#the only way you will find out is if I ever finish it | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

pupyuj · 3 days

Text

→ “ruin our friendship.” || kim gaeul x reader fic.

— for years, gaeul has trusted your heart and tried to find whatever good you saw in your douchebag of a boyfriend, but she has had enough. and now she wants to show you that you deserve so much better...

word count: 6.9k.

dynamic: dom!kim gaeul x sub!taken!reader.

warnings: bffs-to-lovers, cheating, oral, fingering, cunnilingus, facesitting, faceriding, overstimulation, masturbation, praise kink.

requested ? : nope.

a/n: i don't even know how long this has been rotting in my drafts but SHE IS FINALLY FREE! and we have our first gaeul fic AND I HAVE OFFICIALLY WRITTEN A FIC FOR EVERY IVE MEMBER EYAYYYY 🥰💖 now i don't have to worry about possibly looking like i favor one member more than the others omg guys i can assure you i have thoughts about ive unnies all the time, the ones for yujin are just loud as FUCK. much like herself. ANYWAYS, HEHE I HAD A LOT OF FUN WRITING THIS and i hope you all love it 💕

p.s. as usual this is not proofread thoroughly so apologies in advance for any mistakes! 😭💞

ever since entering college, you and your best friend gaeul have had to match your schedules perfectly in order to hang out and even talk regularly. those assignments couldn’t finish themselves after all, as much as you hoped they did. years before, you and her would have the time of your lives shopping and visiting the many different restaurants your vast city offered, but now, everything was different. and in gaeul’s most humble opinion, your busy lives as college students wasn’t the only problem. she could name a few actually! there was her part-time job at her mechanic father’s service shop where she spends most of her time sitting on a chair and listening to middle-aged men try to woo her as they wait for their car to get fixed, and there was your side gig as some small-time coordinator in a pretty popular live house in the downtown part of the city.

but gaeul can’t exactly be angry at your jobs for pulling the two of you away from each other! what she can be angry about was you were always distracted whenever you did go out together. here’s a clear picture: you would be sitting with her in a cute coffee shop after two weeks of not being able to see each other and there gaeul is, talking about the shenanigans that happens in her classes, her dad’s shop, and her life in general. then, she’d find you spacing out, or staring at your phone—just completely ignoring her. for the first few times it happened, gaeul just thought that perhaps you were just worried about your schoolwork!

it made sense after all. you were some kind of academic overachiever that always used to nag at gaeul to finish her geometry homework during your high school days. gaeul was going to be fine with it all; she even thought about things she could tell you to soothe your head but one little peek at your phone screen ruined it all. every ounce of patience in gaeul just disappeared into thin air once she saw that you were distressed because of your stupid boyfriend’s messages.

ugh. your boyfriend.

now, gaeul wasn’t one to shit on her best friend’s lovers just because, okay? ninety-three percent of the time she has a valid reason! here’s the breakdown: your boyfriend is manipulative, abusive, possessive, and ugly. one would say that maybe he wasn’t always that way, or that maybe he’s struggling with things! well, gaeul can confirm that he has always been horrible to you and that whatever the fuck he’s dealing with doesn’t give him the excuse to be such an asshole to someone that genuinely cares for him. gaeul can’t even count how many times you’ve showed up at her doorstep in tears because of him.

she really can’t understand why you’re still dating him. it’s been about five years since the two of you got together and really, the only good thing you got from that relationship is a ride to the campus and if you’re lucky and he actually feels like being a decent boyfriend for once, some fancy clothes. clothes that he picks out for you, and he can’t even get that shit right! he doesn’t know your style, the kind of clothes you want to wear, the brands you’ve always wanted to get clothes from, and in general, you. gaeul knows people like him all too well. people that only want you to fill a very specific void in their miserable life.

gaeul can’t stand him. you deserve so much better, you can do so much better.

and gaeul is better.

