wrist and tug him right back down into the bed. He shoots you an affronted look.
“Stop manhandling me,” he complains again. “You’re turning into a brute like Chuuya.”
“Shut up,” you say halfheartedly, “and lay down. How is going somewhere else going to solve your sleeping problems? I don’t know how you’re somehow both the dumbest and smartest person I’ve ever met.”
Dazai curls in on himself a bit, and you frown because he’d usually preen and tease you about the compliment, but he only looks unsure now. “It’s ruined-”
“Lay down,” you say, firmer this time, watching as Dazai’s gaze lingers on you for a moment before he averts his attention to the ceiling. He lays down awkwardly, head resting on your pillow; he turns on his side so that his back is to you. He makes no move to pull the covers over him.
You let yourself roll your eyes now that he’s not looking at you, reaching down to pull the covers over both of you. You hesitate for a second, but then you choose to shift closer to him, resting your head down on the pillow as you wrap your arm loosely around his waist. He stiffens instantly, and you give it a second to see if he relaxes. When he doesn’t, you start to push yourself back away from him but before you can, he grabs your wrist to hold you in place, the tension in his shoulders dissipating as he relaxes back against you.
“Nothing is ruined,” you murmur, eyes sliding shut now that you can finally rest. “I told you, I don’t care. Just sleep, Dazai. You need it.”
“... Only for tonight, one last time,” he yawns, unconsciously shifting back closer to you. It’s another blatant lie, but this one only makes you smile fondly.
“Sure,” you agree. “Only for tonight.”
When you wake up in the morning, Dazai is tucked right into your side. You’d shifted at some point during the night to lay onto your back and he’d curled right into you, resting his head on your shoulder and slinging an arm around your waist. Your gaze flickers to the clock on your nightstand and you let out a soft breath when you see that you have thirty minutes before you have to be at the main headquarters for your meeting with Mori but…
Your mouth dries when you glance down at Dazai. His bandaged eye is pressed into your body, but you can see the way his visible one is slid shut, lashes brushing his cheek as he sleeps. His face is so smooth and relaxed, breaths deep and even, peaceful in a way that you never really see of Dazai Osamu. You hadn’t fully closed your blinds before falling asleep last night, and you find yourself entranced by the way Dazai looks underneath the early morning sun, breath hitching as he lets out a soft noise in the back of his throat before shifting closer to you.
Fuck.
You let out a puff of air, eyes sliding shut. There’s no way you’ll be able to slip out of bed without waking him up, and you find that you don’t want to wake him up. Dazai is an irritating little shit, and he makes your life as difficult as he possibly can, but you think you’d be cruel purposely disrupting the little bit of peace in his life that he can have.
(You also think that you never give a shit about cruelty unless Dazai Osamu is somehow involved and the recipient of it, but you instantly dispose of that thought.)
Decision made, you reach for your phone and quickly shoot a text to Mori:
Something came up. Meet later.
And you promptly shut your phone off before settling back in bed with Dazai, arm curling around his waist and head falling to the side so that you can bury your face in his soft brown hair. You notice, as you doze back off, that it smells suspiciously like the expensive vanilla shampoo that you specifically told him not to use, but you’re already too sleepy to make a fuss out of it.
You’ll bitch about it later, you decide.
(If you can feel him smile against your shoulder as you fall back asleep with him, you ignore it.)
#dazai x reader#dazai x you#bsd x reader#bsd x you#bungo stray dogs x reader#bungo stray dogs x you#dazai fluff#bsd fluff#bungo stray dogs fluff
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KEEPSAKE:: leon kennedy
WARNING:: 80's au, playboy! Re2!Leon, car sex, riding, hair pulling, oral, fingering, teasing, fingering, slight edging, overstimulation, slight rejection, teasing, sexual tension
SUMMARY:: after a failed date you expect some sort of a reward for putting up with Leon who still seems to be hung up on his ex.
Leon Kennedy has been on many dates. One would even say that he has hooked up half of the girls after a date— which were all unsuccessful. It's not that there was anything wrong in particular with the people he has taken out, it's just that none of them have piqued his interest for a second one. And it just so happens that you had been taken on one of said dates.
When Leon asked you out on a date to the movies and dinner you hadn't expected the movie to be some trashy chic flick about an American actress going to Italy and falling in love with her friend's married Italian lover. It dragged on for 2 hours and you couldn't stand to sit through the first minute of opening credits. But not only did you sit through a silent car ride on your way to the restaurant but when you sat inside the restaurant it felt like this terrible date would never end.
"I used to be on the basketball before I graduated and I started working with my friend, she's really cool- she even has a neck tattoo" he rambled on and on for what felt like a lifetime. Only nodding off as he rambled on and on about working at the old movie theater and something about how his manager only shows up to be a dick.
But low and behold the lovely waitress with a tight lipped smile "would you like your bill.. or would you like me to swing by a little later?" She asked politely looking at the both of you. "You can give us our check now" you answered quickly before pulling 30 dollars out of your pocket when the check was set on the table.
Once Leon had caught his eyes on the cash in your hand he shook his head "you don't have to pay, what kind of guy would I be to make you pay for your food?" He says patting his pockets which makes you roll your eyes "it's fine" you reply flatly pressing the 20 and 10 dollar tip onto the wooden table and like second nature stood from the worn out booth walk to the class doors pushing them open and making a b-line to the boys nice and shining Pontiac.
Leon grew up coddled, he was popular in high school, he had the cutest girl in his grade. Now he's digging it with girls who never made it past the first date because he never could find a bond with them, while working at the local theater and losing all cool points he's earned on his way up in high school. Well on your end you didn't care for his past reputation, you didn't care for this date and the fact that you haven't had an ounce of fun since you had walked past your front porch was eating you up inside.
When you heard keys jangling in an instant you turned your head being met with Leon walking over to the drivers side of the car. Unlocking the doors you both get in and once the car starts you fiddle with the radio never wanting to sit through silence and letting the hum of the radio come out softly through the speakers.
You were so caught up in your thoughts you had failed to realize how dark it had started to get, the once blue sky turned to deep orange and yellow hues. Watching as the power lines zipped past you in a blur, if you were going to sit in this car you would be damned if you had to sit in awkward silence and do nothing.
Just as Leon had turned onto the highway the road seemingly empty as it got darker out and the headlights of his car lighting up the black asphalt on the road. Your view flickering between the road and Leon who was watching the road with one hand on the wheel as the other slumped against the middle console.
The sight of his thighs sat stiffly while his jaw clenched. "Leon, if you're not over your ex why'd you ask me on a date?" You ask curiously as you tilt your head leaning in a bit pressing the swell of your chest against his hand on the console. "What? I'm over my ex, I have been for a while now. What makes you say that?" He asks as he sputters over his own words at the thought of being hung up over his ex.
"You haven't asked a single thing about me on this date. You really only talked about you, and might I add you even talked about your coworker which really doesn't help your case at all" you say flatly. "Seriously?! I am over my ex I swear" his voice goes up a few octaves higher as he tries to think of something that obscure the idea.
"When was the last time you slept with someone and actually enjoyed it then?" You ask with a twisted grin on your lips. You knew the answer but you wanted to hear it from him, you wanted the satisfaction of hearing the words yourself from his lips. "I don't know? And I'll have you know that I have had great sex without my ex" he snarked at you.
"Yeah your words aren't very convincing like... at all" you say as you push your legs under your thighs "I can change that you know? I don't know if by the end of it you'll even be thinking about her but...I'll occupy your head for a bit" you say, trailing your hand into his lap and rubbing against his thigh.
"What are you doing?" He scoffed as his eyes flicker from his lap with your hand trailing closer to his bulge earning a small gasp from him eliciting a small giggle from your lips loud enough to hear over the buzzing music. "Just keep looking at the road" you whisper as you press your lips to his warm cheek.
Your hand moving closer to his half hard crotch clad in jeans as you palm him, the feeling of fabric pressed against him has him groaning and running a hand through his dark hair in exasperation. "It's not really a good idea to be doing this... while I'm driving" he reasons, which makes you shake your head with a soft smile. "Then focus" you look up at him while your hands move to unzip his pants and unbutton them as well letting him lift his hips while you pull down his jeans far enough over his thighs.
"Shit" he harshly whispers at the feeling of your wet palm wrapping around his cock leaking precum and glistening under the orange and yellow street lights on the side of the road. Taking his cock into your fist, slowly jerking and teasing the tip with your thumb has the boy biting his plump lips while choking back a small groan.
The feeling of your warm tongue has the boy breathing heavily as his foot presses onto the gas harder spreading the car up. "Ease up, you want the car ride to last don't you?" You ask as you look up at him, your tongue pressing flatly against his tip and taking him deeper, letting your lips wrap around him.
The warmth of your mouth around him almost has his eyes rolling, letting his hand rest on the back of your head, needing to push your head down further but letting you slowly take him into the back of your throat as the tip of your nose brushes against his stomach.
Pulling back slowly you began to bob your head, the wet sound of your mouth around his cock has him light headed as he drives slower than he normally would on the highway. Flexing his thighs as the feeling "You're so good at this- fuck y/n" he moaned as his jaw slacks at the feeling of your tongue running against the vein on the underside of his cock that had him nearly shivering.
"keep going. Don't stop" he groaned, letting his head fall back. His hair messily pushed against his forehead as it was soaked from the sweat building at his hairline and his eyes rolled back "you're gonna make me cum" he says breathily as he pushes your hair out of your way turning it into a makeshift ponytail.
Using your hand you hollow your cheeks as your hand takes care of what your mouth wasn't and it had him absolutely lost, still trying to focus on the road he makes a turn to the next exit and choosing to go the longer route to your house.
His breathing becomes more and more unhinged as you use both your hands to jerk him off and licking his tip has him moaning while almost swerving into a random mailbox catching himself before doing so. "I'm so close" he moaned as he clutched your hair tighter realizing how agonizing it felt when you hadn't changed your pace at all.
"Please go faster" he begged, making you smile a bit as you moved your hands away from him completely and taking him into your mouth while he bucked his hips desperately for a release. you could, feeling the tip nudge the back of your throat while your nose was nestled tightly against his pubic bone. While your eyes are closed tight to focus on relaxing your gag reflex to not ruin the tight feeling for him you move faster hoping that would push him over the edge.
