#even if she was as bad as you think she is i don’t think that a popstar having fans is that serious
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Too Sweet | Oscar Piastri
SUMMARY: Y/n hard launches her relationship with a certain F1 driver bringing mixed reactions from her fans
FACE CLAIM: Sabrina Carpenter
PAIRINGS : singer! Reader x Oscar Piastri
a/n: I'm on a roll
y/nnnnn via instagram!
liked by olivia.rodrigo, carlossainz55 and 2,782,293 other.
y/nnnnn in my model era!
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user15 Carlos Sainz? this photoshoot has everyone on the edge of their seat
user36 she's in her lover era
user37 you are glowing
user290 you are such a goddess
user278 please give me one chance!
user38 new soon when?
-> y/nnnnn sooner than expected that's for sure
y/nnnnn via instagram!
liked by landonorris, oscarpiastri and 3,567, 092 others.
y/nnnn my new single "So American" is out on Friday!
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user25 you finally got your drivers license?
user28 this new era is upon us
user57 so American? are we finally getting a covergirl anthem?
oscarpiastri you learned how to drive? and didn't tell me?
-> y/nnnn sorry to break it to you but the car is parked, x
-> landonorris maybe you should teach her
-> user271 since when is this a thing?
user37 y/n x mclaren?
user98 she has to be dating lando, 100%
user87 omg omg lando x y/n! finally
user35 y/n in the paddock when?
user45 why is everyone assuming it's lando and not oscar?
noty/n via instagram!
liked by notthebestmclarendriver, olivia.rodrigo and 1,000 others
noty/n life recently has been so sweet
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norrizz we get it, you're in love now please stop
-> notthebestmclarendriver stop being jealous
notthebestmclarendriver love you so so much, no one can do anniversaries like us
olivia.rodrigo can't believe it's been five years since you changed me for a formula one driver
-> noty/n you will always be my number one
logansargent proud of my parents!
y/nupdates via instagram!
liked by logansargent, user37 and 2,000 other.
y/nupdates y/n l/n with mystery man in a small cafe in LA
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user15 omg! omg! omg!
user179 she finally has a man?!?
user16 we are finally getting her lover era
user189 who even is that, you can barely see who it is
user167 this is such an invasion of privacy
user278 i’m so happy for her!! she deserves this and more
user29 she looks all giggly and in love
user26 she’s down bad, i fear
user178 she should be focused on a new album not falling in love with some loser
-> user71 falling in love was what got her that grammy
user78 who f1 driver is she hooking up with to have the whole grid in her likes? cause i get her post but them following her private insta and liking fan pages is another level of crazy
y/nupdates via instagram story!
y/nupdates via instagram!
liked by user15, user17 and 2,4378 others
y/nupdates Mclaren F1 driver Oscar Piastri what was his go to song while racing and without hesitation he responded “So American” by Y/n L/n. There’s been a suspicion that Y/n has been linking up with a formula one driver, could it be oscar piastri?
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user157 i don’t think oscar is y/n’s type
-> user268 who asked for ur opinion
user278 you guys should touch some grass
user53 didn’t she say to please stop assuming things about her relationship
user17 she can also have friends that support her music
user39 let them live please
user67 and this is why she’s never been public with her relationship
user51 i don’t get why is everyone hating?
y/nupdates via instagram!
liked by user36, user57 and 5,682 other
y/nupdates leaked pictures from Y/n L/n with the f1 driver, Oscar Piastri
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user189 we never learn do we?
user16 where do people even get this
user278 this has to be photoshopped, y/n looks too good
user678 guys guys guys!!! let’s make this happen
user468 okay but they look so so good together
user26 honestly i like seeing her happy
user16 she is glowing!!!
user71 i’ll wait until they confirm it on their own time
y/nnnn via instagram!
liked by oscarpiastri, logansargent and 6,902,892 others
y/nnnn surprise! i’ll probably get my drivers license soon
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oscarpiastri why do that when you can be a passenger princess
user16 y/n is getting princess treatment
logansargent my happy family
landonorris please get off my feed, i have to see you guys enough in the real world
user51 omg omg omg it’s finally confirmed!!!
user178 should we act surprised ?
oscarpiastri i love you x
user17 our girl is all grown up
oscarpiastri i’m so coquette, lana del rey vinyl
-> y/nnnn how do you even know that?
-> oscarpiastri not important
user56 it’s not considered a soft launch because she tagged him right?
oscarpiasri via instagram!
liked by landonorris, y/nnnn and 2,068,890 others
oscarpiastri i swear it’s not photoshop, i’m actually dating an angel
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y/nnnn i hate you for using that last picture
-> oscarpiastri don’t lie you love meee
user15 okay now i see the appeal
user78 hot couple alert!
landonorris again? i’m going to be sick
-> oscarpiastri go cry about it
user16 oh i know the new album is about to be good
y/nnnn drivers lessons are coming soon right? x
#imagines#imagine#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#f1 x you#oscar pastri x reader#oscar piastri x you#oscar piastri x reader#oscar piastri#f1 2024#oscar pastry#oscar piastri imagine#Oscar pastri smau#smau#f1 smau#f1 social media au#social media au#formula 1#mclaren
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“I really like this place,” Yachi says brightly, “the owner is really nice, and he doesn’t mind when I take ten minutes to decide what I want. Once I took twenty minutes and he actually just brought me food, like, decided for me, and at first I thought that was so nice! Then I got worried that maybe I should be upset that he didn’t let me choose, but then I remembered that I could just come here again so I wasn’t missing out on anything. The food was really good, anyway.”
You hover between the cool interior of the restaurant and the summer daylight as she speaks, unwilling to walk away even though she’s holding the door open and probably letting all the cold air out. With a short yelp, she realizes how long the two of you have been standing there and crosses inside. You stand behind her in the line behind the counter, shuffling forward as you read the posted menu.
“I think I’m gonna get the salmon,” you decide. “Hey, so how are things with that girl you’ve been seeing?”
“They’ve been good!” You’re about three people away from the counter, but the first one is line is like, a really huge guy with a booming voice who has been talking forever. Maybe he knows the cashier? “She’s really pretty, and she doesn’t mind or get impatient when I’m anxious. She also gets anxious!”
“That’s great?” You pat her on the shoulder. “I’m really happy for you, Yachi.”
“Me too,” she beams at you. “What about you? Have you met anyone?”
“No,” you snort. “I’m on the apps. So dating is basically a cesspool.” The giant guy who was ordering seems to be done now, but he’s still talking, being slowly dragged away by the elbow by a guy in a cardigan and glasses. You slide your phone out of your pocket and open your dating profile. “See?”
At that moment, your phone pings with a new notification.
Atsumu liked you!
He’s not… bad looking. If you saw him in real life, you’d probably hide behind a bench or something and stalk him with your eyes just so you could look at him as long as you wanted, actually.
He’s your age, a pro volleyball player, his hair dark where it’s been shaved short on the sides but dyed blond up top. He has a kind of sardonic, dead-eyed expression in all of his photos that you think is really funny.
My love language is… arguing in missionary.
You smother a laugh.
“He’s kind of cute!” Yachi peers at your phone. “Kind of scary…”
“Please, I could beat him up,” you laugh. “I don’t know, he’s fine, I guess.”
You swipe left. He’s hot, but definitely a fuckboy. You’ve reached the counter, anyway, and a pro athlete on the apps is like, so many red flags.
You look up at the cashier.
You look down at your phone and click undo. The profile reappears.
You look up at the cashier.
“Fine, you guess?” Scowls Atsumu, 23, (volley)baller. Or maybe not, considering his Onigiri Miya apron. “Welcome to Onigiri Miya, what can I get for ya. Geez.”
He talks in Kansai dialect, you note, which you’ve always thought is melodic. Pretty.
In real life, Atsumu is very pretty. His eyes have midtones of honey and amber that don’t show up on photo and give him a sparkling dimension that sort of detracts from his aura of evil. Even though he’s scowling at you, you want to ruffle his hair and bite his cheek.
“Um, I’ll have the salmon ball,” you say. “And, yeah. I guess.”
He scribbles so hard he breaks the tip of his pencil. With a grunt of disgust, he tosses both notepad and pencil over his shoulder.
“What, pro athlete not good enough for ya?” He points at Yachi, who squeaks. “And for ya?”
“What?” She says, looking terrified. You put a bracing hand on her shoulder.
“Your order,” he drawls.
“Oh! I don’t know.”
“Two salmon balls!” He yells to the back. “‘S on the house.”
“What?” Yachi gasps. “We couldn’t possibly—”
“You’re clearly not a professional athlete,” you say. “You’re a cashier.”
“This is charity work!” He snaps. “My teammate is right over there if ya need proof. I’m Miya Atsumu—this is my brother’s shop. I help him out on my off days.” He emphasizes his family name, underlining it on his apron with a finger.
That’s really sweet. You swoon a little inside, then shake yourself.
“You’re off every time this time this week?”
“Yeah, about,” he turns and bends over to grab his hastily discarded notepad. You do not make a secret of checking out his ass and quirk your lips into a smile when he turns back around, one he matches with reckless abandon. He has nice teeth, not perfectly straight, that imply that maybe he didn’t need braces growing up.
“Let me repay you for the meal,” you put a hand on the counter and lean across it, biting your lip, stomach singing with nerves. “Eight, next week?”
“Nah,” he shrugs you off, gestures for you to move along so he can get to the next customer in line. Your stomach drops, and so must your face. “Too far away. I’ll see ya this Friday for dinner.”
#shorts!#atsumu x reader#miya atsumu x reader#haikyuu!! x reader#haikyuu x reader#hq x reader#hq!! x reader#inspired by a comment nova left on one of my personal posts#and the horrors of online dating (in which i will NEVER partake)#miya atsumu x reader fluff#atsumu x reader fluff#meet-combative-cute?#haikyuu x reader fluff#haikyuu x reader drabble#atsumu x reader drabble#miya atsumu x reader drabble
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˖ ࣪ ⟢ bill doesn’t think he’s a good fuck
looking at the screen in disbelief, replays the video as to bill’s ex girlfriend live streaming the announcements to why she broke up with her boyfriend, ‘why did i dump my sexy boyfriend..? because he was bad at sex!!!’ as voices around the class continue to mumble so loud that their secrets were no longer secrets. a pat to comfort his broken spirit, tom, gustav and georg stood by their lead singer.