just like that, an idea pops up in gaeul’s head as she sits in a booth in her favorite diner, but she didn’t have time to think about it because she looks out the window and there you were in a pretty, pink sundress with your hair arranged in a cute braid adorned with little butterfly clips. gaeul lets out a chuckle—rei, your roommate, must’ve helped you with that. gaeul also notices that you were wearing the sneakers that the two of you bought together so you could match, which warmed her heart. even more so when she remembers that she was wearing her own pair of those sneakers too!

gaeul watched patiently as you entered the diner and greeted the waitress behind the counter like you always do. a bright smile spreads across your face once you find gaeul in your usual booth, and gaeul feels herself flashing her very own grin as you start walking faster towards her.

“hey! sorry, i’m late. i had to change my entire outfit. i didn’t think it would be so warm today.” you said, pulling gaeul into a quick hug before sitting across from her. gosh, you looked beautiful! the baby hairs that stuck to your forehead and the sides of your face only made you look even cuter, gaeul almost wanted to reach out and pinch your cheeks.

“careful. look any prettier and someone might mistake you as my girlfriend.” gaeul quipped. she finds herself grinning proudly as you laugh.

“you look dashing yourself! they probably already think you’re my boyfriend, but you’re not neglecting me for ‘a night with the boys’ so we would get found out quickly.” you sighed. you were clearly disappointed, but you covered it up with another laugh before sipping on the glass of water gaeul kindly ordered for you.

“then today is a date. he probably hasn’t taken you in one for ages, anyway.” gaeul doesn’t know if you’ll actually buy it. she wasn’t even joking! as far as she knows, his version of dates is taking you on a boring ass car ride and spoiling you with useless shit. she knows what you want on dates. she knows what you want in general. let this work.

you giggled, “true. it’s a date then.” and she doesn’t miss the shy smile on your face afterwards.

well! it looks like this was going to be easier than gaeul predicted.

as the two of you ate your lunch, you talked about school and how life has been treating you both. you were thriving for the most part! you were up to date with your coursework, your job hasn’t been too demanding or taxing, and you were able to have enough breathing space in your life to actually meet up with gaeul, like right now! it seems like the only problem in your life was your boyfriend. he hasn’t been spending too much time with you, and one would think it might be because he’s gotten busier but nope, he’s as shitty as gaeul describes him to be. he only wants to hang out with his team and his stupid friends, and he barely talks to you even in text! that asshole.

gaeul didn’t let you dwell on it all though. she absolutely detests seeing you upset. especially over that useless fucker. she distracts you with a few funny shenanigans from working in her dad’s shop, and how she has actually been doing quite well in her classes! it was clearly your influence. hell, if it weren’t for you, gaeul wouldn’t even be in college at all! you gave her direction, and now you were giving her all the motivation she needs to make it through one school day at a time.

fuck, your boyfriend was so lucky. gaeul has to let you see that he wasn’t worth anything you’re giving him. she has to pull you away and make you see that a pretty girl like you needs to feel good!

in more ways than one.

“so, boyfriend, where are we going?” you joked as you settled yourself in the passenger seat of her car. while gaeul started the engine, that was when she put her little scheme in motion.

“bowling. or rather, sending the balls to the gutter for two hours straight.” she said. bowling happens to be your favorite stress reliever, it always has been! gaeul always liked watching you as you played. even when you didn’t hit any of the pins, you still had fun. gaeul was willing to bet that your pathetic boyfriend rarely ever takes you bowling.

“god you’re the best.”