"Oh- fuck" he gasped as he gripped the wheel tighter as he felt his orgasm crash on him like a ton of bricks. "I can't...I can't keep driving or I'm gonna crash- fuck" he whined as he pulls onto the side of the road and cutting the lights and engine. The only sounds that could be heard were Leon's heavy breathing.
Watching as you pull back with glossy eyes as your cheeks and chin covered in spit and cum which has his head pulled back against the headrest completely dazed. "You okay?" You ask as you wipe off your face with small puffs of laughter falling past your lips. "I'm good...really good" he says with a faint smirk.
"I wanna make you feel good too" he says, his eyes trailing over to your fully clothed figure, your eyes low and red almost as if you had been high, lips puffy and swollen. "You can do that" you nod as you manage to crawl over the middle console and sit against his thighs, your skirt riding up your legs.
"You're so wet" he whispered as he felt the warmth of your slick panties stick against his skin making you look down where you had been sat with slight embarrassment. His finger rubs against your clothes slit watching as the wet patch on your panties becomes bigger. Pressing his thumb down on your clit had a moan falling past your lips as your hand trails to his wrist pulling his hand past the waist band on your panties.
"I need you, here." You mumbled as you felt his nimble fingers running against your slit making you whine desperately. Grinding against his fingers you can hear his laughing breathily as he watches you fall apart on top of him. "I'd call you desperate if I didn't want to fuck you so bad" he says as he presses his forehead against yours, watching the way you get off could make him cum untouched.
"Just shut up" you whined out with a small gasp pressing your lips against his hungrily your hand raking through his hair, your tongues lapping against the others and sucking on his pulling away with a small 'pop' you bite your lip as you keep eye contact with him. "Fuck this feels so good" you whisper your forehead still pressed against his as he rubs your clit in figure 8's.
"Yeah?" He asks as he pulls his hand away and out of your panties earning a small whine from you. His fingers pushing your panties to the side. "Why?" You practically cry out. Leon's eyes never leaving yours watching them gloss over from the loss of pleasure. "I want you to cum with me" he says just above a whisper while he takes his length into his hand pumping himself a few times before pressing his tip against your entrance and with a harsh hiss he's slowly pushing inside your tight walls.
The warm and wet feeling has him drunk on the feeling of you around him. Pushing his seat back far enough that both of you are comfortable as Leon watches you grind your hips against him slowly as he bottoms out inside you, the feeling being all too good for his liking.
"It's so big" you groan as your hands press against his abdomen lightly bracing yourself to start moving. The soft thudding of your thighs meeting against yours sends goosebumps all over your skin. Leon couldn't possibly keep his hands to himself as he finds the hem of your shirt and pulls it over your head.
"No bra?" He groaned watching as your bare chest bounced with every movement you made which has you smiling with your lip caught between your teeth. "You're so big" you slur seeing how good he filled you up to the brim your arms wrap around his neck your foreheads pressed together as you watch his begin to slowly move. Leon couldn't get enough of the sight as his cock disappeared inside your Pussy.
His cock buried deep inside you that you moan and dig crescent shaped dents into his skin. set a pace for bouncing in his lap. The feeling of your velvety walls tightening around making him choke back a moan.
"Oh- god" you whisper shakily. His hands holding onto your hips guiding a pace, the soft sound of skin slapping with your small moans reverberated through the car.
You looked so good with your chest bouncing and your hair all messy. You looked good with a small sheen of sweat on your skin and your makeup smeared, he was addicted to the sight.
He slowly thrusts into you letting you get used to his size not realizing you were beginning to bounce yourself on his lap desperate to feel pleasure. His pace practically teases you and shows you how desperate you really are from your small moans whimpers.
Leon; eager to let his load off inside you, holds your thighs stopping you from bouncing any longer and begins to thrust his hips up into you. The feeling of his tip pushing at your cervix.
His hips pushing into you as your thighs and ass jiggle at the repetitive thrusts "oh my god!" You moan as you feel him pounding in a certain part of your walls. You tighten around him as your essence forms a white ring around the base of his dick.
"Just like that" you babble mindlessly as his stomach churns at the words spewing out. "Yeah? Want me to fill you up with my cum?" he groans as the knot in your stomach begins to tighten and Leon's death grip on the fat of your thighs almost sends you over the edge if it wasn't for how hard he was pounding you.
he placed his hand on your ass, kneading the flesh harshly as whimpers left his lips at the feeling of your walls closing around him. "Just like that, yes, please please please!!" You beg, feeling yourself getting closer and closer as he punctuates his thrusts. You pull his hair, again and again, harder and you can't help but become more aroused from the sounds he lets fall from his lips.
Sitting up completely Leon doesn't hesitate to kiss against your warm skin, from the valley between your breast to sucking on your nipples, the warmth of his mouth has you utterly out of it while you fuck yourself on his cock begging for some sort of release. The sloppy sounds make your head spin, your hand trailing from his hair to between the both of you.
Rubbing your clit in hopes that this would send you closer to your orgasm. "Fuck- oh fuck" he moaned against your chest as you clench around him as he felt absolutely pussy drunk with you on top of him. Leon could barely comprehend a thing as he stops you all together.
"Get up" he said breathlessly as you push yourself off of his lap, you slowly start to crawl back into the passenger seat thinking even the sex was a complete bust. But the feeling of his hands on your waist keeps you from moving. "Bend over into the seat" he says moving out of your way as you feel a smirk on your pretty lips.
With your back arched and your face pushed against the headrest you knew that you were done for, Leon pushing inside you again and without a care in the world thrusts into you at the same pace he was going before.
"Harder- please" you moan out as the windows begin to fog over, Leon begins to buck his hips into you at a faster pace as the slick sound of your pussy and precum mix loudly along with the patterning of your thighs slapping against his. You feel ecstasy at the way he made you feel so full.
His large hands onto your spine as making your chest push into the seat, not that you minded at all. Leon from behind absolutely loses his mind as his fingers card through his brown locks. Fucking into you with harsh and sharp thrusts that have your toes curling. Your ass bouncing against his lap has him tossing his head back leaving a stinging sensation in both of your thighs.
you begin to bounce and grind against him to meet his hips. It felt like he was in your stomach and you didn't mind at all, your hands the seat tighter as he used his other hand to wrap around your throat pulling your back against his chest.
"Aw look at you, all fucked out. What would your friends think about me bending you over in my car and fucking you like a slut hm?" He asks as his grip around your throat tightens, you couldn't even gather your words as he hits a spot that has you breathing shakily and your moans are even more louder.
"Right here? Does it feel good here?" He asks as he drags his cock against that same spot again and again "yeah, it feels so fucking good Leon" you moan as your eyes roll back. The feeling of his sweet lips on your skin as you feel like you're in heaven.
Your thighs are practically shaking at the feeling, pleasure practically taking over your body as Leon pounds you into his front seat without a single care in the world. Pushing your face against the seat while he becomes sloppy and rougher with every passing second you could feel the pressure in the pit of your stomach growing and waiting to be released.
"I can't take it" you moan as you shake your head "I'm gonna cum" you whimper as you feel warm tears slide down your cheeks. "I think you can baby, you wanna cum so bad right? So take what I give you" he orders sweetly in a faux tone. His thrusts are non stop and you can't help but let the pleasure envelope you.
"Oh fuck" you gasp as the feeling of release comes closer "cum for me. I know you can" he coos at you while pulling your hips into his harder than before tipping you over the edge as your walls clench around him sporadically earning a guttural moan ripping through his throat.
"I'm close, where do you want it?" He asks as he continues to fuck into you "inside. Please cum inside me" you whimpered before you felt the pressure in your stomach let loose "I got you, you're okay" he praised as his fingers rubbed down your spine leaving goosebumps up and down your body.
A few more thrusts slow and deep have your toes curling and sending Leon into an orgasm struck daze. "Fuck you feel so good" he groans as his hands rub against the red warm skin of your ass. Leaning of you and kissing up your spine as you both bask in your pre orgasm clarity.
"I see why so many girls like you Leon" you say breathlessly with a smile making him chuckle as he runs a hand through his hair slowly pulling out of you with a hiss due to loss of warmth. "Well it's a pleasure to live up to your standards" he says as he reaches into his glove box and pulls out wipes cleaning you up.
The both of you getting dressed again and seated, Leon starts the car and the both of you are back on the road with the faint sound of music filling the air as the both of you exchange small words every few minutes until Leon turned on the road your house was located.
Pulling into your gravel driveway he parks and opens his door walking onto your side and opening it offering a hand which makes your brows shoot up at the sudden chivalry, taking his hand and shutting the door behind you he walks you to your fronts door and as you turn to look at him you see the small smile on his lips. "So...this was nice" he says as he looks down at his feet.
It wasn't.... Not until the both of you had sex in the back of his car at least. "Right... just- let me know when you get over Ada" you pat his chest with an awkward grin on face as you watch his head fall back letting out a groan. "I told you. I'm over her- seriously we broke up and I haven't talked to her since" he shakes his head.
You could tell by the tone in his voice he wasn't, but Leon was eager to see you again so it meant he was moving on. One step forward. "Let me know when you're ready for something serious, Kennedy."
You snap your fingers as you give yourself an idea, your hands find themselves under your skirt which had Leon in a small shock at your actions seeing a flash of your pink panties as you pull them down your legs and balling it in your hand. "Until then have the panties as a keepsake to get off whenever you like" you say, stuffing the ball of wet fabric into his pockets. and with that you leave him at your front door with his hand in his pockets clutching your frilly panties.
Opening the door and shutting it behind you Leon stands at your doorstep biting his lip turning on his heel and walking back to his car watching how the windows were still a bit foggy. Opening the driver side to the door and sitting down in his seat he sighs, dragging his finger across the glass in the shape of a U and to small dots in the shape of the tip of his index finger a smiley face left behind.
"I gotta get her on that second date" he huffed to himself as he pulled out of the driveway of your home.
#𖦹—(ifuckslasherz)#leon kennedy smut#leon kennedy#leon kennedy imagine#leon kennedy x reader#leon smut
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Hey darlin'! I just saw your one-shots and i REALLY love them!! I need morr about Eddie with Hopper!Reader <33 Please!! A fluff or a smut where the Reader have to deal with her father. Hope you can answer. Have a nice day!! ✨️
-🩷
You and Eddie try to have a chill night in, but it's difficult when you have the world's most paranoid chief of police as a father — eddie x fem!hopper!reader fluff
warnings: none
words: 1.2k
a/n: thanks for submitting a request! I'm sorry it took so long, I've been so busy lately, and I'm sorry I couldn't figure out how to end it lmao but I really hope you like this fic!!