“don’t listen to her bill, i mean, i know your dick isn’t as big as mine but surely you can’t be that bad!” tom exclaims, georg and gustav stare at the dread-headed boy in disbelief to his attempts in comforting his younger brother, “really helpful tom, are you serious??” georg spews but bill himself doesn’t even seem to be listening to him.
blood and thoughts rush to his head as be begins to feel dizzy, her agonizing voice booming through his head as a reminder as to that the multiple times they’ve done it, she’s never felt good. it was all, fake, and inevitably, all for nothing. how could she?? georg and gustav echo in the back of his head as they call her an attention whore who’s just looking for trouble, but again, bill can’t help but scroll through the comments of how lame of a ‘boyfriend’ he was.
“try not to let her get to yer head mr. sexy ex boyfriend, you deserve way better than this—oh, we gotta go now?? see’ya later bill!”
gustav leans to look down at bill’s face who sulks at his cellphone, quickly leaving as the three boys now have to leave for basketball practice. shutting his phone off and slamming it onto the wooden desk, bill remain seated in the classroom where bodies begin to dissipate in the academic environment at the sound of the school bell ringing for the end of the day. maybe he should just stay home tomorrow, he thought, or for the rest of the week, or for like, forever.
a tap on your shoulder causes you to turn to the figure that stood behind you, “hey y/n,”
with a smile, you hug the baggy-clothed figure. “tom! what’s up? where’s bill?” with a heavy sigh, tom looks at the floor, licks his lips and looks back to you, “that’s exactly why i’m here. bill hasn’t come out of his room in days. he’s missed more school than i have, can you believe that?? i mean, we knew that his lazy ass would’ve loved to skip to stay home, but he never actually followed through, d’ya think you could go see him? he won’t talk to me.”
you tilt your head in confusion, “if he won’t even talk to his own brother what makes you think that he’ll talk to his neighbour?”
“i-i don’t know, out of courtesy i guess? i know he’d hate it if he were ever rude to you, considering that you’ve helped us ever since we were young.. he’s always listened to you. just, please, give it a try? his morale has been down ever since the breakup,” and you’ve definitely heard of it, who didn’t. that crazy bitch of an ex had no hesitation in streaming the whole thing for the world to see, for even his previous ex’s before him decided to also come out about the same ‘problem.’ poor bill, you thought. you made a mental note to go to his house right after school.
with a knock to his bedroom door, school had finally ended and you made your way to the kaulitz household before going back to your own home to finally talk some spirit back into bill! greeting ms.kaulitz, she eagerly let you in with a pinch of your cheek and a thanks for trying to help her son out, mentioning that she can’t keep him home for any longer before he can’t graduate highschool.
“bill? hey, it’s me. can ya let me in? i need to talk to you,” but you were met with silence.
standing in front of his door, still, you waited, and waited. five minutes passed before you finally decided to give up and think that maybe he’s finally cracked and you were no longer able to provide him the comfort you and him were always used to. that is, until, you hear the creak of a door opening, implicitly inviting you into bill’s private space. widening the gap of his door, you’re met with your best friend, sat in his bed, wearing sweatpants and a slim fit greenday tee, messy hair and without makeup.
he hasn’t been crying, but his face is visible with glum, “hi y/n..” his voice, soft and quiet. you make your way toward his bed and plop yourself beside him, awkwardly hugging him.
“tom’s told me you’ve been missing school. c’mon. you’re gonna really let her get to you that bad?”
he sits there, just listening as you begin to ramble, explaining to him how you knew she was a bad person from the start. that she only really wanted him for the fame and if he was really that bad at sex? she as a good girlfriend would look past that and just love him for him, but she didn’t. biting his nails, he chips away at the black and white polish that adorned his fingers. you notice this, and immediately grab his hands away, intertwining your fingers with his and placing both your hands in your lap.
“—stop that. but anyways, it’s unbelievable!! like, i can’t believe that despite how long you’ve dated, she has the fucking gall to go and say that. and even worse, say it in public?? like are you kidding me?? what a bitch..”
and bill almost laughs, because you never swear. not in the many years that you’ve known him, and you made a promise to yourself that you never would. but today, of all days, had just become he day you broke that promise. who knew, that even although this wasn’t your relationship, you were angry. angrier than bill, THE ex-boyfriend. smiling, he appreciated you getting angry for him.
“is that a smile i see?” you tease, “in your dreams.. but, do you think she’s right?”
“right about what?”
“about me being bad at sex,”
“o-oh, uh, i haven’t actually thought about that y’know? being friends and all it isn’t really something that’s on my mind..”
“i have.”
“you what?”
“i’ve thought about it. about you. have been. for the past days, actually,” he brings a hand to caress the backside of your neck, that soon pushes your head closer to his so he can press a kiss onto your lips. already flustered, you use an arm to gently push away his body, that only fights back to be closer to you.
“bill.. we shouldn’t, you just got out of a relationship and—”
“please, schatzi, i wanna prove it to the world.. indulge me just this once ‘kay?”
“hnn.. bill, you’re taking too long..” you wail, sopping cunt that prettily sits above the pudgy tip of bill’s cock. you straddle his lap as you try to push yourself down onto his length but he only holds your hips still. “patience, baby. tryna savour every moment that we have together, ‘m trying here y’know, holdin’ myself back to reallyyy prove that i’m as good as a fuck that she doesn’t say i am.”
seconds pass that feel like agonizing hours, bill finally slides his length into your cunt, the shape of your walls perfectly moulding to his shape. bill’s pupils dilate at the sight of how you just swallow him whole, hugging his cock as you feel every pulse of him inside of you, “can i move?”
nodding, bill guides your body up and down him, slick already leaking onto his lap as he gropes onto your tit, squeezing the flesh to his liking, a needy hum eliciting from your lips. he stared, and stared, and wholeheartedly admired at how pliable your body was within his touch, bad at sex? yeah right.
“so pretty..” a low groan escapes as he brings his mouth to your chest, tongue swirling against the hard and sensitive bud, leaving you to entangle a grip into his hair, bringing his head closer to your body than it already his. “f-fuck bill, you feel, amaz—ah—amazing..” as he looks up to you from down below, he smirks as he nips on your chest, already tainted with hickeys you didn’t even know were there in such a short amount of time.
“yeah? feelin’ good princess? we’re more compatible than you probably thought so..” he’s talking about earlier, about how you never thought that you would ever have fornication with one of your best friends, “eeeek..! t-that’s because you had a girlfriend!! it’d be wrong to..”
a conflicted hum falls onto your ears, “considering that.. isn’t it also wrong how you’re circling your hips onto mine?? wouldn’t it be wrong that you just can’t help but fuck yourself deeper onto me while also complain that we’re ‘just friends?’” and you can’t help but feel as though bill is right. you’re just as bad as he is with how you continue to bounce on his cock, tongue lolled out for him to collect all the saliva that threatens to spill out of your mouth.
tongues dancing in harmony while your hips move in sync, the both of you chase your orgasms, “h-hahh.. y/n.. s’know what? am i bad as a fuck as she thinks i am..?” and you shake your head, you shake your head as bill begins to relentlessly thrust his cock to bully your cervix and body into total and utter submission, a pulse of electric pleasure surges through your body.
and he frowns to your lack of verbal response, a shake of the head isn’t enough. why won’t you say something? he wonders and wonders, and his wondering has led him to continues thrust as you bitch and moan from pressure of his mushroom tip that abuses the sensitive cunt that’s now his to please. “answer me, liebe.”
it feels dirty, it feels wrong. but the overpowering feeling of sex overpowers such thoughts, bill kisses your sweaty forehead as he awaits your answer. and you want to, trust me! you really do want to answer his question, this was the whole reason you decided to show up to his bedroom door, isn’t it?
“shit, gonna cum bill, wait—”
“but you haven’t” thrust. “answered” thrust. “my” thrust. “question :(.”
“yes!!”
“yes what, baby?” bill goads onto you as he brings the pad of his thumb to rub circles onto your clit, “say it.”
“you are a good fuck!! oh my god—” in an attempts to speak, all you manage to squeak out a short and sweet sentence. complete bliss clouding your mind as you begin to see white. however, bill doesn’t seem completely satisfied with your answer as he curls his arms tighter around your body, the slapping sound of skin growing louder by the second, “and what else?”
“makin’ me feel s’good! ah! i’m gonna come on this cock!! this cock that’s—mmngh—making me feel like i’m in heaven! oh..! oh thank you, thank you—thank you bill..!”
“that’s right, i am a good fuck aren’t i baby?”
hai guys , i’m back :3 bee tee dubz the setting takes place in highschool but everyone is of age ^_^
will i be active?? maybe not .. i have sm reqs to do and i’ll try to get em out asap , no promises tho <3 i love you all , and i guess i’m not ready to leave yet . see you next post !
#tokio hotel#tokio hotel x y/n#tokio hotel x you#tokio hotel x reader#tokio hotel fluff#tokio hotel smut#bill kaulitz#bill kaulitz x y/n#bill kaulitz x you#bill kaulitz x reader#bill kaulitz fluff#bill kaulitz smut#2000s#fyp#billskeis
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deer!reader who prunes in the bath for hours everytime she’s upset. this time it was jj’s fault, and he’d admit it. he was meant to pick her up from work and take her out to eat — but he got caught up in pogue stuff and forgot.
he lets himself into her home knowing her family were away. usually when he did so, her skittish footsteps would come sliding along the hallway, barrelling into him quietly rambling about how she can recognise the pattern of his footsteps which is how she knew it was him — but now the house was too quiet. he could hear the pipes churning however, and distantly if he listened close enough — the dripping of the taps upstairs.
she stares ahead when he enters, still wearing a face full of makeup from her day as she reclines in the bath tub. if she were in a different mood, she’d comment on how very sofia coppola the whole thing was— but she was sad, and feeling neglected, so instead she huffs subtly out her nose, not wanting to acknowledge the blonde.