“mhm, i know.”

from then on, gaeul knew it was going to be a breeze. especially when she did get on the road and you just allowed her to put her hand on your thigh. you didn’t even notice at first, occupied with fixing your charming but unruly hair. but then gaeul lightly squeezed your thigh, caressing slowly just to test the waters, and finally, you noticed her. she was afraid that your attitude would change, but it seemed like… you liked what she was doing. and so gaeul’s hand stays in place. she took note of how you squeezed your legs together every time she caresses your skin gently, or how you would sometimes put your hand on top of hers.

the drive to the bowling alley was quiet, save for the music you’ve put on, of course. silence was a rarity between the two of you since there was always something to catch up on, things to complain and whine about, people to talk shit about, and casual conversations that have become needed just to have some sense of normality in your chaotic lives. gaeul was afraid she had made you uncomfortable because come on, she was quite literally trying to take over your boyfriend’s place! joke or not, this was bound to make you just the least bit weirded out!

imagine gaeul’s surprise when she briefly glanced over to your direction and find you looking relaxed. not even the constant buzzing of your phone was able to break your focus on the road. just like that, gaeul doesn’t stop a smile from forming on her face. forget about him.

and it seems like as soon as gaeul parked her car near the bowling alley—you did! you took gaeul’s arm and started gingerly dragging her through the doors, giggling as you did so. it was easy to secure a spot for the two of you, the place wasn’t too busy yet after all.

“two hours of this? you ready to lose, kim?” you said with a mocking smile as you approached the lane. gaeul sat back on the couches behind you, smirking as she very shamelessly checked your backside out unbeknownst to you. there was a small table in the middle of the u-shaped couch that gaeul sat on where you laid down your phone. as you busied yourself making your cute little bowling profile on the monitor near the lane, gaeul glances down at your phone that kept lighting up at it vibrated. your boyfriend was calling you, and he has sent you a dozen or more messages that you still haven’t bothered to look at.

gaeul sneers at the picture of your boyfriend on the screen. he really didn’t deserve you! luckily for him, she will happily take you off his hands. gaeul takes your phone and declines the call, smiling happily when she leaned back on the couch and continued on staring at your beautiful form. you hooked a medium-sized ball with your hand and prepared yourself—sure, you were never the best at the sport but you were to have fun and have fun only! and so you delivered the ball and hit exactly seven pins. gaeul tilts her head a bit to see the look of pure joy on your face and finds herself grinning along with you.

for once, it was not at all a bad start for you! you grabbed the smaller ball and prepared to take down the last three pins at the other end of the lane. upon staring at your near flawless little pose that especially accentuated your ass, gaeul whistles. the sound catches you off-guard and you end up messing up your throw, sending the ball into the gutter in a fit of laughter.

“you little devil.” you said, playfully glaring at your best friend who has stood up and started stretching all of her limbs.

“this is where your short-lived lucky streak ends,” gaeul pats your butt as she approaches the lane. and of course, she didn’t lie. gaeul delivers a ball and hits her first (and certainly not last!) strike. she winked at you while you stared at her, mouth agape at how she didn’t even hesitate to not go easy on you. “cat got your tongue, baby?” your best friend teased.

you don’t even notice the nickname, what with your competitive spirit alive and well. “oh, it is so on, kim gaeul!”

and for the next two hours, you and gaeul had the best time of your life in that bowling alley. the longer the two of you were together and the more you got drunk from pure joy of being with each other, gaeul got bolder. she was touching your waist, your back, and sometimes even rested her hand on your ass for more than a few seconds! you didn’t care—in fact, you were just as bad! grabbing her and pulling her close to whisper things in her ear (partly because the music would have drowned your voice, mostly because you wanted gaeul nearer), allowing her to not-so-discreetly touch you in places a best friend should definitely not, and finally, sitting on her lap, playing with the collar of her shirt and telling her to take you to her home.

exactly zero innocent intent at all, and gaeul was seemingly more than happy to comply!

on the way to gaeul’s apartment, it was noticeably… warm. both of your hearts were beating fast and loud from anticipation. gaeul yearned to feel your skin without the hindrance of your clothes getting in the way. her fingertips itched to feel goosebumps run along your arm, shoulders, and back as she touched you in ways she always dreamed of doing. her lips longed to taste yours since she knew that peach-flavored chapstick you two liked to share would taste so much sweeter if you were the direct source. gaeul wanted you, and she was going to have you—boyfriend be fucking damned.