Even though your dad knew about you and Eddie dating, he was definitely not as okay with it as you would have hoped, but honestly more than you had expected.
He had met Eddie a few times since he found out you were in romantic cahoots with the familiar criminal, and despite your fears, they had gotten along quite well despite their history and their differences. But no matter how many things they actually had in common, no father would fully trust Eddie Munson to be alone with his little girl.
“Door open three inches!” Your dad called from the couch. “You know the rules!”
You rolled your eyes, standing up from the bed to open the door to Hopper’s liking.
The door was open three inches, and you swore that it was the draft causing the door to move slightly, but you knew your dad would never believe you.
“Seriously, Dad?” You asked him.
“Rules are rules.” He confirmed. “If you don’t like it, then the boyfriend can go.”
You let out a heavy, dramatic sigh before returning to your boyfriend, who was currently sketching out a Dungeons and Dragons character based on you for his new campaign.
Eddie looked up from his paper when you sat back down next to him. “You can do a lot with three inches, you know?”
You put a finger over his mouth—which he playfully tried to bite—and you shushed him while holding back a laugh at his incredibly stupid, albeit funny, joke.
“He’s gonna hear you, and he’s gonna drag you out of here. Keep drawing.”
He put the finishing touches on his design, then let out a sound of satisfaction over it before turning the notebook so you could see it better.
“I think I did pretty good.” Your boyfriend proclaimed. “She’s almost as pretty as you.”
Oh, how you lucked out with this mysterious dork. You thanked him by pressing a quick kiss on his cheek before your dad became suspicious of you two once again.
“You think I should get it as some ink?” Eddie asked you.
“Like, you want to get it tattooed?”
Eddie nodded, eyes going back and forth between you and the cartoon version of you that he just made.
“Absolutely not.” You replied.
“What? Why not? Do you not love me enough to let me tattoo you on me?”
He was ridiculous, staring at you with big, fake puppy dog eyes and a pleading lip.
“Of course I love you, but as your girlfriend, I also need to stop you from doing stupid things.”
“What if I keep your tattoo separate from the creepy skulls and spiders?”
Well, that was an offer you almost couldn’t refuse. Even though it was tempting, you would never let him know that he can get to you like that, so you played it cool.
“Ask me again in a year.”
His face erupted into a devilish smile and he held his hands to his chest like a cartoon character in love.
“I’m getting a tramp stamp of my girlfriend in a year!”
Before you could protest his proclamation, he pulled you into his arms in what you hoped was just a teasing gesture rather than a genuine expression of excitement for something you were certainly not going to let happen.
Just a second later, your dad cleared his throat very pointedly, which practically frightened you out of your boyfriend’s arms.
“El wants to watch a movie.” He announced. “Come watch with us.”
You sat up and shook your head lightly. “Um, no thanks, Dad. We’ll pass on that.”
Your dad raised an eyebrow and looked at Eddie’s arm around your waist. “You have something better to do?”
It was at that point that you knew him telling you about your sister and the movie was an order, not an invitation. You bit the inside of your cheek and luckily, Eddie spoke up before you could say something snarky.
“A movie sounds great, chief. Count us in.”
“Good.” Hopper said curtly before turning around to the living room.
Eddie stood up and started teasingly pulling you off the bed. You laid down and let out an annoyed groan, resisting his attempts to move you.
“C’mon, babe, movie time.” Eddie encouraged.
“It’s just gonna be The Wild Bunch. That’s one of their favourite movies and I know El’s been wanting to see it again lately.” You mumbled. “I’d much rather stay here with you.”
“Well, your dad might never let me back in your house if he thinks I’m trying anything with his daughter in the other room, so we have to. Plus, I like The Wild Bunch too.”
Your face formed an exaggerated frown as you finally got up off the bed.
Eddie smiled and escorted you to the living room. And although you had just started to build up excitement within you for this movie night, it already got worse.
El was in her favourite recliner—the VHS case for The Wild Bunch was on her lap, you called it—but your dad had plopped himself down in the exact middle of the couch. Not only did you have to watch a movie with your family instead of chilling with your boyfriend, but you couldn’t even sit next to him because your dad hates the idea of you having fun.
Before you knew it, you were in a full on stare-down with the Hawkins chief of police.
“Take a seat.” He said passive aggressively.
“I want to sit next to Eddie, Dad. Could you move over?”
He shook his head. “I’m not falling for any of your tricks. I was a teenager once.”
“Yeah, like a thousand years ago.” You mumbled.
The comment was quiet but your dad still heard it.
“Careful, any attitude and I’ll assume it came from the moron and he won’t be allowed back in the house.”
You looked over at Eddie with a defeated expression on your face. He looked back at you, sympathetic and willing to comply—the latter was a complete switch from his normal mood.
Your boyfriend understood completely why your dad was worried about you and Eddie dating, but that didn’t mean he was happy about it. Of course, Eddie was willing to do whatever he could to seem like the boyfriend every parent would want for their daughter—he really was, some people just couldn’t look past the exterior shell to see it—so he held his tongue and went along with anything.
The two of you sat down on opposite sides of the couch, separated by your relentless father.
“Alright, El, play the movie.” Hopper said.
He then leaned back and kept his eyes on the television in front of you all.
Eddie soon caught your gaze from across the couch, and he stretched his arm behind his head, oh so conveniently placing it a few inches from your shoulder.
You grinned at him, keeping it subtle, and took his hand in yours.
The two of you watched the rest of the film like that, holding hands in that slightly uncomfortable way, and the night wasn’t as insufferable as it seemed like it was going to be. All thanks to Eddie, of course.
#eddie munson#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x fem!reader#eddie munson x hopper!reader#eddie munson fluff#eddie munson imagine#eddie munson fanfiction#eddie munson oneshot#eddie munson fanfic#stranger things#stranger things imagine#stranger things fanfiction#stranger things fluff
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“I’m shitting my pants” mark says to his best friend. they were currently standing outside of the music classroom awaiting the final class where they’ll have to present the project each group was working on
“really? you’ve never been one to stress over music class I’m sure you won’t fuck up” haechan replies chewing on the cherry-flavored gum he got handed during his last class
“no dude I’m talking about y/n. seeing her is *sigh* let’s just go okay?” he says to which haechan nods
“don’t worry you won’t have to talk for now” haechan says entering the class. he then proceeded to sit down next to you while mark sat right behind the both of you
“you ready?” hyuck asks turning to you “no? i don’t know? i’m nervous” you reply. playing in front of people was never your thing. you just hoped to pass this class because this class is not worth retaking the semester.
two groups passed and you only got progressively more anxious, people had practiced. they were ready. while you never practiced with both your partners, none of you did. either having alone practicing sessions or some with hyuck. you don’t know if you’re on the same wavelength, you don’t know how you guys will even sound all together. If you were being honest this was partly your fault. your pride and feelings got in the way. But you also knew that no sessions would’ve been productive had you trained with mark. You knew that you would’ve nitpicked every single thing he would do and would make sure that your pettiness and anger could be felt. So either way this couldn’t have been avoided. You just hoped that whatever terrible outcome was about to be unleashed to the rest of the music class, in just about a minute now, would be enough to get a passing grade.
sitting down, plugging your electric guitar, making eye contact with haechan - the subconsciously assigned new leader of the group seeing as though he was the middle ground in between you and mark- waiting for him to give you the go and then you started playing. And exactly 2 minutes and forty four seconds later, haechan mark and you were done performing 200 in front of your class. Immediately looking up at your professor’s face only to see a wide grin and a pleased head nod directed towards mark. Of course. This was a collective grade. you had mark in your group. how could you even for a second worry about getting a passing grade.
sighing out of relief you sat down next to wonyoung who called you over while you were walking towards your original seat “girl, maybe staying in a group with these two wasn’t such a bad idea after all.. you outshined the rest of the class I’m sad for the people going after you” she says “really? you didn’t think it was messy?” you ask. anyone could tell how uncoordinated you guys were. “not really no, sometimes it sounded like a bit.. i don’t know- like you guys haven’t practiced enough? but i assure you it was barely noticeable” she says as you sigh out of relief again “and by the way you and yujin were craaaaazy i got so hyped up” you say complimenting the both of them while they thank you. being so engrossed into the conversation you almost miss haechan calling you over telling you that you need to regain your seat because “professor said so.”
So after briefly nodding at them, you tiptoed around the classroom to sit next to your friend, once again. “ i lied by the way. the teacher didn’t say shit he’s still in his ‘mark haze’. i just wanted you to sit next to me” haechan says as you laugh at his absurdity. man you were going to miss sharing a class with him.
Some time later all the groups had passed and even though he wasn’t allowed to, the teacher assured every student that they had all passed his class. He really wasn’t allowed to say this but the minute mark asked he told the class. You weren’t complaining tho. Maybe you even understood him a little.
Getting out of the classroom after the teacher dismissed you, you felt yourself engulfed in a hug “are you less stressed out now? I know you worried about getting a passing grade but we did it!!!” haechan said while letting go of you “yea dude! I’m lowkey glad this is over.. I’ll miss sharing a class with you tho” you say back “should we go out to celebrate?” you hear mark say. For a second you genuinely forgot he was there. In your defense, he was standing on the side not making any noise so he was fairly easy to forget about.
You could feel his awkwardness radiating off of him and almost felt bad. In truth you forgave him a long time ago (that’s kind of a lie). You understood how whatever mental headspace he was in was turning him into an asshole and as the patient lenient girl you were, you couldn’t pretend to not understand. But you still decided to milk the anger because you knew you were patient (especially with mark). The way he spoke to you does not deserve your understanding. He needed to practically beg on his knees for you to even crack a smile at him. And you were making sure he understood that.
