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stylesharrys · 3 days

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The Box | Part One [Boxerry]

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

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

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

WC: 19.6k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She nods. “I am.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She can’t be serious.

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

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

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

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

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

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

She takes the card and drives off.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I didn’t think you worked Mondays!”

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

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

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

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

“How are you feeling today?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Mary gasps. “Harry!”

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

“Hello, Gran.”

Oh, you’ve got to be fucking kidding.

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

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

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

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

He can see how much this pains her.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Harry huffs out a laugh.

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

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

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

“Because he didn’t leave it to me.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He grins. “You tried.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah. I’ll meet you guys later.”

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

“Hey.”

Y/N clears her throat. “Hi.”

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

“Are you closing?” She finally asks.

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

She raises an eyebrow. “Midnight fights?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Scouted?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She’s much more attractive than he was.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Everyone listen up!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Where are you going?” She asks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Like she’s worried for him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And the fight is over.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What do you mean?” she settles for.

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

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

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

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

“It’s okay, my car’s outside.”

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

“Okay. Text me when you’re home.”

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

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

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

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

I’m home x

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What do you mean?” She blinks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Harry: No.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Have you always wanted to work in care?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Jesus. Penny, I’m so sorry.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Where’s your mum now?” She asks.

Harry takes a sip of his drink.

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

“Oh, wow.” Y/N’s eyes widen slightly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Gran!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She does.

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

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

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

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

“Cool artwork.”

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

“Are you okay on the sofa?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

She doesn’t sleep all night.

Neither does Harry.

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

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

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

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

“No mum.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Where are you going?” She asks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Happy birthday, Sammy. I miss you.”

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

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

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

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

“It’s not getting any easier, Sammy.”

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

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

The woman from the reception.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Have you seen Sammy today yet?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re not going with them?”

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

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

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

“It’s your month's wages.”

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

“Ten grand.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And Harry’s noticed.

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

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

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

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

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

“Y’look really pretty, by the way.”

Oof. Way to fucking play it cool, Harry.

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

“What?” she breathes.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Nothing,” he says tightly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She hates to admit that he drives better than her.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m sorry,” she quickly says.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re so wet, Penny.”

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

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

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

“Okay, baby. Whatever you want.”

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

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

“Har, please.”

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

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

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

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

“Please, Har. I need you.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes, yes,” she pants out.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Fuckkk, Daddy, please!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re staying?” she peeps out.

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

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

So, he does.

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

Feedback is always welcomed and appreciated!!

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

#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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hazashiovo · 3 months

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korra (legend of korra) x reader angst to fluff 🙏🏻

I gotchuuu 😉👍

Korra x reader

+slight Kuvira x reader cause I have a huge brain rot for her🥲

Angst to fluff,mentions of trauma,long fic because it has plot in it.

Korra has been...distant.

Ever since Zaheer and the red lotus poisoned her and forced her to fight in the avatar state she's been different,to you and to her family.

She doesn't eat,when she sleeps she has nightmares, she doesn't talk to you...and it's worrying you so much,your heart aches each time she sends you away with her deafening silence.

You try talking to her about Asami's accomplishment or Mako's new job,even how Bolin made a name for himself.

But each time she'd have that empty look in her eyes,as she sits in that wheelchair she despises so much.

Sometimes you wish you could read her mind,chase away the memories that are tormenting her.

"Please Korra,I'm begging you,try...for me,just...I know you can do it." You sit on your knees,hands on her knees. Eyes looking at her pleading.

"I'm not who I used to be, (Name). Stop trying to save me." She turns her head away, avoiding your pleading eyes.

"That's not true,and you know it!" You cup her cheek, bringing her face closer to yours,yet your eyes hardly connect with each other.

She grabbed your wrist, pulling it away from her face."I don't need you and your pity, so find someone else to nag and leave me alone already!" Korra snaps,anger running trough her body.

Your eyes whiden in shock and you feel like she squeezed your heart with her harsh words.

"Do you even love me?" You bite your lip, waiting for an answer you know you won't get.

You avert your eyes from her face. Disappointed with her lack of will to be with you.

"That's what I taught." You get up and turn around ready to leave. Ready for a new start away from here,from Korra.

"(Name) i-" she wants to get up,run after you ,hug you and tell you she loves you more than herself. But she can't even gather her words properly.

You stop for a second , wishing to hear those words,only fooling yourself further.

With time Korra started getting more ambitious. She wanted to return to the person everyone knew her as. The avatar.

Her wish to prove to you that she can do better was growing by the day. Even so,the last time you spoke to here was the day you left, a day she still regrets even now.

Sometimes she would just feel like giving up,but you reminded her who she was doing this for,giving her the will to fight.

It's been a year since you've left the south pole. Being there with the shell of your lover was too much for you to handle.

Since you returned to Republic city you've been reunited with Bolin, helping Kuvira restore order to the earth kingdom.

It really took your mind off Korra. Now that you joined Kuvira, you got stronger. Unlike someone,you didn't let your trauma and past tragedies hunt you anymore.

"Well done (Name), you're getting stronger by the day." The dark haired woman smiles, hand laying on your shoulder proudly.

You wipe some sweat of your forehead, smiling back at her. "That's the goal I'm reaching for." She nods, looking at your form.

"I remember the first time Bolin introduced you to me and my cause." She wraps some bandages on her wrist, preparing to spar with you, "You were so lost." You watch her moves carefully, getting in a fighting stance.

"Im not the person I used to be." You speak,words giving you a sense of deja Vu.

Kuvira lounges , throwing some big stones at you. You grin, dodging them.

Once you find your opening,you make some ice disks and throw them at her.

Kuvira bends herself an earth wall,then throws it at you.

You make yourself a wave of water,going around Kuvira's wall, your water wave is circling the older woman. Once water is all around her ,you let it fall,and freeze, traping her in ice.

You move towards Kuvira's frozen body. "You cold in there?" A smug smile adorns your face as you slightly bend down to meet with her face. Your hands lazily lay on your knees.

She smirks,your metal collar suddenly pulled towards her. "Don't get to cocky now. It's just the first time you finally got to beat me. Let's try it with metal bending next time hm?"

You roll your eyes, releasing Kuvira from the Ice cage that kept her down. "I'm confident in myself,but not that confident yet." arms crossed as she rubbed some sore spots on her cold hands.

"Can't you have some faith in yourself?Keep going like this and you won't be far from becoming my second in charge." She smiles.

You smile proudly, happy you can finally accomplish something more for yourself.

Another year passed,with you growing stronger and smarter every day,but the taught of your former lover never ceased to fade. Even now ,her return growing closer by the day. You wonder how she's doing, from what Tenzin has told you,she's having a great recovery.so far. Finally able to walk again.

You worked hard to become Kuvira's right hand,and you're now closer to your goal than ever.

So many cities you helped bring back order and balance , so many lives you saved while being part of this cause.

Unfortunately, Kuvira soon has to step down from her spot,the council finding a new king for the earth kingdom while your boss brought peace wherever she went.

"Oh and Flying monkeys!" You blink, looking at Bolin. "Isn't that what Avatar Aang had ?" You raise a brow,not remembering how this conversation even started. "That is so incorrect." Bolin crosses his arms. Looking ready to give you a lecture. "Avatar Aang had a flying Lemur AND a bison as his animal companions. Not a flying monkey, (name)." You roll your eyes. "Whatever you say rock brain." You smirk noticing his anoyed expression. "Hey! How many times have I told you to stop calling me that?" He pokes you in the waist,making you joilt up. "Stop that!" You glare at him,poking him back.

The two of you go on like this for a little while, attracting a few stares to yourself.

Until someone clears their troath.

"Am I interrupting something?" Lin stands towering over you and Bolin, giving you a bored look. "Chief Beifong!" Bolin is quick to bow down, dragging you with him.

"You little-" you stop yourself, locking eyes with the police chief, now giving her an awkward smile.

"If the two of you are done acting like monkeys,could you follow me?" You and Bolin now stand straight, noticing Lin's mood is lower than usual.

"I can't stay for chit chatting,maybe (Name) could solve this? I remembered I was supposed to meet with mako,like 30 minutes ago." The brunette boy gives you a sorry smile as you glare at him. "How convenient." Your comment followed by narrowed eyes,sent chills down his spine. Bolin took a quick look at chief Beifong,then left.

"Good. I wanted to speak to you anyways." You raise a brow curiously at the older woman's words. "You did?I mean ,you do?" She nods,not saying another word until you get to a remote Cafe.

The two of you sit down in a corner, quite remote from the rest of the people in the public space.

"So ,what did you want to speak to me about Chief?" You start, looking at the window.

"It's about Kuvira." Your face turns to Lin as she got your interest.

"What about Kuvira?" You tilt your head.

"I'm worried she won't step down and allow the prince to rule the earth kingdom." Lin stops,as a waitress brought the two of you two cups of tea,"Kuvira seems to take great pride in what she accomplished,but I don't think she's willing to stop there. People of earth empire call her The Great Uniter." The chief looks at her mug, waiting for you to respond.

You fiddle with your fingers, searching for the right words to describe Kuvira's wishes. "She has done so much for the earth kingdom,and she's a strong woman,in combat and in mind,the name fits her ,if km honest."

You stop to drink a little from your (chosen) tea, "And I know it's not my place to talk but...ever since Korra is gone,the people see Kuvira as their savior."

Lin sighs, "Kuvira is forcing people to do labor work for her , threatening them with their lives." You whiden your eyes at the words spoken from her.

"I know how she can be..harsh,.but she wouldn't do such a thing." Your gaze moves to the window.

"She is manipulating you (Name), because she knows how strong you are. Should I also remind you how you used to date the avatar?." You close your eyes tightly, trying to push away the taughts of Korra. "Why do you think she chose to have you so close to her? If Korra ever becomes a problem for her,she'll have you as leverage." Lin's fist tightens, looking at your expression.

"It's not true. If you saw the way she acts...you wouldn't say that.Kuvira wouldn't just use me like that." She sighs at your way of defending Kuvira. How could you defend such a woman?

"Everything Kuvira does is for a reason,keep that in mind (Name)." Lin gets up and leaves some money on the table.

You remain there , trying to piece together your racing taughts.

And just like Lin said,once it was time for Kuvira to back down and allow the prince to rise,she made the announcement that from then on the earth kingdom would be under her rule.

The rule of The Great Uniter.

This got you contemplating ever joining her,it doesn't feel right with you.

Bolin chose to stick around,but you wanted to leave. Being in a situation like this was too much for you.

"So you planned to just abandon me?" The person you didn't want to see the most right now was behind you, leaning on your door frame.

"This isn't right,Kuvira." You stated, covering your arms as you turn to see her.

"This is exactly what's right for the earth kingdom. I can't let that spoiled Prince destroy everything we accomplished." She pushed herself of the door way, moving closer to you.

"It doesn't feel right,I can't fight for something that doesn't feel right with me." Kuvira sighs. She places a hand on your shoulder. "I know what I'm doing,but I can't do it without you by my side. We accomplished so many great things together." She starts slowly guiding you towards a window. "Just look at how much good we did" her hands point at the window. "The land is safe again, raiders are not attacking innocent people or stealing. What more could you ask?" you look at one of the cities she got back and supplied,it looks at peace. What if she was right?

You bite your lip, "What happens with the people after we leave?" Her eyes meet yours,

"We give them a job, something to do to make the earth kingdom a better place,even the raiders."

Even if your gut tells you not to trust her,your mind reminds you of the great things she did so far. Kuvira never left you down.

"Are you telling the truth to me?"

She smiles, holding eye contact with you.

"Why would I lie?"

This is getting out of hand, Kuvira wants to attack Zaofu, Suyin's home simply for not obeying her terms.

"Kuvira this is madness,you can't do this!" You enter the command center ,she dismisses the people that were in the room, leaving you two alone.

"No. It's necessary for me to do this. Once Zaofu finally surrenders to me I get total control of the earth empire."

You scoff at her words.

"Do you even hear yourself?" Pacing around the room,you can't help but glance at her troops just outside.

"I thought you were with me on this, remember everything we fight for." Her armor slightly clangs as she walks towards you.

"I fight to make this world a better place,you fight to take control and rule and empire, excuse me but there's a difference." You move away from her,scoffing at the taught of helping her bring Zaofu down.

Kuvira glares at the back of your head.

"I'm doing this because no one else was willing to. And I have to make some tough choices that many wouldn't,why can't you see?" The tall woman runs a hand trough her hair, trying to calm herself down.

Now it all makes sense,Lin was right and you were stupid for doubting her.

"I'm leaving and you can't stop me. Not this time." She sighs, once you start moving towards the door, two of her metal bands parts push you to the wall,hands stuck above your head.

"Let me go."you glare at her trying to get away from her metal.

"I expected better from you." She shakes her head disappointed. You look around the room, trying to find a water source, yet nothing in sight.or reach

"Lock her up tight. Make sure she gets no visitors." Kuvira calls for two of her guards.as they take you away,you see the shrinking image of Kuvira's disappointed face.

You watch as Korra fights with Kuvira for your life,and Suyin's.

She got so much better,but there's still something wrong with her you just know it.

Kuvira seems to have the upper hand,until Korra knocks her down. She was so close,but she hesitates suddenly, giving Kuvira the opportunity to trap Korra.

"No!" You scream,Kuvira turns her head to look at you,a smile adorning her face. Looking around desperately,you see a little source of water, hopefully close enough to you.

You move your hands that are tied behind your back to use the water,creating a razor form to slice trough Kuvira's metal.

You take off running, attacking Kuvira with spikes of ice.

The metal bender pushes herself away from Korra , creating a shield for herself.

Kuvira Is pissed,how could you escape? Are her soldiers good for nothing at all? More importantly,what are you going to do?

You create a big ice shield that goes all around to fit you and Korra trough,finally getting to touch her after so long.

"Korra please get up!" You cradle her head in your arms as her upper body lays on your thighs (Kuvira is jelly~~) she opens her eyes,bright blue eyes you would lose yourself in.

"I came back for you." She smiles touching your face lightly,fearing you might be another one of her illusions. Your eyes whiden, smiling at her words

"I shouldn't have left you in the first place." A tear falls on her face (imagine Kuvira trying to break the ice while those two have their moment ☠️)

"I didn't mean anything I said that day,I'm so sorry,I didn't mean to send you away." Korra gets up,now on her knees ,face to face with you. Her hands cup your face, staring at you lovingly." I Love you." Hearing those words,you jump on Korra,giving her a big hug.

You sniff, smiling at her. "We should really focus on getting out of this situation now." Your voice cracks as you joke.

Korra stands up,ready to fight once more, her will stronger than ever.

I originally wanted to write something else,but this plot came so I just rolled with it. ┐⁠(⁠ ⁠˘⁠_⁠˘⁠)⁠┌

#x reader #korra x reader #korra #avatar korra #the legend of korra x reader #the legend of korra #reader #gn reader #kuvira x reader #kuvira #tlok #avatar #fluff #angst #love triangle

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fourmoony · 7 months

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Heya I have a request <3 I've been thinking about Remus having a crush on muggle reader because he sees her walking her dog all the time when he's reading in the park or something and sirius stepping up as wingman and running up to her in animagus form forcing pretending to be Remus' dog and forcing him to talk to her

love your blog btw!!! <3

ah, thank you so much lovely! thank you, as well, for requesting - i love this idea! hope you enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it :)

1.3k remus x fem!reader fluff language

masterlist

There's a man running towards you full pelt.

He's waving his arms, an exasperated look on his face as he huffs and puffs, cheeks crimson from exertion and the cool November breeze. You would be concerned about the fact he seems to be running straight in your direction, clearly past caring about how crazy he looks as he ignores the turned heads of other dog walkers, but it takes you maybe two seconds to deduce the dog - Padfoot, if his collar is to be believed - leaning against your hip is his.

Your own dog, Nova, has already made herself comfortable with Padfoot, sitting happily underneath his chest while you scratch the behind of his ears. He's the biggest dog you've ever seen, you think, up to your hip, standing.

Padfoot doesn't seem to be bothered in the least that his owner is clearly so upset by his apparent disappearance, the large black dog only tilting his head to look up at you, pink tongue lolling out of the side of his mouth. You can tell he's full of personality and mischief, even if he's only been at your feet for a minute or so.

The man comes to a gradual stop, resting his hands on his knees and bowing his head to catch his breath when he's in front of you. You smile kindly, still scratching the dog's ears. Padfoot isn't complaining. The man looks up, a weak sort of smile about his face and you notice that it pulls a scar above his top lip taught. He has a number of them on his face that you can see. One running across the bridge of his nose, under his right eye, and another along his left jaw. They make him no less beautiful, by any means. He's handsome. Pretty. Gorgeous.

It's actually kind of intimidating.

His hair falls in soft curls across his forehead, where you can see the tail end of another scar cutting through his eyebrow, and it's a dirty, sort of sandy blonde that brings out the hazel in his eyes. He's tall and lanky, and the oversized woollen jumper he's wearing hangs from his frame in a way that suggests it wasn't bought for him. He's staring at his dog with such distain you wonder if this is a regular occurrence.

"You," He looks at the dog, eyes narrowed, and then seems to remember himself, "I'm so sorry. He's usually better behaved."

The way he talks, looking at Padfoot, and the way Padfoot reacts, lifting his head in a manner that bleeds defiance, anyone might think the two are actually capable of holding a proper conversation. You smile, amused at the situation, "He's okay. Seems like him and Nova have become fast friends."

Your own dog, a brown, little spaniel puppy, is sitting between Padfoot's front legs happily. As if he can understand, Padfoot drops his head on top of Nova's and almost crushes her with the sheer weight. The man laughs, seemingly resigned to his fate with his mischievous dog.

"Right. Well, again, sorry." He looks entirely bashful, cheeks a beautiful shade of pink.

"No problem, honestly." You wave him off.

The man turns to go back whatever way he came, calling out for Padfoot who remains defiantly still. He calls after him again, growing slightly frustrated, before resigning to his fate when Padfoot circles you once, twice, and then entices Nova into walking slightly ahead along with him. You smile at how tiny she looks compared to the massive black dog, weaving playfully in and out of his feet as they go. He doesn't seem to mind.

"I suppose he's not ready to part with her, yet." He chuckles, holding his hand out towards the two dogs in a gesture - shall we?

You chuckle lightly, "Apparently not."

You tell him your name, and he tells you that his is Remus. It's a nice name, uncommon, you suppose. But so is his accent. Welsh, maybe? It's definitely got a twinge of something. It's endearing. You walk together through the park, along the trail, letting Nova and Padfoot lead the way. Padfoot keeps Nova out of trouble, leading her away from the other leash-less dogs that the four of you pass. There's multiple strange looks from the people you pass, clearly fascinated with Nova and Padfoot and their ridiculous size difference.

"How old is he?" You ask, nodding your head towards Padfoot, who's nosing Nova back onto the dirt path instead of allowing her to run head first into the surrounding forrest.

He's incredibly smart.

"Uhm," Remus falters, lets out a breath you assume is a laugh intended for himself, some sort of inside joke, likely, "He's twenty one."

"Oh, so he's three?" You ask, brows furrowed in confusion.

Remus hums, amused, "Something like that."

"How old is Nova?"

"Eleven months. She's still a little shit sometimes, won't take to her recall training for love nor money." You tell him.

Remus nods along, listening amicably, a smile on his face, "Bit like that bugger then?"

You share a laugh, kind eyes and appled cheeks, shoulders brushing as you walk together. Remus is nice. He's tall and handsome and he's genuinely interested in holding a conversation, despite the fact that it's your dogs who have forced you along together.

"So, what do you do for a living?" Remus asks as you round a corner, passing a couple of determined hikers heading towards the hillier trails.

You both offer them passing smiles, and one comments on how cute your dogs are. You and Remus thank them both, looking fondly at Padfoot and Nova who are happily trotting along in front, sniffing and exploring.

"I work in a little art museum out by the marina. It's quiet and cozy. What about you?"

"I own a book shop with my mate Sirius," Remus tells you, "Quiet and cozy."

You giggle at the repetition of your answer, the car park that signals the end of the trail coming in to view. The sight drops like a lead balloon in your stomach. It's strange, the feeling you get of not having wanted the trail to end, to spend more time talking to Remus. He seems to feel the same way, because he takes a deep breath, teeth sliding over his bottom lip when he notices the carpark, too.

"Did you," He falters, unsure, so you offer him an assuring smile, hope that the look in your eyes tells him you're going to say yes.

He grins back, nodding as if you've passed a silent message between you, "Did you maybe want to get coffee, sometime? Or dinner? Maybe another walk?"

"Yes, Remus. I'd like that." You nod.

Remus looks chuffed, eyes bright and twinkly, cheeks rounded with the force of his smile. He still manages to look entirely too handsome even when he's bashful as he pulls out his phone and hands it to you, a contact form already waiting. You put your number in, your name, too, and hand it back to him.

"I'll text you?" He asks.

You nod, "Text me."

Remus whistles for Padfoot, who actually complies this time, as you bend down to reattach Nova's leash. You say your goodbyes, promise to talk soon, and then go your separate ways to your car.

You're smiling to yourself the entire time you clip Nova into place, talking animatedly to her about how well behaved she was with Padfoot and you almost miss it when you shut the door, look up and notice the car Remus got into just moments ago is driving past. Your brain tells you to put your hand up and wave, but he hasn't seen you, he's too busy talking - or yelling, it looks like - at the fully grown man in his passenger seat.

He's gone a second later, pulling out of the car park as you stand there, dazed, mouth opening and closing like some sort of fish.

"What the-"

#marauders #remus lupin #remus lupin fic #remus lupin imagine #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin fluff #remus lupin oneshot #marauders fic #marauders fluff #james potter #sirius black #love #lily evans #fluff #fourmoonys asks

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deerlottie · 13 days

Note

Natalie fails a class and almost getting kicked off the soccer team but the reader is a nerd and becomes her tutor which leads to nat falling in love with her

I am a sucker for clichè bad girl x goody two shoes I'm sorry 😭

summary: lottie recommends that nat go to a mutual friend instead of some random student for a tutor and she finds it hard to focus when you're so damn distracting. warnings: fluff, fem!reader, first time using y/n kinda nervous...not proofread

"hey, i've got this friend who can help you out with studying."

lottie sits down next to nat on the bench, looking at her with determination. she's starting to rub off on nat's depressing mood ever since she almost got kicked off the team for failing her history class and she's had it up to here.