when gaeul flipped the lock on her door, the two of you were all over each other. bags and jackets thrown to some random corners, shoes messily removed and left all over the living room area. gaeul barely twisted open the doorknob of her bedroom door, being so focused on exploring every crevice of your mouth with her tongue until she tugs you inside her room. her lips stayed locked with yours as she sat on her bed and pulled you to her lap, hiking your dress up and squeezing your ass. your moans were much, much sweeter than she imagined. she shivers at the feeling of your fingers playing with the back of her neck, her own whimpers only encouraging you to busy your hands with unbuttoning her shirt.

when you’ve successfully taken her shirt off, your dress was next. and gaeul made sure to take her sweet time with that! her hands caressed your thighs, gently squeezed your hips and even moved you so you could grind on her thigh (the cute whine she earned from that was very much appreciated!), and then her hands stayed wrapped around your waist as she placed soft kisses along your collarbone. you could feel her smile against your skin when you squeezed at her arms, knowing damn well what you wanted but refusing to give it to you because… well, if this happens to be the only time she fucks you then she might as well make it last!

finally, when gaeul was satisfied with the little marks she had left on your collarbone, she started pulling the ribbon on your back and loosened up your dress. “you made sure to look pretty for me, huh?” she asked as she watched you undress yourself. she took note of the bright blush on your cheeks under her dark stare, and it made her think that perhaps she wasn’t the only one who was thinking of fucking her best friend for the longest time. meanwhile, in your defense, it’s been quite a while since you had to dress yourself up and what better occasion to do that than hanging out with your best friend?

plus, if it got you to get fucked by the friend in question then you’d say that the two-hour preparation was worth it!

when gaeul laid you down on the bed, she noticed how you suddenly became quite tense, looking as though your boyfriend was about to come breaking down gaeul’s doors to drag you back with him. gaeul made sure to relieve you by kissing your forehead, taking your hands with hers and then putting your knuckles to her lips. “you’re safe with me, (y/n).” she whispered, pecking your knuckles gently and smiling at you. sure, it works… but the fear that bubbled up in your stomach did not go away.

“if he finds out about this…” you pull your best friend close, letting her embrace you while you wrap your arms around her neck.

gaeul scoffed arrogantly, “he won’t—”

“—if he does, i don’t know what i’ll do,” you never told gaeul that your boyfriend has been watching out for her for the longest time. he was always suspicious of gaeul, saying that he was so sure that she wanted to fuck you and make you hers. because of his suspicions (that now proved to be true), he always made sure to be annoying and text you and call you an absurd amount of times whenever you were hanging out with gaeul. he never does that when you’re out with your other friends. no. that behavior was reserved for the one person he was threatened by. “i don’t want him to hurt you.” you said. you can’t even imagine what he would do to you, let alone the girl he absolutely detests.

“he’s as dumb as a brick. i could fuck you in his own bathroom and he’d have no idea.” gaeul makes a mental note to reserve that exact scenario in the future.

you couldn’t help but stifle a laugh, “you know he can very much send you to the hospital, right? he’s like, three heads taller than you!”

“three heads yet he’s still stupid enough to treat you horribly and practically give you away to me,” gaeul sneaks her hands behind you, unclasps your bra and pulls it off of you in one swift motion. your heart beats louder every second gaeul’s eyes travel downward, soaking in more and more of your naked beauty that she longed to set her eyes on forever. “i’ll teach him a thing or two about giving a pretty girl the pleasure she deserves.”

every doubt and fear you had evaporates into nothing as soon as gaeul puts her lips against your skin once again. sucking, biting, licking—anything she can do to leave marks and make you remember this night akin to a skilled painter perfecting their masterpiece with every stroke. you feel gaeul’s hand trail down your stomach and palm your soaked panties, and you had an almost automatic reaction to grind against her, blushing wildly upon hearing her chuckle at your enthusiasm. gaeul wraps her warm mouth around your nipple, your back arching at the feeling. an embarrassingly loud moan escapes your mouth when she flicks the hardened bud and presses her palm flat against your clit at the same time.