“I think I’m good actually! you guys go ahead tho” you reply. “cmonnnn, it won’t be fun without you, do you know how long it has been since the three of us hung out together?” haechan says grabbing the sleeve of your shirt throwing himself onto you “i wonder why it’s been so long” you say in a fake pensive state that made haechan laugh and mark scratch the back of his neck out of uneasiness. “well don’t involve me in your business, I didn’t do shit and I just want to hang out with my two friends.. I don’t see why I need to suffer the consequences of this” haechan says slightly laughing “oh right because you texting me about it repeatedly was not you being involved in said business?”you reply “touché. still tho, please?” haechan says (he then proceeds to threaten you, then almost gets on his knees to beg, so you agree)
after what felt like the most awkward lunch ever you guys stepped out of the restaurant in silence. not for long tho….cause yk….haechan. “I’ll get going guys, have fun” haechan says aggresively winking at mark trying to be discreet. you could see the whole thing but whatever. “I’ll get going too. bye!!” you say and before you could even turn around to leave haechan desperately yelled “NO- wait. i mean. mark wanted to say something i think” hyuck says still winking at mark but now pointing to the both of you with his chin trying to convey a message to mark that he seemingly did not get
“huh?? oh OH! yes i was gonna ask if we could talk?” mark asks you “nah, im good. bye!!” you say turning around and walking away soon after you heard someone run after you and grab your arm “wait. look, I know what he did was shitty and I know he doesn’t deserve your understanding but please hear him out? Like you guys were so close before don’t you think the friendship is worth salvaging?” haechan says still holding onto your arm “hyuck i sigh i don’t know okay? would it not be pathetic of me to hear him out when he shut me down so harshly last time i tried to communicate?” you ask. no matter how much you liked the man you needed to set standards up for yourself, you deserved respect. How are people meant to respect you if you don’t respect yourself? “i get that. truly. but please hear him out? you literally won’t ever have to face him afterwards” hyuck says while you nod and walk back to where mark was standing.
“should we go to my place to talk?” you say. you weren’t going to have this conversation in public that is for sure “my place is right there. it would save us the walk i guess but we can also go to yours if you prefer” mark says to which you shake your head telling him his place was fine.
Entering mark’s studio for the first time, the place really suited him. From the few art piece he used to decorate his wall to his keyboard in the corner of his room right next to his messy desk and even messier bed, hell even the dishes were mark coded.
“man I’m sorry, I forgot i hadn’t cleaned…. we should’ve gone to your place this is not how you visiting my studio for the first time was supposed to go” he says and you shake your head. he guided you to his small couch in his living room. as you sat down you saw in the corner of the room this pretty bouquet of lilies, man what bitch did he have over?? you knew damn well mark doesn’t buy flowers for himself so those were a gift. You guessed it wasn’t from any of his friends because they would never. These had to be from yunjin. The moment you realized it, you swore you built up a little more resentment.
“I’m sorry.” mark says handing you a glass of water; he was gonna go straight into it i guess. “i know. you’ve been saying that for the past week. I’m just here because I want to know why” you reply. “I- okay fine. I owe it to you, just, please don’t make fun of me okay?” mark says fidgeting with his fingers as you nod. “Things were going really great and I really enjoyed spending time with you and getting to know you and texting you and stuff and so because i liked you- too much I think, I had this huge slap of reality in the face like man okay this is going great but you’re going to fuck it up and then she’ll find you weird and never talk to you ever again and then you’ll be miserable because you’re such a loser. So it became a lot and I got anxious and I was like ‘I’m not gonna fuck it up if I speak less’ and that speaking less… well… it turned into me ghosting you. Then I realized and I felt guilty but I couldn’t just talk to you normally after ghosting you for days and then you sent me the texts and I was so frustrated at myself so I took it out on you. And i felt bad like I knew what I was doing was wrong but I was just in too deep and then donghyuck texted me and I was also mean but anyway. I’m not trying to make excuses for myself I just want to explain everything to you. I’m really really sorry tho” mark says not having enough courage to look at you.
“you like me?” you say. You admit everything he said after was kind of a blur “no i mean yea but I ugh I didn’t want to tell you like this or at all man I’m so sorry I’m so stupid” mark replies clearly frustrated. “ you can’t do this to me mark” you reply “I know I’m sorry I didn’t mean for it to come out I’m sorry” he says “this is fucked man, you flirt with me, ghost me and all of that because you like me??” you say to mark as he nods you burst out laughing. mark is very confused tho. “I feel…so conflicted right now man I can’t tell if I want to kiss you or punch you in the face. Was it not obvious I liked you?? If you liked me that bad couldn’t you have just confessed?? man you had me stressed for weeks im” you say laughing because what the fuck man
“you like me?” mark asks “yes. man I’ve been liking you for so long this is so ridiculous.. I used to have a hallway crush on you that’s why I stared at you during the first music class… and then when we became closer I started liking you… like deadass. when you replied to chenle ‘ew’ I wanted to kill myself” you say as mark gasps “THAT’S WHY?? I genuinely believed your lie woah.. also man I wanted to kill chenle because shut up like mind your business don’t air mine out on twitter like this” mark replies laughing. “what about yunjin tho?” you ask “what about her?” he says. “well isn’t there some sort of thing going on between you and her?? the bouquet right there screams everything but platonic” you reply “what?? no I don’t like her I like you. matter of fact the bouquet is for you I was going to give it to you after music class but pussied out and left it home before since I wasn’t sure if you hated me or not” mark says getting up to fetch the bouquet for you. “oh. thanks. they’re really pretty. They’re my favorite flowers did you know?? Also I can’t believe you like me.. that’s crazy. I’m still pissed at you lowkey” you say. “Yea we talked about it when you gave me my bouquet.. also you really didn’t know? I mean who do you think 200 is about? I thought you would get it” he says laughing. you hit him (not harshly of course) because how dare he imply that you’re slow??
“despite you being mad at me… will you let me be your boyfriend? I’ll beg if I have to” mark asks “i guess… you’ll have to do some serious groveling tho… I don’t want my friends to know I forgave you so easily” you reply “man you’re harsh.. I guess?? be a little more enthusiastic you have a boyfriend now. also yea your friends are scary, especially renjun I got so startled like… this is not the renjun I met” your boyfriend says laughing. “I’M HARSH???? sorry I didn’t want to jump up and down, i already know I’m dramatic don’t want to hear it again” you reply to which mark says touché.
“Can I kiss you?” your boyfriend asks “of course you’d be a dork about it” you reply laughing at him. he quickly shut you up. You were partly shocked because one, you were kissing the man you’re extremely down bad for and two, you didn’t think he had it in him to shut you up with a kiss. Feeling his smile against your lips he pulled away “didn’t think I’d do that did you?” he asked. you didn’t have the words so you shook your head no. What the fuck happened to dorcus lee? And before you could remove his hand that had been grabbing your chin, mark leaned in again to steal another kiss. you swore you felt lightheaded. Not enough to let him away with it tho. So you put each one of your arms around his shoulders, leaned closer and deepened the kiss.
And maybe, just maybe you guys ended up kissing for a while afterward….only maybe though!!
51. it's over
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notes: guys... this is officially the end of an era... I'm literally so sad to see it go I'll miss uploading sooooooo much. I want to sincerely thank everyone who took the time to read this story and even more if you took the time to interact with it. I hope the end is satisfactory enough for you guys and I hope that you enjoyed the ride as much as I did. Thank you again, this has been nothing but fun!! I'll miss down bad very much! happy read!!!!!!
taglist: @imsiriuslyreal @iscocohere @simpforarmihn @replayenthusiast @lovm4rk @youreintheclubb @polarisjisung @sour-chaos @jising-jisang-jisung @aerivrs @multifandomania @tiddygang2020 @roseangelxfuma @skepvids @morkiee @yangasm @artstaeh @pussyslayerhd @bacons-thighs @bugcattie @leefullsun @jkslvsnella @alethea-moon @marvelahsobx @haechansbbg @katsukis1wife @m1dn1ghtv1olet @winuvs @n0hyuck @whats-my-question @dojaejunging @hibernatinghamster @user7520 @starwonb1n @lostinneocity @miniature-tragedy @llearlert @haezyhyuck @inosfavgf @bluesinfinities @calumsfringe @cigarettesafterjae @defzcl @delfdiary @minkyuncutie @bunnyjaycheoluwu @sofix-hc7 @nosungluv @anonymousmuffinbear @the-swageyama-tobiyolo @amrqxz @luvtyunn @haenahc @slayhaechan @yutterfly @tywritesstuff
#mark lee#nct mark#mark smau#mark lee smau#mark x reader#mark x y/n#mark x you#mark texts#nct dream#nct smau#nct dream smau#renjun#jeno#haechan#jaemin#chenle#jisung#nct#nct dream texts#down bad#hyuckswoman#nct x y/n#nct x you#nct x reader#nct texts
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Eloise Bridgerton being an absolute mood:
and Cressida's reaction of 'this girl is so weird, but I'm into it??? Wait am I into this??'':
#i was so sad that no one had made gifs of this moment#that i simply made one myself#i just love this almost smile cressida has here#like she can't believe eloise would just say and do this sort of thing#which kind of also adds to what she says in a later episode about eloise being courageous#she means this; eloise just being unapologetically herself without caring about whats appropriate#something cressida doesn't have the freedom to do (because she lacks the family support eloise has) but probably wishes she could#i love finding these little moments bc you can interpret so much from them even though they're only seconds long#yes i am autistic why do you ask?#eloise bridgerton#cressida cowper#creloise#bridgerton#bridgerton s3#bridgerton 3x02#gifs#my gifs#(also i don't know how to gif i did my best with what gimp can do)#bc id rather die than using something adobe makes
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illicit affairs - part five | r.c
summary:
“That’s emotional manipulation.”
“I’m aware, precious,” Rafe said with a grin, toeing his shoes off. “I’m getting in the water and I’m not leaving you out here by yourself. So you’re going to take your clothes off and getting in there with me, or I will carry you into the water.”
“How are those the only two options?”
OR; Topper and Kelce are love sick, Rafe is being a little TOO PDA and you're just trying to keep it together
pairing: rafe cameron x reader
warnings: heavy make out sesh in the water
word count: 3,7k
author's note: okay, why was this only 1k this morning wtf. after a week of break, rafe and precious are back! happy reading!!! <3
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pt. five: "make sure nobody sees you leave"
“Are you coming to the party tonight?” Rafe asked as he tugged his shirt on when you returned from the bathroom.
It was a couple of days after… Your friendship had changed. You said changed, but it didn’t really feel like there was a huge shift in how you saw each other. Rafe still treated you the same, like you were only his best friend. You still loved him. And yet, you continued to have casual sex with him.