“okay so… i messed up.” he begins carefully as he creeps into the room. “y’know i was actually like, super looking forward to seeing you i just… i lost track of the time. you know how bat shit crazy john b has been lately over this whole treasure thing.” he exasperates, dragging his feet over to the side of the bath. out the corner of your eye, you can see him rubbing at his chest nervously. it almost made you feel guilty.
you say nothing. as much as you wanted to do the mature thing and communicate how it made you feel, how all of it had been making you feel lately — you feel to indulge the pettier side to you instead. perhaps if you acted uncharacteristically and gave him the silent treatment, he’d see you meant business. he presses his lips together, nodding and yanks his hat off, dropping it by his feet.
“nothing? okay uh… i deserve that.” he ticks his head, staring at you in thought for a moment before lowering himself to his knees besides the tub. the water sways as you shuffle slightly, the dripping sound the only noise present in the room for a second. “how can i make it up to you? i’m here now so, let me.” his gaze is serious, brows raised at your side profile.
you don’t offer him a response, not directly anyway. you simply cast your eyes down with a sad sigh. maybank bites his lip in thought before standing on his knees, moving as close as he could. stroking your cheek with his thumb, he stared wistfully. the thumb travels to tuck itself beneath your bottom lip, and you try not to preen into his touch. noticing your resistance, he thinks for a moment longer before pushing his sleeve up, sinking his arm into the warm water.
“i don’t like it when you’re sad, bamb. makes me all sad. think i got a few ideas on how to apologise though.” he speaks quietly, in that lower tone that only you get to hear. he smiles when his hand touches your thigh and you bashfully spread them beneath the water without any convincing. “that’a girl.” he hums.
fingers trailing up your thigh toward your centre, he continues to stare at you, eyes occasionally jumping to his hand. your breath hitches and you try to hold your resistance and be strong, but you missed his touch and it’s hard. without having to tell him that he nods. “i know.” he drawls, the southern twang comforting you. “messed up real bad, huh?”
you nod, and he takes the slight communication as a win, knowing he’s buttering you up. the water splashes lightly when he reaches your cunt, gently massaging your clit beneath the water. a shaky breath leaves you and his teeth find his bottom lip again, concentrated. “i’on even deserve t’touch you but… s’the least i can do. gotta give the princess her princess treatment n’stuff.” he comments, and you relax further into the tub, a quiet whimper leaving you as your legs spread wider. “mmhm.” he responds.
this continues for a little while longer before you can’t take it and you speak.
“you need to make time for me.” you whisper and he nods, eyes wide and almost innocent.
“i gotta make way more time for you. gonna clear my whole schedule bae.” he sounds desperate, and you’re glad he’s understanding. your brows furrow, panting, feeling too hot in the water now.
“jj.” you enquire and his eyes don’t leave you, nodding again.
“yes— yeah?”
“take me out the bath. wan’you to fuck me on the bed.” you mewl quietly, ashamed at how fast you broke.
“yes ma’am.” he wastes no time, hand leaving you to yank the plug from the bath, tripping over and falling onto his knees when he attempts to get up and run to grab you a towel.
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KIM MINJEONG x FEM!READER
Prompt: your usually shy girlfriend wants to ask you to help her but your bad mood scares her off
Warnings/Notes: g!p Minjeong, subby Minjeong, riding, squirting, creampie, handjobs, blow jobs
“H-Hah I’m s-so close…N-Need to cum..” Minjeong growled, stroking her cock faster and shutting her eyes tight when she could feel herself going to the edge.
She wished you were there stroking her instead. Kissing her until she made a mess on your hand.
She needed you.
“Oh my god just fucking kill me, will you!?”
“Wah!” Poor Minjeong jumped from the couch at your sudden dramatic entrance and how the slamming of the door pretty much shook the entire apartment.
You were too pent up with your rant that you didn’t see your girlfriend rushing to pull up her boxers and pants with a red face.
“What’s with the manager being up my ass all the fucking time?! I’m only one person and it’s not my fault other people in my damn group don’t even make up one brain cell! NOT EVEN ONE!”
Minjeong stood in between the gap that separated the living room and kitchen, watching you slam your purse on the counter and pacing back and forth.
Profanity after profanity left your lips and Minjeong could see the steam coming from your ears. Your girlfriend fiddled with the sleeves of her hoodie and cleared her throat to try and get your attention.
“H-Hi babe”
“Ugh and I don’t even get paid extra for doing most of that shitty work! I might as well quit on the spot and see him cry!”
Minjeong sealed her lips and couldn’t ignore the pain in her dick, begging to be touched.
You finished your rant with a click of your tongue and saw your girlfriend standing there in fear. “Shit, I’m sorry Jeongie. I didn’t mean to scream around like that, I’m just really over my shift today”
“It’s okay, babe. Wanna sit down and talk about it?”
Aw your baby was such a sweetheart.
“No no, we can do that later. I think a nap will fix it all”
Minjeong smiled and took your hand to lead you to your shared bedroom. Being in a relationship for so long, you two always slept half naked. You being in your panties and Jeongie in her boxers.
Something about the skin to skin contact was just so comforting.
Only issue is, Minjeong’s boner was still rock hard and you managed to miss it even when you finally got under the covers with her.
But your girlfriend wouldn’t let you cuddle.
“Baby? What’s wrong?” You questioned, making her even more nervous.
“Uh it’s nothing, really..”
“Puppy, whatever it is, spill it right now” You practically ordered, eyebrow twitching.
Minjeong huffed. “ihaveabonerandineedyoutohelpmecum”
“Huh?”
Minjeong spun on her other side away from you and hugged the blanket over her head. “Haha nothing never mind! time to sleep goodnight I love you!”
Ripping the covers off your girlfriend, you made her lie on her back while you sat on her stomach. “Stop shying away pup. Tell me what you want”
“I’m gonna go get a drink of water—WAH!” Minjeong yelped at her wrists being pinned on each side of her head.
“Say it”
Your girlfriend’s pout almost made you fold but you clenched your jaw to not give in so easily.
“M-My dick is…uh very hard..”
“Uh huh…”
“A-And I n-need you to help me..cum”
You kissed her lips and smiled. “Now was that so hard?”
“Well yes! You stormed into the apartment like a mad woman!”
Now it was your turn to pout and huff. “I said I was sorry!”
Your girlfriend looked away. “You seemed really tired too so I didn’t want to bother—“
Kiss
Minjeong went redder at your sudden move. “H-Hey!”
“Don’t you ever believe you’d bother me, okay pup?”
“Yes ma’am”
“Good. Now let me suck your dick”
Minjeong couldn’t even answer since you already yanked her pants and boxers off to start playing with her dick. She watched you with parted lips, panting at the sight of your small hands working itself up and down.
“You alright there, puppy?” You smiled into her neck as her head hung back in pleasure.
“Better than alright”
You kissed her slowly and got your tongue exploring Minjeong’s mouth which she moaned into. She would pause for a moment to watch you jerk her off faster, losing the strength to keep her eyes open.
“C-Can you please suck me off, baby? Pretty please” she whimpered while looking so deep into your eyes, you were able to see Minjeong well up tears.
“Of course, my love”
You lowered your head down and quickly sucked at your girlfriend’s leaking tip before taking her entirely inside. Her hands found comfort on your head that began to move, being one of the lucky people to not have a gag reflex.
You were able to deepthroat her so easily without a problem and Minjeong was in heaven every single time.
“Fuck. Oh fuck, Y/n-ie”
The vibration from your hum triggered your girlfriend’s hips to thrust, shocking her immediately. “N-No I’m sorry! A-Are you okay?”
Keeping her cock deep inside your throat, you gently caressed her hands on your head and she took it as the green light to do as she pleases.
Minjeong relaxes more and resumed her hip movement, tucking your hair behind your ears as she hissed out profanities.
“So so fucking good, Y/n-ie. I want to cum in your mouth. Can I pretty please?”
Another approved hum from you, and your girlfriend reacted with a punched out groan at the same time she fills your mouth with cum.
“Hah…so good…”
You sat up with pride after swallowing your personal favourite liquid snack, cleaning your mouth with a simple swipe from the back of your hand. Minjeong was still catching her breath when you hovered above her lap and held her still hard length at your soaked folds.
Minjeong doesn’t even remember seeing you remove your clothes because now here you were bouncing on her cock with your plush tits in her view. She kissed the flower tattoos across your collarbones before resting her lips on your right nipple, sucking gently as her hands held your hips.
She could almost touch the tips of her fingers together from how small your waist was, her middle fingers resting on your back dimples perfectly.
“Hah fuck! My Minjeongie is so good for letting me use her cock hm?” You managed to word out despite constantly impaling yourself onto her thick and long cock.
Minjeong nodded cutely and almost choked on her saliva when your cunt seemed to tighten around her more. “U-Use me all you want, Y/n-ie”
“Fuck, feels so fucking good, Jeongie! I’m so close, help me cum baby”
Your girlfriend didn’t need to be told twice. She planted her feet on the bed and wrapped you in her arms like a bear before destroying your pussy with repeatedly hard thrusts.
The bed was constantly being driven into the wall from how fast your girlfriend was going but who were you to complain? Her cock was kissing your cervix deliciously and you immediately became mush in Minjeong’s hands, crying and moaning into her neck to the point you even started to drool.
“Oh god yes yes yes that’s it, puppy! Gonna make me cum all over your big hard cock hm?”
Minjeong painted your neck with hickies. “Mhm want to make Y/n-ie cum!”
“Fuck you’re so good to me pup. Give me all of your cum okay? Want you to fill me until my pussy aches. Can you do that?”
Minjeong’s eyes rolled back at your words. “Hah..I’m cumming!”
“That’s it, baby! Fuck I’m gonna squirt!” You bit onto your girlfriend’s broad shoulder and shook in her arms as you sprayed clear liquid all over her cock, pelvis and even the sheets.