"you know y/n, right? well, she's like, super smart and you'd be back on the field in no time after a couple of sessions with her. let me give you her number!"

nat grumbles and rolls her eyes - she knows you, you're the goody two shoes of the school, always on top of your grades and even got a special award for never missing a day of class since the start of freshman year. she won't lie, she was hoping to ask one of kevyn's friends so they could just smoke and pretend to study, but she needs to get her shit together, and having some nerd tutor her could probably bore her into studying.

she reluctantly takes the piece of paper lottie gives her and shoves it into her soccer bag, mumbling a faint thanks as she walks away towards the locker room. she bangs her head against the metal and sighs, taking out her phone and staring at her duffle bag.

goddamn it, she thinks.

nat enters your number in her contacts and her fingers float over the keyboard, rolling her eyes as she sends a quick message.

nat: lottie said you could help me with tutoring. meet me at billy's cafe after class.

quickly shoving her phone back in her pocket, she starts changing out of her soccer clothes, her heart jumping in her chest at the sound of her notification chiming.

you: got it. you're paying though.

she can't help the small scoff that floats out of her, smiling as she shakes her head and finishes getting dressed.

"it's really not that hard, nat."

she has her head in her hands as you explain the brief history of the 1700s, her least favorite years if she's being honest. you've only been tutoring her for two weeks and she feels like her head is gonna burst at any moment if you mention another war.

she takes a subtle peek at you through her fingers, her eyes stuck on how your lips move as you speak. you scoot your chair closer to her as you point out something on the textbook, your arm that touches her makes her breath hitch and lick her lips.

"you okay? we can take a quick break if you need it." you smile at her. "i know we've been studying for a while."

nat nods, quickly getting up and rushing to the kitchen to grab some juice. she sighs as she leans up against a counter, scoffing at herself. of course, she just had to go and develop a crush on you. the first time she saw you at passing at one of lottie's parties she knew she was down bad, but she didn't really see you again after that so she forgot about it.

until she met up with you at the cafe.

it was like all her past feelings hit her at once, and she nearly ditched meeting up with you once she saw you sitting at one of the tables. it took her 5 minutes to work up the courage to even go up to you and she felt like a fool for how she could barely talk to you without blushing.

it's not really the history that's boring her, and to be honest, you've made it tolerable. she's loved learning new facts that you go on tangents about while getting excited about the new chapter she's supposed to read. you've even taught her how to study more efficiently and she goes crazy at how you praise her for doing well on mock tests.

but recently, she's been lacking. she realized that this has turned into more than a crush. she doesn't know what exactly, but she knows that it's affecting her ability to work with you, and she needs to pass this damn class. she slams her glass down on the counter so hard that it splashes her and she groans in irritation, grabbing a towel and wiping the juice off while mumbling to herself.

"you good in there?" you poke your head through the door, looking sheepish as you notice her annoyed expression.

"yeah, i'm fine. let's get back to studying." she rushes past you, intent on ending this session as soon as possible.

"you know, i'm surprised she can't feel how hard you're staring at her."

"i'm not staring at her." nat glares at lottie, crossing her arms as she takes a quick glance at you. again. "she just happens to be in the way of where i'm looking."

lottie snorts and looks at nat, looks at how she can't seem to tear her eyes off of you and how her neck is blossoming red and how she picks at the ends of her shirt in an attempt to distract herself.

"just ask her out already. i have it on good authority that she likes you back, but you didn't hear it from me." lottie giggles, nudging her.

nat's heart soars at her words and she looks at you longingly. there's no way she could confess. she feels like she's gonna throw up whenever you smile at her, how in the world can she possibly get the words "i like you." out?

she fails to notice the gears turning in lottie's head as she devises a masterplan, trying to wipe the smirk off her as she calls out your name.

"hey, y/n!" she shouts inside the bustling gym, waving at you.

"stop it!" nat's eyes widen as she slaps lottie's hands down, smiling awkwardly as you turn your head towards the two them. "i swear to god i'll kill you." she whisper-yells, wiping sweat off her forehead as you excuse yourself from your friend and walk over.

"hi, lottie. nat." her knees nearly buckle at your tone, and she's not even sure if she's imagining it or not. "did you need something?"

"oh, no, i didn't, but nat wanted to speak to you. see ya!" lottie pats her on the shoulder before rushing off and skipping over to the other side of the gym, pretending to busy herself with the equipment.

you look at her expectantly, raising your eyebrows and patiently waiting for her to speak up.

don't fuck up, don't fuck up, don't fuck up, don't fuck up!

"uh- you smell nice." she blurts out, feeling cold sweat prickle on her back. she flushes even more as you laugh, covering your mouth as you giggle.

"thanks?" you respond, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. "but is that all lottie called me over for?"

"a-are we still on for a study session after school?" nat internally groans at herself for fucking up her chance, scratching the side of her neck in embarrassment. she's for sure kicking lottie's ass after gym.

"oh," your shoulders slump in disappointment, but you quickly change your demeaner into back into something happier as you give her a small smile. "for sure. totally..."

she gives you a confused look at your tone, eyes glancing to your downturned lips and your defeated figure.

"did i say something wrong?"

"no, no. it's just-" you sigh, shifting on your feet. you look around the gym, catching lottie's gaze before she swifty turns back around pretends she's not eavesdropping. "i thought you were about to ask me out."

"what."

"lottie set it all up. she told me that you liked me weeks ago and i've been waiting for you to confess but apparently, you're too much of a scaredy-cat." you tease, smirking at how her face falls.

she splutters, trying to come up with a retort but all she can manage is to stomp her foot and roll her eyes. she catches lottie's dark locks out of the corner of her eyes and scowls - of course, lottie set this whole thing up.

"well?" you cross your arms, looking her up and down. "are you?"

"absolutely not." she scoffs, getting nervous all over again as she looks you in the eyes. "do you maybe wanna get something to eat tomorrow night...?" she holds her breath as she awaits your response, wringing her hands together.

you can't help the bashful smile that breaks out, and you jump up happily before planting a small kiss on her cheek. nat gasps, feeling her face get hot to the touch as she brings a hand up to the mark.

"pick me up at 7:00." you whisper in her ear, slowly backing away before hopping over to lottie and gossiping about what just happened.

maybe she won't have to kick lottie's ass after all.

#.myworks #natalie scatorccio thoughts 💭#natalie scatorccio x reader #yellowjackets x reader #nat scatorccio x reader #lord please let the layout be clean

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seattlesellie · 1 year

Text

anything but me; part 1 ♡

pairings: abby anderson x reader, ellie williams x reader

warnings: smut, angst!, mentions of marijuana, secret relationship

synopsis: you, abby, ellie and friends are in a cabin in the middle of a snowstorm. what could possibly ever go wrong?

The landscape, once familiar and inviting, transforms into a hostile and treacherous terrain.

It’s rapid, forming deep, unyielding drifts. it was a relentless onslaught, a tempestuous manifestation of nature's fury.

A snowstorm.

And then a warm, messy kiss, tongue pressing right on the pulse of your neck.

“We can’t-“ You whispered. Shallow breaths, your heart was racing like a runaway train. Pounding rhythm echoed in your ears, palms grew clammy, and beads of sweat formed on your forehead.

It was snowing outside.

And you felt like the middle of August.

“Why?” the blonde whispered, her minty breath caressing your temple. Her heart was beating just as fast, you could feel it against your chest. Her arms were wrapped tightly around your waist, pulling you closer and closer with every kiss. You had to break it off.

“Because-“ you whispered erratically. Fuck. She sucked the skin on your neck, suctioning it in between her plump lips. Your cunt was pulsing, she would have mocked you if she knew. “Already?” she’d say, a soft smile creeping on her face.

“Abby-“ you whimpered, as she brought her large hand to cup your clothed cunt. Did she just read your mind? She parted two of her fingers on the delicate spot, just like she spread you wide before divulging in with her tongue. Puffy pussy lips spread open, her favorite.

There was no time for teasing, or for mocking. She needed to fuck you right now.

“Ca- I cant- I cant” you whispered. You almost screeched when she softly patted your clothed cunt. You were ready for a slap.

“Yeah you can…” She grabbed your hair and pulled. “My best girl” she whispered, a glint of cockiness in her eyes. She knew what she was doing. Her praises always paralyzed you completely, completely fucking your brain’s capacity of understanding the outer world out of you. Her needy, nasty girl.

But you really couldn’t. Not right now.

It almost hurt when you had to peel her off of you, to slap her hand away from where you needed her the most.

She pouted. Abby pouted.

“I’m sorry… I- Ellie wanted to talk, she practically begged me to. I told her id come to her room at 10, It’s 10:05” you apologized, eyebrows furrowing in anguish.

“No- No-“ Abby kissed your cheek, trying to catch her breath.

“Don’t apologize, It’s okay, I promise.” She gave you a look, a look that said, I trust you. And you’re mine. And I know how bad you need me. Chivalry was alive and thriving. Ellie should take a masterclass, taught by Abby Anderson herself.

“I’ll be right here, yeah?” She whispered softly, planting a soft kiss on the tip of your nose. It drove you truly crazy sometimes, how a rough kiss was followed by a delicate one, a slap by a caress. Her good girl, and then her slut, her princess, and then her bitch.

“Mhm” you nodded, doe eyed. She hypnotized you. Dragging your feet, forcing them to walk away from her seemed like the worst thing you could ever imagine doing.

But you weren’t an asshole. You weren’t Ellie.

The cabin stood tall and sturdy, nestled amidst a winter wonderland, with its wooden exterior contrasting against the pristine white surroundings. You were dragging your feet, and god, the stickiness in your panties didn’t help.

You hesitated before reaching for the doorknob. With a creak, the door swung open.

“Hey” the auburn haired girl said dryly, as if she didn’t fidget with her fingernails while drawing aggressively just five minutes ago. She was trying to contain herself. Be normal. Just talk to her.

She was wearing a white tank top. It was snowing outside.

“Youre not… cold?” you asked, without even greeting her. You, the thoughtful person that you are.

“M’fine, I turned on the heater” She sniffed. She wasn’t fine, and the heater was definitely off. Her nose was red, eyes puffy, and god, that room smelled like Ellie. Your Ellie.

Was your Ellie.

Before entering her room, you decided you weren’t going to let her win this. See, Ellie had a habit of… dancing around important subjects. She was a master of distraction, knew exactly what to tell you, where to touch you, how to get you to crumble beneath her. She wasn’t evil, she never did it on purpose. The weight of her inner demons pressing upon her were a suffocating presence. They suffocated her, at first. Then, they creeped up on you too. She would yell, and demand you to stay quiet, to shut up. She would argue, and then ignore you, and then argue some more. She would scream at you to leave, and then beg you to let her in. You couldn’t do it anymore.

Thats why you left.

You didn’t know whether to sit or not, so you balanced your weight between your feet. You scratched your chin with your shoulder. Abby. Her scent lingered upon your skin. The cologne, like a silent caress, delicate pine, left an indelible mark upon your being. Your face flushed. Maybe Ellie’s room really was hot. Maybe she was right to wear that top.

You fixed your hair. Focus.

“What did you wanna talk to me about?” You questioned. Ellie was stood in front of you, avoiding your gaze. If she looked - she didnt know what she’d do.

“I don’t know” She said dryly, voice raspier than usual. It smelled like weed. She must have smoked before you entered.

“You don’t know?” you questioned. You tried to avoid rolling your eyes. It was so typical, so Ellie. Of course she didn’t know, she never fucking does.

“I- Can you sit down? Why are you acting like you don’t know me?” Ellie's voice sliced through the air with a tinge of annoyance, her words dripping with frustration. Every syllable carried a distinct edge, as if each letter resented being uttered.

She signaled you to sit on the bed.

You obliged.

She sat next to you, keeping the distance. Funny, how just a month ago, she would have begged you to sit on her lap. She would have pampered you with kisses. That was then, and this is now.

2 strangers.

You felt a lump forming down your throat. Don’t cry. Don’t cry.

Ellie stared at the floor. She glanced over to you, and then shifted on the bed. The forrest green duvet emitted a soft rustle, like a gentle sigh escaping its fabric embrace.

She took a deep breath.

Thats what those Youtube videos taught her. “Meditation for beginners” was probably the worst one. “How to deal with anger issues”, yeah, she binge watched 7 of those videos.

“I wanted to ask you…”

You glanced at her. She was biting the inside of her lips, blood was forming. The taste of metal washed over her tongue.

“Fuck-“ She whispered.

“I need you to explain. I need to know why you left.”

your gaze froze, breath catching in your throat. Ellie's question pierced through your defenses, demanding an answer.

“I’m not doing this right now” you said, ready to get up and leave. It’s not like you didn’t expect it, but for some reason, you just couldn’t.

Ellie looked at you with disbelief. As you got up, halfway there, Ellie grabbed your hand forcefully. Before you knew it, you were sat back down on the bed. Your breath hitched. You should have walked away.

“I said I’m not doing this with you.” You made eye contact with her for the first time. Her eyebrows were scrunched, jaw clenched. Your Ellie.

“Are you not even going to apologize? I mean, fuck-“ Ellie's eyes narrowed, frustration burning within her. Her gaze intensified, her pupils dilated.

Apologize?

“Fuck- Apologize?” you laughed in disbelief.

“Holy fucking shit- Wow” you glared at her.

“You are un-fucking believable”

#ellie williams x reader #ellie williams #ellie x reader #ellie williams fanfiction #ellie williams x you #abby anderson #abby anderson x you #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson smut #abby anderson angst #ellie williams angst

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willalove75 · 9 months

Note

Hey! I was wondering if you could do Alcina x stone top reader, like Alcina try to take control like she usually does but ultimately fails and get ✨DEMOSLISHED✨ on her desk.

I hope you see this, I thank you in advance :)

Hiya!! Thanks so much for the request!

My brain wasn't able to come up with a scenario where I was able to make this work with her canon measurements so I'm making this more of an AU where she's human sized. I hope you enjoy!

Tags: dom!reader, smut, degradation, praise

Warnings: 18+ Only. Minors DNI

It was a cold night in the castle and you were all alone in bed. Your wife, Alcina, was still working and when you glanced over at the clock you realized it was almost midnight. She went back into her office after dinner and you haven't seen her since.

The financial quarter was nearing its end and she had a ton of paperwork to finish for the vineyard but lately she's been working herself to the bone. For over a week she's been coming to bed after you've fallen asleep and is gone by the time you wake up. You've tried to talk to her about going easy on herself but she's as stubborn as they come and doesn't give your suggestion a second thought.

Alcina has been stressed in a multitude of ways and neither of you have been able to relieve your sexual frustration in nearly two weeks. Tonight you've reached your breaking point. She promised she would be in bed early, that she would reward you for being so patient. Since she still hasn't shown, you decide to take matters into your own hands.

You throw a sweatshirt on over your pajamas and cross the vast castle to the wing where her study resides. The stone floors are cold beneath your feet and it's so silent you think you can hear your heartbeat ricochet off of the walls. You've never gotten used to the castle at night. It's always been eerie. Even when you were first hired as the groundskeeper, being here at night freaked you out a little. Nevertheless, you trek on.

Once you reach her study door you give the thick wood a few light knocks, not wanting to startle your wife inside.

"Come in." A tired and frustrated voice replies.

When you walk in you see Alcina sitting behind her desk with her reading glasses perched on the bridge of her nose.

"Hey." You say as you walk in.

"Draga, what are you-" She glances over at the clock and her face falls. "Oh, shit." She mutters. "I'm so sorry draga mea, I didn't realize how late it was."

Alcina removes her glasses as she stands and walks around to the front of her desk where she meets you. You rest your hands on her hips and she drapes her arms around you neck. She gazes into your eyes before leaning in and pressing her lips against yours.

"You said you would be in bed two hours ago, my love." You whisper against her lips before moving to press light kisses into her neck.

"I know draga, I'm sorry." She says, leaning her head to the side to give you more access.

Your start to kiss her neck a little harder and nip at her skin causing her to sharply inhale.

"Come to bed."

"I can't, I still have-" her breath hitches in her throat when you suck on her pulse point. "I still have some paperwork to" her breath hitches again. "to finish."

"It can wait."

"I can't-" her words are cut off by a groan when you slip your knee between her legs and press up into her.

With your hands firmly grasping her hips, you rock them against you as you continue to mark up her neck. Alcina bits her lip to keep her moans at bay and grabs at the back of your head. With every rock of her hips against your leg you can feel her wetness against your skin grow through her lace panties.

"Oh, draga." She moans into your shoulder.

"You're so wet." You mumble into her soft skin. "Let me have you, iubirea mea."

A low growl rumbles in her throat and you can feel its vibration against your lips. When you first started working at the castle you barely spoke Romanian but Alcina taught you some words. Speaking to her in her native language is one of your secret weapons since you know how much it gets her going.

You press up into her a little harder and a moan slips from her lips. Alcina pushes you down into the chair behind you and straddles your lap. She grabs the hair on the back of your head and pulls at it, kissing you hard.

As someone who considers themselves a stone top, it's not uncommon for you and Alcina to fight for dominance in bed. Every so often you'll relent and let her take over or she'll win the battle you two playfully fight. Tonight however, she broke her promise and you're not letting her off the hook that easily.

Grabbing her thighs you stand up from the chair and lift her onto her desk. Some of the papers littering the surface fall to the floor along with a few other items cluttering it. The two of you are kissing hard, both of you trying to take control as your tongues eagerly explore each others mouths. More things fall to the round as you quickly pull up her dress and her hands grab at your sweatshirt. You slide your hands to her hips and pull her to the edge of the desk, pressing your leg between hers and you grind into her. A moan rings out into the night air and she manages to pull your sweatshirt off.

Her hands go straight for your pajama bottoms and you grab her wrists. Alcina is strong, you'd never know how strong she was just by looking at her but looks are certainly deceiving. Luckily your work as groundskeeper has increased your strength as well so it's an even match. Somehow you manage to pin her arms behind her back and she grunts in protest but never breaks the kiss.

Holding her wrists behind her back with one hand, your free hand dives between her legs. The pads of your fingers immediately find her clit over her underwear and you waste no time rubbing tight, quick circles around it. Alcina throws her head back and cries out with a growl. She pulls against your hand restraining her wrists and tries to break free.

As she wiggles in your grip she slides off the desk landing on her feet. Just as she manages to break out of your hold you manage to keep one of her wrists pinned and your other hand grabs the other. She fights for control and you're able to turn her around and bend her over her desk. You pin her wrists behind her back again and lean over her.

"Stay down." You growl into her ear.

A whimper escapes from her lips and you nibble she shell of her ear. When you pull back she tries to fight against you and you give her a hard smack on the ass. She cries out in pleasure and you massage her reddening skin. You give her one more smack when she pulls against your grip on her hands and she cries out again.

Her legs begin shaking with need and she starts to whimper. She stops fighting back and you grab the hair on the back of her head and lean over her again.

"Good girl. Don't make me keep punishing you."

Alcina groans and you sit back up after placing a kiss on her neck. Holding her wrists with one hand, you use the other to pull her wet thong down her long legs. You tap at her legs so she steps out of them and you feel how drenched they are in your hands.

"So wet for me already baby? I barely even touched you." You caress her slit and graze over her clit, causing her to whine. "You wouldn't be so desperate for me if you worked so much, you know?" You tease.

You can tell you hit a nerve with that one because she growls and fights against your grip once more. With another smack to her ass she settles down.

"I'm just going to have to tie your wrists together, aren't I?" You ask.

Before she can respond you start to tie her wrists together with her wet, lacy thong.

"Not perfect, but it'll have to do." You say after you finish. "You know, I was hoping to ravish you in our bedroom, but you're so stubborn I guess I'm just going to have to do it here."

Alcina opens her mouth to quip back but the only thing that leaves her lips is a whine as your fingers explore her dripping slit.

"Fuck you're so wet." You say, coating your fingers in her arousal.

You begin to circle her clit and she starts to moan.

"You like that baby? You like when I play with your clit like that?"

"Uh-huh." She wines.

"Use your words." You say, slowing your ministrations.

Alcina whines in protest and cries out.

"Yes! I love it. I love when you play with my clit."

"Good girl."

After circling over her clit a few times you easily slide two fingers deep into Alcina's soaked pussy. Her moans echo through her study and her eyes roll into the back of her head.

You push your fingers deep inside her dripping cunt until you bottom her out and pull them away. After repeating that a few times you start to curl them into her walls and Alcina's cries grow louder.

"Yes, let me hear you my love." You say as you pick up the pace.

"Oh fuck!" She moans.

"You like when I overpower you? When I treat you like my little fucktoy?"

"Mhm."

You smack her ass again and she yelps.

"Use your words." You say as you thrust back into her.

"Yes! Fuck. I love it baby."

As you fuck her with your fingers her legs begin to shake and her walls start to clench down around you. You bring her right to the edge and pull your fingers out of her, leaving her pussy to clench around nothing. Alcina cries out in protest.

"What's the matter, love? You didn't think you could break your promise and not go unpunished, did you?"

"Fuck you." She spits.

Alcina hates being edged, it's not that it makes her uncomfortable, she just doesn't like being teased. You've only ever done it one other time and you ended up paying for it by being completely tied down to her bed and edged for hours at her mercy until she made you cum so hard you blacked out for a minute. She told you she was going to "fuck the brat right out of you" and she sure as hell did that night. But you know if you were the one to break a promise like this you'd be punished so it's only fair that she receives a punishment as well.

"Ah, being bratty now, are we?" You say as you tease her clit. "A very attractive woman once told me that the best way to deal with a brat is to fuck it right out of them. I wonder how well that works."

"Don't you dar- fuck!" Her words are cut off with a cry when you shove your fingers back into her.

The only other sounds that came from her lips were cries and moans of pleasure as you fucked her relentlessly. Bringing her to the edge of release before taking it away over and over again. Each time you were met with a cry of protest. Her whimpers were the sweetest sounds you've ever heard. Especially when they were accompanied by the wet noises her pussy made when you thrusted in and out of her.

Her arousal was dripping down your wrist and down her trembling legs. Her eyes were squeezed shut and her flushed face and chest were laying flat against the cool mahogany of her desk. You brought her to the edge and back down again when you heard the tiniest beg slip from her lips.

"What was that?" You ask but she only whimpers in response. "Was that a beg I heard?"

Alcina doesn't respond so you bring her to the edge again and just as she's about to tip over, just when she thinks you'll finally let her cum, you pull your fingers out.