The more days that passed where this friends with benefits thing was ongoing, the more you were struggling. You felt selfish for continuing this, knowing exactly how damning your feelings for him were. At the same time, you told yourself that this hadn’t even been your idea in the first place, so how were you being selfish? However, you doubted that Rafe would’ve suggested this arrangement if he had known how you felt about him.
“The pogue party? At the bone yard?”
You sat down at your vanity, glancing at Rafe through the mirror while you picked up a hairbrush, fixing your hair. Getting your hair pulled during sex really got you going, but you always wondered if it was worth it to untangle it after (it was).
“That’s the one.”
“Since when do you like going to the boneyard?” you asked skeptically. Rafe stepped to the vanity next to you, fixing his hair in his reflection.
“I don’t know,” he replied, ruffling his hair with his fingers a little, before giving his head a shake to make his hair fall just like he wanted it to. “I like to see how the other side is slumming it.”
You scoffed, whacking him gently with your hairbrush before laying it down on the table.
“Top and Kelce coming too?”
“They ever turn a party down?” Rafe asked with a grin. You rolled your eyes at him, knowing you were getting roped into this no matter if you wanted to or not.
“Fine,” you sighed. “But I gotta take care of some stuff for my parents for the Spring Fling today, so I’ll just join after. I’ll text you.”
“A’ight, see you later precious.”
Running his hand through your hair - a gesture that made you feel like a child - Rafe exited your bedroom, leaving you to glower at the mirror, hand reaching up to straighten out your hair again. Ever since you had told Rafe to not call you precious during sex, it seemed like he was doing it even more than not. Yes, he used your name during sex, but whenever you weren’t at it? Precious this, precious that. It was like Rafe was rubbing your face in it, like he kept wanting to remind you that you were his best friend, still. Despite the circumstances.
“I can get you the darker peonies if you like.”
Serena’s gentle voice cut through your thoughts and you lifted your head, raising a questioning brow. You were on your second to last errand of the day, a little stop by at the flower shop to pick out the flowers for the Spring Fling. To say that you were distracted was an understatement.
“Hm?”
“You seemed to scrutinize the flowers, I can get another color.”
“Oh no,” you quickly said, quickly trying to appease her. “Sorry, got a lot on my mind. This color is perfect.”
Serena beamed at you and wrapped the flowers up in small bundles, presenting it to you. “So I was thinking one bundle per table with clear vases.”
“Yes, that’s perfect,” you replied with a nod.
“You said 24 tables, right?”
Quickly checking your notes, you confirmed the number with her and Serena jotted down her notes.
“Alright, perfect. We’ll deliver them straight to the country club on the morning of the Spring Fling.”
“Great, thanks Serena!”
She wrapped the small bouquet in white wrapping paper, offering it to you with a smile. “Here, take it. Hope it helps with whatever’s on your mind.”
You gave Serena a sheepish smile, accepting the bouquet. “Thanks. I’ll see you around.” With a small wave, you exited the flower shop, heading to your car. Depositing the bouquet on the passenger’s seat, you got into the driver’s seat and leaned your head on the steering wheel for a second, allowing yourself a few moments to decompress.
“Ugh,” you groaned, rubbing the bridge of your nose. You had thought keeping yourself busy would stop you from overthinking, but instead, it just added more stress. One last stop, you thought to yourself as you turned the key in your ignition, driving towards the country club. Luckily, going over the seating arrangement with the event coordinator Avery didn’t take long, because your mother had sent over the floor plan a few days prior. All you had to do was go over the decorations and the menu for the Spring Fling. After taking care of the last details, you decided to grab dinner at the club as well since you were already there. By the time you got home, it was nearly ten and you were absolutely wiped. You put the flowers in some water, before you let yourself fall face down on your bed, sighing softly, feeling the stress melt from your limbs.
“How is this the first time I can relax today?” you muttered to yourself into your blankets.
Your peace was short-lived, however, as your phone started ringing not soon after. With a groan, you reached for it, fishing it out of your purse.
“What?” you said into the phone after picking up, not even bothering to look at the caller ID. You knew who it was.
“When are you going to be here?”
You sighed at the sound of Rafe’s voice. He still sounded sober enough, and you could hear people speaking in the background. Carefully, you rubbed your eyes with the pad of your finger, as to not smudge the mascara.
“I just got home,” you started. “I-”
“No precious, you’re not cancelling on me,” Rafe groaned into the phone. The sound of his footsteps turned from soft sand, to hard, crunching gravel. The noise of chattering people reduced; Rafe must have walked up to the main street. Turning on your back, you stared at the ceiling, waiting until he got to wherever he wanted to go.
“Don’t make me come get you,” he then said.
“Is that a threat?”
“It’s a promise.”
You contemplated actually staying in, unsure if he would really come get you. Then you remembered how stubborn Rafe could be, and how he usually didn’t drive after drinking, but just out of spite, he’d do it.
“Fine,” you relented, sitting up with a frown on your face. “I’ll be there soon. Don’t do anything stupid until I get there.”
“Y’know I can’t promise you that, precious,” Rafe drawled and you only rolled your eyes.
“See you in a bit.”
Getting up, you let out a sigh, running a hand through your hair. “Business as usual,” you said to yourself, walking towards your closet to get yourself a change of clothes because there was no way you were showing up at the boneyard party on the Cut wearing your new dress. About twenty minutes later, you were on the beachside on the Cut, slowly rolling to a stop on the curb of the main street that led to the boneyard. As you turned the engine off and grabbed your purse, exiting the car, Rafe was already walking towards you, slipping his phone into his pocket.
“I was about to come get you, what took you so long?” Rafe asked in greeting.
“Did you expect me to teleport here?” you asked dryly, putting your keys in your purse. “And I had to change.”
“Oh, for me? You shouldn’t have.”
Rafe wrapped an arm around your shoulder, snickering when you swatted his arm away. While the two of you walked down to the boneyard, he updated you on what you had missed so far: Kelce saw his crush with a girl, and promptly decided to get hammered, Scarlet drove her father’s Porsche into the bushes (it was still parked there), and Topper was sitting on the lifeguard’s watch tower because apparently Sarah was here with her Pogue friends. And John B of course.
“I hope he’s still there,” Rafe then added with a grimace.
“You left Top by himself??”
“What? No! Kelce is with him.”
“Ugh, Rafe!” you groaned, unwinding yourself from his arm, bypassing the party around the bonfire to head straight to the watch tower, with Rafe hot on your heels. You stopped when you reached it, staring up the ladder, hesitant, as you heard Kelce’s voice float down from the deck.
“You’re not planning on going up there, are you?” Rafe asked, his arm brushing your shoulder as he leaned into you.
“It can hold four of us,” you replied, grabbing the railing to climbing up the ladder.
The previous watch tower had been replaced after hurricane Agatha hit the outer banks; the new one had a shiny ladder, and a big deck with a roof over it. It was big enough to hold four people now, perfect for you. You heard Rafe mutter something under his breath before he followed you up the ladder.
“- and I’m just saying… I mean, it’s not like I am fully out of the closet either, but it doesn’t mean I’m parading around with a girl,” Kelce said indignantly as you finally reached the deck to see Top leaning on the railing, his feet dangling from the side and Kelce next to him, holding onto an almost empty cup with the way the liquid was sloshing inside of it. Kelce paused his rant to take a sip of his drink, his eyes widening when he saw you. “Precious!”
“Hey guys,” you called out, pulling yourself up to the deck and carefully walked over to the two boys, sitting down next to Topper.
“Hey Presh,” the blonde boy said, acknowledging your presence without taking his eyes off of the distance.
Oh dear.
“Why are we hiding?”
“I’m not hiding.”
Rafe let out a snort as he settled down next to you, only shrugging his shoulders when you glared at him. Turning your attention back to Topper, you nudged his foot with his.
“Hey, this isn’t because of Sarah, is it?”
He didn’t reply.
Glancing at Kelce for help was no use - he had turned to stare the bonfire. If you had to guess, he was trying to spot his crush. You glancing to the side, raising your eyebrows at Rafe, but he only raised his hands defensively.
Ugh, boys.
“I thought you were over Sarah,” you said carefully, knowing this was a sensitive topic. Topper sighed, running a hand through his hair.
“So did I, okay? I didn’t think it would feel like such a punch in the gut to see her with John B,” he huffed, shaking his head a bit. “Do you think I want to feel like this when she has clearly moved on?”
You winced. Topper had always been the romantic one in your group, and Sarah had been his first serious girlfriend. While you wished he would forget Sarah, especially considering there was no way back, you understood why it was so hard for him.
“Listen. I know this sucks right now, and I know you thought that you and Sarah were gonna last, but there’s no use in dwelling on it anymore, Top. Just because your first girlfriend wasn’t the one, doesn’t mean that every one of your relationship is doomed to fail.”
Glancing over to the bonfire, you watched as Sarah was sitting between John B’s legs, talking with Kiara her face illumniated by the fire, not a care in the world.
“And I know it doesn’t feel good to see her with him, but it’s like exposure therapy, right?”
Topper scoffed, but a small smile was playing on his lips. “I don’t know about that, precious.”
“Come on,” you heckled him, nudging him with your shoulder. “How would you get over her if you pretend she doesn’t exist? Kildare’s not that big, you’re bound to bump into her every now and then. Better start healing now, than later.”
Topper made a small noise, but you could tell that his shoulders were less tense and Rafe leaned over to squeeze your knee, his way of telling you a job well done.
“You ready to get back to the party?” he asked Topper, but he snorted, shaking his head.
“Definitely not. I need… To get out of my head.”
“I bet a swim would definitely do you some good,” Kelce chimed in.
Rafe and you snickered, but Topper raised an eyebrow, as if he was actually considering it.
“Top, you can’t be serious,” Rafe then said. “It’s the middle of the night.
“And I bet the water is super refreshing right now,” Topper said, suddenly getting to his knees, standing up. He started climbing down the ladder with a grin on his face, and Kelce was quick to follow him. You exchanged a look with Rafe, who looked about as concerned as you felt right now.
“I think we should go after them,” you said, and Rafe nodded, the both of you getting off of the watch tower. By the time you were on solid ground again, Topper was already standing at the shore, shoes off and toes in the wet sand. Kelce was standing next to him, tugging his shirt off over his head.
“Top, I don’t know if this is such a good idea,” you breathed out when you finally caught up with him, Rafe nodding next to you.
“But I know it’s going to make me feel so much better to jump into the water right now…” Topper said, pausing.