Minjeong continued thrusting until she emptied her balls inside your drenched cunt. “Holy shit…”
You pulled your ass up slowly as Minjeong’s cock fell limp and watched thick globs of semen rain from your pussy, moaning at the sight.
After taking a quick taste of her cum, you took the covers that you pushed off earlier and hugged it over you and Minjeong’s bodies, comfortably laying on top of your girlfriend.
Minjeong brushed your hair and was about to ask how you were until she heard slight snoring. You were knocked out quick. Smiling at the sight, your girlfriend sweetly kissed your head and fell asleep with you, reminding herself to give you a good shower once you woke up.
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So high school || Leah Williamson
warning smut 18+, fingering, semi-public setting?
Based on this request here. Thank you for the idea :)
You and Leah had been dating for just over seven months and to say it had been the best time of your life was the biggest understatement of the century.
With the stress of your degree, constantly writing new songs for your album and dealing with the responsibility of adult life, it was Leah who brought back the fun in your life.
To the current day, you've always, and always will, say that your relationship with Leah was a high school relationship.
It was as if every time you looked at her you felt, well there's no better way to describe it other than just high school.
The day you met Leah at an event, was the day that changed your life forever.
Leah, being the confident captain she was, asked you on a date before even saying hello.
Wanting to take a change from your normal over-thinking self, you agreed.
When you said yes, you thought you'd go out for dinner with her, get bored of her and never see her again.
What you didn't expect was to end up seeing her again the following night and then again and again.
Leah made you forget about the stress in life, instead, making you realise the fun and adventures in the world.
You went from wearing a frown to wearing a smile every second of the day.
You were so happy with living like you were back in high school to the fact you purposely went out of your way to make it as fun as possible.
I wanna find you in a crowd just to hide from you
Leah had just played her first match in nine months against Reading and had managed to bag an assist, which made your heart swell with pride.
To make the match even more memorable for you and leah, you'd purchased a cardboard cut out of Leah's face.
After the final whistle blew, Leah was the first one you searched for throughout the crowd of players on the pitch.
When you clocked her, you noticed the confused look on her face as she searched the crowd for you.
As soon as you took the mask off, a smile appeared on her face as climbed over the railing to get to you.
You enveloped her in a bone crushing hug before grabbing the back of her neck, pressing your lips on hers.
"I'm so proud of you, Le." You whispered repeatedly in her ear.
"It's all because of you, baby. I couldn't have done it if it wasn't for you."
and I'm high from smoking your jokes all damn night
"I had to do this interview with the little girl I was on about and she asked if I had a joke and only one came to my head. Why was cinderella bad at football?" Because she ran away from the ball." Leah told you over FaceTime and you let out a small giggle, finding the joke genuinely funny. "I love your laugh."
"You make me laugh and you like it. Good combo, that is."
"We are a good combo, aren't we?" Leah asked and you agreed, a small laugh escaping past your lips.
"Tell me more jokes." You suggested and Leah agreed, telling you every joke she knew.
Leah didn't care how many jokes she told that night, the jokes made you laugh and that's all that mattered.
I'm watching American pie with you on a Saturday night, your friends are around so be quiet, I'm trying to stifle my sighs
It was Leah's turn to host team bonding but messing up the dates for your movie night with her, meant Leah had you knock on her door with a confused look on your face.
“What’s with all the cars? Throwing a party without me?” You joked as Leah stood there with an even more confused expression.
“Baby, what are you doing here? Not that I don’t want you here, it’s just I thought our movie night was tomorrow.” Leah pointed out, quickly pulling you in for a hug and kiss.
“Oh, I thought it was tonight. Maybe I got the days wrong. Sorry.”
“Don’t say sorry, love. It was me who got the days wrong. I remember talking about it being tonight. I’ve got team bonding tonight. We’re just about to find a movie to watch. Come, it’ll be fun, and it means I get cuddles. The team love you anyway.” Leah got excited and guided you inside. “Guess who decided to surprise us.” Leah announced to the whole Arsenal squad.
“Guess who got her days mixed up.” You teased Leah whose cheeks turned a red colour.
The girls all said hello to you as you took a seat next to Leah at the back corner of the living room.
After about half an hour of arguing over what movie you were going to watch, you all agreed on American Pie, some of the girls not watching it before, and some of them loving the film.
At the beginning of the film, Leah rested her hand on your lower thigh but as the film continued, Leah’s hand got higher and higher.
“Leah, stop it.” You warned, moving her hand lower down.
“You can be quiet, can’t you?” Leah murmured against your neck. “They won’t see or hear. Look at them all, they’re too busy watching the film.”
Leah’s fingers slide down into your underwear, her fingers teasingly circling your clit.
“Le, that feels so good.” You whisper into her neck.
You looked up to double check that nobody was watching and luckily, no one was.
Leah then dips her fingers into your pussy, making you let out a muffled moan into her neck.
It was only quiet because you stopped yourself but you made sure to not move your head from Leah’s neck.
“Faster, le. Please.” You muttered, her slow pace torturing you.
Leah listened, speeding up her movements.
“Fuck.” You whispered, a sigh leaving your mouth.
As your orgasm approached, your moans and sighs began to get pushed so Leah came up with another plan.
“Kiss me, baby.” Leah muttered, your lips colliding as she swallowed your moans.
Leah started curling her fingers as they entered you, bringing you closer and closer to your high.
“‘m gonna cum. Please don’t stop, le.” You begged, breaking the kiss before Leah brought you in for another.
After swallowing all your orgasmic moans, leah pulled away, grinning at you.
You caught your breath before showing an identical one back.
Once more, you looked around the room to see that everyone was oblivious to the fact Leah had just given you an orgasm.
“We should do that again sometime.” Leah suggested and you nodded.
Are you gonna marry, kiss, or kill me?, It's just a game, but really
Leah had been sat down to do a TikTok for the England TikTok page.
The media team explained that she was going to do a few filters, not a lot, but enough for the fans to be content.
One of the filters happened to be kill, kiss, marry.
Leah smiled to herself, knowing that she hadn’t played the game since she was in high school.
Pressing the record button, the filter started and she was given three celebrities.
Taylor Swift, Britney Spears and Y/N Y/L/N.
“This is easy this is.” Leah laughed, not even having to think about her options.
You and Leah and announced your relationship quite early on.
Well, you hadn’t officially announced it.
When you started attending Arsenal matches with Leah, and Leah started attending your shows, fans assumed you were either friends or there was possibly something between you both.
It wasn’t until you won a Grammy for best album, that Leah was so proud, she planted a kiss on your lips before you went up to collect it.
Since then, the fans had guessed you were a couple.
“I’m gonna go, kill, Britney Spears. Kiss, Taylor Swift. Marry, Y/N.” Leah said, looking past the camera to see Kiera laughing.
“She might as well be married to Y/N. So loved up them two are.” Kiera joked and they both laughed.
Get my car door, isn't that sweet? Then pull me to the backseat
“Thank you for tonight, baby. I really needed a break.” You said to Leah as you walked out the restaurant.
With all the songwriting and studying for your final exam, Leah thought it would be nice to take you out for dinner.
Due to the popularity you both had, it was hard to find a place to go when people would constantly swarm you, however, one restaurant quite close to Leah’s house, had a separate room that was used for private events but they allowed you to use it.
“You deserve a break, love. You’ve been working so hard on your songs and your exams. I think I should take your mind off it all.” Leah sent you a playful smirk as she opened the back seat car door.
Leah helped you onto the back seats before climbing over you.
Within seconds, Leah’s lips were on yours and you were both scrambling to take your clothes off.
Breaking the kiss, Leah’s lips travelled down your jaw and into your neck, soothing sensitive hickeys from the night before.
“Fuck, I can’t believe you’re mine.” Leah told you, pressing kisses to your neck.
“I’m all yours, le. No one ever had me, not like you.”
You know how to ball, I know Aristotle
“I don’t understand this. I mean I do, but then I try the equation and sometimes it works and sometimes it doesn’t.” You explain to Leah who rubbed your back comfortingly.
“You’ll do it, baby. Stop stressing. Come on, talk me through it and I’ll try see where you’re going wrong.” Leah suggested, taking a seat next to you.
“Le, you’re kidding. You know how to ball, I know Aristotle. Not the other way round. I mean you’re clever, baby, but I think you’ll freak when you see the equation.” You slightly giggled at Leah’s confidence, but she had that cocky look on her face so you allowed her to look at it.
“Okay, maybe you’re right.” Leah admitted once you turned the textbook to her, a full page on the equation. “I’ll stick to football.”
“Good choice, baby.”
Touch me while your bros play Grand Theft Auto
Leah was sat playing FIFA with Georgia, Kiera and Lucy whilst you were laid on the bed, next to Leah.
They had been playing all evening and now into the night, which annoyed you, because Leah had said you’d be doing something else.
“Le, how long until it’s finished?” You questioned, getting impatient.
It didn’t help that Leah had mentioned it multiple times throughout the day so it had been on your mind all day.
“Not long, love. I promise — Kiera, defend. We’re going more defensive.” Leah says, talking to Kiera through her mic, before pressing button after button on the remote.
“Le, please hurry up.” You whined, impatiently, as Leah looked at you with a saddened look.
“Baby, I promise, as soon as it’s finished. Five minutes left.” Leah told you, but you wanted her now, not in five minutes.
You moved from your original place to straddle Leah’s lap.
Leah’s eyes grew at your plan and although you thought she would continue the game, she pulled her headset off, muting herself before pulling you down into a kiss.
You could faintly hear Kiera, G, and Lucy asking where she’d gone, but you were so focused on Leah and what she was going to do, that you couldn’t hear them.
The kiss turned desperate and before long, the both of you were desperately ripping each other’s clothes off.
Leah connected her mouth to your hardened nipple, swirling her tongue around it.
Your hips bucked at the feeling, as you entangled your hand in Leah’s hair.
“Feels good.” You mumbled in pleasure before Leah moved onto your other one.
As Leah continued to suck hickeys on your body, her fingers made their way down to your pussy, gently circling your clit.
“Fuck, Le.” You breathed out, the pleasure you’d been waiting all day for, finally feeling evident.