"Fuck! Please!"

"Ah, there it is. Please what? Tell me what you want baby." You say, pushing back into her.

"Please fuck me, make me cum. Please!" Tears begin to form in the corners of her eyes as she desperately whimpers. You take a second to look at the goddess laying beneath you and your mouth waters.

"Fuck, look at you. So wet, begging for me to fuck you senseless, at my mercy."

"Please." She whimpers.

You've never been able to reduce Alcina to such a begging, wet mess before but you absolutely love it. And by the sound of the moan she releases and the way her walls grip your fingers when you slide them back in, you can tell she loves it too.

"More, please, fuck me. I need more." She moans.

Pumping your fingers in and out of her, you bring her to the edge once more. Just before she's about to explode on your hand you pull out entirely again and she cries out. Before she can say anything you shove three fingers into her and her body jerks as she screams in pleasure. After giving her a few seconds to stretch around your fingers you begin to finger fuck her harder than you think you ever have before.

"You've been such a good girl for me. Even though you broke your promise, I think you've more than made up for it. Let me take care of you baby." You whisper to her as you drive her into oblivion.

"Fuck, oh fuck! Yes, fuck me, make me cum! Please baby harder!" She cries.

You slam your fingers deep into her and drive short, hard thrusts into her g spot as you curl your fingers in a rhythm. Her legs start to shake and you feel her walls clench down around you hard before you feel them relax. Alcina screams out into the night and her body trembles as her orgasm hits her like a freight train. You keep up your pace through her orgasm and as soon as she's done a second one builds and hits her. As you guide her down she trembles beneath you. You untie her wrists with one hand and once you feel the pulsing of her walls slow down, you pull your fingers out.

Laying in front of you, your wife is a blissed out, trembling mess. Your hand and her legs are glistening with her cum, she whimpers every time an aftershock runs up her spine and her legs can barely hold her up.

Alcina looks up at you as she tries to catch her breath and you help her stand. Her legs are unsteady so you guide her to the chair and sit her down. Kneeling in front of her, you pull her hips to the edge and spread her legs. She goes to protest and you sit up and kiss her.

"Shh, let me clean you up. I'll be gentle, I promise. Okay?"

She nods her head and you kiss her once more before positioning yourself between her legs. Looking up, you see her half-hooded, lust-filled eyes staring down at you and you lick up her soaked pussy as you stare into them. Her eyes roll back and she tosses her head back against the chair.

As you clean up her mess you can feel her pussy pulsating against your tongue. Her clit is swollen and you circle the soft flesh with your tongue, making Alcina whine. Even though you weren't trying to make her cum again, you can feel her orgasm build with each lick and suck of her pussy. You let it slowly build, giving her clit a gentle suck and pull every so often, before her hand is gripping the back of your head. Slipping your tongue between her folds, you keep eating her out until she cums into your mouth with a soft cry.

You make sure you clean up every drop before slowing your movements and pulling away from her. Looking up, you see Alcina resting her head against the back of the chair with her eyes closed and her chest rising and falling as basks in the afterglow of being fucked senseless. After you wipe your mouth, you sit up and cup her face and her eyes meet yours.

Alcina leans down and captures your lips in a deep kiss. When your lips part she rests her head against yours and closes her eyes. You can tell she's rightfully exhausted. From both over-working herself to being fucked so hard. Pulling her into you, you have her wrap her legs around your waist and her arms around your neck and you pick her up. After you adjust your grip on her, you're surprised when she nuzzles her head into your neck instead of protesting. She's never let you do this before without putting up a fight so she must be either exhausted or in desperate need of being taken care of, or both.

You carry Alcina into your shared bedroom and sit her down on the counter in the bathroom. After wetting a washcloth and pouring some soap on it, you clean between her legs as well as your face and hands. Wrapping herself around you again, you carry her into the bedroom and lay her on the bed. She slips out of her dress after you unzip it and after she removes her bra you help her to pull a nightgown over her head. Pulling the covers back, she curls up in bed and you follow suit. Covering the both of you with the duvet, you lean over to shut off the light.

Alcina curls into you, burying her face in your neck and wrapping her arms around you.

"Thank you." She says as she places chaste kisses on your neck.

"Of course my love, I hope I was able to help you relax."

"You did draga mea, more than I can explain. Thank you. I love you."

"I love you too baby."

After a soft kiss goodnight, the two of you drift off into a peaceful, restful sleep.

#willalove75 #lady dimitrescu #wlw fanfic #alcina dimitrescu #re8 lady dimitrescu #lady dimitrescu x reader #lady alcina #lady dimitrescu fanfic #lady dimitrescuxreader #re8 alcina #alcina x female reader #alcina x reader #re8 fanfiction #re8 village #re8

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maneaterluvr101 · 26 days

Text

FRANCIS FOREVER| PT.1

ART DONALDSON X READER

SYNOPSIS: In which Evelyn has idolised Art from the moment they first met, from his dirt blonde hair to his devotion to tennis, to the way he looks at her. Until the great tennis player, Tashi Duncans, catches the attention of her best friends, Patrick and Art. And as Tashi integrates into their once trio, she realises that her devotion has slowly turned into infatuation throughout the years.

WARNING: CHALLENGERS SPOILER, mature language, sexual themes, angst, slow burn, series.

Word Count: 3.4k

“Dr.Auclair?” The hostess confirming as she scanned the reservations list before looking up, the woman in front of her gave a nod.

She gave a polite smile before leading Evelyn to her seat with a light blush painted on her cheeks, dumbfounded by her looks.

Her heels clicked against the tile floor of the restaurant she had reserved at. Though busy, it felt as though the customers and worker’s eyes were on Evelyn the moment she entered the building.

Tuesdays night lights glimmered in dimly lit restaurant as her waitress led her to her seat with a calming view of the city, thanking her with a soft but genuine smile as she took her seat before looking down on her attire for the evening.

Evelyns day-to-day scrubs were no where to be seen, replaced with a simple but chic outfit that still hugged her body to perfection. And though she looked stunning and composed, her palms were sweaty and she felt like her heart was having palpitations as her pointer finger tapped the wooden table with a certain rhythm.

Anxious wouldn’t begin to describe how nervous she was to talk to the man she still thought about even after a decade of no communication.

STANFORD UNIVERSITY, 15 YEARS AGO.

“But Professor, you were the one who specifically instructed us to quote this extract when we’re faced with this question!” Evelyn spat as her manicured finger pointed to her script on the psychology lecturers desk.

To say that she was furious would be an understatement. For most of Evelyns life, academics had been the primary part of her existence. Never getting anything lower than an A was something she will forever pride herself in.

Until now.

As she faces her psychology professor with her brows furrowed in confusion and jaw clenched. Between the two was her first major psychology test of the semester with a large B written on it.

Professor Lynn slowly shaking his head as he pursed his lips. “There’s nothing I can do for you, Evelyn, the marking system has changed from the past few years,” he stated, as he tried to keep his composure.

Professor Lynn wasn’t unfamiliar of the infamous Evelyn Auclair. Every one of teachers had at least one story to tell about her. Like how she sat by Mrs Jackson table for 4 hours in a silent protest to change the book that they were assigned to read, as she said “This book is too elementary for the amount of money my parents pay for me to be here. Point blank.”

Whether good or bad, you’ve heard of Evelyn Auclair at least once.

Evelyn stays silent for what seems like forever as she tries her best not to curse him out, ‘He’s just trying to do his job, Eve. This isn’t personal and you shouldn’t raise your voice like that. It’s been 30 minutes since class has been over and your next class starts in 15. Come up with a solution quick,’

She thought to herself as she tapped her manicured pointer finger on his desk.

She nods her head slowly as she straightens her back, purposely connecting her eyes with his as she plastered a fake closed mouth smile.

“I'm sorry for lashing out on you like that. It was disrespectful and completely unnecessary, but please take into consideration the hard work i put into learning everything that you’ve taught us in psych and understand my frustration when the first B-” she pauses as she realizes her voice was getting louder.

Taking a deep breath in and releasing the air she continues, “when the first B I have ever gotten is a major exam which counts 45% of this semester mark” she finishes calmly.

They both stay silent for a moment, Professor Lynn trying to maintain the eye contact with Evelyn, to only look away after a moment of Evelyn intimidating eye contact.

With tension so thick you can cut it with a knife, Professor Lynn hesitantly nods his head as he lets out a sigh of exhaustion. “Okay, I'll recheck your paper, when I have the time to do so. How does that sound” he suggested weakly as he was convinced and mostly tired realizing that he had just spent 30 minutes arguing with Evelyn, ‘Who still looks like she can go for another 1 hour or two.’ Professor Lynn thought to himself

She paused for a moment, as she furrowed her brows and bit her bottom lip pretending to be deep in thought, when in actuality she knew this was the best she could get.

Finally, Evelyn nods with a neutral face, “Thank you, sir. I’ll take my leave now, enjoy the rest of your day” she offers him a soft genuine smile which he returns with a tired one.

And as she picks her bag up from the desk. She reaches for her phone in her front pocket, checking the time.

“Shit." she murmured as she practically ran out of class, she had 8 minutes left to reach her next class, which was Chem, on time.

As she sped walked through the practically empty corridors, she grabbed her phone once more to call one of her friends who shares the same classes as her, Amira.

‘Hopefully she can save me a seat in the first rows, I’m not sitting anywhere near the back. All the frat-’ Her thoughts interrupted as she bumped into someone. Almost dropping her phone in the process

“So-”

Ah.

And as she raised her head from her phone to utter out an apology, her brown eyes connected with hooded blue ones for just a moment before they looked away. It felt like, for a moment, everything had slowed down as she surveyed his appearance, taking notice of how he looked. He had almost mouse-like features, his well-kept eyebrows furrowed as he looked ahead jaw clenched. He had to be standing at, what seemed like at least 5'11 as he walked past not once looking back at her.

Finally snapping out her trance, Evelyn quickly realizing that she still hadn’t issued out her apology, "Sorry!", cringing at how loud she had sounded for some boy who didn't seem phased by the fact that she had bumped into him.

She stood there staring at the back of his form as it disappeared, fascinated by his aura, which has never happened. Most of her friends gush over boys, spewing all about how attractive they were just by how they carried themselves. Evelyn never truly understood what her friends meant by this, until now.

Almost as though she set a reminder for herself, her phone blared. Amira, read on the screen with a large print as clicked on the green button to answer.

“where are you? Class is about to start in 4 minutes,” an angry whisper inquired on the other line. Her and Evelyn had a few things in common, being punctual was one of them.

“Uh, yeah. Im almost there. Save me a seat?” she stuttered out as she began her speed walk to her next class.

It had been almost 2 weeks since the bump in with the stranger and Evelyn still thought about him.

And the more she thought about him, the more she seemed to look for him everyday. It also didn’t help that Amira had no idea who she was talking about as she stated, “Please, with the description that you gave me you just described 90% of the white boys in Stanford.”

So for now, Evelyn unconsciously settled on looking at every blonde curly head, her heart stammering hoping to find him only to be met with disappointment each time.

“Eve, you have got to join some sort of sport. You cant be waking up and breathing books every chance you get.” Amira currently tried to reason with her friend, as they sat in the cafeteria.

Evelyn shook her head as she scrunched up her face in confusion, “Why? It’ll just drain me as if Im not a premed student who isn’t already stressed by the shit ton of modules and tests i have this semester. Plus I’m a first year, i need to make this year count.” She stated before taking a bite of her apple.

The brown girl quick to respond, “That’s what Im saying! It’s your first year in college and all you can think about is books? C’mon, if not partying at least have yourself a hobby,” and before Evelyn could respond, Amira quickly shut it down. “And reading old literature doesn’t count as hobby.”

Evelyn rolled her eyes as she sighed.

“Right. Tell that to the book club which I was the president of in 10th Grade” she defended playfully with a grin.

“Im serious, Eve! I want you to enjoy your years in college.” Amira lectured as she stared at the girl whose only personality were her grades and fighting teachers because of her grades.

Evelyn sighing once more before forcing a small smile on her face, “I’ll look into some sports that don’t include ice, grass, water or having to grind or push up on anybody. How’s that?”

“Sounds like you crossed out 80% of sports by that list alone, but I’ll take what I can get.” Amira pointed out as she smiled at Eve, her eyes widened as she had an idea,

“There’s a match on Wednesday. Mens tennis with Fire and Ice playing, maybe you can accompany me?” suggested Amira with a wide smile.

And to quickly end this tedious topic of sports, Evelyn answered with a nod before changing the subject.

Wednesday had came too quickly for Evelyns liking as Amira dragged her to the tennis courts.

“This is going to be so fun! Aren’t you excited? I’m excited. Your first sports match that you’ve watched in college!” Amira babbled on as she walked past seated people, muttering out ‘excuse me’s’ between every 3rd to 4th word she said before finally sitting down in the 2nd row of bleachers right in the middle, Evelyn following suit.

“Im literally shaking out of excitement.” Evelyn narrated with faux enthusiasm as she lifted her hand towards Amira’s vision making sure her hand stood completely still.

Amira slapped her hand away making Evelyn giggle, rolling her eyes Amira was about to lecture Evelyn before her eyes caught onto the 2 boys on the court. “There they are, Fire and Ice.” Amiras manicured finger pointing to the two on the court.

And as Evelyn turned her head towards the court, her heart dropped as she realised who was on the court. Her stomach twisting as the mystery boy she had been looking for for the past two weeks had finally been found, She didn’t even know how to explain the emotions she felt when she stared at the dirt blonde who seemed to be in his own world as he stretched with his partner.

Her face must’ve given it away as she felt her friend nudge her slightly, “Theyre hot right? The brunette is Patrick Zweig, he doesn’t go to school here but he’s like really talented when it comes to tennis. he actually doesn’t go to school at all right now just doing him, i guess. I’d like to do him too but we can’t always get what we want. Then we have the blonde one,” Amira points towards him, glancing at Evelyn amused by how she seemed so invested in what Amira was saying, she leans towards Evelyn, “he’s Art Donaldson, he studies here at Stanford and is a year above us. Not sure in what he studies though, he’s got talent but not as comparable to Patricks. I feel like, and this is just my opinion, Art doesn’t really think that much of tennis as much as Patrick does. And-oh the match is starting.” Amira quick to shut her mouth as she watched the double match begin.

And as Patrick hit the first serve, Evelyn fell in love. Watching as the ball went back and forth between the two pairs, her lingering on Patrick and Art each time that hit the ball back. With each grunt and whimper that came with each stroke, the determination to win as both team’s faces are scrunched up with concentration. Evelyn cant help but lean forward as the direction of her head travelled with the ball.

And as this game played in front of her she couldn’t help but feel at peace though her palms sweated for the so called, “Fire and Ice” duo to win.

This was one of the reasons why she hated sports, it was simply unpredictable. It could reward you or leave you high or dry if it truly wanted to. Sports needed a certain type of trust from the viewers to the players, creating this bond that resembled a relationship between the viewer and the supporting team. And this match made her realise how right she was, but how oh so wrong she was to believe it was a bad to feel this way.

Her heart stammers as they were on the last set, the whole court quietly watching. And as Art served the last winning hit, Evelyn could help but stand up. “Let’s Go!” She screamed, her always composed self nowhere to be found, as some of the crowd also stood clapping.

And as she clapped she could’ve sworn she made eye contact with Art from across the court but that thought was interrupted as she felt Amira stand next pushing her playfully, “I’ve never seen you jump and scream like that before. Not even when you got first place in the Science Olympiad, looks like we’ve found your sport.” Amira teased with a grin. Evelyn smiling back at Amira as she felt light from the win of the game.

“We’ve definitely found my sport.”

Tennis was a shit sport.

Well thats what Evelyn thought everytime she couldn’t hit an ace or tripped on herself chasing the ball when she’d play with Amira. She hated not understanding something at the first try, so you can imagine her disdain when her first try turns into 4th, 4th turns into 10th and she still stumbling and missing the ball. Though she studied every video on the internet with famous tennis players and listened to each video on tennis terms for the past week, it felt like she knew nothing when she reached the court. But one thing that’ll forever remain true about Evelyn Auclair’s character was that she was no quitter.

She proved this point,as she walked inside the indoor tennis court with long strides in her tank top and tennis shorts reading the text from Amira stating that she’ll be running late. ‘When has she ever been on time?’ Evelyn questioned walking to their usual court, about to place her bag on one of the benches between the courts. And as she lifted up her head from her phone her movement came to a halt as she made eye contact with the match in front of her.

Art.

Her eyes landing on the dirt-blonde, her stomach immediately erupting with butterflies as she watched the match between him and Patrick. Though she had expected to see them here practicing sooner or later, she still felt shocked to see them. She stood in the middle of the courts bag still attached to her back completely forgetting about it, just observing the game in front of her.

Today’s practice courts were coincidentally empty , only housing the three and nobody else. So the only sounds heard where the two boys’ grunts and the ‘thwack!’ of the ball as it makes contact with the rackets.

And as the ball was passed between the two white boys, she noticed how precise Patricks serves were compared to Arts. Delivering accurate hits each time that had no clear formula to study but was simply driven by the determination to win at all cost necessary. She had also realized that she had walked in on their last set as Patrick delivered a perfect backhand that Art missed, crowning Patrick as the winner of the match.

Though Patrick won, Evelyn couldn’t help that her eyes were glued on Art after the game. How out of breathe he seemed to be and though he lost he still playfully smirked at Patrick as he walked towards him, his sweat glistening on his skin in the brightly lit court,his tongue darting to moisture his lips.

His eyes focused on Patrick who greeted him with a sly smile as he pulled Arts arm towards him, creating little distance between themselves, wiping Arts face as he began saying something that Evelyn couldn’t quite catch before lightly tapping Arts face. As he took a few slow steps backwards creating distance between themselves grinning ear to ear before turning completely around walking off the court and seemingly towards Evelyn direction.

Evelyns hands sweaty as she watches Art following behind Patrick rolling his eyes, saying something she still couldn’t decipher with a smug grin. Walking closer, Evelyn realising that they were literally walking directly towards her. She looked around for Amira as she was still nowhere to be found, only making eye contact with the bags that were placed messily on a bench near her.

She stood right next to their bags so obviously they’d be heading in her direction. She internally rolled her eyes as she thought of how delusional she was for almost thinking that they were coming to her. Evelyn stood and watched them walk past her to their bags paying her no mind as they continued to chat amongst themselves.

“Cmon Art, that backhand serve was cinematic, admit it!” boasted Patrick as he shoved his items into his bag, Art doing the same with a ghost smile while listen to the brunette ramble on about their match.

And as Art picked up his bag, he locked eyes with Evelyn, maintaining eye contact for a moment before politely smiles at her.

And even though it was just a smile that had no real intentions behind it, at that moment Evelyn experienced feelings she felt the first time she had watched them play. The indescribable emotions she felt that day came rushing back.

Evelyn smiles back almost immediately, her dimple making an appearance, clutching the strap of her bag.

“You were amazing,” she blurts out catching the attention of both boys, she internally cringes at how direct and poorly she worded that,straightening her back as she corrects herself. “in the game that you just played obviously. And last week’s double match. You both were.” She states darting her eyes to Patrick for just a moment before her eyes went back to Art as she couldn’t seem to keep them from the dirt blonde.

Smiling softly Art utters out a thank you about to say something else interrupted by Patrick wrapping his arm around Arts shoulder with a cocked head and toothy grin.

“You’re too kind. i actually thought this game was horrible. In particular, this asshole was half assing it the whole game” Art just rolls his eyes, shoving him off him. Patrick paying him no mind as he placed his hand on his chest with the same grin,“Im Patrick.” introducing himself even though he knew that she was aware of who they were by the glint in her eyes. “And this is Art.” he stated, pointing to his best friend.

“I saw you last week at our game. You were the one who screamed ‘Lets Go!’ right?” Patrick questioned as he stared with amusement at Evelyn, who nodded with an embarrassed smile on her face. “Never heard anyone shout like that at any of our games.” Patrick stated,smiling he continues, “I didn’t catch your name by the way.”

And with a small smile and a heated face, she softly introduced herself,

“Evelyn.”

CURRENTLY,

“Evelyn?”

Evelyns head slowly lifted up to the source of her name, to be met with the same hooded blue eyes she fell in loved with.

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#art donaldson #patrick zweig #challengers #x black reader #x reader #tashi duncan #books #challengers x reader #challengers 2024 #april 2024 #sad tragic #i slept at 2am so couldn’t really proofread this

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nickeverdeen · 5 months

Text

Whispers of the heart | Kit Tanthalos x fem!reader

The sound of clashing swords echoed in the training grounds as Kit and Jade engaged in a spirited bout. You stood by, attentively watching the exchange, arrows tucked into your makeshift quiver. As Kit executed a well-timed strike, she noticed your gaze and flashed a triumphant grin.

"See that move, Y/N? You could learn a thing or two from me," Kit teased, her confidence radiating.

You chuckled, taking the banter in stride. "Maybe, Kit, but archery requires finesse, not brute force."

Jade joined the conversation, offering a playful jab at Kit's training style. "Y/N's got a point. Sometimes subtlety can outmatch strength."

Kit, undeterred, twirled her sword with a flourish. "I'll take my strength over subtlety any day."

The banter continued as the trio ventured into a light-hearted discussion about their respective training preferences. As Jade offered guidance on refining Kit's technique, you interjected with insights on precision and accuracy drawn from her archery experience.

The sun began its descent, casting a warm hue over the training grounds. Kit wiped the sweat from her brow, turning to you. "You know, archery might have its merits."

You raised an eyebrow in mock surprise. "Oh? Admitting that subtlety has its place in the world?"

Kit's laughter rang out. "Maybe I'll ask you to teach me someday, when I'm not busy saving my brother’s ass."

The camaraderie between the three grew stronger with each passing day. As you and Kit continued to exchange playful banter, Jade found joy in watching their friendship flourish. Beneath the moonlit sky, the training grounds transformed into a haven of shared laughter, dreams, and unwavering support.

One evening, as they rested after an intense training session, Kit broached a topic that had lingered in her thoughts. "Y/N, you never talk much about your life before Tir Asleen. What brought you here?"

Your expression softened, your eyes reflecting the flickering flames of the nearby torches. "It's a long story, Princess, but sure I'll share it with you."

Seated in a circle, the trio delved into the intricacies of your past. The night unfolded with stories of a distant village, a peasantry burdened by injustice, and your journey to Tir Asleen in pursuit of a life free from oppression.