“I mean,” Rafe started, rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s not like we can actually stop you. And if it makes him feel better,” he added, glancing to you. You gave him a hard look.
“Fine,” you sighed, “go ahead,” you told Topper, making a shooing motion with your hand. Might as well get it over with.
“You know what would make me feel so much better, though?” Topper asked, taking his shirt off. “If my best friends joined me.”
“What?”
“Come on,” Topper said, adding his shorts to the pile of clothes, head turning towards the water. “You wouldn’t leave me hanging, would you?”
He walked backwards towards the water, Kelce following him with a grin on his face. Rafe raised his eyebrow at you, but you resolutely shook your head, crossing your arms over your chest.
“I’m not going into the water, are you crazy?”
“You wouldn’t get into the water even though it will cheer Topper up?” Rafe asked, tugging his shirt off. Momentarily, you were distracted by his bare chest, but your eyes quickly flitted up before he noticed.
“That’s emotional manipulation.”
“I’m aware, precious,” Rafe said with a grin, toeing his shoes off. “I’m getting in the water and I’m not leaving you out here by yourself. So you’re going to take your clothes off and getting in there with me, or I will carry you into the water.”
“How are those the only two options?” you asked indignantly, though you could feel your resolve weakening.
“You wouldn’t leave a friend in need, right?”
You groaned, tipping your head back in annoyance. “I hate you,” you muttered, taking your shirt off and dropping your purse into the sand. You could feel Rafe’s eyes on you as you stripped down to your underwear, and you gave him a look, putting your hair up in a bun.
“Stop staring. You’ve seen all of it before.”
“Doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate it,” Rafe said with a grin, removing the last of his clothes. “Come on.”
He grabbed you by the hand and dragged you towards the ocean, where Topper and Kelce were already waist deep, yelling at each other in between laughter. Your fingers were entangled with Rafe’s and it was windy; that was the only reason you were getting goosebumps. At least that was what you told yourself. You stepped towards the shore, where the water met the beach and suddenly, you froze, skidding to a stop. Rafe turned back to look at you when he felt a sudden resistance from your hand.
“What?”
“It’s so cold. I’m gonna freeze to death.”
“Precious,” Rafe said dryly, dropping your hand. “Just remember that you forced me to do this.”
“Wha-?”
The rest of the word got stuck in your throat when Rafe suddenly looped his arms under your knees, throwing you over his shoulder despite your shrieks and waded into the water.
“Rafe Cameron, I will actually murder you,” you threatened him, wincing as the cold water splashes on your skin.
“Please, as if you could ever live in a world without me,” Rafe retorted, shifting his arm so you wouldn’t slide off. You could hear Topper and Kelce cheer when you reached them and you only rolled your eyes. That was on you for being friends with boys. “You ready to hit the water?” Rafe asked, tapping your thigh, a little bit too high for your liking, considering you were trying to hide your friends with benefits thing from your friends.
“Not really, no.”
“Perfect.”
Grabbing you by the waist, Rafe slid you off his shoulders, right into the icy cold water. You shuddered, goosebumps going crazy and the glare you gave Rafe was deadly. Topper and Kelce applauded you, giving high fives to Rafe, and if it wasn’t for the infectious smile on Topper’s face, you’d be pissed.
“Alright, since we’re already here,” you sighed, rolling your shoulders, before dropping into the water up until your chin. The boys hollered as you shuddered, your teeth chattering until your body temperature acclimated to the cold water.
“You’re actually the worst,” you told your friends, swimming a few laps around them to keep yourself warm. The boys joked around, splashing each other with the freezing water, while you tried to keep yourself out of the splash zone, you were already wet enough as is. During all this, you felt Rafe’s eyes on you, but you knew that he wouldn’t actually do something with Kelce and Topper both present.
“Fuck, okay, I’m actually starting to feel my dick disappearing into my body,” Kelce said, rubbing his arms. He seemed to have sobered up, his lips trembling. “I gotta get out.”
“Me too,” Topper said, shuddering, following Kelce out of the water.
“You guys are pussies!” you yelled after them, as Rafe stayed rooted next to you. “At least get my towel out of my car!”
Topper waved his arm, acknowledging your demand as they hightailed it out of the water. Now it was just you and Rafe. Just perfect.
“Still cold?” Rafe asked, swimming over to you. Without noticing, you had gone into deeper water, your feet reaching the ground, but the water lapped at your shoulders as you kept yourself afloat.
“No,” you replied with narrowed eyes. He snickered, arm reaching out around your waist, pulling you close. “What are you doing?”
“Warming you up, what does it look like?”
His hands were on your hips, bodies flush and out of reflex, your legs wrapped around his waist. Your cheeks heated, despite the cold water and your arms found his waist.
“What if they see us?” you huffed, glancing back to the beach to see Topper and Kelce put their clothes on, before rummaging in your purse, presumably to find your keys.
“They’re way too far to make out anything,” he muttered, hitching you higher on his waist to nose along your neck, his lips hot on your skin.
“Rafe!” you hissed, trying to hold back a moan as he gently sucked on your sensitive skin on your neck.
“What? Only doing my part in keeping you warm.”
You huffed, grabbing his chin to tilt it up, so you could press your lips on his. He groaned against your lips as you kissed, and you slipped your tongue into his mouth. Lazily, the two made out in the middle of the ocean in the darkness, like there was only the two of you existing. Shifting in his arms, you accidentally created some friction between the two of you, and you could feel Rafe’s hardening cock against your wet panties.
“Fuck, you’re killing me, precious.”
Your heart sunk at the nickname and you leaned back, opening your mouth to say something, when you caught movement on the beach out of the corner of your eye.
“Shit, Top and Kelce are back,” you hissed, pushing Rafe away from you, your feet slowly floating back to the wet sandy underground.
“We got you the towel!” Topper yelled from the beach, waving a white towel in the darkness.
“Come on, let’s go!”
You exhaled deeply, tucking your hair back, hoping you didn’t look like you were feeling, glancing over at Rafe. His forehead was creased, and you could tell he was annoyed as he pushed his hair back. Probably pissed that you were just cock-blocked.
“Are you all good to get out of the water?” you asked, gesturing to his lower body. Rafe raised an eyebrow at you, before waving you off, voice tight.
“Yeah. Don’t worry about me. Let’s go.”
Rafe swam towards the shore, and you weren’t too far behind, until you were wading out of the water. You accepted the towel from Topper, wrapping it around your shoulders, trying to warm yourself up, the cold air being even worse after you came out of the water. Rafe shook his arms out, water droplets everywhere, making Kelce yelp when he was hit. You lifted your towel, inviting Rafe in.
“Come here.”
Rafe glanced at you, pausing for a second, before he sighed, trudging over to you. You handed him one corner of the towel, and the two of you huddled under the towel, trying to get warm and dry at the same time. Topper raised his eyebrows at you, shaking his head in amusement.
“You really are two peas in a pod, huh?”
“Oh you know us,” Rafe snorted. “Best friends.”
Ouch.
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author's note: ouch indeed... thoughts?
#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron#rafe#rafe x reader#rafe x you#rafe cameron x you#rafe cameron fanfiction#rafe cameron smut#rafe cameron imagine#rafe cameron fic#rafe cameron fanfic#drew starkey#outer banks fanfiction#obx#obx fanfiction
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Hold Onto Me
Azriel x reader
Warnings: Smut (18+), Spanking, P in V sex, Oral (m recieving) kinda switch Az, kinda switch reader, Safe words, praise, breeding kink.
WC: 4K
You had been squirming in anticipation all day. It had been a small mistake, just a simple slip of your tongue. Cassian and you were in one of your usual arguments over something silly. Nothing serious just enough to make your heart race a little with anger. Azriel had stepped in, trying to calm down the both of you as it was slowly shifting to something more intense.
“Shut up.” Flew out of your mouth before you could catch it. You gasped when you processed the words you had spoken to your mate. Cassian tried to chime in but you had lost all your fire. Azriel had a dangerous smirk on his face as he walked up to you, he grabbed your chin in his hand and tilted it up slightly.
“Wanna repeat that, doll?” To anyone else it would seem teasing, just a simple call out for being snappy with your mate. But that little glint behind his eyes let you know that you were in for it later. Your thighs pressed together slightly as you tried desperately to hide how turned on you were getting by those simple words. You licked your lips and cleared your throat.
“I’m sorry, Az. I didn’t mean-”
“I know you didn’t, it’s okay.” He gave you a quick peck on the forehead before removing his hand from your face. You knew better. Knew the only reason you weren’t over his knee right now is because Cas was in the room. And you tried not to think about the way Azriel’s eyes immediately hardened when Cas mumbled something about getting something to eat.
He was on you the moment the other male left the room. Mouth dangerously close to your ear.
“Once I get back from training, I want you naked on the bed. Can you do that for me, pretty girl?” His voice dripped with a dominance that had your thighs clenching again. You nodded, which only earned you a sharp bite to your earlobe. You whined pathetically at the action.
“Words.”
“Yes, yes I can do that.” Your voice was shaky. The urge to jump his bones right then and there was very strong all of a sudden. You turned in his hold and pulled his lips to yours. He let out a deep laugh against your lips. He indulged you for a few seconds before he tapped your face delicately to get you to pull away. You whined again which only earned you a poke to your nose.
“Don’t pout. Be good for the rest of the day and maybe I’ll go easy.” He was lying and you knew it. But you agreed anyway. He gave you one more quick kiss before he walked after Cassian for their afternoon training session.
You were twitching for the rest of the day, trying to find anything to distract yourself from the promise Azriel had made earlier. The whole house had been tidied up. The sheets replaced on your bed, your closet reorganized. Anything to distract you from the downright filthy thoughts of your mate. You knew your want must be flowing strong down the bond because you received calming strokes throughout the day. But it did nothing to change the pit in your stomach.
Azriel could have winnowed right into your shared bedroom but you heard the front door open and close. You remembered his earlier words and scrambled to the edge of the bed. Throwing your clothes into some random corner of the room. You sat patiently as you heard intentionally heavy footsteps down the hall. You felt your pulse quicken as they got closer and closer to the door. This was part of the game, you knew that Azriel could be completely silent if he so desired. But he knew how much you loved the anticipation, the way you knew what was coming and could do nothing to stop it. It just added to the fun of it for you.