“All mine.” Leah mumbled into your neck, her tongue moving over a fresh mark that she’d left.
“All yours.” You repeated as Leah’s finger made their way inside you.
“My girl. Only I get to touch you like this. No one else.” Leah stated, her fingers thrusting in and out of you.
“I’m close, Leah. Fuck, you’re gonna make me cum.”
“Cum for me, love. Cum on my fingers.” Leah whispered in your ear as you clenched around her fingers, a moan leaving your lips along with a chant of Leah’s name.
“I love you so much.” You told Leah after you’d calmed down.
“I love you too.”
“I feel like I’m in high school after that.” You laughed and Leah agreed as you both looked at the TV to find Kiera, Lucy and Georgia all still playing fifa. “I feel so… high school every time I look at you.”
#woso#woso community#woso x reader#woso imagine#womens football#woso fanfics#woso smut#leah williamson#leah williamson x reader#leah williamson smut
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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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there’s a video going around fb rn of a popular tiktok dog person saying liking dogs and knowing a lot about dogs, esp purebreds, has ruined dogs bc she can’t just see a cute dog anymore she thinks about all the little faults and possible medical conditions, etc
and I just gotta say
let it go my man
if it’s interfering with your life so much that you can’t enjoy a dog just for being a dog, even if they’re conformationally bad, a designer breed, BYB, etc. its unhealthy. if you can’t just be happy for your coworker and coo over cute puppy pics bc the puppy is a mixed breed and have to leave a group chat so you don’t say anything… that’s fuckin’ unhealthy.
get some therapy so you can enjoy something that used to bring you joy again
#I’m not one to start shit on fb and I don’t wanna argue about it#so I’ll just rant here instead#I have long unfollowed this person bc of virulent doodle hate from her and her followers#but her face is popping up all over fb rn and it’s driving me nuts
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boston pride is today so here have an edited repost from when i walked in the parade last year
Steve is getting boring in his old age (forty-four, almost).
It was inevitable, he supposes when he looks back, and he likes being boring.
He likes the steady routine of the life he and Eddie (married for seven years, now) have built with their three daughters (four, seven, and nearly ten, a notion Steve is choosing to ignore because there’s no goddamn way Moe nearly has an entire decade under her belt already), and he doesn’t find himself making attempts to mix things up all that often.
Naturally, Eddie is the one to suggest they make the trip into Boston with their daughters for the annual Pride parade, and when he does, Steve isn’t automatically inclined to agree.
Look – Steve knows it’s important for kids to see the world and do new things and all that enriching shit, but maybe he still bears some of the scars from keeping a semi-feral pack of teenagers alive amidst the eldritch hellscape of their hometown, and it’s not like they don’t keep themselves entertained at home – Hazel had finally got the gist of Go-Fish not too long ago and that’s been a whole new ballgame Steve is perfectly content to continue exploring.
In the end, however, the logical side of him (and Eddie’s ever-persistent badgering) wins out, and come mid-June of 2011, they all make the drive into Boston to see the parade.
It doesn’t take Steve long at all to acknowledge that it was a good idea. He hadn’t been to Pride in many years (again – he’s boring in his old age), and he’d forgotten how much fun it is – a true celebration of love and happiness in the face of a lot of fucked up shit and all that. The parade’s pretty good too (definitely a few floats he hopes the girls are too distracted chasing after candy to notice and ask questions about later, but only time will tell), and so is the festival afterwards. It ends up being a really great time for all of them.
Of the whole day, though, Steve’s favorite part is the trip home, a drive that should have only been thirty minutes, but turns into nearly two hours with all the traffic on I-90.
The girls are still riding the sugar rush of an afternoon’s worth of lemonade and fried dough and candy thrown from parade floats (Hazel might be succumbing though, if Steve’s quick glances in the rear-view mirror at the way her eyes are drooping closed are anything to go off of), and it seems as if the day’s contagious joy had followed them into the car. Robbie and Moe have been asking a lot of questions – mostly chatter about what floats were everyone’s favorites and who got the best face paint until Moe, perceptive as she’s always been, hits them with, “What’s Pride for?”
Which turns into, “Why do people think it’s a bad thing?” and that becomes, “So how did you and Papa fall in love?” at which point Eddie, who’d been fielding their daughters' questions so Steve could keep his focus on the stop-and-go highway traffic, launches into a dramatic and involved retelling of how their relationship had begun nearly eighteen years ago.
“So I told him that I liked him and what do you think Papa said?” Eddie eventually asks as he approaches the end of the story.
“What?” the girls ask with eager smiles and wide eyes.
“Nothing,” Eddie says ruthlessly, a wicked grin on his face.
“Alright,” Steve cuts in over the laughter coming from the backseat, “Let’s not be dramatic. I said something...eventually, and it wasn’t even that long later – four hours tops.”
“That’s right,” Eddie concedes, “And then we all lived happily ever after and all that jazz.”
“Good,” Robbie says, “’Cos if you hadn’t, today wouldn’t happen.”
“Hate to break it to you, sweet pea,” Steve replies, “but I’m pretty sure Pride would still happen even if Dad and I weren’t there for it.”
“We wouldn’t be here," Moe corrects him, "All together.”
Steve blinks.
Jesus Christ, these kids are gonna be the death of him. Can’t drive the damn car if his eyes are misting over, can he?
“Yeah,” Eddie says as he reaches over to curve his hand around the back of Steve’s neck, “Yeah, bug, that’s true.”
And thanks goodness for that.
#it's a very sweet moment and then robbie hits them with “so am i gay because you're gay?”#and eddie has to be like “uhhhh no it's not like genetic or whatever”#eddie: also......you're adopted so that's not relevant either#and then they have to explain to hazel what being adopted means (again) and she cries about it (again)#liv's steddie dads verse#steddie#steddie dads#steve harrington#eddie munson
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“I’m shitting my pants” mark says to his best friend. they were currently standing outside of the music classroom awaiting the final class where they’ll have to present the project each group was working on
“really? you’ve never been one to stress over music class I’m sure you won’t fuck up” haechan replies chewing on the cherry-flavored gum he got handed during his last class
“no dude I’m talking about y/n. seeing her is *sigh* let’s just go okay?” he says to which haechan nods
“don’t worry you won’t have to talk for now” haechan says entering the class. he then proceeded to sit down next to you while mark sat right behind the both of you
“you ready?” hyuck asks turning to you “no? i don’t know? i’m nervous” you reply. playing in front of people was never your thing. you just hoped to pass this class because this class is not worth retaking the semester.
two groups passed and you only got progressively more anxious, people had practiced. they were ready. while you never practiced with both your partners, none of you did. either having alone practicing sessions or some with hyuck. you don’t know if you’re on the same wavelength, you don’t know how you guys will even sound all together. If you were being honest this was partly your fault. your pride and feelings got in the way. But you also knew that no sessions would’ve been productive had you trained with mark. You knew that you would’ve nitpicked every single thing he would do and would make sure that your pettiness and anger could be felt. So either way this couldn’t have been avoided. You just hoped that whatever terrible outcome was about to be unleashed to the rest of the music class, in just about a minute now, would be enough to get a passing grade.
sitting down, plugging your electric guitar, making eye contact with haechan - the subconsciously assigned new leader of the group seeing as though he was the middle ground in between you and mark- waiting for him to give you the go and then you started playing. And exactly 2 minutes and forty four seconds later, haechan mark and you were done performing 200 in front of your class. Immediately looking up at your professor’s face only to see a wide grin and a pleased head nod directed towards mark. Of course. This was a collective grade. you had mark in your group. how could you even for a second worry about getting a passing grade.
sighing out of relief you sat down next to wonyoung who called you over while you were walking towards your original seat “girl, maybe staying in a group with these two wasn’t such a bad idea after all.. you outshined the rest of the class I’m sad for the people going after you” she says “really? you didn’t think it was messy?” you ask. anyone could tell how uncoordinated you guys were. “not really no, sometimes it sounded like a bit.. i don’t know- like you guys haven’t practiced enough? but i assure you it was barely noticeable” she says as you sigh out of relief again “and by the way you and yujin were craaaaazy i got so hyped up” you say complimenting the both of them while they thank you. being so engrossed into the conversation you almost miss haechan calling you over telling you that you need to regain your seat because “professor said so.”
So after briefly nodding at them, you tiptoed around the classroom to sit next to your friend, once again. “ i lied by the way. the teacher didn’t say shit he’s still in his ‘mark haze’. i just wanted you to sit next to me” haechan says as you laugh at his absurdity. man you were going to miss sharing a class with him.
Some time later all the groups had passed and even though he wasn’t allowed to, the teacher assured every student that they had all passed his class. He really wasn’t allowed to say this but the minute mark asked he told the class. You weren’t complaining tho. Maybe you even understood him a little.
Getting out of the classroom after the teacher dismissed you, you felt yourself engulfed in a hug “are you less stressed out now? I know you worried about getting a passing grade but we did it!!!” haechan said while letting go of you “yea dude! I’m lowkey glad this is over.. I’ll miss sharing a class with you tho” you say back “should we go out to celebrate?” you hear mark say. For a second you genuinely forgot he was there. In your defense, he was standing on the side not making any noise so he was fairly easy to forget about.
You could feel his awkwardness radiating off of him and almost felt bad. In truth you forgave him a long time ago (that’s kind of a lie). You understood how whatever mental headspace he was in was turning him into an asshole and as the patient lenient girl you were, you couldn’t pretend to not understand. But you still decided to milk the anger because you knew you were patient (especially with mark). The way he spoke to you does not deserve your understanding. He needed to practically beg on his knees for you to even crack a smile at him. And you were making sure he understood that.