As the revelations unfolded, Kit and Jade listened attentively, offering empathetic nods and words of encouragement. The bond between them deepened, transcending the boundaries of royalty and commoner.

In the quiet moments that followed, Kit looked at you with newfound understanding. Their conversations became a tapestry of shared experiences, dreams, and vulnerabilities. You and Kit found solace in each other's stories, forging a connection that defied the societal norms attempting to dictate their paths.

As the moon hung high in the sky, casting a gentle glow over the training grounds, the princess, the archer, and the swordswoman continued their journey of camaraderie, laughter, and unwavering friendship.

———

As the months passed, Kit found herself captivated by more than just your archery skills. There was an unspoken connection between you two, a magnetic force that drew Kit in whenever you trained together. Each clash of swords seemed to spark an invisible energy, leaving Kit feeling a mix of exhilaration and confusion.

Jade, ever perceptive, couldn't help but notice the subtle shifts in Kit's demeanor. With a mischievous glint in her eye, she began teasing Kit relentlessly, especially during moments when you were out of earshot.

"Kit, you seem a bit distracted today. Anything on your mind?" Jade quipped, a sly smile playing on her lips.

Kit shot her a glance, a mixture of irritation and embarrassment. "Nothing, Jade. Just focused on the training."

Jade chuckled knowingly. "Focused, huh? Is that what they taught you to call it?"

Kit's cheeks flushed, and she swatted Jade with the flat of her sword. "You're reading too much into it."

Jade feigned innocence. "Oh, am I? It's just amusing how you and Y/N have this... almost sexual tension when you're sparring."

Kit rolled her eyes, attempting to brush off Jade's comments. However, the seed of realization had been planted, and Kit couldn't deny the truth in Jade's words.

One day, as you and Kit engaged in a particularly intense sparring session, Jade couldn't resist making her presence known. She whistled from the sidelines, interrupting your rhythm. "Wow, if I didn't know better, I'd say there's a storm brewing here. Anyone else feel the heat?"

Kit shot Jade an exasperated look, but her heart raced in sync with the rhythm of the blades. You, oblivious to the underlying tension, raised an eyebrow at the teasing.

"What's going on, Kit? Jade seems to think we're putting on a show," you said with a bemused expression.

Kit stammered, attempting to brush it off. "Jade's just being... Jade. You know it."

Jade winked at Kit, enjoying every moment of her best friend's discomfort. "I'm just saying, there's a certain spark in the air. You two might want to address it before the entire kingdom starts placing bets."

As you and Kit continued your training, the unspoken tension lingered, creating a dynamic that neither could fully grasp. Kit, conflicted by her growing feelings, struggled to maintain composure. Jade, on the other hand, reveled in the unfolding drama, eager to see how it would play out.

In the quiet moments after training, Kit often found herself stealing glances at you, contemplating whether to confront the truth or let the unspoken connection linger in the realm of ambiguity.

———

Kit and Jade engaged in a casual discussion as they prepared the training grounds for the day. The morning sun cast a warm glow, and the air buzzed with anticipation. Jade couldn't help but bring up a topic that had been lingering in the air.

"You know, Kit, you don't have to be so subtle about it," Jade remarked with a playful grin.

Kit raised an eyebrow, feigning innocence. "Subtle about what?"

Jade chuckled. "About your feelings for Y/N, of course. Everyone can see it, even Airk and that’s a lot to say."

Kit rolled her eyes, dismissing the notion. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

As they continued setting things up, you approached, having overheard their conversation. You stumbled slightly on purpose, a subtle signal that you were well aware of the topic at hand. Without acknowledging it directly, you joined the conversation seamlessly.

"Morning, you two. What's the plan for today?" You asked, your tone light.

Jade exchanged a knowing glance with Kit, who tried to maintain composure. "Just the usual routine. Kit here is working on her sword skills."

You nodded, a small smile playing on your lips. "Sounds like a plan. Let me know if you need any help."

As the training session commenced, you couldn't help but steal glances at Kit in action. The rhythmic clash of swords echoed through the air, and Kit's prowess left an impression. You found herself captivated, realizing that your feelings were evolving beyond friendship.

Amidst the camaraderie and shared laughter, unspoken emotions lingered beneath the surface, gradually weaving a tale of friendship and a growing connection between the princess, the archer.

———

Under the canopy of the garden, you and Kit strolled along, the quiet rustle of leaves accompanying your footsteps. Kit couldn't help but notice the subtle warmth between you two as your hands brushed, each touch sending a flutter through her.

As you walked, your blush deepened, and Kit couldn't help but be intrigued by the unusual sight. Finally, under the shade of a dark tree, you settled beneath the branches, gazing up at the stars scattered across the night sky.

The air held a sense of anticipation as Kit mustered the courage to open up. "Y/N," she began, her voice soft in the quietude of the night, "there's something I've been meaning to tell you."

You turned to her, her eyes reflecting the starlight. "What is it, Kit?"

Taking a deep breath, Kit confessed, "I… Y/N all I care about is you. And if you wanna come prehaps even run away to live somewhere freely, I would tag along, if that’s okay. ‘Cause I don’t wanna have any adventures unless they’re with you. I should’ve told you sooner, you know? And for that I am so sorry. I love you Y/N."

The confession hung in the air, and Kit anxiously awaited your response. The garden, once filled with the sounds of the night, now held a stillness that seemed to echo the beating of your hearts.

The soft glow of moonlight bathed the garden, casting a magical ambiance over you and Kit. As Kit hesitated, wondering if she had made a mistake, your lips met hers in a gentle yet passionate kiss. The world around you two seemed to fade as you became lost in the warmth of each other's embrace.

You, breaking the kiss with a smile, whispered, "I love you too, Kit."

The admission hung in the air, a delicate revelation that opened a new chapter in your relationship. You continued to sit beneath the tree, your fingers entwined with Kit's as you exchanged stories, dreams, and whispered confessions.

As the night deepened, your laughter echoed through the garden, blending with the soft rustle of leaves and the distant murmur of the night. Kit, captivated by the genuine warmth in your eyes, couldn't help but marvel at the depth of your connection.

You moved to a quiet corner under a blossoming tree, where Kit often went when she needed some silence. The fragrance of flowers mingled with the crisp night air as you settled, side by side, on a stone bench. The stars above you two twinkled as if conspiring to keep your secret.

In a small awe by the magic of the night, Kit leaned in to steal a sweet kiss, savoring the taste of the moment. You responded with a tender passion, your fingers gently tracing patterns on Kit's arm. It was a dance of hearts, an unspoken language that surpassed words.

As the night wore on, you eventually found yourselves lying on the cool grass, cuddled together like pieces of a puzzle fitting seamlessly. You, usually the more reserved of the two, nuzzled into Kit's embrace, her heartbeat echoing the rhythm of the garden.

Amid whispered promises and playful banter, the hours slipped away, marking a turning point in their lives. Kit, stroking your hair gently, couldn't shake the feeling that your love story had just begun.

The night, filled with starlight and shared secrets, embraced you until you drifted into a peaceful slumber in the garden. The dawn would bring challenges, but for now, you and Kit found refuge in the warmth of your love, intertwined beneath the celestial canvas of the night sky.

———

During the training, Jade couldn't help but notice the unspoken tension between you and Kit. During a break, she decided to address the elephant in the room.

"Okay, spill it, you two," Jade said with a sly grin. "There's something happening here, and I'm not buying the 'just training' excuse."

Kit exchanged a quick glance with you, and you shared a silent agreement to open up to Jade. Taking a deep breath, Kit began, "Well, you see, it's not just training. Y/N and I... we got together"

You, though a bit shy, nodded in agreement. "Yeah, it's true. We've been getting closer, and our feelings have evolved beyond friendship."

Jade's eyes widened with excitement. "Finally! I've been waiting for this moment. Do you know how long I've had to endure the tension between you two? Spill the details."

Kit chuckled nervously. "It's still new, Jade. We're taking things one step at a time. But there was a moment in the gardens, and, well, things got a bit more serious."

You blushed but continued, "And we decided to see where this takes us. We're not hiding it, but we're also not making a grand announcement. It's complicated, especially considering the kingdom's stance on such matters."

Jade, thrilled by your confessions, grinned widely. "This is perfect! I've been shipping you two for ages. Just promise me I get to be the bridesmaid when you finally decide to tie the knot."

You and Kit laughed, grateful for Jade's support and understanding. The trio continued their training, now with an added layer of shared secrets, inside jokes, and the unspoken promise of a future filled with both challenges and the undeniable bond that tied them together.

————————————————————

Okay this is horrible and is extremely short, but I hope you guys like it! Feel free to give me any suggestions on how I can improve other imagines in the future.

Love you, stay safe and healthy 🫶💚

#imagine #kit tanthalos #kit tanthalos x reader #kit tanthalos x you #jade claymore #jade claymore x reader #kit tanthalos imagine #willow series #willow kit #wlw

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missmielyhoran · 11 months

Text

Long Live

Harry does his first ever tiktok live...

90sRockstar!Harry × Model!Reader

A/N- i- just read this...I cried thinking about this

(It's 2023, Harry and Reader are in their early 50s, Jackson and Sophie- 19)

Masterlist // Series Masterlist

*****

"Angel do I look good?" Harry asks you as he props his phone on the stand Jackson setup before he went to the studio.

"You always do Baby" You chuckled from the loveseat watching your husband fix his graying hair for millionth time.

It's been a long time since Harry and band stopped performing. The last album they released was almost five years ago and today was band's 25th birthday. So, Harry's management asked him to do a live stream.

He obviously didn't how amything worked considering the old man he was which you always told he wasn't seeing as people your age were still having kids while yours were about to go to college.

He felt old.

He noticed the whole time he was live as multiple comments rolled in. He thought tiktok was fun, Sophie even got him to make some with him which he thought was silly but again very fun.

"Hi I'm Harry" He introduced himself as if everyone already didn't know who he was. You shook your head amused.

"Oh there are so many people. How do I talk to them? Is it like face time?" He asked you but you were just as confused.

"I think you read the comments and reply to them babe" You guessed as you saw multiple people asking different questions and some sending weird emojis.

"Oh" He read the comments and laughed, "They want to see you Angel" He said and pulled you from the loveseat to beside him and wrapped his arms around your frame.

"Hi" You said laughing.

"As you all know it's my band's 25th anniversary so I decided to this live thingy my kids taught me the other day. I can't perform anymore any of us can't especially Mitch and his old man bones" he said teasingly knowing his best friend will see this.

"My kids are so smart cause if it was upto me I would've never been able to do this" He said as he read people finding it funny and sweet that he didn't know how to use tiktok.

As if on queue Sophie walked into the living room typing away on her phone.

"Sweety come here and say hi. I'm live on tiktok" Harry said eagerly. Sophie laughed and slid beside her dad putting her head on his shoulder.

"Do you guys know she got into Harvard? All by herself." Harry said proudly, "I don't even know where she got it from none of us are smart"

"Hey, I'm smarter than you" You said slapping his chest.

"I'm dumb as fuck Angel, Evie is smarter than me" He said laughing which turned into a cackle when Evie meowed from her bed half asleep across the room.

Harry decided to read some more comments and you decided to get onto preparing lunch. Sophie sat on the sofa letting her dad do her thing but also be there if he needed something.

"Hey, sweetie what does b and 4 means?" Harry asked quizzical to his daughter.

"It means before dad, like b and four" She explained, Harry's face morphed into a 'ohh' expression.

"That's smart" He said nodding his head. He read some more comments when someone put sunglasses on his face.

"Someone put sunglasses on me" He laughed and posed as if he was wearing real sunglasses, "This is fun"

He saw someone say 'brb gotta cry' and he felt bad, "I don't know who brb is but please don't cry" He said his lips turning into a soft frown.

Sophie laughed from her seat and explained to her dad that it didn't mean someone was literally crying which made him feel embarrassed flushing his face a bit.

Harry was having fun with this new technology nonetheless and Sophie was having fun watching her dad experience new things. She knew this will be added to the plathora of Harry Styles compilations there are on YouTube (which he very much enjoys watching).

She was lost in thought of maybe teching him how to use instagram and maybe doing a live there also when he spoke up again.

*****

"Why are so many people here calling me dilf? what's a dilf?" He asked confused and Sophie decided that she is not letting him do live again.

Idk where this came from I was listening to Long live by Tay. also by sweating I meant this emoji 🥵

Taglist- @tenaciousperfectionunknown @that-daydream-look @harryspirate @tiaamberxx @lomlhstyles @vmpellie @sunshinemoonsposts @jayde515 @yeehawbrothers @sleutherclaw @ikea2-0 @thechaoticjoy @astridcommings @grapejuicebluesrry @gxbiqs

Like, Comment and Reblog cause it really helps me🩷

If you liked it please tell me here♡ and I love you guysssss

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bring-backup-99 · 2 months

Text

First Time’s The Charm

Read on Ao3

PAIRING: Tech x Phee

SUMMARY: Some sweet smut about Tech and Phee’s first time together

WORDS COUNT: 2501

RATING + WARNINGS: 18+, very spicy, porn with feelings, PiV, fluff, kissing

NOTES: When I’m not working on my Batch reverse harem “Bad Choices” smutlet series on Ao3, I occasionally write other stuff. I have a long form WIP that will probably never be finished, so you all might as well have the smut from it.

And yes, this is virgin Tech (which is basically the opposite of him in Bad Choices), though I will fight people if they suggest that he couldn’t still be good at sex from the start. The man loves research. He knows what and where a clitoris is. I will die on this hill.

The first night Tech had stayed with Phee, it had simply been a matter of them talking too late and falling asleep on her couch. When they’d woken up in the soft morning light, both had felt sheepish. She’d laughed it off.

“You’ll fall asleep anywhere, Brown Eyes.” He didn’t deny it.

A few days later, they were in her little workshop, telling each other stories, true stories, while she cataloged and he tinkered. As he walked her home, their hands brushed together until finally their fingers slowly intertwined. He didn’t come in, but they stood in the moonlight outside her door holding hands and talked about everything but what was happening between them.

When they had first met, so many rotations ago, she had liked him immediately, primarily because he was handsome, and then later because he was kind, brilliant, intense, and strong. He was so different from the other men she knew. Bringing them all to Pabu was impulsive, but she’d never regret doing it, giving them a safe space where they were appreciated for their kindness and desire to help, where they flourished, where Omega could have a home.

He began walking her home every night, and they would stand outside holding hands, until finally, one night, she leaned into him and he put his arm around her.

“This is nice, Tech,” she’d said, using his real name to show how serious she was. He’d looked down at her.

“Yes. I would use that descriptor as well.”

Impulsively, she’d risen onto her toes and pressed her lips to his. For a moment, she was afraid she’d gone too far. His body had stiffened abruptly, but just as quickly it relaxed. The kiss was sweet and soft, close-mouthed. He’d pulled away slightly.

“I have never kissed anyone before.”

The words overwhelmed Phee. She had thought it was possible his life hadn’t allowed such things, and she wanted to be careful.

“Is this okay? We don’t have to.” Tech stopped her by lifting her chin so they could kiss again. She pulled him in, and they stayed on her couch while she taught him something new. He was a fast learner.

He stayed with her almost every night, slowly divesting himself of the various layers that he wore as the evenings passed. First, his utility belt and pouches. The night he took off his gloves, and she had felt his bare hands on her own, against her face and neck, had made her giddy. She spent the next day mooning over him like she was a schoolgirl. She chided herself for it; she was too old and wise for this nonsense, but Phee couldn’t stop.

And it was the night he took off his goggles because their kissing had knocked them askew for the umpteenth time that she knew she’d truly fallen for him. Someone’s eyes shouldn’t have that power over her, yet she’d never met anyone so absolutely honest that it reflected perfectly in their gaze. Phee’d been with other people, of course, but she’d never let them into her life the way she let Tech in.

Because she trusted him, and she knew this gesture from him was because he trusted her too.

“Can this come off tonight?” she whispered, running her hands over the chest of his blacks. Their embrace tonight had been particularly passionate and she wanted him as close to her as possible.

“Yes, I would find that acceptable.”

"Let me know if you feel uncomfortable, Brown Eyes."

"Just...proceed slowly."

Phee was trying to do just that. She’d imagined the first time they had sex, that she’d take him to a field of flowers or a beach at sunset…or the back of a library. But now she knew none of those was going to happen.

She circled him, her hand never breaking contact as she felt the contours of his body under the fabric. Finally, she faced him and slowly pulled up the shirt. She ran the back of her hand against his skin, noted that he was hardly breathing. She waited for him to relax, then pulled the shirt off, leaving his torso fully bare. She could feel his tension as he lay back on the bed, his eyes slightly glazed.

“Are you okay?” she asked as she lay beside him.

“Yes,” but the word was almost inaudible.

Tentatively, she stroked his chest, waiting for his breathing to return to normal. She didn’t know what she expected, but his slim, muscular frame fulfilled any fantasy she had had. Her fingers fluttered over a scar on his shoulder.

"Droid," he said. Another scar on his side. "Knife wound. Not from Hunter," he smiled. He turned slightly and showed her one on his hip. "Shrapnel, only partially because of Wrecker." She leaned over, kissing each of them. Hungry for him, she kissed a trail from his hip to his chest. Impulsively, she licked his nipple, and he cried out in shock. Phee drew back quickly.

“I'm sorry."

"No, no. That felt...intense. I was not expecting it.” He drew her to him, kissed her, then whispered, "Do it again."

Hungrily, her lips moved along his neck, drinking in every reaction he had to her touch, then down to his other nipple. Tentatively, she licked it, feeling the hitch in his breathing, then gently raked it with her teeth. He moaned. She did the same on the other side, reveling in his response to her.

His hands began to roam around her body, finding their way under her shirt. On fire, she pulled it off and let him explore her at his own pace. She was desperate to feel his skin against her own, but she did not want to overwhelm him. As she had explored him, his hands did the same to her; caressing the small of her back, the nape of her neck, the curve of her breasts. She gasped at his touch, inflamed, desperate for more. He pulled her closer, and she pressed her body against his, chest to chest. He rolled on top of her, lips locked together, one of his legs between her own. All her control was gone.

She let her hand slide down to the growing bulge in his pants.

"I want to touch you," she said, giving him time to stop her, but he was as inflamed as she was. He groaned and arched his back as her hand cupped him. His responses to her were unbelievable, feeding the flames of her desire.

“Please, take this off.” She fumbled at his pants. “Please, if you are ready.”

He stood and pulled them off, as she slipped out of the rest of her clothes. Standing next to him, looking into his eyes, she took his erection in her hand. It took every ounce of his self control not to climax right then, the sensations were so overwhelming. She pushed him back onto the bed and straddled him. She leaned forward to kiss him and look into his beautiful eyes. She took his hand, and together they guided his length into her as she lowered herself onto him.

He cried out as he entered her. She moved slowly, never breaking eye contact, until he was fully inside her.

“Tech, if you become uncomfortable or need us to stop—”

“I can manage,” he said, his jaw clenched, his eyes focused on her, fingers intertwined. She waited a few moments, letting their bodies acclimate to the new sensations, then together they slowly began moving, finding a rhythm that suited them both.

He held her hips and pushed his pelvis up to be as deep inside her as he could. Her gasps and cries excited him in a way he had never felt, his body responding on instinct as she rocked against him more insistently.

He could see her eyes losing focus, even as he could sense the same in himself, as he felt the build up in his body, a pressure he had never experienced and did not fully understand. This was so different from the furtive, utilitarian fumblings he managed in the ‘fresher when the need arose.

In a move that took her breath away, he pressed himself up, put his arm around her waist, and rotated both of them so he was on top of her. The absolutely feral cry she gave him as her limbs wrapped around his body nearly sent him over the edge. He held her close, trying to slow down, to make this last longer, this sweet, intense, incredible feeling.

She refused to let it happen. She rocked her pelvis against him, desperate for him to lose control, to match her passion. He gasped.

"I need to...Phee, if you do not stop…I am too close," he groaned.

"We'll do this again," she whispered. "I want you. I want you inside me. I want to feel you." She felt incoherent, but she also felt him let go. He lifted one of her legs, hooking it over his arm, giving him an angle to somehow be deeper inside her. His body took over, his thrusts stronger, wilder. Her hands pressed on his lower back, encouraging him.

Her moans of, "Yes, please, yes. Tech. Yes," finally put him over the edge. The absolute bliss of the orgasm was almost too much for him. He buried his head in her neck, drowning himself in her essence, as it pulsed over his body. He lay still on top of her for what he thought was an eternity as the sensation slowly drifted away, leaving him tingling all over like exposed nerves.

Cautiously, she stroked her hand down his back. He shuddered a bit but didn't say anything, then slowly slid out of her as he rolled next to her.

"That was amazing," she whispered.

“I…quite agree.” He lifted his head and looked at her, "But you did not..." His voice trailed off.

She smiled, kissed him, "That's not always the most important part of sex. The...intimacy...this closeness I feel with you, right now. This is better. But also, that was still incredible. You're a natural."

"I did do some research before this encounter…Though it did not prepare me for the intensity of the physical stimulation." She laughed.

"Why is that funny? As I do not have any experience in this area, I wanted to be prepared."

"The idea of you doing research about this on your datapad is very funny, but I'm not going to complain about the results." She rolled out of bed to clean up.

"It will take a little time before I can physically do this again, but.." For a moment he seemed almost shy, "...would you want to when I am ready?"

She got back into the bed, snuggling next to him.

"Yes," she said huskily.

“You were correct,” he said, pulling her close against him, “This was... special. More than just a physical act.” He felt foolish for ever having suggested otherwise in one of their long conversations. His voice drifted off, and she thought he might fall asleep, but instead they lay in wakeful silence, intertwined.

“What is going on in there?" she asked.

In reply, his hands again began roaming over her body. Lightly, his fingertips raised goosebumps on her arms and down her back. She shivered but felt herself opening again for him. His fingers caressed her breasts, tracing a path around them until he moved and his mouth found her hard nipples. He gently stimulated one, then the other, with his tongue.

Now that his mind had cleared, he was studying her carefully. Every action and response was filed away. His hand stroked down her side, then to her already parted legs. He kissed her as his fingers explored between her legs, and he drank up her moans. He slid a wet finger up until he found her clit and just barely made contact with it, feeling her body tighten at the touch. He rubbed against it and was rewarded with a deep gasp. He slid two fingers inside of her, leaving his thumb to work against her sensitive nub. Her reaction was instant. Her thighs closed around his hand, and she groaned as his long fingers reached deeper into her.