He slowly opened the door, granting you a few extra seconds if you were still getting ready. He gave you a wide smile as he saw you sitting on the edge of the bed. Just liked he asked. He stalked over to you, eyes not leaving yours.
“Good girl. Thank you for listening.” You wanted to purr at the praise. His hand combed gently through your hair and you leaned into the touch, eyes fluttering closed at the weight on your head. He made a content noise when you looked back up at him before he gave you a slight frown. “Now, can you explain what you did wrong earlier?” You nodded
“I told you to shut up.”
“And why was that bad?”
“Because I shouldn’t be mean to you. Just because I’m mad at Cassian doesn’t give me the right to snap at you.”
“Exactly. I wouldn’t do it to you.” He pondered for a second, looking above you.
“I think 15 spanks should be enough, don't you think?” It wasn’t really a question. Fifteen was nothing compared to what would happen if you really got into trouble.
“Yes sir.” You said, voice crisp and clear. You were shifting as you thought about it. He smiled and pulled on your hands for you to stand up in front of him. His hands dragged up and down your sides, so lightly it almost tickled. You held back the laugh that built and tried to keep a straight face. A yelp left you as he pulled you down across his lap in one fluid motion. You instantly relaxed against him as he ran a hand down the back of your thigh.
“Do you want to count this time?” He asked, giving you the choice because he knew sometimes you just wanted to soak up the feeling. You nodded and he gave you a little pinch where your thigh met your ass. Your foot kicked up behind you and you didn’t wait for him to speak before you spoke your yes out loud. He hummed before you felt his hand leave your skin. Your whole body tensed in anticipation.
You nearly jumped off his lap as his hand came down to return to his previous actions, not at all the harsh spank you had been waiting for. He laughed lightly before you felt his touch leave again. This time you heard his hand cut through the air, legs kicking out behind you as you let out a mix between a yelp and a moan. He paused waiting for the count. He always gave you a few moments with the first couple to find your rhythm.
“One.” You sigh. His hand rubs at the tingling skin. You sunk further down into his lap, shoulders relaxing even more.
His hand met your ass time and time again.Your hands desperately clutching at the blanket underneath you. Trying to stifle the lewd screams that were being ripped from your mouth.You reached your hands back to grab onto Azriel, anything to help keep you grounded. Tears were streaming down your face as the pain tingled through your entire body. He grabbed your hand, pinning it to the center of your back, tracing light circles on your palm that contrasted the echoing smacks he drew out from his other hand. You shifted your hips, grinding on his lap. The hand holding your wrist went to tangle in your hair, pulling you head back to meet his eyes. He took one look at your tear stained cheeks and something shifted in his eyes. you was a look you haven't seen from him, something that made me want to wrap your arms around him. And before you could even question the look, you heard that one word tumble from his mouth. Siphon. He released your hair and you rolled off of his lap. He couldn’t meet your eyes.
“Az?” you asked, standing in front of him. it was hard to breathe, suddenly so worried about you mate. He shook his head lightly, like he was shaking an image out of his head.
“I can’t, doll. I…those tears.” He was stammering, hands shaking slightly. you gently stuck out your hand and stuck your finger under his chin, begging him to look at you.
“Do you want me to get dressed, then we can talk about it?” you reached for the blanket that was on the edge of the bed but he caught your wrist.
“Still want you. Just…”
“Just not rough?” He nodded his head.
“If that’s okay. Gods I know you’ve been looking forward to this all day.”
“Sh. It’s more than okay. It’s no fun if you’re uncomfortable. This always goes both ways baby.” He let out a heavy breath, his shoulders relaxing like he had been scared of your reaction. you let your hand drift up from his chin to his hair, lightly combing the long strands between your fingers.
“Can I touch you?” your voice is soft. He nods and you climb back onto his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck. His thumbs come up to trace the tear marks on your cheeks. Seeing his eyes go far away,
“Are you sure? We can just cuddle.” You ask one more time.
“No. I just.” He pauses, chewing on the words. “Just don’t want to be in charge. I just want to love you”
you giggle at his shy tone. “Of course baby.” you nuzzle your nose against his cheek, peppering small kisses in its wake. you place them along his jaw, his forehead and cheeks. Until you reach his mouth. The kiss starts off sweet, still testing the waters to make sure he really is okay with this. But when he wraps his hands around the fat of your hips, pulling you closer to him. You trace your tongue on the outside of his lips. He doesn’t hesitate to part his mouth for you. He meets you breath for breath and you hear a groan rumble deep in his chest as you move your hips in time with the kiss. You put a little more pressure in the motion and his hands only grip your hips harder. Fingers sinking into the flesh, nails biting ever so slightly.
“Please.” He whimpers out between kisses. You nip his bottom lip and then pull your face away from his. He is still clothed and it makes you blush slightly to realize that you're fully undressed in his lap.
“Can you take this off?” you ask, fingers toying with the edge of his shirt. He doesn’t say anything, just takes the fabric in his own hands and pulls it over his head. You're greeted with the sight of his gloriously toned body. You shuffle back on his lap far enough to dip your head down to kiss along his tanned skin. You let your tongue follow your lips, licking more than kissing. He moans as you run your tongue along the top of his waistband. His hips shift as he pulls at the ties of his pants, helping him tug them down his legs and they join the rest of our clothes on the bedroom floor.
You can’t help the hand that reaches out to brush across his angry red tip. A bead of pre-cum already dripping down. He hisses at the contact and arches his hips up to meet your hand. you don’t get to finish asking if he’s okay before he groans out his responding yes. you smile coyly at him as you sink down to your knees. He shuffles to the edge of the bed and spreads his legs, caging your shoulders in between them.
“Gentle baby. Please.” He pleads as you continue your soft kisses up and down his shaft. Already feeling drunk on the taste of him. Your name spews off his lips as you finally take him into your mouth, resisting the urge to take him all the way down in the first move. Your eyes screw closed at the feeling of him in your mouth. He’s heavy against your tongue, but the skin is smooth. You can feel every vein. You speed up without meaning to, getting lost in the taste of him. Your own moans mixing with his as you take him deeper and deeper. Building up to your nose brushing against his stomach. A chain of swears leaves his mouth as you swallow around him. His hand twists into your hair and you realize he’s pulling you off of him. You release him with a pop, a string of spit following your lips as you look up at him.
He pulls you off of your knees, pulling you back flush to his chest. His hands start tracing patterns on your skin as he trails his fingers up your thighs, legs wrapped around mine to keep them spread for him. you throw your head back when he runs two fingers up you slit, once, twice, collecting your wetness on them. He finally reaches the button on the top and rubs lazy, wide circles. your hips wreath against his slow strokes, mouth thrown open in a silent plea. As if sensing your thoughts, he sinks his fingers in oh so slowly. Groaning at the way your walls clench around his fingers.
“Such a good girl. Taking my fingers so well.” His words have moans tumbling out from your mouth, rising in pitch when he hits that special spot that he finds with such ease. you try to lift your hips but his legs keep me pinned to the couch. He doesn’t rush his movements, relashing in the sweet mewls leaving your lips.
“More. Gods, faster. Please” you babble and you feel the answering chuckle vibrate through you.
“Bear with me, pretty girl.” He says, keeping the same pace. His name is the only word you can get out of your mouth. Filling the room over and over again with the slick sound of his fingers pushing in and out of you. You can feel that sweet knot forming in your stomach, hands clutching to his arms trying to keep yourself grounded as your release races towards you. You use the grip on his hands to stop his movements. You whine slightly at the loss of contact, hips desperately trying to search for some friction but find the strength to pull his hand away from your aching cunt.
“I wanna come with you inside me.” You pant into his neck, eyes closed as you catch your breath. You’ve gone from wanting to needing your mate. You need to be close to him, see his face and feel him inside of you. “Can you do that for me baby?” Your words have him nodding against your back.
“How do you want me?” He asks immediately.
“On your back.” And he obliques, leaning back on his elbows as you straddle him. You shuffle your hips into place and throw your head back with his hard length nudges against your sensitive clit. You had wanted to tease him but that one motion had your hand reaching down to grasp him in your hands, lining him up with your aching hole. You gasp as you start to sink down, letting gravity do the work. His eyes are squeezed tight but you’re having none of it. You pause and use your hands to tap him lightly under his eyes.
“Let me see those eyes sweetheart.” You coo at him. His eyes flutter open and he gives you a lazy smile that makes your heart flutter. That’s all it takes for you to sink all the way down onto him, hips sitting flush against his. Both of you groan loudly as you sit and adjust to the way his tip is sitting against your cervix.
“Move. Please, princess.” He cries out, hips lifting slightly in attempts to jostle you.
“How can I say no when you ask so nicely.” You lean down to capture his lips as you slowly rise off of him, almost sliding all the way off before sinking all the way back down. You try to keep your movements slow and steady. Soaking in the sweet noises that were flowing out of Azriel’s mouth like water through a stream. Both of your lips brushing against the other but not truly kissing. Your movements start speeding up and he grabs your hips in his hands.
“Slow. I want to savor this.” You nod, brain not working enough to speak. You really do try to follow his words but he feels so good that you can’t help the way your hips speed up again. YOu hear him groan and before you can process it, he’s flipping you onto your back. Your hair draped over the edge of the bed, almost touching the ground. HE pauses inside of you, letting your eyes and body adjust to the new position.
“I told you to slow down, pretty girl.” He whispers into your ear, causing goosebumps to raise all over your body. Voice husky and strained.
“But it feels so good, Azzy. I just want to make my big, strong mate feel good.”
“Is that right?” You nod your response.
“What else do you think about me?” He asks, tone slightly shifting to the near taunting voice. But you can hear the need behind the question. The words he needs you to say to comfort him.
“That you’re the most beautiful male I’ve ever seen.” You whimper when he pulls his hips away from you, ever so slowly. YOu go to wrap your legs around his waist but his shadows keep them pinned in place. He tilts his head, willing you to continue. “Gods. How clever you are. YOu always know exactly what to say and how to make everyone listen to you.” He pushes back into you and you cry out, words dying on your tongue.
“Keep talking.” He pleads into your shoulder, head dipping down.
“I’m so lucky to have you as a best friend, as my husband, as my mate. Everyday I think that there isn’t a luckier person in all of Prythian because I get to wake up next to you… Az. gods please.” He gives you a particularly hard thrust that has you all but screaming. His teeth nip at the skin on your neck.