“I think I’m good actually! you guys go ahead tho” you reply. “cmonnnn, it won’t be fun without you, do you know how long it has been since the three of us hung out together?” haechan says grabbing the sleeve of your shirt throwing himself onto you “i wonder why it’s been so long” you say in a fake pensive state that made haechan laugh and mark scratch the back of his neck out of uneasiness. “well don’t involve me in your business, I didn’t do shit and I just want to hang out with my two friends.. I don’t see why I need to suffer the consequences of this” haechan says slightly laughing “oh right because you texting me about it repeatedly was not you being involved in said business?”you reply “touché. still tho, please?” haechan says (he then proceeds to threaten you, then almost gets on his knees to beg, so you agree)
after what felt like the most awkward lunch ever you guys stepped out of the restaurant in silence. not for long tho….cause yk….haechan. “I’ll get going guys, have fun” haechan says aggresively winking at mark trying to be discreet. you could see the whole thing but whatever. “I’ll get going too. bye!!” you say and before you could even turn around to leave haechan desperately yelled “NO- wait. i mean. mark wanted to say something i think” hyuck says still winking at mark but now pointing to the both of you with his chin trying to convey a message to mark that he seemingly did not get
“huh?? oh OH! yes i was gonna ask if we could talk?” mark asks you “nah, im good. bye!!” you say turning around and walking away soon after you heard someone run after you and grab your arm “wait. look, I know what he did was shitty and I know he doesn’t deserve your understanding but please hear him out? Like you guys were so close before don’t you think the friendship is worth salvaging?” haechan says still holding onto your arm “hyuck i sigh i don’t know okay? would it not be pathetic of me to hear him out when he shut me down so harshly last time i tried to communicate?” you ask. no matter how much you liked the man you needed to set standards up for yourself, you deserved respect. How are people meant to respect you if you don’t respect yourself? “i get that. truly. but please hear him out? you literally won’t ever have to face him afterwards” hyuck says while you nod and walk back to where mark was standing.
“should we go to my place to talk?” you say. you weren’t going to have this conversation in public that is for sure “my place is right there. it would save us the walk i guess but we can also go to yours if you prefer” mark says to which you shake your head telling him his place was fine.
Entering mark’s studio for the first time, the place really suited him. From the few art piece he used to decorate his wall to his keyboard in the corner of his room right next to his messy desk and even messier bed, hell even the dishes were mark coded.
“man I’m sorry, I forgot i hadn’t cleaned…. we should’ve gone to your place this is not how you visiting my studio for the first time was supposed to go” he says and you shake your head. he guided you to his small couch in his living room. as you sat down you saw in the corner of the room this pretty bouquet of lilies, man what bitch did he have over?? you knew damn well mark doesn’t buy flowers for himself so those were a gift. You guessed it wasn’t from any of his friends because they would never. These had to be from yunjin. The moment you realized it, you swore you built up a little more resentment.
“I’m sorry.” mark says handing you a glass of water; he was gonna go straight into it i guess. “i know. you’ve been saying that for the past week. I’m just here because I want to know why” you reply. “I- okay fine. I owe it to you, just, please don’t make fun of me okay?” mark says fidgeting with his fingers as you nod. “Things were going really great and I really enjoyed spending time with you and getting to know you and texting you and stuff and so because i liked you- too much I think, I had this huge slap of reality in the face like man okay this is going great but you’re going to fuck it up and then she’ll find you weird and never talk to you ever again and then you’ll be miserable because you’re such a loser. So it became a lot and I got anxious and I was like ‘I’m not gonna fuck it up if I speak less’ and that speaking less… well… it turned into me ghosting you. Then I realized and I felt guilty but I couldn’t just talk to you normally after ghosting you for days and then you sent me the texts and I was so frustrated at myself so I took it out on you. And i felt bad like I knew what I was doing was wrong but I was just in too deep and then donghyuck texted me and I was also mean but anyway. I’m not trying to make excuses for myself I just want to explain everything to you. I’m really really sorry tho” mark says not having enough courage to look at you.
“you like me?” you say. You admit everything he said after was kind of a blur “no i mean yea but I ugh I didn’t want to tell you like this or at all man I’m so sorry I’m so stupid” mark replies clearly frustrated. “ you can’t do this to me mark” you reply “I know I’m sorry I didn’t mean for it to come out I’m sorry” he says “this is fucked man, you flirt with me, ghost me and all of that because you like me??” you say to mark as he nods you burst out laughing. mark is very confused tho. “I feel…so conflicted right now man I can’t tell if I want to kiss you or punch you in the face. Was it not obvious I liked you?? If you liked me that bad couldn’t you have just confessed?? man you had me stressed for weeks im” you say laughing because what the fuck man
“you like me?” mark asks “yes. man I’ve been liking you for so long this is so ridiculous.. I used to have a hallway crush on you that’s why I stared at you during the first music class… and then when we became closer I started liking you… like deadass. when you replied to chenle ‘ew’ I wanted to kill myself” you say as mark gasps “THAT’S WHY?? I genuinely believed your lie woah.. also man I wanted to kill chenle because shut up like mind your business don’t air mine out on twitter like this” mark replies laughing. “what about yunjin tho?” you ask “what about her?” he says. “well isn’t there some sort of thing going on between you and her?? the bouquet right there screams everything but platonic” you reply “what?? no I don’t like her I like you. matter of fact the bouquet is for you I was going to give it to you after music class but pussied out and left it home before since I wasn’t sure if you hated me or not” mark says getting up to fetch the bouquet for you. “oh. thanks. they’re really pretty. They’re my favorite flowers did you know?? Also I can’t believe you like me.. that’s crazy. I’m still pissed at you lowkey” you say. “Yea we talked about it when you gave me my bouquet.. also you really didn’t know? I mean who do you think 200 is about? I thought you would get it” he says laughing. you hit him (not harshly of course) because how dare he imply that you’re slow??
“despite you being mad at me… will you let me be your boyfriend? I’ll beg if I have to” mark asks “i guess… you’ll have to do some serious groveling tho… I don’t want my friends to know I forgave you so easily” you reply “man you’re harsh.. I guess?? be a little more enthusiastic you have a boyfriend now. also yea your friends are scary, especially renjun I got so startled like… this is not the renjun I met” your boyfriend says laughing. “I’M HARSH???? sorry I didn’t want to jump up and down, i already know I’m dramatic don’t want to hear it again” you reply to which mark says touché.
“Can I kiss you?” your boyfriend asks “of course you’d be a dork about it” you reply laughing at him. he quickly shut you up. You were partly shocked because one, you were kissing the man you’re extremely down bad for and two, you didn’t think he had it in him to shut you up with a kiss. Feeling his smile against your lips he pulled away “didn’t think I’d do that did you?” he asked. you didn’t have the words so you shook your head no. What the fuck happened to dorcus lee? And before you could remove his hand that had been grabbing your chin, mark leaned in again to steal another kiss. you swore you felt lightheaded. Not enough to let him away with it tho. So you put each one of your arms around his shoulders, leaned closer and deepened the kiss.
And maybe, just maybe you guys ended up kissing for a while afterward….only maybe though!!
51. it's over
previous chapter masterlist
notes: guys... this is officially the end of an era... I'm literally so sad to see it go I'll miss uploading sooooooo much. I want to sincerely thank everyone who took the time to read this story and even more if you took the time to interact with it. I hope the end is satisfactory enough for you guys and I hope that you enjoyed the ride as much as I did. Thank you again, this has been nothing but fun!! I'll miss down bad very much! happy read!!!!!!
taglist: @imsiriuslyreal @iscocohere @simpforarmihn @replayenthusiast @lovm4rk @youreintheclubb @polarisjisung @sour-chaos @jising-jisang-jisung @aerivrs @multifandomania @tiddygang2020 @roseangelxfuma @skepvids @morkiee @yangasm @artstaeh @pussyslayerhd @bacons-thighs @bugcattie @leefullsun @jkslvsnella @alethea-moon @marvelahsobx @haechansbbg @katsukis1wife @m1dn1ghtv1olet @winuvs @n0hyuck @whats-my-question @dojaejunging @hibernatinghamster @user7520 @starwonb1n @lostinneocity @miniature-tragedy @llearlert @haezyhyuck @inosfavgf @bluesinfinities @calumsfringe @cigarettesafterjae @defzcl @delfdiary @minkyuncutie @bunnyjaycheoluwu @sofix-hc7 @nosungluv @anonymousmuffinbear @the-swageyama-tobiyolo @amrqxz @luvtyunn @haenahc @slayhaechan @yutterfly @tywritesstuff
#mark lee#nct mark#mark smau#mark lee smau#mark x reader#mark x y/n#mark x you#mark texts#nct dream#nct smau#nct dream smau#renjun#jeno#haechan#jaemin#chenle#jisung#nct#nct dream texts#down bad#hyuckswoman#nct x y/n#nct x you#nct x reader#nct texts
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teasing (anakin x reader) + twt prn link
A/N; it’s so fucking late but I needed to post this asap. Sorry if it's bad or I forget any tags.
Warnings; Dark content, Anakin is very mean, size kink, afab reader, pussy slapping, fingering, dubcon, female reader, recording/sextape, Anakin calls readers pussy she, teasing, name-calling, threats to leak videos.
Link
You had been testing Anakin’s patience all day. The relentless teasing words and touches that lasted just a little too long had him wanting to ravage you right then and there but, he had self-control.
At least that’s what he thought. He could tolerate the teasing but one thing he wouldn’t stand for was the flirting.
The blatant flirting with his friends right in front of him really sent him over the edge, he knew he would make you regret it the moment you two were alone.
The minute the door shut behind him you knew your fate was sealed. He wasted zero time throwing your smaller body over his shoulder and taking you straight to the bedroom before slamming you into the plush bed face down. He immediately ripped the material of your thin stockings and pushed your pleated mini skirt up exposing your bare cunt.
Unbeknownst to you, your boyfriend knew exactly how he was going to teach you a lesson. Only HE knew how to put you in your place.
You stayed put, face down on the bed and the bedroom was eerily silent except for some soft rustling followed by a small ring.
It sounded so vaguely familiar, but it was something you couldn’t identify for a moment until it hit you all at once.
He was fucking recording.
You could feel his looming presence behind you before he immediately ripped the material of your thin stockings and pushed your pleated mini skirt up exposing your bare cunt.
“You wanna be a bad girl all day,” He mutters under his breath while kneading the fat of your ass in front of the camera. “N-no Ani. I’m sorry.” You squeak while he continues to manhandle your most sensitive parts.