"Tech," she whispered. "I need you...I need you inside me."

"Yes, but this type of stimulation will help you to orgasm. I want to ensure that first."

She shook her head, "Oh it feels so good, but I...I don't finish like that. I need..." In her state, words were hard to come by, "...the internal stimulation."

It took only a moment for him to process this, and then, "It does seem as if I am ready to fulfill this need." Her hand had been stroking him to hardness, but he was so focused on her he had barely noticed.

He pressed into her, slowly, each stroke entering her only a little more than the last, until one had a very pronounced reaction. Then he came up slightly on his knees, lifting her legs with him, sure that this angle would allow him better access to this most important spot. He began with short thrusts and was rewarded by her immediate cries.

"Yes, oh, Tech, yes, right there," though her physical reaction would have been enough for him to know he had gotten it right. Her hands had grabbed onto the covers, clawing at the sheets. He timed himself to match the crescendo of her moans and whimpers, varying his strokes, sometimes deep, sometimes shallow, then returning to stimulate this more sensitive area, watching the build up of tension in her body, noting how her arms moved in spasms, her eyes closed tight, her mouth whispering incoherently.

Suddenly her fingers were digging into his forearm, her cries a higher pitched staccato than what had come before, and he watched the orgasm overtake her body. She writhed under him, his thrusts against her sensitive inner wall bringing wave after wave of pleasure. As her reaction finally subsided, he lay over the top of her, kissing her deeply, drinking in everything about her, feeling almost more satisfied now than when he had had his own orgasm. He rocked into her gently, feeling the length of himself enclosed in her, enjoying this unimagined intimacy and reveling in the whole of her.

She wrapped her arms around him, holding him as close as she could, breathing him into her. He pressed his forehead to hers as he let the second orgasm flow through his body, kissing her, needing her, wanting her.

“Good job, Brown Eyes,” she smiled. “Hard to believe that was your first time.” She liked seeing that satisfied glint in his eyes that came from praise.

“Yes, well, there is always room for improvement, especially since there seem to be an infinite variety of positions, techniques, and implements that can be used to enhance—”

She silenced him with her lips. “Slow down. Let’s just enjoy tonight.”

And they did.

* *

I also write a smutty Bad Batch reverse harem series that can be found here.

Warning: It gets kinky.

#tech x phee #pheetech #techphee #techphee smut #phee genoa #tbb tech #tech bad batch #bad batch #bad batch tech #clone trooper tech #tech the bad batch #bad batch phee #tbb phee #phee tbb #the bad batch smut #tech smut #the bad batch

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naughtyneganjdm · 7 months

Text

Naughty or Nice - Chapter 4

Summary: Y/N inadvertently gets closer to Negan and his children while also distancing herself further from her family.

Characters: Negan, the reader (OC), Maggie, Glenn, Greene Family, etc.

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/51464518/chapters/130908127

Warnings: 18+, Swearing, angst, small amounts of smut, etc.

Notes: Thanks for taking the time to read. If you celebrate today, I hope you have a nice day. This is a gift for you if you are bored and need a distraction as well. I appreciate all of you.

It had been a long time since Negan had felt like a teenage boy in love. Yet, with Y/N sitting over him with her fingers hooked with his while they talked, he felt like he did when he was a kid falling in love with Lucille all over again. Between her laughter and her expressions while she asked questions about his life, Negan found himself absolutely smitten with her.

“Favorite color?” Y/N listed off another question making Negan’s nose wrinkle in amusement. “Come on, you spent forever asking me questions. Now it’s my turn.”

“I know, I know. These are serious fucking questions,” Negan teased her, a rumble of laughter falling from his throat with her fingers hooking tighter with his. “Black or red. Most of my attire is black so it’s probably black, but there is something about red that I like.”

“I feel like I probably knew that answer,” she teased him getting more comfortable over him while they learned things about one another. “Favorite drink?”

“Coke. The soda,” Negan answered her, tipping his head back into the pillows from where they were at. “If I’m trying to be healthy, I’m just going to go with water. The coke just sometimes helps me from smoking. I also live on coffee.”

“What’s your favorite kind of coffee?” she followed up with finding herself smitten with the man beneath her while his thumb stroked at her pulse point.

“I like variety. I just need a lot of caffeine to get me through,” Negan informed her with a loud sigh. “I pretty much live on coffee, Coca-Cola and cigarettes. Candy sometimes too.”

“Sounds extreme,” she teased him, bobbing her head when Negan shrugged his shoulders. “Are the cigarettes a stress relief for you?”

“I tried to stop. I really did, but it’s hard,” Negan answered with a long sigh, his dimples sinking in when he thought about all the times he tried to stop in the past for his kids and Lucille. “It’s really the only bad thing I do. Well…for the most part. I tried, but nothing works. It was a bad habit I started in high school and it just never left me.”

“I see,” she hummed adjusting her positioning over him. “What about your favorite food?”

“That kind of switches up too,” Negan knew that he wasn’t giving her the best answers, but they were the most truthful. “I enjoy pizza, hot dogs…occasionally I’m in the mood for some good sushi. I do enjoy lobster rolls when I get the chance to have them.”

“A man of taste,” she snickered leaning down enough to steal a quick kiss from his lips that had him humming out. “Was Lucille the first woman you slept with?”

“She was,” Negan responded against her lips, pulling back enough so that his big eyes were locked with hers. “We were teenagers. Madly in love. And then we kind of fell apart, but time always brought me back to her. What about you? Was Glenn your first?”

“God no,” she snickered, her eyes turning somewhat serious while she thought about the question. “I never found something like what you had with Lucille. So it always makes me happy to hear about things like that. I’m just sad about what happened to her.”

“That’s not your fault,” Negan’s eyebrows furrowed, his lips parting when he thought about Lucille. “No one ever expects to get cancer. Unfortunately, it was pancreatic cancer and it happened so fast. We were told the survival rate was really low, but I was hoping because Lucille was the strongest woman I ever knew she would be able to beat it. I prayed a lot. More than I ever had in my life. It really just taught me to appreciate every moment we have in this life because we don’t know how much time we have left. Because eventually, if you don’t, you find yourself missing out on the things that you could have had all along.”

“Jesus,” she frowned, a lump growing in her throat hearing Negan’s confession to her about his wife. Loosening her fingers with one of his hands, she extended her hand out to sweep in over his cheek in a tender caress. “I’m so sorry.”

“Me too,” Negan whispered, turning into her hand to press a kiss over the inside of her palm. “I think you two would have gotten along very well. She was awesome. Your personalities from what I’ve learned about you are a lot alike. Just two really incredible, badass women that know their worth and just light up a room when they are in it.”

Gazing up at the lights that Y/N had put up in the attic for him, Negan pointed toward them and cracked a smile, “Literally.”

“I feel bad that I never took the time to know you. I just thought you were this guy that hated me because I took the job that you wanted,” she brushed her fingers throughout Negan’s hair, her eyes showing the emotion that she felt for him in that moment. “There is so much more to you than what I thought there was.”

“There is still a lot to learn,” Negan used his free hand to reach up to grasp her jaw between his thumb and index finger. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m still an infuriating pain in the ass at times. Don’t think I’m not. I can be the biggest asshole. I have a swearing problem and the humor of a teenage boy. But there are a lot of layers here.”

“No kidding,” she smirked enjoying the way that his thumb caressed over her jawline. Sighing, she lowered down in over Negan and cuddled her head in against his chest. Almost immediately Negan wrapped her up in his arms to hold her, his chin cuddling in over the top of her head. Listening to the sounds of his strong heartbeat, she sighed and bit down on her bottom lip. “Negan? What’s wrong with Maggie?”

“What do you mean?” Negan’s fingers caressed up and over the lengths of her back, leading to her neck while she got comfortable over him.

“Maggie was always the perfect one. Everyone loved Maggie. Everyone,” she educated Negan about the past with her sister. “I never hated Maggie, she really was the whole package. Beautiful, outgoing, charming…”

“I don’t think there is anything wrong with Maggie,” Negan began, a loud exhale falling from his throat when the idea of his girlfriend was fresh on the mind. “Maggie is beautiful and there are a lot of good things about her. I just…when you know, you know. And I never felt that spark with her. I enjoy having her around, but I know it’s more so a case of I like not feeling lonely. I love Maggie, but I’m not in love with Maggie. I know that sounds awful. It’s just there are some people you connect with, but not in a way where you feel like you are meant to be with that person.”

“And why do you think I’m that person?” she leaned back, pressing her hand in over his chest to steal a look up at him. All of this perplexed her. When it came to it, anyone in her life that knew both her and Maggie always picked Maggie. “You’re so convinced that there is something here.”

“Because last night, I felt that spark. Fuck, it hit me like a bag of bricks,” Negan responded, his fingers sweeping in over the side of her face. Everything he said seemed so sincere and it took her breath away. No one in her life really ever said the things to her that Negan was saying. “When you meet that person, you feel physical pain when you’re not with them. After you walked out of that car, I was in pain because I knew that I wasn’t going to be able to see you. When you texted me last night, I was smiling so much that Beau asked me if something good happened at work because I looked happier than I usually did. Most of my life, I put on this fake smile,” Negan flashed the charming, bright smile that he always had on his face before exhaling and shaking his head, “but it’s usually fake. It’s a façade. I hide my pain behind these fucking dimples and this smile. But last night, it was real. And my boy caught onto it because he is more perceptive than anyone I know. Once you and I connected…I just know this is it.”

“It’s been one day,” she reminded him and he shrugged. It was something she also had to remind herself. Yes, she had known Negan for a few months, but they really hadn’t connected on a personal level until last night.

“I don’t care,” Negan breathed out, his fingers brushing her hair out of her face. “I know how I feel. I know it’s wrong and I feel…bad, but Maggie shouldn’t be with someone that doesn’t feel that special feeling that I’m describing. And I don’t think Glenn deserves to be led on either.”

“Glenn is such a good guy,” she noted, her sigh loud when she laid her head back down over Negan’s chest. “There is nothing wrong with Glenn either. That’s why I always thought the problem was me. Why would I not be satisfied with someone who is perfect?”

“Like I said, someone can be perfect. But that doesn’t mean they are perfect for you,” Negan responded, his heartrate growing faster the more he thought about things. Being with Maggie was Negan settling. And that was not what he deserved in life. “I know it might feel like we’re rushing things here Y/N, but fuck…after how I lost the last person I care about, why would I want to waste any time with someone I feel so strongly for?”

“I’m not supposed to like you like this,” she gasped feeling Negan rolling her over onto her back so that way he could crawl in over her pinning her beneath him. Having Negan’s eyes on hers like they were took her breath away. “Everything says we shouldn’t be together.”

“Yet here we fucking are,” Negan slurred, his fingers curling around the side of her neck and his thumb drawing out over her jawline. “I’ll deal with the repercussions and I will take them head on. Because you…you take my fucking breath away. In all the right ways. Even the first time I saw you…God, you are so fucking beautiful…”

“You and your ridiculous fucking dimples,” she huffed, lifting up to bring them together to eagerly kiss him with all the passion that had been building up between them. Cupping his face in her palms, she knew that every time he opened his mouth, she found herself falling harder and harder for this man. “It’s not fair the way you make me feel.”

“Nothing is ever fair,” Negan groaned when she nibbled at his bottom lip. Hooking his arm around her waist, he brought her up closer to him and softly bucked up against her. “But we have to make the most of things.”

“You’re very persuasive,” she moaned out, lifting her head to see that his hips were rubbing up against her again and again in slow, forward movements. The friction felt incredible having her heart skip a beat. Kisses were pressed down the side of her neck while Negan’s hands started to open her pants up. “It’s probably a bad thing that we can’t keep our hands off each other, Negan.”

“You say it’s a problem, I think it’s a good fucking thing,” Negan growled, tugging the material of her jeans further down her hips while she worked with his pants again to get them open. Hovering his lips over hers and balancing his weight on his hands, he smiled and shook his head. “It means we both like each other a lot. How can that be a problem?”

Scrambling to get his pants down his waist, she gasped when Negan adjusted her body easily on the bed crawling in over her. Her knees were locked with her pants still around them keeping her thighs close together when Negan led his hard cock toward her body. Tracing the tip through her folds had her crying out at the sensation.

“Please…” she begged hearing him snicker in response, his eyelashes fluttered with a wicked smirk tugging at his lips. Tapping the swollen head of his cock against her clitoris had her whimpering and he adjusted his body to move in over her. Right when Negan was about to go forward with what they both wanted, she heard the sound of a car outside. Shoving into Negan, she heard him grunt when he fell off her and onto the ground in a thud. Pulling her pants up, she couldn’t help but laugh that she had managed to knock Negan completely off the bed. Looking down over the side of the bed, she saw that Negan was pulling his pants up his body, his jaw flexing while he stared up at her. “I’m so fucking sorry.”

“You’re stronger than I thought,” Negan pouted lifting his hips up to pull his jeans back up over them. Adjusting, he attempted to press himself back into the tight confines of his jeans, but it was kind of hard with an erection. It hurt, but he knew that the sound of a car definitely meant everyone was home since they were in the middle of nowhere.

“Do you hate me now?” she wondered, her eyebrows bouncing up when Negan got to his knees. That question amused Negan, his snort loud enough for her to hear when he leaned forward. Brushing his lips over hers, Negan let the kiss linger. Every kiss from him took her breath away. A kiss from Negan was one of the most addictive things she had experienced. And that worried her.

“No, but this hurts,” Negan looked down with a huff, standing up from the floor and looking down at the bulge in his pants. Shifting, Negan wiggled his hips and pressed his hand in over his groin to adjust his body. Shaking his head, he knew that it wasn’t working and grumbled under his breath. “Fuck. I need to run and go put cold water or something on this before the kids run in here and make it weird.”

“The kids?” she heard the front door opening of the house. It didn’t give her much time to think before Negan was scrambling down the stairs in attempts to rush to the bathroom before anyone got up here. And it was a good thing he did that. There were footsteps heard almost immediately after she got up from the bed to start going back to putting the decorations on the tree that she had previously started doing for Negan.

“Dad! The food was absolute shit, but they had this pie that was really good, so I got Maggie to buy us a whole pie that…” Beau’s voice was heard as he moved up the steps to Negan’s room, his words coming to a halt when he reached the top of the stairs. “Holy shit.”

“Oh, hey,” Y/N gazed back over her shoulder at Beau who was holding onto a big white box. “Sorry about the food. I could have told you that the food was crap. It’s better in the small town that isn’t far away from here, but you’re right about the pies. They are pretty good.”

“Hey,” Beau didn’t know what to say, eyeing over Y/N while she was in his father’s room setting up some decorations. “Did you do all of this?”

“Uh, yeah,” she spoke up, throwing her hand up in the air to point to the decorations. This was awkward. Not because of Beau, but because her face was flushed over and her heart was hammering in her chest. Thankfully things didn’t get further with Negan because then this would have been really uncomfortable. “I wanted to help your father feel more at home with things.”

“My mom used to do things like this,” Beau informed Y/N finally getting up into the attic with her grasping tightly to the box that he had in his hands. There seemed to be a sense of awe in his eyes while he looked everything over. “Every room in our house was decorated like this. This is really cool. It’s been a while since I’ve seen something like it.”

“It sounds like your mom was a really cool person,” Y/N noted to Negan’s son, her heart racing knowing that she was just in a rather promiscuous position with Beau’s father not much earlier. And now that she was alone with Beau when Negan was downstairs doing God knows what in the bathroom, it made things complicated, but she was doing her best to act normal. “I’m glad that something like this could bring memories of her back for you.”

“Everything reminds me of her it seems. Especially around Christmas,” Beau shrugged his shoulders and moved over to set the pie box down on the table. Moving beside Y/N he looked down at the box of decorations and pointed to them. “You need help?”

“I’d love help,” she responded with a nod of her head, gazing over Negan’s son who seemed excited to be able to do something like this. “Did you and your mom used to do things like this?”

“All the time. She went crazy with decorations, but we loved it. It made everything more magical,” Beau answered her with a bright, vibrant smile that almost matched what she knew was Negan’s. “It’s why I feel bad for Erin. She was really young when my mom passed away, so I don’t know if she will remember the fun that we had. My mom loved Halloween too, so things lingered a little longer than they probably should have, but when it was time for Christmas decorations, there wasn’t a room in the apartment that wasn’t lit up.”

“I understand your mom doing that. I do the same thing, it just makes me feel more at home. Christmas doesn’t really feel like Christmas if your house isn’t covered in copious amounts of decorations,” Y/N muttered hearing Beau snicker and nod his head. “Do you want to decorate the room that you are staying in?”

“Is there stuff to do that?” Beau wondered, his eyes seemingly excited at the idea. “I mean, we would have to do it with Erin’s room too. If you have enough for just one, we can do it for her. She’s younger and it’s more important for her to be able to have something like this.”

“I think we can manage to pull enough together for both of you,” she smirked hearing how eager Negan’s son was to make sure that his younger sister had a good experience. “Are you more of a reindeer guy or a snowman guy? I think we have a lot of decorations with those two things. We can give each room a theme.”

“Probably reindeers,” Beau replied and she gave him a firm nod. Looking around the room, Beau let out a huff and realized that he completely forgot that his father wasn’t even in the room. “Where is my dad?”

“He had to run to the restroom,” Y/N answered, her throat tensing up knowing that Negan was going to be having some issues for a while. Accepting the answer, Beau went back to decorating the tree and she sighed. “You look so much like your dad.”

“Is that a good or bad thing?” Beau’s nose wrinkled and it made her smile. “You might hate my dad, so that’s why I’m asking.”

“It’s a good thing,” she half laughed with a shake of her head. “I don’t dislike your father. At all.”

“Also a good thing,” Beau noted, digging through the box of decorations to see what they had in them. “I look like my dad, Erin looks like my mom. Weird how that works.”

“I’ve never seen your mom,” Y/N realized that Negan had spoken about Lucille, but like he had mentioned last night, she had never made it around to the other side of his desk to actually see the photos that were in Negan’s office.

“I can fix that,” Beau motioned her to wait pulling out his cell phone from his pocket. Holding it up, Beau flashed on the screen to show her the image that was his background photo. It was a family photo that was likely taken in the fall with a younger Beau, Erin with Negan and Lucille.”

“She was beautiful,” Y/N complimented Beau’s mother leaning into get a better look at her. That wasn’t a lie. Lucille was beautiful and you could tell that everyone in the photo was close. It was a sweet moment and their family looked happy back then. Hell, even Negan looked happier back then. “You have some of her features too.”

“Thank you,” Beau sighed pushing his phone back into his pocket. “Is Annette your mother too?”

“She’s my stepmom,” Y/N answered with a nod of her head. “But she’s the only woman that has been in my life, so she is kind of my mother.”

“What happened to your mom?” Beau inquired and the sound of steps were heard. Looking back over her shoulder, Y/N saw that Negan was making his way back up with the two of them.

“She died after giving birth to me,” Y/N informed Beau hearing the loud exhale that fell from Beau’s throat. “I never really knew her. And I don’t really know what she looked like because my father doesn’t have any pictures around. He’s never really been big about showing things to me.”

“I’m sorry,” Beau stood still for a minute, unsure of what to do before stepping forward to give Y/N an unexpected hug. Standing there she lifted her head to look to Negan making sure it was okay. With a nod, Negan stayed back watching her lower her arms to wrap them around Beau to return the gesture. “Your mom is a big part of growing up. I’m sorry you weren’t able to experience that.”

“It’s not your fault,” she stammered, her head lowering with surprise at how sweet Negan’s son was being. Hearing his words drew her eyes to burn and she felt them damp. God, it had been so long since she had even thought about her mother. “I guess I learned to stop thinking about her because of my dad.”

“Your dad should have never done that,” Beau lifted his head, stepping back and away from Y/N. “He should have kept the memory of her alive in your heart. You’re part of her and you always will be. Maybe we can find a photo around here somewhere?”

“Beau?” Negan spoke up and it made Beau look over his shoulder at his father as Negan finally made it up to the top step. Unsure of how Y/N would react to what Beau was saying, Negan was trying to change the subject so she didn’t get hurt from his son’s innocent curiosity. “How’s it going kiddo?”

“I was just helping Y/N finish decorating this tree,” Beau pointed toward the tree and Negan pushed his hands into his pockets. “She said that she would help me decorate my room downstairs and also Erin’s. It will be like when we had Christmas with mom. With all of our rooms decorated.”

“That’s really nice of her,” Negan noted, his eyes connecting with Y/N’s when Beau went back to finishing putting up what he had for the tree. “Where is your little sister?”

“She is downstairs with Maggie and Glenn. I think Maggie wanted to show something to Glenn and she wanted to see too,” Beau waved his hand about in the air after he finished. Going over to the box that he brought for his dad, he handed Negan over the box and smiled. “They have your dinner and Y/N’s dinner downstairs, but I actually got this pie because I really liked it. It was the only thing that was actually good. You both can have some if you want. You should probably eat your dinner before it gets crazy cold.”

“Good idea kiddo,” Negan placed his hand in over the small of Beau’s back to help lead him toward the stairs. After Y/N put a star on top of the tree, she gave a final once over before nodding her head. “Let’s go eat.”

“Sure thing,” she went to follow Beau down the stairs, but Negan stopped her. Leaning in, Negan pressed a drawn out kiss over her cheek, his fingers brushing over her jawline after he pulled back. “What was that for?”

“For being good to my kid,” Negan whispered, his eyebrows bouncing up and his fingers hooking with hers to lead her down the stairs with him. At the bottom of the stairs, Beau was waiting for them and his hazel eyes fell upon the two of them holding hands. Gradually Negan’s fingers slipped from Y/N’s and Beau tipped his head to the side. “Lead the way young man.”

When they made their way downstairs, Glenn and Maggie were standing by the fireplace while Maggie held Erin in her arms. They were enthusiastically talking about something, but Beau was tugging them both toward the kitchen. Stumbling in attempts to catch up with his son, Negan felt Beau urging him down at the kitchen table and he chuckled. Beau did the same with Y/N before bringing them two takeout containers.

“Here is your food,” Beau looked over his shoulder around the kitchen. “Hey Y/N? Do you know where the plates are so I can get all of us a slice of pie?”

“Just let me do that for you kiddo,” she suggested getting up from the table urging Beau to sit at the other side of his father. Negan flipped open his takeout container to see that there were chicken tenders and fries inside.