“Good job sweetheart.” He praises you and you heat from head to toe under his words. Glowing with his approval. He starts to move then. Not the frantic pace that your body is craving but in a way that you can feel every ounce of love he has for you in those movements. You feel it in the way his hazel eyes look down at you, wide and searching for your own to meet his. And you return everything you have back to him. You hold his gaze, sending all your love and pride down the bond. It’s like time has slowed around you, unable to focus on anything but the way he feels inside you. Ears deaf to even your own cries of pleasure. You can only soak in the way your name falls from his tongue, holding onto it like the precious gift it is. Overwhelmed with the pure love you feel for your mate, you don’t even notice the rising wave of your orgasm until it’s rushing white hot through you. Your back arches into him, pushing the two of you even closer. He mumbles words into your shoulder.
“I love you so much. I’ve never been this happy. Gods. You’re so perfect.” All spill out of his lips and into the sticky skin of your shoulder. Your nails are running up and down his back, breath heaving through your lungs and you pant underneath him. His hips are still moving at that same gentle pace. The slight stutter in his movements let you know he’s close. You pull his head up from your shoulder and lock eyes with him. At the same time as you lock your legs around his waist. He groans low in the back of his throat and grabs your thighs in his hands. He taps twice, urging you to release your hold. So you do, unable to do anything but whimper as he pushes your knees to your chest, feet resting on his shoulder. Seconds ago, you would have sworn it was impossible for him to get any deeper but he somehow was reaching new spots that had filthy moans and curses slipping from your lips. Your chest jiggled with each thrust of his hips, unable to meet his thrusts with the new position, you just had to take the pleasure he was giving you. You heard his answering groan when a particularly hard thrust had you clenching around his cock.
“Gonna fill up my pretty mate. Do you want that? To be filled with my babies.” You response was nothing but garbled sounds. A mix of yes, and please, and a broken version of his name. But it was enough for him to pull you close to him as he emptied himself inside of you. Giving you a few deep, slow thrusts, before he went to pull out. You stopped him, hands pressing onto the small of his back.
“Please, just need to keep feeling you.” You felt how heavy your eyes were, already threatening to close. But you didn’t want to lose the feeling of your mate just yet. He just grunts, staying fully sheathed inside of you.
“Can we move up, sweetheart?” He asks between his slow kisses he’s leaving all over your face. You hum your response and squeal as he shimmies up to the headboard, back leaning against the wood. He doesn’t pull out, just letting you sit on his lap still buried in between your legs. YOu relish the feeling every inch of your mate pressed against you and inside of you. For the second time tonight you feel tears well up in your eyes and you try to hide the sniffle that leaves you as your emotions get too strong. Your head is pushed up against his chest and his arms wrap around you, pulling you tighter to his body.
“Why are you crying, my pretty girl?”
“Good tears.” You sniffle, pulling away from his chest to look at him. He gives you a dopy smile and peppers soft kisses all along your face. “I love you so much.”
“I love you too. My sweet, smart, gorgeous mate.” He whispers against your skin. He pulls you off of his lap and you shutter at the feeling of his seed dripping out of you and onto your thigh. You sigh as he pulls you back down across his lap and goes to grab the menthol lotion he keeps by the bed. You feel your muscles start to relax under his firm motions. He gives you a little tap on your ass to let you know he’s done.
“Your turn.” You smile up at him and he just looks at you confused. You motion for him to flip over and he does.
“You safe worded.” You said like it was obvious.
“Sweetheart you dont-”
“Yes I do. I’m proud of you for letting me know you were uncomfortable so let me show you how much I am. Let me take care of you.” You dip your finger into the tub of lotion as you speak and he lets out a sigh as your hands go into the dip between his wings. They flare out slightly before dropping ever so slightly. You work circles into his skin, trying to get some of the knots out. He’s groaning underneath your touch and it has you giggling.
“Keep that up mister and you’re going to get a second round.” You say, not pausing the motion of your hands. He lets out an exaggerated moan that pulls another laugh from you. “Brat.” You giggle and he shifts his hips underneath you. You move your hands to his shoulders and before you know it, you're on your back with him over you.
“Now, what was this about a second round?” He asks and you only respond by pulling his lips down to meet yours.
Tags: @ninthcircleofprythian @daycourtofficial @milswrites @writingcroissant @readychilledwine @nocasdatsgay @sarawritestories
#acotar#acotar fanfiction#acosf#acomaf#azriel x reader#acowar#azriel acotar#azriel x you#a court of thorns and roses#azriel fluff#azriel smut#azriel shadowsinger smut#azriel spymaster#azriel shadowsinger#azriel fanfic#azriel#acotar azriel
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What are your thoughts/takes on Astarion's relationship with sex? How does that reflect on his relationship with Drow?
(Obvious disclaimer: this is just my opinion, and my goal is always to entertain myself - never to argue or be the most correct about canon interpretations or themes.)
Hm. So, something that I find very unique (and frankly, overlooked!) about Astarion's previews experiences, is that when speaking specifically about his M.O for luring marks for Cazador the majority of the encounters he seems to have had were not, primarily, "negative".
They weren't positive either, of course. There is no way around it: having sex against your will is rape. But in his case, the perpetrator was never inside the room. From the way he speaks of the people he slept with, he seems to hold a mixture of contempt and pity; but never anger; from the way he speaks of and with Sebastian, it even seems like, sometimes, perhaps in the early days of those 200 years he might have even allowed himself to indulge in small, brief attachments and hopes. Then, as fatigue settled in and the permanence of the situation hit him, I'm sure the motions became mechanized at best and agonizing at worst.
But I think whatever harm the experience has done to his sexuality or self-value, it's damage struck him tenfold in the concept of object permanence. Imagine it: throughout the course of two centuries, you are not allowed to form a connection with a single person who isn't damned to die later the same day. You never see the same face twice. You are never allowed to progress past impersonal first encounters. Astarion says he wants to be seen and known, but a reality that hurts almost more than being invisible is that there were probably thousands of people who would have loved to do that. But you ruined them as much as they ruined you.
I wholeheartedly believe that he was sick of sex, and that for decades to come there will be times when he still turns the lights off during the act, or, ideally, just says No Thank You and moves on, but the hypothetical that really haunts me is that other thing: the almost pavlovian association between sex and looming demise. That people are going to be taken away from you, so why bother being present?
This is a feeling he struggles with sorting through and vocalizing. And in turn, DU Drow often is under the assumption that this is all about sex, and about whether he truly wants it or not. This is yet another small theme in A Novel Experience but, in summary, for a while he still doubts Astarion's own agency to initiate or participate in it - this reduction of the issue as a matter of physical touch, while the big picture is much more complex.
And this does not always externalize in the far more palatably tragic "woe is me, everyone I love leaves" way. Sometimes Astarion still catches himself thinking of the ones he loves as disposable, and acting with due disregard for their lives like it's second nature.
But back on subject: he can have, does have, and likes sex. By finally being allowed to form a friendship and rapport with a sexual partner for whom he does not feel the need to perform to, he can finally enjoy the silly, the awkward, the gross and even the subpar aspects of sex with true intimacy; the anxiety sets after the fact, as he wonders about what comes next once you're out of his sight.
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Ok this is what I think the biopics will be like for each Beatle:
John will be so troubled but in a really charming way and Julian will be mentioned but briefly and they’ll make it seem like John was just too busy to be a present father (Paul will make up for it in a vomit inducingly cheesy way). His eating disorder, heroin addiction and other internal struggles (self-esteem, sexuality, maybe even gender,…) will go unmentioned or brushed over jokingly like haha he tossed Brian off, don’t we all at that age. He’ll be the cool and funny older brother & later genius who just couldn’t be confined within a band. They won’t have the guts to call his bullshit and therefore will automatically brush over his kinder and vulnerable sides. He’ll be reduced to a knock off version of the tortured artist blueprint. They’ll never pick up on his pathetic wet dog vibe
Paul will be the charming good guy who’s all in with the band. No mention of how he fucked over Jane and every other girl until Linda; he’ll be a musical genius, too, but in a prince of the people sort of way. They’ll loooove that he stopped eating meat, woke king!!!! Linda will be brushed over by making her into his soulmate wifey who finally helps the charming playboy with a heart of gold settle down. His depression and alcohol problem won’t be mentioned/reduced to feeling a little sad. He’ll be a little bossy sometimes but they won’t ever get it right how fucking annoying he could be. Straighter than a ruler. John’s brother, almost biologically. No homo. They’ll find a way to make the twink who fucked the entire population and had an ego bigger than Neptune into a straight feminist
George will be the indie underground smart Beatle and people on tik tok will start posting thirst traps of the actor with the caption “they don’t make em like this anymore” and then complain about real-George’s teeth. He’ll be so spiritual and smart and he won’t have an affair with his best friend’s wife at all and if he does it’ll be because of some spiritual insight, not because that man couldn’t keep it in his pants for 5 seconds. I’m deadly afraid of the colourful drug scenes where he’ll hallucinate god. He’ll be the perfect boyfriend and Pattie will be played by Sidney sweeney or something. They won’t take a side with the whole George Or Paul debate during the breakup, but George will be too focused on other things to want to stay in the Beatles. They won’t mention the three billion songs John&Paul deemed unworthy. They’ll never do the grudges my man held justice. No one could
Ringo will be the funny guy who luckily survived his childhood and found his passion through a kind nurse giving him his drumsticks. He’ll play an incredible drum solo at 8 years old on his hospital bed frame the first time he ever holds those sticks. He won’t be in gangs, he won’t beat his wife half to death, he won’t have drugs and alcohol problems. He’ll be peace and love from age 0. He’ll be slightly stupid and he’ll mention octopuses too much. They’ll never get it right how he was truly the eldest and how much his vote and opinion actually counted within the band and how much the boys wanted him in the band and admired him. He won’t be a sort of glue to the band. He won’t marry a teenager he met when she was 16 and he 22. He’ll be a weird version of Ken from the Barbie movie, his job will be Drum. They’ll flatten a severely nuanced and layered man to a sheet of paper with the word ‘beat’ on it
I am too afraid to even think about what they will do to Eppy
Oh and each and every one of them will have way too pretty teeth and I am already furious. I want them to have British men in the 1960s teeth. Give me British teeth and jerking off together
#mark my words people.#paul mccartney#the beatles#john lennon#george harrison#ringo starr#classic rock#beatles#richard starkey#brian epstein#beatles biopics#emmys thoughts
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