The cold air in the room made contact with your pussy. It definitely didn’t help.
Whenever your boyfriend would spread you too wide and your sensitive pussy would involuntarily spread you felt the embarrassment.
Knowing the camera was capturing every single detail made you involuntarily clench your thighs together. You felt like a cheap whore on display for all to see.
“It’s too late for that, you’ve been such a fucking tease all day.” He groans looking at your small hole clench around nothing, desperate to be filled with something, anything.
“She’s so fucking pretty.” He says looking at your cunt in the camera before his strong hand makes contact with the soft flesh of your ass. “Aniii- Please no, I said sorryyyy-” You can't even form your next thought before his hand strikes you once more. And once more, again, again, and again.
“No? You don’t want this? You’re sorry?” He parrots your needy words in a higher pitch while continuing to tease you on camera for the world to see. “I don’t think you’re sorry baby.” The last loud smack makes contact with your reddening skin before he gives your pussy a rub with the tips of his thick fingers. “Fuck, you’re dripping Doll. I think you like this and you don’t want me to stop. I think you like being filmed. It makes you so wet. See?”
The tips of his fingers rub up and down your soaking slit, spreading your sweet wetness around your puffy folds and occasionally making contact with your sensitive clit. “You’re so meannnnn.” You whine desperate for any more friction or contact with your sensitive nub.
You were desperate for anything. Anakin watched as your small hole clenched around nothing. He knew he was being cruel, but he didn’t care.
He knew he could easily reduce you to a crying mess just by dipping his fingers in. You were always so sensitive and delicate just for him. He could make you cry and squirt without even trying as he had many times before.
The feeling your desperate moans and whines gave him was something otherworldly. He knew you deserved to be punished but he couldn’t help himself.
The feeling of his thick fingers finally making contact and dipping into the warm heat of your pussy made you drool. “Such a slut, you’re fucking dripping everywhere. I thought you didn’t want this hm?” The end of his sentence was punctuated with a harsh slap to your wet cunt. “You clearly do, so sit pretty and let me do whatever I want, okay?” Before you could protest his weight shifts off of your shared bed.
You heard the familiar sound of a zipper and the drop of pants before you felt his larger frame behind you, aligning himself with your slick entrance. “Stay still for me, yeah?” Anakin says, grabbing the base of his cock and giving it a few experimental strokes before sliding his pre cum covered tip up and down your puffy folds. “Be gentle please Ani.” You beg, knowing his large size always made your eyes water no matter how many times you’ve done it with him.
But the sudden sensation of being split in half overwhelms your senses.
“Don’t fucking tell me what to do.” He snarls before forcing half of his cock into your wet heat. “Ani! Fuck I can’t!” You cry out grasping at the sheets desperate for purchase.
He gave you no time to adjust to his big length causing a dull ache in your lower half. “Yes, you fucking can,” He taunted, digging his fingernails into your hips while biting his lip.
“You’re saying you can’t but you’re clenching so much around me and I’m not even all the way in yet. Giving the camera such a fucking show,” He moans before forcing the rest of his thick length inside your abused pussy.
“Fuck, always so tight for me.” He feels like he could cum in just a few thrusts with the way your cunt gripped him like a vice. “‘M so full,'” You whine at the feeling of being filled to the brim. Full of Anakin, raw.
His hips begin to move, slowly at first. “Fuck, I love this fucking pussy. All mine too, isn’t that right baby?” He asked. You could feel Anakin’s spongey tip kiss your cervix over and over again while he waited for your response. “Yes! Fuck!” You cried out when his thrusts began to speed up when you took a little too long to answer him. “All yours Ani! I’m sorry!” You cry into the pillow desperate to hide your moans.
“The stupid slut is sorry now huh?” The sound of skin slapping on skin echoed on the walls of your shared bedroom while he abused your poor cunt. “Yeah? You’re fucking sorry? Apologize. Let them hear you.” His words were dripping with anger. He wanted you to be sorry. To cry and beg on camera. He wanted nothing else but to make a moaning drooling mess out of you. “They can’t hear you with your face buried in that fucking pillow now can they?” He spits, grabbing your hair from the roots and pulling your face out of the plush pillow.
“No! I’m sorry! I’m sorry for being a slut! I’m sorry I’m Ani’s! I’m only his!” Your words were slurring and you swear you could see stars when he hit that bundle of nerves over and over again with his fat tip. “That's what I like to hear. That’s right baby, tell them.” He leaned forward and licked the shell of your ear.
“You’re being such a good girl.” He whispered in your ear while not once slowing down. “Let this be a lesson. Whenever you even fucking think about disobeying me think about this.” He hisses while biting your ear.
“I love you so much,” You could tell your boyfriend was getting closer. His thrusts became sloppier with each passing second.
“Fuck, I love you so so much.” His tone was needy and his hands gripped and groped all over your soft body desperate to feel anything. “I’m gonna cum.” He whines before getting one last deep thrust in. “Cumming inside you.”
The feeling of his long-awaited orgasm washed over him. He felt so weightless. You could feel his weight on your back while his labored breath tickled your shoulder. A thin layer of sweat covered you two while he slowly pulled out his softening cock. Thick globs began to spill out of your abused cunt before your boyfriend’s sweaty body was lifted off of yours.
“Should I send this video out now baby?”
#anakin#anakin fanfiction#anakin imagine#anakin skywalker#anakin smut#anakin x reader#anakin x y/n#hayden christensen#anakin x you#star wars x reader#star wars#star wars anakin#star wars x you#star wars x y/n#star wars prequels#vader#darth vader#darth vader x reader#darth vader x you#darth vader x y/n#hayden christensen x reader#hayden christensen x you#hayden christensen x female reader#x reader#star wars x oc#twt links
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I lean against the window in order to steady myself, force myself to look away from Asher and focus on Kiyoshi, and try with everything I have to keep my expression calm as my heart pounds in my chest.
It’s a quick meeting, ten minutes at most, but it feels like it drags on for hours before he finally dismisses us.
I curse myself for always standing in the back as I wait for everyone else to walk slowly out the doors. Though, it ends up being for the best because no one notices when I break off from the group and race toward the bathroom.
I burst through the door, lock it behind me, and run to the sink. I turn on the cold water and splash it onto my face, shocking my system, then grab a towel and cover my eyes.
I breathe into the darkness and focus on the monotonous hum of the fan above me. Slowly, I feel my heart rate return to normal, my muscles relax, and the world around me becomes solid again.
I splash my face once more, and as I’m patting it dry, a small laugh escapes me. The whole thing is absurd, isn’t it? It was just a dream. I’ve known Lex for almost three years, and Asher is her best friend. How do I know this? Because certainly she’s talked about him before, and I’ve probably seen photos too.
So, I dreamt about him, so what? Sure, it’s weird and random, but aren’t most dreams weird and random?
I shake my head, feeling a bit ridiculous as I leave the bathroom.
Before I sit at my desk, I pick up my mug and decide to try again to fill it.
As I turn the corner to the kitchenette for the second time that morning, I see him, standing there at the coffee machine with his back to me. I hesitate, tempted to give up and walk away, but my feet step forward, almost of their own accord, and before I know it, I’ve reached the counter.
“Hi,” Asher says with a smile as I approach him. He has such an easy way about him. I watch as he fills his mug and reaches for the sugar packets, sliding to one side to make room for me. He glances up at me and I’m struck with the realization that I didn’t respond to him, and if I don’t say something soon, I’m bound to make things weird.
“Asher, right?” I say, finally.
“That’s right.”
“I thought Evan was supposed to be giving you a tour or something.”
“They abandoned me already; can you believe it?”
“What?” I ask, confused. I can’t imagine Evan doing something like that.
My expression must amuse him because he lets out a laugh. “I’m kidding. They stopped to talk to someone, so I took the opportunity to grab a coffee before they show me around.”
“Oh. You’re funny.” I regret it as soon as I say it, my stomach twisting. It probably came out sarcastic even though I didn’t mean it to. He doesn’t seem to mind though.
“Sometimes,” he says with a smirk. “What’s your name?”
“Atlas.”
“Atlas,” he repeats my name and I like the way he says it. The way he pronounces each letter clearly. I want to hear him say it again.
As if he can hear my thoughts, he says, “Atlas. Yeah, Lex has told me about you.”
“Really? Good or bad?”
“Oh terrible, awful things. She says I should stay away from you.”
I crack a smile, “You’re trying to be funny again, aren’t you?”
“Is it working?”
“Keep at it. You’ll get there.”
“I appreciate the encouragement,” he says with a laugh. And for a brief moment I forget the intense panic I felt only minutes before.
He takes a sip from his mug and grimaces, “Well, Atlas, this coffee is terrible.”
I can’t help but laugh. I don’t mind it, but it’s too bitter for most. Lex used to make me walk with her to a bakery down the street every morning so she could get a giant cup of milk and sugar with a shot or two of espresso mixed in. I will never understand the appeal of that, but they do have good coffee there.
Without thinking I say, “Yeah, it takes some getting used to. But there’s a bakery nearby that has great coffee if you’re interested.” As it comes out of my mouth, I realize it sounds like an invitation, and I’m suddenly aware of how close we are to each other. I don’t know when the space between us shrank, but I find myself fighting the urge to reach out and touch him.
When I look up and meet his eyes, he gives me a smile, “I have to get back to Evan, but I’d love to check it out tomorrow with you.”
The way he adds “with you” at the end causes my cheeks to burn, and before I can talk myself out of it, I say, “Sure.”
The Past 💛 Atlas
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#ts4#ts4 simblr#ts4 story#sims 4 storytellling#sims 4 challenge#starsignchallenge#starsignlegacychallenge#gen1 aries#aries pt4#past#atlas stephens#asher goode
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So I don’t want to worry you. But. A new Life is Strange game is coming. With Max Caulfield. And I’m very worried. Like. The animations changed A LOT. There’s no trace of Chloe anywhere and I’m actually gonna riot if she’s not there. I feel like this is going to be very different from what we wanted/expected. I don’t wanna assume it’s going to be bad but like…Even worse is Max Caulfield looks straight now. Tell me what you guys think because I just watched the trailer and I’m having mixed feelings.