“Trust me, this looked like it was the best,” Beau tapped the top of the table making Negan smirk when he stole a fry and plopped it into his mouth. Smirking, Beau stared out at Y/N as she moved around the kitchen to her father’s home trying to relearn everything. Sliding in closer to Negan, Beau spoke up in a whisper doing his best to hide his words from Y/N. “She reminds me of mom.”

“Hmm?” Negan looked back over his shoulder to see the way that Y/N was standing at the middle of the kitchen trying to plan out her next move. “Y/N?”

“I mean she probably doesn’t, but when I saw her decorating upstairs it reminded me of mom,” Beau explained, remaining quiet while Y/N moved around the kitchen to grab everything she needed for them to have pie. Y/N set two regular sized plates out for her and Negan for their dinners. Setting out three smaller plates for the pie, she cut a slice for each of them before holding her finger out. “What are you doing?”

“We’re going to need a piece for your sister,” Y/N responded and Beau immediately nudged Negan with his shoulder causing Negan to snicker.

“What?” Negan took another fry and chewed on it slowly when Beau looked excited about something. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” Beau rolled his eyes and happily accepted the two plates that Y/N handed him of the pie. After she had everything on the table, Y/N pulled open her box to see that they had gotten her a sandwich of some kind. Negan eyed it over and she held out her box for him to see.

“You want to share?” she offered to him seeing Negan eyeball her food and his. Grabbing half of her sandwich, Negan grabbed half of his chicken tenders and gave them to her for them to share. Holding her finger up she motioned him to wait while she went to go grab ketchup for the fries. An inevitable smile tugged at Negan’s lips while he watched her, but Negan straightened his posture when he noticed that Beau was watching him while he was eating his pie that Y/N had given him. Sharing the small plate of ketchup that Y/N had brought for them, Negan cleared his throat and knew that his son was catching onto things and that wasn’t good.

“You two share meals a lot at work?” Beau interrogated them, poking at his plate with his fork watching both Negan and Y/N go for the sandwich first to eat. Negan looked to Y/N who swallowed down hard and shrugged her shoulders. “I didn’t realize the two of you were so close.”

“Your dad and I just work on a lot of projects together,” Y/N answered back knowing that really didn’t answer Beau’s question. “We’re used to being around one another.”

“Mhmm…” Beau hummed when he took another big bite of the pie that Y/N had brought for him. Beau finished off his pie while Negan and Y/N ate their meals that they were sharing together. Once they made it to their pie, they heard the sound of movement in the kitchen.

“Daddy!” Erin’s voice called out and Negan slid his chair back, his arms holding out for Erin to jump into his arms. Giving his daughter a big hug, Negan nuzzled his nose in against the side of her neck which had her giggling. “I missed you!”

“I missed you too baby girl,” Negan peppered her cheek with kisses before she wiggled out of his arms once Beau motioned her to come take a seat next to him so she could have the pie that Y/N had gotten for her. “Did you two have a good time with Maggie’s family?”

“It was kind of strange,” Beau was honest, his expressive eyebrows bouncing up. “We only knew Maggie there so it was weird being with a group of strangers. Glenn is really nice. And he knows a lot about video games. Him and Maggie seemed to get along well.”

“Oh?” Y/N’s eyebrow arched in curiosity watching Beau help Erin cut up her pie for her to eat.

“Hey, you two are down here,” Maggie’s voice interrupted that thought drawing their attention to the entrance of the kitchen. “I was about to come up and get you Negan.”

“Little man came and grabbed me,” Negan informed Maggie with a mouthful of the last bite of the pie that they had brought home. “You doing good?”

“Yeah. Glenn and I were just talking about that snow globe that I got when I was younger for Christmas,” Maggie turned her attention to Y/N who in return seemed surprised that Maggie was talking to her about something. “I guess Glenn’s family got him the same snow globe. You remember how much I loved that thing?”

“That’s cool,” Y/N offered up a tiny smile, nodding her head. Glenn made his way around the table, his hands squeezing softly over her shoulders. Tipping her head back, Glenn lowered down to press a faint kiss over her lips and it made Negan look down toward his plate with a discomfort flooding his body. “You having a good night honey?”

“Yeah, everyone is really friendly. They are going to watch some movies tonight. Apparently, Hershel takes a projector that he has and uses the whole wall as a screen,” Glenn described what he had learned to Y/N who smirked considering it was her own father that Glenn was talking about. “That should be cool.”

“Yeah, if you want to do that, I think that’s cool,” Y/N lifted her hand to place it in over Glenn’s to give it a supportive squeeze. “I promised Beau that I would help him decorate both his and Erin’s room for Christmas to help them feel at home here. While I do that, you can watch the movies with them if you feel comfortable.”

“Say what?” Erin looked between Beau and Y/N, a crooked smile tugging at her young features. “That sounds fun!”

“That’s very nice of you,” Maggie complimented Y/N on what she had just told them. “Do you need some help?”

“That’s up to you. I know you like movie nights,” Y/N pushed away from the table to look up at her older sister. A long exhale fell from her throat when Maggie reached her hand out and Y/N accepted it, giving it a small squeeze. “I think I can handle these kids. Dad has a lot of the lights still upstairs in the attic. I just ask you to take care of Glenn. Don’t let dad scare him too much.”

“He’s actually been really nice to me,” Glenn claimed with a tiny smile finding relief in knowing that Hershel was treating him good compared to what he had seen with Negan earlier. “I was worried after what he did with Negan, I would be next in the lineup.”

Negan grumbling under his breath had Maggie laughing and she moved around the table to step in behind him. Caressing her hands in over Negan’s shoulders, she slid them down over the center of his chest and leaned down to press a kiss against Negan’s cheek, “It’s okay baby.”

“I don’t know why that man hates me,” Negan frowned knowing that Maggie was Hershel’s favorite, but Hershel never really even knew Negan. So it didn’t make sense for Hershel to hate him so much. “By the end of this trip I’m sure that he will open up to you.”

“Good luck with that,” Beau snickered from where he was sitting and it made Maggie laugh before looking to Beau to hush him. “I’m just saying Maggie. That was intense what happened earlier. Your dad hates my dad and I don’t think that’s changing.”

“You feeling okay after everything?” Maggie questioned, her fingers stroking at the revealed skin over Negan’s chest. “You didn’t get hurt, did you?”

“Thankfully I’m quick on my feet,” Negan responded knowing that while he was a little sore, he didn’t actually get physically hurt. “I think my pride is just down because of the fact I ended up face first in a pile of mud.”

“We all fall sometimes daddy. That’s okay,” Erin suggested and they all knew that Erin was too young to understand that Hershel was purposely trying to hurt Negan earlier. “I’ve done it before too. Sometimes those kind of things just happen,” Negan brought Erin’s hand up to place a delicate kiss over it. “Are we going to watch the movies tonight?”

“I think we need to help Beau and Y/N with the decorations honey,” Negan explained and Y/N shook her head, finishing off the pie that she had. “Are you sure?”

“I can handle it all on my own if all of you want to watch the movie. I don’t mind. I like that stuff,” Y/N offered to decorate the children’s rooms if they wanted to take in the movies that her father would play for Christmas.

“I’d like to help you,” Beau interjected letting them know how he felt about things. “I like doing that kind of stuff. I don’t mind if dad and Erin watch movies with everyone else. I think it would be cool.”

“I’m okay with that,” Y/N looked to Negan for permission who gave her a single nod. “And if you guys get sick of watching the movies, you can always come to help us. What do you think?”

“I think that sounds like a deal,” Negan leaned back toward where Maggie was holding onto him, but he outstretched his hand to place it over Y/N’s hand. Giving Y/N a wink, Negan sighed and pulled his hand back. “Thank you. That’s very nice.”

After they finished with dinner, Y/N made sure that everyone was comfortable before heading back up toward the attic to gather things. Beau followed along with her and he was rather quiet compared to earlier so she hoped he wasn’t getting nervous being around her alone. Beau suggested they do Erin’s room first, so that’s what they did. They put things up quickly before getting to Beau’s room where they seemed to linger a bit.

“What’s your favorite thing about Christmas?” Y/N spoke up and Beau looked over at her surprised that she was trying to make small talk with him. “You have to have a favorite thing, right?”

“I think my favorite things are more so the memories that I have,” Beau answered with a frown while he worked to help put the lights up around the room. “Baking cookies with my parents. Bringing out all of the boxes with my mom to go through things. Just sitting by the fire with my mom and having hot chocolate. Dad coming to get me and Erin when the Christmas presents were under the tree so we could be excited. He always made a big deal about it. They were so much fun.”

“That sounds really nice,” she commented on Beau’s memories seeing the way he took a minute to think about things, his dimples sinking in before smiling. “When I was younger, I was kind of the black sheep of my family. I always dreamt of those Hallmark movie families. You know?”

“I think that was my mom’s goal in life. For us to be like one of those sickeningly loving families,” Beau snickered, turning to face Y/N while she held onto the lights that were in her hands. “All of that sounds cool to me. You know? The small town, going to the events…it was fun. But of course, we lived in New York so we still got to do really cool stuff. All the time. It’s probably cooler than those small-town movies.”

“What do you want to do before Christmas? What would be your ideal list of things to do?” Y/N pushed for an answer seeing the way that Beau tipped his head to the side. Holding her finger up, she set things down on the bed and then moved for the desk to sit down. “Can I use this paper here?”

“Sure?” Beau moved over to the bed to take a seat on the edge of it, his fingers curling around it in curiosity. Y/N seemed to be writing something down and he cleared his throat uneasily. “What are you doing?”

“Give me a list of things you want to do before Christmas and we will try to get them done,” she suggested and it made Beau laugh. “What?”

“You don’t even know me,” Beau reminded her and she shrugged her shoulders. “Why would you do that for me?”

“Why not? I always wanted to have that tight-knit family like those in the movies and you miss doing things with your mom. Let’s make both things happen for us so Christmas can be special for both of us. Obviously, I’m not your mom, but I would like you to have that kind of magic back into your life for the holiday,” she offered and it made Beau’s hazel eyes get big with awe for what she said. “So have at it. Tell me what you want to do.”

“I want to make sugar cookies with Erin. The way that mom used to. Where it was messy and just fun,” Beau listed off the first thing he could think of, his head lowering when he gathered his thoughts and Y/N wrote it down. “I want to go ice skating at night under the stars. I want to go sledding and build a snowman as a family. Do they do events in the nearest small town?”

“They do,” she informed him with a small nod of her head. “They have a big Christmas tree where people get together and sing carols. They have Santa in town with some reindeer that they let the kids see. There is a family that has a farm out here with a lot of woods. They have a mile long walk where the woods is just filled with loads of lights and interactive things to do.”

“Can we do all that?” Beau whispered, his tone unsure and it made her smile faintly before nodding. “Are you sure? It’s not that many days until it’s Christmas.”

“We’ll make it happen,” she assured Beau with a shrug of her shoulders. “They have these really cool shops down at the center of the town where they have a lot of exciting things going on too. It’s not like the shops at Bryant park, but there are some cool interactive activities that you can do along with Erin.”

“That sounds fun,” Beau nodded his head about, rubbing his hands together. “I know it sounds stupid, but I just would do anything to get that kind of happiness that I did when I was with my mom. When it was all of us.”

“I don’t think I’ll ever be able to bring back that joy that you had with your mother here, but if I can do things to make you and your sister happy…to give you some ounce of joy, then it’s worth it to me,” she whispered, lowering down the list that she had written for them. Looking down at the papers, she bit down on her bottom lip and sighed. “You like to paint, right?”

“I do,” Beau responded seeing her writing something else down on the paper that she had for him. “Why?”

“I was just thinking about something that I used to do as a kid. It’s not really a Christmas thing, but it really helped me in my time of sadness while I was stuck here,” she informed Beau, folding the paper up and sliding it into her pocket. “We’re gonna make all of this happen kiddo.”

“Thank you,” Beau gave her a weak smile before they went back to working on the decorations in his room. After a while, Beau stood beside Y/N at the center of his room once they were finished to get a look at everything. “So…you and my dad?”

“What about us?” she muttered, her eyes gazing upon the work that they did together.

“I never realized the two of you were so close,” Beau pointed out, rocking back and forth on his feet when he thought back to seeing the two of them holding hands earlier. Something seemed to change in Y/N’s eyes when Beau mentioned the two of them being close and it intrigued him. “I mean my dad always talked really well about you. Complimented you and your work ethic all the time.”

“I thought your dad hated me for a while,” she stated with a frown knowing that she was ignorant to the way things really were with Negan at first. “I don’t know if he told you, but our boss gave me the job that your dad wanted. A lot. So I thought he might hate me for that.”

“No, I don’t think he hates you,” Beau shook his head, his head tipping back and forth. “Yes, he was really upset when he didn’t get that job, but my dad got over it. I think he knows that he has a good job. That he gets paid well. After my mom, I just don’t think he takes things that deep. There is so much in the world to be upset about. That was not something that was worth ruining his life for.”

“Yeah,” she didn’t know how to respond to Beau so she just nodded her head about. “How do you feel about Maggie?”

“Should I be honest with you?” Beau didn’t know whether to answer her question legitimately or to lie. Hearing her laugh, he shrugged his shoulders and turned toward her. “I think Maggie is nice. But I don’t feel a bond or a connection to her. She’s hard to really click with. I think she gets an idea in her head and she can’t really get it out. Again, she’s really nice and she does good things, but…I don’t know.”

Beau seemed shy when it came to talking about Maggie. Maybe he was afraid of offending Y/N, but he wasn’t upsetting her at all. She just wanted to get a feel for how things were with Maggie and Negan’s son. If Beau loved Maggie, it would have only made her feel worse about what was going on with her and Negan.

“Do you want to go watch movies with your dad and your sister?” Y/N inquired, pointing toward the door that was open, but it was followed up with a sigh. “That’s a no?”

“Can we take another minute to just talk about things?” Beau proposed surprising her that he would want to talk to her. Thinking things over, she grabbed a pencil and one of his drawing pads. When she handed it to him, Beau tipped his head to the side. “What is this?”

“I will sit and talk with you if you draw for me. We’ll do a game. I’ll draw you, you draw me. We’ll pick two Christmas type items to add to the photo. What do you say?” she offered up a sense of something fun to keep Beau interested. It made him laugh, but he pulled his feet up onto the bed and rest back against the headboard. “I’ll give you, reindeers and penguins.”

“Okay. I’ll give you Christmas lights and a Santa hat,” Beau gave her the two items that he thought of first. Starting to sketch something, Beau’s face twisted when he kept looking up at her. “It’s probably not fair that I’m just a beginner and you are the second in charge at your company.”

“That means nothing. Some kids are more talented than I am,” she claimed while she got comfortable in the chair sketching the shape of Beau’s face out. “When did you pick up drawing?”

“I saw my dad doing it all the time and I think I wanted to be like him,” Beau declared thinking about his past of when he started to draw. “Dad would just draw stupid, silly things all the time. Both him and my mom would always put notes in my lunch for school. Other kids would tease me, but it never bothered me. I had parents that loved me and wanted me to know it. I thought that was cool.”

“That’s really sweet,” she found it charming hearing that about both Negan and his late wife. The way that Beau talked about his parents, she could tell that they were both incredibly loving with their children.

“I carry two notes on me. I have one from my dad when I did my first big play where I was the leading role and I have the last letter that my mom ever wrote me,” Beau exhaled loudly making Y/N lift her eyes to stare out at Beau who seemed conflicted with his emotions. “I don’t ever leave home without them.”

“I’m sorry Beau,” she spoke softly and it drew his eyes up from what he was drawing. “I can tell you were really close to your mom. I don’t understand things about this world. You losing your mom…it’s not fair.”

“Just like it’s not fair that your mother was taken away from you,” Beau speculated and it made her stop. It wasn’t often that she got to think about her mother, but on occasions when she did, she did often feel cheated with life. “It’s not your fault Y/N. You’re like me. We’re both broken, but we’re doing our best to make others happy.”

“You sound so much like your father,” she felt like she had been kicked in the gut when those words left Beau’s lips. It made her lower her drawing down and she shook her head. “You’re like a mini version of him.”

Hearing that made Beau lower his drawing pad and he cleared his throat uneasily, “You and dad are closer than people think, aren’t you?”

“I don’t know,” she felt embarrassed that she just blurt that out to Negan’s son damning herself for saying that. “We work together a lot. So I guess we could be viewed as pretty close sometimes.”

“Close enough for my dad to tell you that he was broken? And that you were broken too?” Beau muttered, shifting forward on the bed to stare out at her. There was a silence that surrounded them and Beau sighed. “Maggie doesn’t understand that. You know that?”

“Doesn’t understand what?” she tried to focus on something other than her relationship with Negan when she went back to sketching her drawing of Beau.

“That he’s still broken. My dad needs to be with someone that makes him happy. And it’s not Maggie. I just think he feels like he owes her something. That’s why we are here. He’s afraid that if he turns Maggie away, he’s going to be alone again,” Beau informed Y/N, his throat tensing up and he shook his head. Going back to his drawing, Beau knew it was a lot to put on a stranger but he didn’t often get to talk to someone who knew Maggie as well. “I don’t like Maggie for my dad. They make good friends, but she doesn’t make him happy like my mother did. He hides behind a fake smile. It’s not real. That’s why I don’t get why we’re here with Maggie’s family. It’s not true love like it was with my mom. There is something missing behind his eyes when he’s around her.”

“Have you talked to him about it?” she spoke quietly knowing that they had the door open and she didn’t know if people would be near to hear them.

“I have,” Beau responded with a frown, getting comfortable again. “I know he agrees with me. I just think he’s scared.”

“I understand that,” Y/N thought back on her own engagement. The only reason that she was engaged to Glenn was because she didn’t want to hurt him. Never did she think she would be engaged to Glenn. Like Negan, she just liked having the company. She wasn’t used to nice people and Glenn was very nice. At this point, she knew that she was Glenn’s first big relationship. “Sometimes adults do things because they feel like they must. I think that’s kind of where your dad is.”

“So you agree that him and Maggie shouldn’t be together?” Beau confirmed with her, but that question caught up with her and she didn’t know how to respond. “You don’t have to lie to me Y/N. Your secrets are safe with me.”

“No. I don’t think him and Maggie should be together,” she whispered lowering down the sketch again, her eyes narrowing while she stared out at Beau. “Not with the things that your father has said to me. I agree with you. I don’t think they fit well together.”

“I’m glad I’m not alone,” Beau bobbed his head about before going back to working on the project she gave him. “You’ve already bonded with me more than Maggie has. And I’ve known you for a day.”

“Like you said kid, people like you and me…we just click,” she gave Beau a wink which made him smirk. It took a while before she was done with her drawing and Beau finished not long after. “I’ll show you mine first and then you show me yours?”

Beau gave her a nod, holding his drawing pad close to his chest when she turned her drawing around to show Beau. It looked exactly like Beau, except she drew him with a Santa hat on his head and a necklace that had large bulbs to represent his request of Christmas lights. Sliding closer to the bottom of the bed, Beau couldn’t help but smile.

“Now I feel silly,” Beau turned his drawing around to show that he had drawn her more in a cartoon form wearing reindeer antlers. It was cute, but the first thing that really caught her attention was the penguin character that he had sitting on her shoulder in his drawing. “I could have done realism, but I went with what I was feeling right now. Which I guess was more cartoon like or comic?”

“Beau, it’s me,” she felt happiness sharing this moment with Negan’s son when she reached out for the drawing. Gazing it over, she was in awe of what he had actually done and she shook her head. “I love this. I can keep this?”

“You want it?” Beau was shocked that she wanted the drawing that he had done. “Really?”

“I do,” she watched Beau reach for the drawing pad to carefully pull the sheet of paper out. Going to hand it to her, she shook her head and nodded to it. “Please sign it for me. I want to keep this forever so when you are a big artist, I can say I have one of your originals.”

“Stop,” Beau snickered, his dimples becoming more prominent when he signed his name on the bottom right corner of the drawing. “It’s a silly drawing.”

“That I’m going to cherish,” she clung to the art and saw him nodding toward her paper.

“Can I keep yours?” Beau inquired, his eyebrows bouncing up and she nodded writing something on the drawing before handing it over to him. Reading what she wrote had his features turning very serious before a small smile tugged at his lips. “To Beau, your heart shines brighter than the sun. Never stop being you because you’re one in a million. You’re a shining star in the night sky.”

“I’m lame,” she informed him standing up from the chair that she was seated in, throwing her hands up in the air. “I’m going to go put this in my room so I don’t lose it. And then we should probably go make sure everyone is okay.”

“Yeah,” Beau agreed with her, sitting at the center of his bed when she left his room. Clearing his throat, he folded the drawing up and reached for the wallet that he carried. Putting it in his wallet, he stood up from the bed in time to meet Y/N at the door.

Once they made it downstairs together, they saw that Negan had fallen asleep at his corner of the couch with Erin cuddled into his chest watching the movie that was on the wall with big eyes. Maggie was in the middle talking to Glenn who was sitting at the other end.

“How is it going?” Y/N sat on the arm of the couch, reaching out to caress over Glenn’s shoulders. Her touch made him smile, his head tipping back so he could stare up at her. “Is Maggie treating you good?”

“Yeah, it’s been nice,” Glenn explained, his fingers reaching up to hook with hers. Moving around the couch, Beau knelt down and took a seat in front of the couch resting his head against Negan’s knee. The touch made Negan’s eyes flutter to an open. Lifting his head, Negan saw that it was Beau resting against his knee and he smiled. Brushing his fingers through his son’s hair, Negan got more comfortable cuddling Erin in closer to him. “It’s been a very relaxing day.”

“I’m glad it’s been relaxing for you,” Negan snorted in a whisper from where he was and it made Maggie chuckle. Maggie reached out to brush her fingers through Negan’s somewhat messy hair and she frowned. “I’m exhausted.”

“Once the movie is over, we’ll get all of you to bed. Okay?” Maggie dragged her palm down over the side of Negan’s face. Right now Y/N was actually happy that both Beau and Erin were taking up the space with Negan so Maggie couldn’t cuddle with Negan. Whatever they were watching was near the end, but Negan could barely keep his eyes open. It was actually sweet seeing how tired Negan was for her. By the time the movie reached the end, Erin started poking at her father’s cheek getting his heavy eyelids to open in a sluggish motion. “Movie is over Negan.”