you were losing further control of your actions. grinding restlessly on gaeul’s hand for further pleasure, taking her free hand to play with your other breast, and even pushing her head impossibly closer to your chest. she was skilled with her tongue—you shuddered at the mere thought of what else she could do to you should this night go on for longer. you feel gaeul slide her hand inside your panties, only to feel your pussy with her fingers rather than fucking you immediately.

it was adorable how impatient you were. you needed and wanted to be pleasured. it must have been quite a while since you’ve gotten some action—gaeul isn’t surprised that even in sex your boyfriend can’t deliver. every flick of your nipple, every pinch to the other one, every parting of your pussy lips, and every brush against your clit, you were mewling. you would be embarrassed if you actually heard yourself but instead, all you could focus on was the little pleasure gaeul was giving you right now.

“that feel good, hon?” gaeul asks as she presses her lower palm against your clit harder than ever. she found your little nods endearing and your inability to find the words to answer her only inflates her ego, but as much as she would love to tease you all day long, she was just as desperate for you as you are for her.

“how long has it been since he’s made you cum?” she asked, slowly pulling your panties off and letting it drop to the floor. gaeul keeps her eyes fixed on you, looking for discomfort or doubt or any sign that tells her how you could be feeling about all of this. while gaeul knows that the two of you have already crossed a point of no return, she knows that if you gave yourself the time to think about all of this, you would come to your senses. in other words, you would get the fuck out of her house and never talk to her again. it would be disheartening, yes, but gaeul unfortunately knows you well enough to know that it would be possible.

to her surprise though, you seemed to have stopped caring now. you didn’t even bother to glance at your phone that was on the floor, vibrating wildly due to the amount of times you were being called by your boyfriend. you only silently beckoned for gaeul to touch you, to taste you, to claim you. and gaeul doesn’t need to be asked twice to oblige!

“he… he has never made me cum.” you admitted, looking away from the embarrassment.

“are you serious?” gaeul laughs, but then her jovial expression is replaced with an incredulous one. “you guys do have sex, right?”

“of course we do! just… h-he’s horrible at it… every time we’re done, i have to get myself off because he never can!” you covered your face in frustration, now just wondering how you actually survived years without being able to cum with your partner during the act.

“fuck, he really is worth nothing at all, huh?” gaeul cackles. ah, poor you… but you didn’t have to worry about not cumming tonight, because gaeul just now made a silent promise that she’ll make you cum as many times as you want. she lowers herself so she could be facing your pussy, all wet and ready just for her. just as gaeul was about to bury her face in between your legs, you take a hold of one of her hands and intertwine it with yours, making her heart swell with affection. she doesn’t look back up at you, knowing that the blush on her cheeks would be too noticeable. gaeul starts off giving your cunt gentle kisses and little licks—hearing you softly whimper and seeing you jolt every time the tip of her tongue so much as brush slightly around your clit gets her adrenaline going, and eventually, gaeul commits herself to eating you out.

within mere minutes of practically making out with your pussy, gael feels you put your free hand behind gaeul’s head and pushes her closer. “more…” you could barely say, too caught up with the euphoric feeling gaeul has instilled in you using her tongue alone. it takes everything in gaeul to let go of your hand to part your lips to have better access to your clit, and when you grabbed a fistful of her hair and let out a beautiful moan, gaeul knew she was doing something right.

something adorable gaeul notices is that you were extremely sensitive when it comes to your clit, more than any woman gaeul has ever been intimate with and even herself. she licks a stripe up your cunt, relishing in your taste and the way you whine her name, before sucking on your clit. it’s almost as if you’ve never had your pussy eaten out this good before! and truthfully, you really haven’t. gaeul’s own satisfied moans created a buzz in your head, letting you know just how much she loved and savored your taste with each lick. she brings a new kind of pleasure when she makes out with your clit at a gentle, slow pace. the kind of pleasure you would never find your boyfriend (or anyone else for that matter) to be giving you.