#life is strange#lis#max caulfield#life is strange double exposure#chloe price#deck nine#istg if they ruin max’s story like that..😭
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𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐟𝐞𝐜𝐭 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥 (𝐈𝐈)
pairing: matt rempe x ballerina!reader ; jack hughes x ballerina!reader
summary: you can read part 1 for the context, cause if i write the summary i think i might spoil the whole fic
warning: english is not my native language, mention of cheating, being a single mom. this was written base on my imagination, please don’t take seriously.
a/n: yes i know i know i re-write this to make it better cause the 1st version of it quite not my liking so, hope this version be better
taglist: add yourself here. add to be tag in my next part!!
🎧 francesca by hozier
yourusername
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yourusername Finally I can show off my pretty, healthy baby girl. Meet my little princess Francesca Pearl Y/l/n 💗👑
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user1 aww hi Francesca, i’m Francesca too
user2 She does not said she’s a single mom but I know she is, and that’s made me love her even more
user3 @/jackhughes regret? too bad, too late already :(())
jackhughes with dbareux
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jackhughes Daisy and I are engaged 💗
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user1 Congratz Jack and Daisy, love you both
user2 Damn didn’t know her pussy is that good :))
user3 Omgosh what is this now
user4 tbh I’m so embarrassed when I am both Jack and Daisy fan. After knowing all the things happened to Y/n and her daughter
yourusername
liked by alleyrempe, yourfrienduser and 78,669 others
yourusername First time being back after awhile
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alleyrempe ☀️☀️
user1 How do you feel about Jack getting marry soon
user2 Let me answer it for her, she don’t fucking care and stop asking those stupid ass question
user3 She’s so pretty
nhlwags_andthewag
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nhlwags_andthewag [TODAY WAG] After receiving news that Jack and Daisy were engaged, Y/n officially unfollowed Jack on Instagram after 5 years of following each other on Instagram. Additionally, she followed Matt Rempe, Alley Rempe (Matt's sister) and the New York Rangers this morning, Alley also comment on Y/n post. Is this related to recent rumors made by NYR fans? Leave a comment below if you think the same as me
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user1 I know this is their privacy but I gotta say they’re dating and I think they both are in a serious relationship
user2 Well I mean she’s well known in the NHL so might be friend support friend. Ya know it’s hard to be a single mom such a young age, a supporter is really a need
user3 @/nhl_deuxmoi Can you confirm this??
user4 The easiest thing to confirm is to wait until NJD and NYR are on the same ice next week, I'm a fan of NYR and I know Matt, he looooves a good fight.
mattrempe
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mattrempe Great time in Maine, celebrating Cloe and Connors wedding!!
tagged: alleyrempe
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alleyrempe Brother
user1 Ngl Y/n rumors boyfriend look good af
user2 And he tall too
y/n and matt ig story
#matt rempe imagines#matt rempe smau#matt rempe x y/n#matt rempe x you#matt rempe blurb#matt rempe imagine#matt rempe fluff#matt rempe x reader#matt rempe#dad!matt rempe x reader#dad!matt rempe imagine#dad!matt rempe imagines#dad!matt rempe x y/n#dad!matt rempe x you#dad!matt rempe#jack hughes smau#jack hughes x y/n#jack hughes x you#jack hughes angst#jack hughes blurb#jack hughes fanfic#jack hughes x reader#jack hughes fluff#jack hughes imagine#jack hughes imagines#jack hughes
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Hi! ✌️ Any thoughts about comforting Bucky when he wakes up from a bad dream?
sooo many thoughts!! enjoy this half-drabble / half-rambling thoughts!
“Bucky, baby, it’s okay,” You say, sitting next to Bucky in your disheveled bed. The time showed 2:45am, and the exhaustion on his face was evident.
Bucky not only felt bad about his nightmare, but the fact that you just looked so worried and sleepy too
He felt thankful he'd never hurt you during his post-nightmare haze, you were smart enough to know when he was going to need some space when he woke up
You'd rub his back over his shirt gently, ignoring the feeling of light sweat
Bucky’s breathing was unsteady, but you were going to make sure he calmed down
With some loving words and soft shushing, Bucky would slowly start to shake off the nightmare
“It was happening all over again,” Bucky said, voice gruff yet full of vulnerability. His eyes showed not only his age, but the pure, raw, look of child-like fear. “I just can’t help it.”
“I know, baby, I know. But it’s all over now, I’m here, Sam’s here, Alpine’s here,”
Listing the things that were his helped him regain a sense of grounding, reminding him he was living his own life again
Sometimes, he would dream of specific events. Those nights were harder. Sometimes he would cry, shake, go deathly silent
Even then, you made sure to be his rock. You’d grab Alpine and curl up with him, holding him, or sometimes he would hold you
He'd stroke her fur as he grabbed your hand, intertwining your fingers as his thumb rubbed over your knuckle
“See Buck? Even Alpine says it’s okay,”
“Doll, Alpine’s a cat.”
“So? Cats have feelings too.”
“ ‘Course they do, but I don’t think she told you so.”
“You don’t have any proof.”
After he’d calm down, he liked to make small banter with you
It raised his spirits (plus, it never hurt to see you smile or laugh)
Every now and again, if you couldn’t sleep after, you’d put a record on your record player and play some old fourties’ music, swaying with Bucky until you both felt tired enough
Not only was it calming, but it was very romantic, and something Bucky had always excelled at
The slowness and familiarity of the music helped ground him even more, plus it lulled you both back to sleep
"Feelin' tired, doll?" Bucky asked, watching your eyelids look up at him half-lidded. You were adorable, it made his heart swell.
"Mhmm," You mumbled, leaning your head on his chest. Bucky's strong arms lifted you up, keeping you close to his chest as he carried you both back to bed to get some well deserved rest.
All in all, nightmares with Bucky were never fun, but you two always had each other, and that was comfort enough for Bucky.
#ohmygod i loved this#eee i love bucky#bucky barnes#bucky barnes one shot#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes imagines#winter solider#bucky barnes fluff
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thinking about mom finding a thong that she definitely did not nor would not buy me in the laundry.
she’s furious, marches upstairs. she throws the door open while i’m sprawled out naked on the floor, two fingers deep in my pussy in front of my mirror. we both freak out, although she gains her composure much quicker. “what do you think you’re doing young lady? you’re going to explain to me exactly what you’re hoping comes out of you wearing things like this!” she holds the lingerie up for me to see. i’m so embarrassed, i manage to stutter out: “mom, can’t you see i’m busy?! g-get out.” not good enough, apparently. she grabs my hand, still dripping, and pulls me to my feet.
“while you’re in my house, you don’t make the rules. sit down, and tell me why you have these.” i shuffle over to my bed and sit down, trying to grab a pair of pants or a shirt or anything to cover myself. mom sees and snaps at me “okay, so you’re too good for clothes around strangers, but you’re embarrassed around me? give me a break. stop. tell me about these already.”
she isn’t taking no for an answer. “i, I thought they looked cute, no other reason!” her demeanor changes. she’s no longer as stern-looking. she’s almost…inquisitive? “hm, well i’ll be the judge of that. here. put them on.” “wh-what?” “you heard me. show me what they look like on you.” i hesitantly take the pair of panties from her, slide them on. god, they barely cover anything, she’s gonna kill me.
“i think you have a point. they do look really good on you. but you definitely shouldn’t be wearing them out. clearly, all you’re thinking about is sex. so here’s what’s going to happen”
i watch in shock as she stands up, unbuttons her jeans, and pulls her cock out, pulling a string of precum away
“um, uh-“ is the only thing i can manage to get out. i should be disgusted, but between being interrupted while i was touching myself, and the way her curves enrapture me, the only other reaction i have is to stare
“what, baby? this is what you wanted, isn’t it? to be fucked in a thong? lay down on the bed.”
i honestly cannot believe what’s happening. i don’t know how to react
“do what i say!”, she snaps . “you’ve been so aloof, it’s time i reminded you who’s in charge” as taken aback as i am, i don’t know what other choice i have
i do as i’m told, and lay down on my back. “that’s a start. now show me what you were doing before i came in” i hesitate for a moment, and then start to rub my clit through the lingerie. god, it feels so good.
“good girl, just like that.” my eyes follow her as she pulls off her jeans and panties, and then grabs my thighs to pull me closer to her dripping cock.
“are you wet for mommy? hm, you want mommy’s cock?” almost instinctually, i let out a breathy “yesss”
she pulls the thong to the side, once again revealing what she definitely shouldn’t be anywhere near. i don’t care anymore. i want it
her tip grazes against my soaked pussy, not quite pushing inside. “tell me how much you want it, honey. it’ll be our little secret.” fuck, she’s so mean. “so, so bad, mommy. please fuck me, i’ll do anything”
she bites her lip and sinks her cock into me, burying as deep as she can, quickly followed by her pulling back and then forward again
“you’re such a good slut for me, aren’t you? god, you’re so fucking wet, i knew you’d do whatever it took to get off” why is she able to read my thoughts like this? “mom, you feel so good, don’t stop.”
she doesn’t. even when i start to orgasm, she only fucks me harder. the ecstasy of my mom making me cum over and over reduces me to tears, moans, and the occasional “fuck fuck fuck fuck”
then i can feel it coming on, the big one. “mom, i’m…gonna cum.” “good girl, that’s what i wanted to hear” she picks up her pace, puts her thumb on my clit “cum for mommy, baby” that pushes me over the edge, i clench a fistful of sheets as a wave of bliss, the best orgasm i’ve ever had washes over me. i barely notice mom moaning louder than before, but then feel her release inside me
the warmth of her cum immediately starts to leak out of me as soon as she pulls out. before i can react to anything that just happened, she’s putting on her clothes.
“wait, mom, don’t you want to hold on a second?” “that was nice, honey, but your sister is coming over and the laundry isn’t done yet. get cleaned up and dressed”
yeah she’s treating me like her personal whore, but i’d be lying if i said i don’t like it
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