“I know that. I was awake the whole time,” Negan yawned, adjusting on the couch and standing up. Keeping his arm hooked around Erin, he pulled her up with him and then reached for Beau’s hand to help him up from the ground. “Let’s get you guys to bed.”

“We’ll be right up,” Maggie tipped up on her toes to give Negan a quick kiss. When she did it, Negan’s eyes were hooked with Y/N’s showing that he didn’t want to be kissing Maggie. Watching them head up the stairs, Y/N sighed and Maggie nudged her sister. “Did it go well?”

“It did. Which hey, I wanted to talk to you about a few things,” Y/N pulled out the list that she had written down earlier with Beau. Handing over the list to Maggie, she saw that Maggie was reading it over unsure of what it was. “I talked to Beau about the things that he wanted to do before Christmas. You think we can make these things happen?”

“I can’t see why not,” Maggie felt Glenn stepping in beside her to look over the list with Maggie. “Beau told you all of this?”

“He did. I think it’s the best way we can attempt to give him a good Christmas,” Y/N informed her sister, reaching for the list again to put it back into her pocket. “Plus, it gives us something to do. You know? That way we don’t just sit around waiting for dad to come up with something.”

“I agree with you,” Maggie waved her hand about looking in the distance seeing that Hershel was talking with Beth and Annette. “I think it’s a good idea. Just let me say goodnight to dad and then we can all go to bed. I’m tired too.”

“You ready?” Y/N reached for Glenn’s hand. Glenn nodded with a smile, accepting her hand in his when they moved for the stairs. Once they got up them, Y/N stopped when she saw that the door to Erin’s room was open. Inside Negan and Erin were in the bed. Erin was fast asleep laying on Negan’s chest and Negan was already asleep too. There was a book in his hand that he was likely reading before falling asleep and she couldn’t help but laugh. “What did you do to the poor guy?”

“I’d be worn out too if your dad did to me what he did to Negan,” Glenn released an amused sound admitting that he was happy that he wasn’t the target of her father’s anger. Hearing footsteps, Y/N looked back over her shoulder to see that both Maggie and Hershel were headed upstairs together talking. Glenn pointed toward the open-door causing Maggie to stop, letting out an amused exhale when she saw that Negan was crashed with Erin in his arms. “Your boyfriend is out cold.”

“He never sleeps that well,” Maggie noted, resting her shoulder against the doorframe and Hershel stopped to get a look at what everyone was staring at. The way Negan was laying didn’t look all that comfortable, but it was cute. Heavy breaths were falling from his slightly parted lips and it did feel a bit strange that Y/N, Maggie, Glenn and Hershel were all watching him.

“I told you he was fine,” Hershel interrupted the two women who were watching Negan sleeping cuddled up to his daughter. “He should have made it up to his room, but I’m not about to wake him up.”

“He’s probably crashed because of you,” Y/N reminded her father, shooting him a quick glare noticing how close Hershel actually was to her. “Probably had an adrenaline rush when you tried to kill him today.”

“Oh boy, we’re never getting over this one. Are we?” Hershel stepped back, pushing his hands into his pockets and giving a sheepish shrug. “It was just a little joke. That was all.”

“It wouldn’t have been funny if Apollo would have killed him and then you had to explain to his kids how you just killed their father,” Y/N pushed further feeling Maggie placing her hand in over her shoulder to hint that maybe it was time to stop talking. Considering Negan was Maggie’s boyfriend, she should have been just as angry. “You know what? I think I’m going to head to bed. I need some sleep.”

“Good idea,” Hershel piped in and it drew a chill through her spine. Man, her father was capable of bringing out the anger in her. That was for sure. Glenn said his goodbyes to Maggie and Hershel before following her toward her bedroom.

“Hey, are you okay?” Glenn reached for Y/N, his fingers loosely wrapping around her arm to get her to look at him when they stepped before her bedroom. Glenn’s dark eyes seemed worried, his jaw flexing in a nervous fashion. “You’re not mad at me, are you?”

“Why would I be mad at you?” she immediately denied that idea, stepping forward to brush her fingers through Glenn’s dark hair. Hushing him, she feigned a smile and let out a long exhale. Whispering, she stepped in closer to him since Maggie and Hershel were still not far away in the hallway. “You have to understand, there is a lot of things I didn’t tell you about my family. They just make me very uptight and upset.”

“I can see that you had some history with them, but I like them,” Glenn informed her speaking quiet enough for it only to be the two of them that could hear. Hearing that made a lump form in Y/N’s throat and she nodded her head. “I think it’s good for you to be here. I don’t really know what happened between all of you, but I think your family is nice. I like them. Maggie has been really friendly and Hershel just seems rough around the edges.”

“Right,” Y/N swallowed down feeling immediately shut down even though she knew Glenn was just trying to be sweet about things. Glenn always saw the good in things. And this was probably partially Y/N’s fault for not opening up to him about her past with her family. “I guess I should have explained things to you a long time ago. It’s my fault that I didn’t.”

“Come here,” Glenn motioned her into her bedroom so that they could actually talk for a minute. It left her feeling uncomfortable when he pushed the door shut behind him. “I think you’re here for a reason. You want to fix things with your family. You want them to love you and want to be near them. You missed them. I think maybe now is a time to let go of some of the feelings that you have. Start over new. You came here because you wanted these people back in your life.”

“I almost think I came here because I wanted to prove that I could make it without them,” Y/N countered, heading over to her bed to sit down on the edge of it. Even with her response, she could see that it was one that Glenn didn’t approve of. “My father wrote me off completely Glenn. And look what I was able to accomplish.”

“I don’t know Y/N. Life has to be more than just…that,” Glenn sat down beside her on the bed, his hand reaching out to hook his fingers with hers. “I think it would be good for you to connect with your family. Once we get married, it’s going to have to be more than just the two of us, right? If we have a family, you’ll want to have family to be around them. Or else things are going to be really lonely. They already are kind of lonely. My family is so far away. I moved with you because I love you, but I do think family is important. No matter how messed up they are.”

“Right,” she thought about what Glenn was saying and she didn’t know what to say in return. “I love you Glenn, I do, but sometimes I think you only asked me to marry you because I was the first woman you were with.”

“Here we go,” Glenn let out a long breath, reaching up to pinch the bridge of his nose. “I should have never told you that when I was drunk. I can’t believe that I did.”

“It’s not bad that you told me I was the first woman that you were with,” she explained, her fingers hooking tighter around his. “I’m just saying I think sometimes you feel like you have to be a certain way with me because I’m the first big relationship that you had.”

“I wouldn’t have asked you to marry me if I didn’t want to marry you,” Glenn assured her leaning over to press a loving kiss over her cheek. Closing her eyes, she wished that she believed that, but she really didn’t. There was a knock on the door followed by the door opening and Y/N saw Maggie standing before them. “Hey Maggie.”

“Did dad send you?” Y/N almost teased knowing that her father wasn’t very big about having ‘boys’ in the room.

“No, dad went to bed,” Maggie alerted her, pointing back toward the hallway. It made Y/N’s eyebrows bounce up and she laughed. Of course her father didn’t have a problem with Glenn being in her room, but he despised Negan being near Maggie. “I was just wondering if the two of us could talk for a few minutes?”

“I guess that means it’s time for me to go to bed,” Glenn pat Y/N on the knee before standing up. Giving her a wink, he headed for the door and glanced between the two of them. “Good night you two.”

“Night,” Maggie winked closing the door behind him when he left. Standing at the door, there was some awkward tension between the two of them before Maggie headed over to take a seat on the edge of Y/N’s bed. “I guess now would be a good time for me to apologize. We should have been talking. You were living in the same city as me—hell, you were my boyfriend’s boss and I had no clue. I should have never stopped talking to you.”

“I guess that falls on both of us,” Y/N responded when she reached for her pillow to hold it close to her chest. Resting her back against the headboard, Y/N felt guilty knowing that this was Maggie’s attempt at getting them to bond again. “I should have tried keeping a relationship with you and Beth. I was just so upset with dad and I thought everyone took his side.”

“He really was…is hard one you,” Maggie admitted, her green eyes gazing over Y/N. “But look at you! You did what you said you would. You’re a big lady boss in the city. Racking in the money and you proved that your art could make you money. You proved dad wrong.”

“I guess so,” Y/N knew that’s what she wanted her family to see when she got here, but she could tell that her father still thought she was a joke. “Truth be told, I never thought you would leave here. I’m proud of you for moving to New York City. That’s not the Maggie I knew.”

“Well, I wanted to try something new,” Maggie confessed placing her hands back behind her and bracing her weight on her palms. “It was exciting. I met a lot of people. Did a lot of things that I never thought I would. Things I would never tell daddy,” Maggie snickered looking to Y/N with a tip of her head. “And then I met Negan.”

“Yeah? How did you meet him?” Y/N questioned knowing that Negan already told her but she wanted to hear it from Maggie’s perspective.

“It was at a street vendor. I was already having a bad day and he grabbed the drink I was going for when it was the last one. I ripped his head off for it. Horribly. And he laughed at me which infuriated me. I shoved him. Went to sit on the steps of a building near the street vendor like a child. Negan sat down next to me, handed me the drink and a hot dog. Told me I obviously needed the drink more than he did. I think he was on a lunch break. And he didn’t leave. He was sitting there eating his lunch and I chewed him out telling him I didn’t need his charity. He made some smart ass comment and it got under my skin, but I was hungry so I ate what he got me. Afterwards, he got up and said goodbye. I felt bad. Went after him to apologize. We agreed to get dinner at a bar near where we met and well…”

“Well?” Y/N’s eyebrow arched in curiosity and Maggie looked back toward the door.

“I don’t know what it was, but something about Negan intrigued me. We bickered. A lot. But I liked him. So I dragged him into the bathroom at this old bar where we had sex,” Maggie whispered trying to keep her voice down when she turned to face Y/N. “Whatever went wrong that day, it was easy to forget because Negan is…really good at sex. It’s almost infuriating how good he is at it. We were in a bathroom stall and at that point, it was one of the best sexual experiences of my life. I’d had a lot of experiences in the city, but Negan stood out the most. You see Negan…” Maggie stopped herself and her faced flushed over with color, “I shouldn’t tell you that, you work with Negan.”

“Go for it,” Y/N waved her hand up in the air knowing that she was feeling jealous hearing what Maggie was telling her.

“Negan has a really nice dick,” Maggie blurt it out, her eyes getting big when she nodded her head about. “It’s above average. And it’s thicker. I’ve been with guys who had a bigger dick that are very arrogant because of it. They think that just because they have a big dick they are God’s gift to women, when in reality they are just stabbing the hell out of you with that thing and you can’t wait for it to be over. It’s not like that with Negan. As infuriating and annoying as he can be, he knows what he’s doing with it.”

“I would have never guessed it was big,” Y/N lied hearing Maggie laugh in response. Right now Y/N was just doing her best to hide her jealousy. “With the ego on him…”

“I know, you almost think he’s making up for something, but he’s got a reason to have the ego. From his work to his body…he’s impressive,” Maggie explained with a loud sigh, shaking her head in response. “After that night I thought I just had the best one-night stand of my life. But then the two of us just kept running into each other. I don’t even think we agreed to officially date. We were just together all the time. I got a little weirded out when I found out he was a widower with children.”

“Why?” Y/N was curious knowing that Beau and Erin were two things that actually made her more attracted to Negan.

“Because I was having the time of my life. The last thing I wanted was to be tied down with a teenager and a six-year-old,” Maggie reasoned with her sister, curling her arms around her knees. “At that age, both Erin and Beau already had their mind set on how they felt about things. I always thought if I had a family, I would start my own. It took me realizing that life wasn’t slowing down for me to agree that I was okay with Negan’s children. They are good kids. They don’t terrorize me. And they are part of him. I’d be a fool to not want to be with Negan. He’s a pain in the ass, but he’s got a good heart. He’s loving. A good father. He has a good job. If we ever had children ourselves, I know he’d make a good dad. I’m ready to take that jump and get married to him, but I think he’s still stuck on his late wife that died. It makes things a little complicated.”

“I see,” Y/N lowered her eyes, squeezing the pillow in closer to her. Hearing Maggie suggest that she wanted to get married to Negan really upset Y/N. “It sounds like you picked up a real winner with Negan.”

“I guess it depends on who you ask,” Maggie slurred, her head shaking when she let out a nervous laugh. “Here I am talking all about myself. What about you and Glenn? How did you meet Glenn?”

“Uh, he was my pizza delivery guy,” Y/N was honest about her relationship with Glenn. Maggie’s nose wrinkled and amusement flooded her features. “With my job, it’s hard to really have dinner ready so I was ordering pizza, a lot. He was always really sweet and after the first time he delivered the pizza to me, he would keep bringing me little extras. I thought it was charming. And one night it was raining so hard. He was soaked. So I just offered to have him come in and have a piece with me so he could dry off.”

“Did you have sex with him that day?” Maggie pushed and Y/N shook her head. “Come on.”

“I’m sorry. We’re boring,” Y/N suggested with a shrug knowing that her story in comparison to her and Negan’s was really tame. “I asked him out and the first date he showed up with a bunch of roses. It was really sweet. And then I just liked having his company. He’s fun and he’s sweet. It was nice to have a friend around. And then I guess it just grew into more.”

“What about Glenn? How is sex with Glenn?” Maggie questioned and Y/N found herself less inclined to tell her sister about her sex life with Glenn. “Come on. I literally just told you Negan’s dick size.”

“No, you just said he had a big, thick dick,” Y/N countered with a shake of her head. Once she responded that, Maggie threw her hands up in the air to suggest a size before holding her hands up to give a thickness in comparison. It made Y/N shake her head and she lowered her head into her hand. “I have to stare at this man every day of my life Maggie.”

“You’re welcome, now give me the details,” Maggie poked at her sister and it made Y/N feel ridiculous. “What was sex with him like?”

“Honestly Maggie, I was his first,” Y/N explained which was followed by a small snicker from Maggie. “Don’t tell him I told you that. He was really embarrassed. You have to understand that Glenn is very shy. He had no game at all. And I think most women ignored him because of his job, but he was cute. And he was sweet.”

“So he got better with time then,” Maggie noted, pushing into Y/N’s shoulder. “Since when have you been prude about sex details?”

“My whole life? I’m not really comfortable talking to my family about my sex life,” that wasn’t a lie. It was always something that she was uneasy about. “Then again I guess I should have been more open about that whole thing.”

“Here we go,” Maggie frowned, tipping her head to the side. “Is this going to be about Shane?”

“I wasn’t going to go there,” Y/N scoffed shaking her head immediately. “I just meant that maybe the two of us would have been closer if I was more open with you.”

“Good because I don’t want to go back to that,” Maggie threw her hands up in the air, waving them about. “You now have Glenn and I have Negan…”

“Maggie, I thought you didn’t want to talk about it,” Y/N pointed out, lifting her right hand to point her finger at her sister. “Yet you’re going off about it.”

“How was I supposed to know that Shane was the guy that took your virginity Y/N? Like you said, you weren’t very open about things,” Maggie rambled on and it made Y/N roll her eyes before leaning back against the headboard to listen to her sister go off. “Yes, I’m aware that I slept with your boyfriend when we were younger, but you didn’t tell me it was your boyfriend and he really was too old for you at the time. If daddy would have known that Shane was having sex with you, Shane would have gotten in a lot of trouble and you didn’t want that. Not with Shane’s potential football career.”

“I don’t care about Shane,” Y/N contemplated her past knowing that the first man she hooked up with was never good for her in the first place. “Shane got what he wanted. He spent time with me to get close to you. It is what it is.”

“That’s not what you thought back then,” Maggie reminded her sister and Y/N let out a tense sound. “You were so angry with me for the whole Shane thing.”

“My boyfriend dumped me for you,” Y/N threw her hands up in the air and found herself frustrated with her sister. “I was a teen. So yeah, I was upset. Especially since I told you and you kept dating him. And then you only dated him for like two weeks and then you dumped him for that other guy. So Shane was always showing up begging me to talk to you. It was a little overwhelming. But I’m telling you, the last thing I care about right now is Shane. I looked the guy up and he’s a cop somewhere. And the last thing I would want to be with is a cop. Shane was not good for either one of us. I think it’s safe to say that both Negan and Glenn are better than Shane. So seriously…”

“Point taken,” Maggie went silent, her green eyes shifting showing that their discomfort was back between them. “Shane was one of those guys that didn’t know how to have sex anyways. It was fun making out with him, but sex…”

“Maggie, he was the first man I had sex with. I know what sex was like with Shane,” Y/N interrupted her sister not wanting to talk about her ex-lover any longer. “I swear. I’m not mad at you for Shane. Neither one of us lost out when it came to Shane.”

There was a silence that followed again and Y/N looked to the time, “Can we maybe talk about life tomorrow? We can have lunch together, plan our days out with what Beau requested of us and just talk about normal things. Life. Not sex? I just am really tired. I don’t get to sleep a lot.”

“Sure thing,” Maggie stood up from the bed, reaching out to squeeze over Y/N’s shoulder. “I’m glad to see you again sis.”

“Believe it or not Maggie, I’m happy to see you too,” she waved goodbye to her sister finding herself thankful when Maggie finally left. Turning off the lights, she crawled into the bed and wondered if she was doing the right or wrong thing here. Especially after that discussion.

Toward the middle of the night, the sound of her door opening was heard and it woke her from her sleep. Footsteps moved around her room, surprising her when the bed dipped and she let out a nervous sound when someone crawled into the bed beside her.

“Relax boss,” Negan’s deep voice rumbled from behind her, his arm hooking around her waist once he crawled into bed with her. Nuzzling his nose against the back of her neck drew her to let out a long exhale having the warmth of him cuddling her close. At this point she wondered if it was a dream that she was having. Right now, Negan was the only comfort she found in things, so the idea of having him crawl into bed with her to hold her? That sounded like a pretty good dream for her. “I just want to hold you for a while.”

Adjusting her positioning in the bed, she hooked her fingers with Negan’s and cuddled back into him. Knowing that Maggie was sleeping in her old bedroom not far down the hallway did enter her mind when Negan’s deep breathing followed not long after showing that he had fallen asleep. After everything that happened tonight, it just made everything else feel so much more complicated and she hated that.

----

Tags: @slutlanna976 @fuckthis-and-fuckthat @jennydehavilland @de-gabyconamor @ibelongtonegan @smallsadjellyfish @labyrinthofheartagrams @msjamesmarch @thebeautysurrounds @hotfornegan @redmercysugar @caprithebunny @tuttifuckinfruitty @emoryhemsworth @a-girl-interupted @akumune @stoneyggirl2 @xsarcasticwriterx @haleygreen23 @xhannahbananax03 @sanctuaryforthelost @burningredaffair @killaweiser @dead-of-niight @ayumi-wolf @hollyismentallyillhelp @promiscuousbarnes @tone-stark @lanadelnegan @flippittygibbitts @stickyhuesos

#Jeffrey Dean Morgan #Negan #Negan fanfiction #negan x reader #The Walking Dead #twd fanfiction #Negan x you #Negan Smith #Negan smut

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nnightskiess · 11 months

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the dance of death, part four

₊° - 𝐰𝐞𝐝𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐚𝐦𝐬 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘸𝘦𝘥𝘯𝘦𝘴𝘥𝘢𝘺'𝘴 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘶𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘴 𝘢 𝘤𝘦𝘳𝘵𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘩𝘪𝘨𝘩, 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘪𝘵 𝘣𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘥𝘰𝘸𝘯𝘧𝘢𝘭𝘭, 𝘰𝘳 𝘰𝘧 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦'𝘴 𝘥𝘦𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘦...

the dance of death, masterlist

☾ ⋆*·:⋆*·:⠀ *⋆.*:·ﾟ .: ⋆*·ﾟ: .⋆

𝗽𝗹𝗲𝗮𝘀𝗲 𝗱𝗼 𝗻𝗼𝘁 𝗰𝗼𝗽𝘆, 𝗿𝗲𝗽𝘂𝗯𝗹𝗶𝘀𝗵, 𝘁𝗿𝗮𝗻𝘀𝗹𝗮𝘁𝗲, 𝗿𝗲𝗽𝗿𝗼𝗱𝘂𝗰𝗲 𝗼𝗿 𝘂𝘀𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗶𝗺𝗮𝗴𝗶𝗻𝗲 𝗼𝗻 𝘄𝗮𝘁𝘁𝗽𝗮𝗱 𝗼𝗿 𝗼𝗻 𝗼𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿 𝗽𝗹𝗮𝘁𝗳𝗼𝗿𝗺𝘀. 𝗿𝗲𝘀𝗽𝗲𝗰𝘁 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗮𝘂𝘁𝗵𝗼𝗿’𝘀 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗸

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐮𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐟 𝐌𝐢𝐬𝐬 𝐓𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐥... had made Wednesday zone out the moment she had sat down in her seat, not only because she already held most information that was currently being taught, but also because a certain kind of mystery could not be erased from the forefront of her mind. She hadn't really known what to expect when first enrolling at Nevermore Academy, besides being surrounded by peers 'like her' and knowing she would want to stay in solitude nonetheless. But that the school held such a plethora of mysteries and had welcomed them all to her doorstep, had been a pleasant surprise. If only she hadn't tried her best to not let her parents enrol her at Nevermore, she could have had a headstart on solving all these riddles, murders and myths. But there was no time to solve anything now that she sat trapped in Nevermore's greenhouses, Miss Thornhills enthusiastic voice mixing with the students' quiet whispered chatter and the scribbling of Xavier's pencil.

She had stared intently at Thornhill's enormous venus fly trap plant that rested proudly on the teacher's desk, and had watched it slowly but surely close its leaves to devour the insect it had been given at the start of the class. The carnivorous plant was famous for trapping its prey and taking its sweet time to digest it, making whatever it had trapped squirm and crawl to save its life. It was awfully cathartic to Wednesday. Perhaps she was starting to become a little like this captivating plant; holding on tightly and not able to let anything go right until the end. Wednesday had now put her claws into the mystery of her violin player, and would definitely not let go until she held all the answers to her questions.

Though class seemed to go on and on, watching the plant had been an amusing way to pass the time. The insect's legs shook and trembled as it tried to climb out or squirm itself between the barely shut leaves, to no avail. It was definitely better than listening to Thornhill talk about things she had already read about during her early childhood years, or looking at what the boy beside her was scribbling in his notebook. She had sensed his desire to talk the minute she'd realised the only vacant seat was next to him, but had made him turn back to his drawing, defeated, with only one harsh look. Filling the time with whispered small talk would only be torture to her, and not the kind of torture she often found herself daydreaming about.