it almost makes you wonder what gaeul’s true intentions were. of course, you weren’t expecting her to be completely in love with you. if she was, the first thing she would do to show it was not making you cheat on your boyfriend with her. was she just looking for a quick hook-up? but if that was the case, she could have just grabbed some random girl instead of putting your friendship in an awkward spot like this. perhaps you were just another box in a list that she wants to check off, but that would be cruel and completely unlike the gaeul you have known since the two of you were young. with the way she was cautious with how she fucked you, touched you, and even handled you during all of this, you wanted to believe that she has some sort of undiscovered feelings towards you.

but why were you even thinking about that? did you even have feelings for her? that was a dangerous territory you never wanted to explore, not when you cherished your friendship too much. but the ‘idea’ of dating your own best friend was never really just an idea with you. not when gaeul had ten times the charm that makes your boyfriend look like some hopeless wimp. not when gaeul will forever be the person that knows you the best. not when every time she does something as simple as tell you you’re pretty, or open a door for you, or laugh at your jokes, or smile at you so handsomely, the tiniest of butterflies flutter around in your stomach.

it was a scary feeling, one that you always hoped to go away one day but these days, and especially today, it has been hard. maybe when this is over… you don’t have to run away from it anymore, because when you look at gaeul’s eyes that pierced right through yours even as she was eating you out, you can see something beyond the hunger, the lust, and the desperation.

whatever it was, you found yourself more willing to uncover it, even if it might ruin everything.

“you’re so perfect, (y/n)...” gaeul snaps you out of your trance and immediately after, she dips her tongue inside you. “you’re better off with someone else… someone who knows you better, inside and out… mmhn... don’t you agree, princess?”

you whine shamelessly, “y-yes..! ahh… with you…” now you didn’t even mean to let that slip past your lips, but gaeul seems beyond satisfied that you did. completely addicted to your taste, gaeul pulls you closer and further down the bed by your waist, your back arching with how well she was using her mouth. the pleasure gaeul brought was enough to make your thighs twitch, your legs slightly rise in the air, and your eyes to roll to the back of your head.

“you cumming soon, baby…?” gaeul asks, briefly lifting her head slightly from in between your legs. a sly smirk graced her features, knowing that the cause of your incoherence was her. it gives her the confidence to do a lot more to you, to do everything she has been wanting to do for years. you seem to notice how she had paused to stare at you, and you shoved her face back down to your core, earning a chuckle from her. gaeul pushes your thigh back, almost lifting your leg up, for better access and eats you out better than before as if that was even possible.

at this point both of your hands were on her head. you would be worried about the tight grip you had on her hair but you were way too busy on that tight knot in your stomach. you think you hear gaeul encouraging you to cum, and you can vaguely feel her palm resting on your stomach and it does help you relax a bit. enough for you to have the strength to look down at your best friend, whose eyes have always been on you this entire time. god, she was pretty… and she looked like she belonged right where she was. she didn’t give you any more time to admire her though, as a flick of her tongue on your clit sends you to a blissful orgasm.

your body softly falls backwards your bed as you throw your head back with only gaeul’s name filling the air. gaeul spends a good few seconds staring at your face—her doing. you were simply bewitching in her eyes. she made sure to take her time cleaning you up while you came down from your high, waiting patiently until you’ve caught your breath and calmed down. she sees you breathing normally and smiles before rising up, attacking your face with a barrage of kisses while you laugh and take her in your arms.

“don’t get comfortable. this is all we’re doing until morning.” gaeul, more than ready to please you all day and night long, places a wet kiss on your collarbone before sliding her hand in between your legs. she was well on her way down your core until her phone blares loudly—someone was calling her. she ignores the sound, opting to kiss down your neck while her fingers start ghosting over your clit. and just then, you turned your head and got a glimpse of the caller id on the gaeul’s screen. but gaeul sees it first and she swipes her phone away with a dark chuckle.

“w-who is it…?” you asked quietly, not wanting to alert whoever was on the other end. gaeul’s smile grows wider as she puts the caller on speaker. your heart drops to your stomach as soon as you hear the other person’s voice.

a man. your man. your fucking boyfriend!

“are you there, kim?”

sheer panic courses within you. you tried grabbing gaeul’s hand, but she moves away, pressing a single finger against your lip. and then her mouth moves, but she doesn’t make a sound. trust me, she says silently. you kept still, trusting your best friend to not do anything stupid. of course she wouldn’t put you in any danger just to have fun, but you did worry that she would set your boyfriend off enough for him to do something to her. your heart beats loudly in your chest and goosebumps appear all over your skin. you were terrified beyond comprehension, but gaeul’s soft caresses and reassuring eyes comfort you, even just a little bit.

“what do you want?” gaeul asked, annoyed that he just had to interrupt the two of you. her hand once again travels downwards your body until she reaches your cunt. she traces your lips before inserting the smallest length of her two fingers, making you bite back a moan.

“where’s (y/n)? why isn’t she answering her phone?”

gaeul grins and plunges her fingers deep inside you, she couldn’t hold back a quiet laugh as she watched you choke out a moan. you immediately covered your mouth, pitifully glaring at your best friend but not being completely mad at her. her fingers felt too good inside you—staying perfectly still just to get you to get used to the feeling until she starts moving, slow and steady as if she herself was savoring the feeling of your cunt clench around her digits.

“what was that? is that her? are you fucking my girlfriend?!”

gaeul cackles, “you wouldn’t know what (y/n) sounds like when being fucked even if you’re the one fucking her.” she increases her pace, even nodding towards you to get you to relax and just keep trusting her because she could feel your fear. it made her angry. no one should claim to be your partner if they made you feel so afraid of them. you shouldn’t have to beg for them for their time and love either. if gaeul had known that this was what everything from back then would lead up to, then she would’ve intervened when you and your boyfriend were still just acquaintances. but there was no point in dwelling on that because she has the opportunity to make this all right.

and the correct ending to all of this was her freeing you from him, him ending up all alone, and the two of you figuring out what to do with each other.

“you bitch! i swear to god if that’s (y/n)—”

“—i’m not fucking my best friend, shithead. you should start worrying more about the fact that she’s refusing to call your lacking ass back.” gaeul watches you intently as you slowly lose most of yourself to her. moving your hips accordingly, meeting her little thrusts with eagerness that only got gaeul herself drenched. you tugged on gaeul’s top, silently asking her to get off the call already and just fuck you. and that you didn’t have to ask her twice, of course. while your boyfriend kept yelling at her, gaeul ends the call before blissfully dropping her phone to the ground.

you don’t know what came over you, but all of a sudden you wanted to see your best friend under you. tugging her down harder, catching her lips with yours in a searing kiss… feeling sick satisfaction in you when she stiffened at your sudden surge of passion, and using her shock to flip your positions over. gaeul pulls her fingers out, putting them on your hips instead and trying to keep up with the way you kissed her feverishly.

“you’re cute…” gaeul whispers, thoroughly entertained by you. ugh, those eyes. that nose, her perfect moles, her smile, that mouth… fuck. you have to feel her lips on your pussy again but this time… you wanted to be in control. you smile at your best friend as you swipe your thumb across her lips before getting in position.

“holy shit, (y/n)—”

“—shut up, man.” you cut her off with your face so warm you think you might explode. she didn’t look like she was turned off by the idea. in fact, gaeul places her hands on your thighs, looking more excited than she has ever been this entire time. “t-tell me if i’m hurting you… or anything.” you said. gaeul merely nods, eyes focused on your core. you were going to say a few more words, maybe tell her that you haven’t sat on anyone’s face in a while so you might be bad at this but gaeul couldn’t wait another second. she pulls you down, and the sound that escapes your lips when her nose bumps against your clit was simply criminal.