The corners of Wednesday's lips curled upwards in satisfaction as she watched the plant finally shut its leave completely. The squirming of the insect against the leaves faded away, but she found herself growing unsatisfied as a realisation hit her; although she might have set her mind on solving her newest mystery, she was not even close to finding answers. Nor did she know where to even start, and that bothered her.

Her mind wandered with each passing minute and she pursed her lips in concentrated thought, falling into the endless pit of everything that had happened after she'd arrived at Nevermore. From Roan to Jericho's murders and monster, to Weems acting strange, her father being involved in a murder and the discovery of the Nightshades, who had enticed her need for answers even further by their condemnation of her quest. Surely, that alone already proved that there was more to the supposed ghost story than met the eye, more than maybe even Weems was aware of. Unless Weems was in on it all, of course. Wednesday had yet to fully pierce through the puzzling exterior of Nevermore's principal.

Through her endless enthusiastic rambling, horrible taste in music and despicable choice for room decoration, Wednesday had actually grown to a level of civilization with Enid, something that had surprised even herself. Maybe it was just because the werewolf had been so kind as to share her findings on her violin mystery or shared her intrigue on it, or perhaps Wednesday just validated how the perky girl had made absolutely no problem of their third roommate, and had even bonded with Thing so swiftly as if it was the natural order of life to befriend a severed hand. To the Addams family, it was, but Wednesday knew how most people lacked the capacity to broaden their boundaries of acceptance and prejudice.

Still, it remained a fact that no one at Nevermore seemed to know of any violin player. Even principal Weems herself had unknowingly helped Wednesday's investigation further as she had confessed to the absence of string music for years until the night of Wednesday's serenade. No matter how pathetically silly the Nightshade Society might have seemed to Wednesday at first glance, there was no denying that they held power with their access to a myriad of books, all of which held knowledge of years of historic events, myths and unsolved mysteries of Nevermore and its surrounding area. It had been the Library that had aided Roan in his suspicions of the girl, which could have resulted in her death if she hadn't been saved by another monster, the Hyde. Perhaps if Wednesday's arrival at Nevermore Academy had already been foreseen by Roan's mother years ago, it could mean that the Nightshade library held more of these foreshadowing theories of demises and unearthings.

Snapping out of the whirlwind in her mind, Wednesday glanced at Xavier. The boy was frantically scribbling away in his sketchbook, concentration holding him in a focused trance. He firmly bit down on his bottom lip as he worked on his shading with a stick of charcoal, but it was as if he could hear the questions dance in Wednesday's head that made him look up. When he realised that Wednesday was no longer entranced by the plant as she had been for the past hour without so much a blink of her eye, he quickly shut down his sketchbook, burying it deep into his backpack right after.

Wednesday lifted a brow at his actions, "If that was what I think it was, then I need you to show me."

"No, I don't," Xavier quickly shot back in a hushed whisper, eyes glancing anywhere but at the Addams girl beside him, knowing he would falter otherwise.

"You need to tell me what you've seen."

He gave her a look, nibbled on his bottom lip and let out a quick breath through his nose out of frustration. Wednesday had him between a rock and a hard place; tell her and risk piquing her curiosity even more and making her get herself and the school into trouble, or don't say anything and risk Wednesday wreaking even more havoc as she tried to dig up the dirt her own. Either way, Xavier knew that whichever outcome he would choose, it would turn out horribly one way or another.

He let his eyes wander around the classroom, craning his head over his shoulder to see if anyone was even paying attention to the two of them. But his gaze locked with Bianca, and he could feel her eyes, and those of all the other Nightshades having watched their interaction, bore into the back of his head as he turned back around.

"Not now," Was all he muttered firmly with a stiff lip as he leaned into his right, where Wednesday only reared back from the close proximity. Still, she furrowed her brows in response, not having expected such a quick retaliation. If anything, she had imagined him to keep silent with an angry pout on his lips or a witty rebuttal... maybe even a word of dismay. She lifted her chin and took his apathetic nonchalance with stride, not minding that she had been brushed aside so harshly, knowing he would concede later on. If he would keep his promise, that was. And if he wouldn't, then there would always be a way to get her answer, but then she'd get them on her own terms and she wasn't sure if the boy would look that very much. But she had asked nicely at least once, after all.

Wednesday kept her lips pursed, and this time, kept her gaze locked on the tiny wooden mantel clock on Miss Thornhill's desk, patiently waiting for time to pass. But as she dozed off into her maze of thoughts again, she felt a faint tap on her shoulder. Then again, immediately afterwards, but harsher this time, as if the person had been unsure if Wednesday had even felt at first. Four obvious and harsh taps followed each other at rapid speed and dug into her skin.

She steadily turned around in her seat, uninterested and maybe even a little vexed at the disruption of her thoughts, the audacity of having breached her personal space and the prospect of having to socialize. Yet, as her eyes flashed left and right, no one was behind her, no one able to have reached her shoulder from their distance anyway. She watched as Yoko's head rested against the palm of her hands and how Enid perked up the moment their gazes locked. Then she saw Bianca, who looked at her through squinted eyes. She turned back around, letting her eyes travel across the many plants standing to the side; maybe she could catch Thing hiding behind one, even if she knew damn well that if Thing had been the one behind the taps, both Yoko and Bianca would have looked at her differently like everyone usually did when they first saw the handy addition to the Addams family.

Wednesday brushed it off, seeing no need to dwell on it now. Fifteen minutes and class would be over. Keeping her eyes on the plant that had intrigued her for the first half of class, she suddenly realised that she would need to do her best to stay on the winning side of things, or else she wouldn’t be the victorious carnivorous plant, but the insect it had trapped and killed.

*⋆.*:·ﾟ .: ⋆*·ﾟ: .⋆

The greenhouse emptied out quickly, but Xavier gathered his stuff at an excruciatingly slow pace, trying to stall the inevitable, making Wednesday's impatience grow by the second. Finally, he hoisted his backpack around his shoulder and the two left Nevermore's greenhouses, Thornhill watching them leave.

With a soft tug on the sleeve of her blackened Nevermore uniform, Xavier ushered her to a more secluded place outside in the gardens, away from prying ears.

"Listen-" As Xavier sighed and looked around him, Wednesday already knew he was trying to get himself out of the situation as soon as he could, "I know we all owe you an explanation, I know we've been weird, but I care too much about you to risk getting you killed."

"You should know that I happen to find near-death experiences thrilling and delightful."

"Right," He grew uneasy as Wednesday's penetrating glare tore through his eyes, "Still, I'd rather have you alive than dead. And you don't know what you will unleash onto the school if you continue to push on. Please, think this through."

"I appreciate the sentiment, however, you made a promise; to tell me what was shown to you in your drawing."

"I never promised anything."

Wednesday gave him a look, knowing he might have been right with that one, but that she had him in a corner nonetheless.

"Alright! Fine. But honestly Wednesday, you need to swear to let it go. Nevermore's already got enough problems as it is."

"You do realise that I will look for answers either way, with or without your help?"

Xavier nodded, a hint of a grimace on his face, "You've made that clear. But look, as much as I hate to say this, if you will ignore our warnings from this point on, we'll have to try and stop you."

"I'll be looking forward to it. Though I hope your attempts to thwart me will be far better than your attempt to kidnap me." She lifted her chin and examined him through squinted eyes. Xavier seemed uneasy, whether that was because he refused to help the girl further or admit to trying to stop her she did not know. Or maybe he seemed so unsettled because of what he had seen in his drawing, "You really are all terrified, aren't you?"

"If you knew what you were digging up, you'd be too."

"To be terrified is a foreign concept to me." Wednesday folded her arms against her chest, "You expect me to back down, yet you make my quest to find answers so much more interesting by being cryptic."

Xavier furrowed his brows, realising his mistake, "Look, you probably misheard it that first night. No one at Nevermore plays the violin or any other string instrument, it's literally impossible for you to have heard it. I know that Miss Thornhill likes to listen to her fair share of classical music, perhaps you heard that echo around Ophelia Hall? It's easy to mistake where the sound is coming from in such an old building, you know?"

"Your attempts to sway me are endearing." Wednesday muttered, quickly losing her patience, "Now tell me what you saw."

Xavier locked his jaw and shook his head, "I can't- I won't, but I'll show you the drawing if it makes you back down," He regretfully pulled his sketchbook out of his back, seeming to try and fight his own decision, and flicked through the pages, keeping it open with his hand on the right page to stop the harsh autumn wind from blowing through the pages.

"There, happy now?"

Wednesday watched the drawing with focused intent; Xavier had depicted her holding a violin at its neck, the strings snapped in half and sticking out in a tangle, her eyes filled by the harsh scribbling of his charcoal, with an equally as black silhouette lurking behind her, whose hand rested on her shoulder. What it meant, she did not know, but Xavier did, and it seemed to plague him.

"No, forget about it." He spoke before the words could even leave her mouth, "I've already done more than I should've or wanted to." He was quick to put his sketchbook away in his bag again, when a gust of wind ruffled through the pages, making Wednesday catch a glimpse of another drawing. Deciding to keep her mouth shut, she turned on her heel,

"Thank you for being a regretful waste of my time."

"You don't know what you're getting yourself into, Wednesday."

The corners of her mouth pulled up into the ghost of a grin, "That's exactly why I love it so."

With her mind now even more set on continuing her search, she also had another goal in mind; to find out what other sketches Xavier was hiding. She knew the boy had been drawing this week more than ever, and going by the way he held his sketchbook close to his chest at all times, she knew it was something he didn't want her to see. Maybe her handy little friend would be of much to find out what it was exactly.

*⋆.*:·ﾟ .: ⋆*·ﾟ: .⋆

Wednesday could hear the music booming through the stairwell as she walked her way up to Ophelia Hall's attic. Enid was so enthralled singing along to whatever K-Pop band she was fawning over now, that she failed to sense her roomie's presence until the Addams girl stood right in front of her.

"I'd rather watch a video of humans reuniting with their pets than have to listen to your choice of music one minute longer."

"Oh, Wednesday!" Enid's cheek flushed and she quickly hid whatever she had been knitting underneath her duvet. As if she hadn't just been caught, the girl batted her eyelashes, then turned her music down.

"Needed to blow off some steam, all good now. Anyway, I assumed you would be out looking for answers?"

With only an eye roll, Wednesday dropped her stuff near the door and sat back down behind her typewriter, growing frustrated when she couldn't find the right words. What was she going to write about now? About what had happened lately? About her findings? Her research? About Jericho's monster or about her father's conviction? Continue her novel? Or maybe about what she thought was going on with the Nightshades?

"What have you been up to?" Enid interrupted her thoughts. The girl now on her bed, her chin resting on the palms of her hands as her legs dangled up behind her in the air.

Wednesday turned around, "Have you seen Thing?"

"Uh, he painted my nails before class. Then he went off. I figured he went to look for you?"

Wednesday bit the insides of her cheeks, perhaps it had been Thing after all who had tried to catch her attention by tapping her shoulder.

Enid excitedly wiggled one of her hands, "He picked Silver Moon, do you like it?"

"It...," She watched Enid's excited and expectant expression as she anticipated Wednesday's answer, and remembered Thing's warning to be less harsh to the girl who tried her best to accommodate her, "...suits you."

Enid's grin only grew wider, instantly keen to keep the conversation going now that Wednesday seemed in somewhat of a good mood. But Wednesday still sat in her chair, back turned towards her again, staring at the wall right in front of her as her thoughts travelled to the depths of her mind.

"Okay... what's going on? You're being more quiet than usual."

Wednesday glanced at Enid, contemplating whether to be honest or not, but then quickly turned back around to type away on her typewriter, the words suddenly begging to be written as they flowed out of her fingers.

"Well, that's not reassuring." Enid laughed awkwardly, getting off the bed and approaching with caution. She was yet to completely figure out all of her roomie's tells, her behaviour sometimes still left her baffled and confused, even hurt at times.

"You haven't written that much in days. Does that mean that you found out more about her?" Though Enid wasn't sure about digging up information on the whole mystery anymore after all her friends had tried to turn her away from it, she remained intrigued nonetheless. She'd also given up on trying to convince Wednesday from letting it go, knowing the girl was not a stickler for the rules and tended to be like a rabid dog; refusing to let go, no matter who asked.

"I am certain there's more to the story, and I will find out what they're hiding from me." Wednesday turned around, determination etched in her features.

"Okay... but maybe you shouldn't... if what Xavier told me is true, then... well, I don't want you to turn insane. Or get killed. He told me that's what will happen once you hear her play. She'll drive you mad, visit you in your dreams and then come for you!" Enid rushed out in panic and played with her fingers, an adorable saddened and plagued pout on her face. Wednesday could almost feel her heart beat once if it hadn't been for the disgust she felt right after. Enid's words of care had taken her a bit by surprise.

She swiftly pulled herself together, "I acknowledge your worry, but I have to do this." She turned back to her typewriter, a clear sign that this conversation was over, needing to get her thoughts off her chest. "Besides, there's no use dwelling on me losing my sanity since it seems you all think I have already lost it to begin with. And frankly, I'm already looking forward to all the nightmares."

Enid slowly retreated back to her bed, unsettling concern in her eyes and her chest tightening with a feeling of impending danger. Still, she did not utter another word to the Addams girl but granted her the peace she knew she needed. She had mumbled out a quiet goodnight before turning all her lights off, except for the fairy lights around her bed to give her some sense and safety in the dark. But as she had glanced over to Wednesday's bed half an hour later to check up on her roomie, the girl already seemed fast asleep.

*⋆.*:·ﾟ .: ⋆*·ﾟ: .⋆

The second Wednesday heard Enid's soft occasional snore, she immediately sat up on her bed. She was a woman on a mission, and she would not let anyone get in her way. Her feet almost floated as she rushed around Nevermore Academy, her mind made up and the determination evident in her walk. Arriving at the Quad, she quickly turned to disappear in the shadowed nook that would lead her to the library, but a sound stopped her in her tracks. An echoed melodious whistled tune bounced against the walls of the Quad, disappearing in the open air of the cold autumn night. Not wanting any Nightshade member, or worse, Weems, to catch her in the act and stop her, she disappeared within the shadows of the dimly lit stone hall. Perking her ears to try and see if she might have misheard, she listened intently for another sound, but none followed.

Turning to the statue, Wednesday snapped twice and watched it open its entrance for her. The gravelling of the statue scraped against the stone tiles and was like a siren in the night, and if Wednesday had kept her ears perked, she would have recognised the melodious tune that echoed against the pillars of the Quad once more, as she had done mere seconds before. Instead, she followed the stairs down, feeling the eyes of the many people in the portraits rhetorically watching her enter the Nightshades Library.

The soft pitter-patter that followed behind her was unmistakenly that of Thing, and she all but rolled her eyes realising he was probably there to put a spanner in her works. She stopped in the middle of the library and watched him fasten his step to catch up to her.

"You'll find yourself to be powerless in your attempt to cease my need to find answers. Besides, where have you been all day?"

Thing was shaking in his place, quickly signing that he was there to protect her before walking right past her. He hoisted himself up onto the many bookcases and hastily skimmed through the titles and covers that were on display. Wednesday watched, her eyebrows slightly raised in surprise, for this was the first time Thing had not tried to keep her away from danger. Which meant he had either seen reason in her quest or valued the need of keeping his five fingers intact.

"Where to start..." She quietly muttered beneath her breath, fingers travelling along the many binds of books. Some looked more worn and read than others, some had vivid golden lettering stamped on their leathered covers, and others were barely being held together by their spine.

Thing, knowing the information Xavier had shared with Enid, stopped and turned back to Wednesday.

"What is it, Thing?"

He signed, pointed, tapped and waved chaotically to get his message across. Without struggle, Wednesday recapitulated exactly what he had said,

"It's supposedly a ghost story where when one hears the violin, they're doomed as they await to be killed by her?" She pursed her lips in thought and tilted her head, "How very disappointing, I've never liked ghosts."

Thing signed away again.

"If it holds any truth, then I don't see why I should be terrified. Yes, I've heard her play, but I have also not gone non compos mentis. Yet." Wednesday mumbled absentmindedly, continuing her search for any book that could be of use, "Then again, I already am what people consider deranged."

She crossed the circled room to take a look at the bookcases on the other side, realising she probably needed more of a historic read of the Academy. If this was just a ghost story, it wouldn't have made the members of the Nightshade Society so wary. Meaning that if it held any truth, she was most likely to find something in Nevermore's history. Thing followed her example and worked himself through the dusty rows of forgotten books. It was clear that this side of the library had been untouched for years.

Promptly, Thing stopped, jumped over onto Wednesday's shoulder and frantically pointed at the portrait hidden in the shadows beneath the stairs.

Veiled beneath a thick layer of cobwebs and dust was a painting of a girl, her back straight and her piercing eyes boring right into Wednesday's, her violin neatly and proudly portrayed in front of her as it rested on her thigh. Her gaze demanded attention; her lip slightly crooked into a mischievous grin and her eyebrows resting in a manner that gave the sense she knew what Thing and Wednesday were up to. Her stare was alluring, her face memorable, for Wednesday had never seen a girl look this evil yet innocent. Intrigued by the devilish glint in the eyes that demanded to be looked at, Wednesday found herself frozen in her stare. There was something about the portrait that just wasn't quite right. As Wednesday blinked once to see if things would change, she stared at the same face, with that same need to be looked at, and Wednesday gave in to that request wholeheartedly.

She started to notice how the colours used were dark and earthy, perfectly captivating the violinist in the way she was meant to be seen; as someone mysterious and sinister. If anything, in this dim light of the Library, it looked more eerie than ever. Wednesday was drawn to it like a moth to a flame. If she didn't know any better, this portrait could have very well been part of her mother's portrait collection of people who had died in mysterious ways that adorned the walls of their living room back home at the Addams mansion.

Her captivation with the girl in the portrait was cut short when she heard someone try and tiptoe down the stairs.

"We're not the only nocturnal beings as it seems, Thing." She sighed, frustrated at the interruption, but Thing was no longer resting on her shoulder. She had been so drawn to the portrait that she hadn't even noticed him digging back into all the books behind her.

"Okay, here I thought that it was clear that you would no longer be allowed to enter after you so carelessly waved off the invitation to join the Nightshades," Bianca Barclay's voice echoed off the walls as she appeared out of the shadows, arms crossed and a haughty and disdainful look on her face.

"Here I thought you would be wiser than to think I would follow the rules of your adorable little club." Wednesday turned her back to the portrait, shielding Bianca from the view.

Bianca sighed, "What is it you want, Wednesday?"

"An end to the ongoing torture of my roommate's appalling pop songs playing on a continuous loop."

Bianca shook her head in annoyance, ready to counter with a witty reply, until her face fell, "Wait, what is that?" She tried to look over Wednesday's shoulder, craning her head.

Wednesday only tilted hers to the side, thinking she was being tricked by the sudden change of attitude, her eyes still boring into Bianca's.

"No jokes, Wednesday... that portrait- what did you do?!"

Curious, Wednesday turned around. Her eyebrows rose as she saw what Bianca had alluded to; the eyes of the girl still pierced right at her, but now from an upside-down perspective. The whole portrait had turned itself around.

"Why the hell would you do that?!" Biance's voice rose and she took a calculated step back, glancing around her, afraid she would hear the melody start to echo as the story went. "Haven't you caused Nevermore enough trouble?!" Bianca rushed over her words, her voice laced with rage and irritation but with fright, most of all. Her feet slowly but surely took steps back, towards the stairs.

Wednesday watched Bianca's unease, not sensing what was so wrong about a little paranormal visit. Back at the Addams house, they often found things being moved or turned. At least there she'd had people around her who couldn't annoy her, solely for the fact she couldn't see or hear them. But here at Nevermore, the living were so unbearable to be around.

Wednesday started to gain great delight in the realisation that maybe, just maybe, Nevermore was home to some spirits as well. Though she could never really stand them back home, for they often made the doors slam and creak whenever she tried to write, it made this school all the more interesting.

With a shaking finger, Bianca pointed at her, "You'll regret what you did, Wednesday,"

Wednesday turned back to the bookcases when Bianca's quick steps had finally disappeared, signalling the girl had left.

"We should go, before she brings her flock of insufferable friends."

Sneaking another quick look at the portrait, she walked up to it and decided to turn it back around, to leave it as it had been when she first saw it. She knew it would probably entertain the spirit even more that she had taken her bait, but maybe that was exactly what Wednesday wanted; to lure her out of the shadows she had been hiding in for who knows how long. However, as her hands touched the antique and ancient frame, a rush crept up her spine, making her body tingle with tiny jolts of electricity and her fingers turning freezing cold. Her head shot up, her eyes glazed over as she was forced into a trance-like state.

Only this time, she didn't travel into the vision itself. It was as if someone was pushing her out of them, blocking her view and restricting her senses. Images and whispered words flitted through her mind instead,

A manor in the woods, surrounded by vegetation and a lake. An old room filled with instruments, but the sound of a violin echoing above all. A name. The gates of Nevermore Academy. A body, idle, head down in the fountain in the Quad. Whispered words, pointed fingers; rumours. The sound of a violin playing. A name. Laughter; loud and devilish. A noose. A public execution at Jerrico's town square? A name. The feeling of rage, agony and betrayal. Pleading. A girl, unmistakenly the one from the portrait, looking out over the woods behind Nevermore. The spluttering sound of someone choking; a knife held to the throat. The lovely smell of iron; blood... and lots of it. And once again; a name.

A force was finally able to push her back into her body and Wednesday stumbled against the bookcases, falling on the ground with a handful of books dropping to the floor around her. She was rattled, hazed. Thing watched with care, knowing the girl had seen something.

"Y/N. Her name is Y/N."

☾ ⋆*·:⋆*·:⠀ *⋆.*:·ﾟ .: ⋆*·ﾟ: .⋆

@ghostheartbeat @the-night-owl-blr @engenelxver @screechcat @mary-jinx @mxal24 @novastargalaxydesigns @randomawesomeperson102 @reginassweetheart @mjoiner1136 @rockwyn @lostgirl1415 @rainbow-love4ever @the-lazy-turtle @elduster @queen-bunny @ghostheartbeat

#the dance of death #dance of death #wednesday x reader #wednesday addams x reader #wednesday addams imagine #wednesday one shot #wednesday imagine

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