“ffuck…! oh, g-god…!” with one hand tightly gripping the headboard and the other holding onto a random pillow, you start riding gaeul’s face. and again, she was moaning. as if a better flavor has never graced her tongue until she got to taste you. gosh, the way you threw your head back and let every lewd sound fill the air as you rode her got gaeul clenching, but she couldn’t keep her hands off of you either. she squeezed your thighs, almost as if she was encouraging you to go faster and just use her.

“mmhgn… so good… more, please..” letting go of the pillow and the headboard, you put your hands on gaeul’s head. you ride her faster, focused on pleasing yourself and chasing another orgasm while gaeul does her work with her tongue. it was getting harder and harder to hold herself back from touching her own pussy; she was too drenched and you were simply too delicious. at this rate, she might just cum untouched! the idea of it was humiliating almost, but gaeul figured that if she made you cum hard enough then you wouldn’t even realize what had happened to her. but then again… why would she go through all that trouble?

with one hand, gaeul reaches down and unzips her jeans, sliding further down and massaging her clit through her panties. of course, you don’t see this. you don’t even hear gaeul over the sound of your whimpering and moaning—all you wanted was to use her mouth to get yourself off. you managed to open your eyes slightly, however, and looked down at gaeul. her eyes were shut off, eyebrows furrowed deeply as she diligently ate out and fingered herself at the same time.

you heart swells as you allow yourself to etch every single facial feature of hers in your mind. you didn’t think you’d find a more fitting place for your best friend. it turns out she looked good underneath you, too! when you got distracted by admiring gaeul’s face, you felt a sting on your ass. you gasped loudly, and although it caught you off guard, you liked it. you moved your hips enthusiastically as gaeul squeezed your ass, now glaring at you to intimidate you to keep going. and it works! well, it’s not like you were going to stop just like that.

“p-pretty… you belong right here…” you said, gripping her hair tighter. gaeul moans at your words and she feels herself only clenching tighter around her own fingers. she didn’t expect to get so turned on by merely fucking you and hearing you talk to her in such a different way than usual. she pushes her tongue inside your cunt, making you scream in pleasure. gaeul’s ears ring at the sound of your voice—she was sure now that you wouldn’t dare go back to that pathetic boyfriend of yours.

you were hers now. and she has always been yours.

“gaeul… babe, i’m cumming—god…!” with one last thrust on your best friend’s face, you came. moaning blissfully in the air as gaeul allowed you to ride your orgasm out, and while she laps up your cum as best as she could, she hits a satisfying climax which grants you the perfect chance to hear a cute squeak from her. gaeul removes her hand from her panties and holds you down on her face, not entirely satisfied to let you go even though she can see that you can barely keep yourself sitting. that wasn’t going to be a problem anymore though as gaeul once again flipped your positions so you would be sitting on the bed and she would still be in between your legs.

“mmh… stop, i’m tired… please.” you shake your head weakly, gently tapping gaeul’s hand. fortunately enough, your best friend respected your wishes and stopped, opting to scoop you up in her arms instead and hug you. you laughed at how much of a mess you made on your best friend’s face, wiping all of it clean with your hands before giving her a quick kiss. gaeul doesn’t forget to get rid of her pants before staying completely still in bed with you, staring at nothing but your pretty face for minutes on end.

you think you fell asleep a couple of times, and you ended up always opening your eyes to gaeul smiling dumbly at you like a lovesick puppy. if you had known gaeul allowed herself to see you in such a different light, then you wouldn’t have wasted time trying to fall in love with a boy who did nothing good for you. but no matter, you were going to leave him, and finally, you and your best friend can work towards a more fulfilling relationship for the two of you.

“i always knew it’d be you in the end.” gaeul whispers as she leaves the tiniest and sweetest kisses on your knuckles.

the tiniest bits of fear settled in the pit of your stomach—you didn’t want your boyfriend to find out about this at all. you wanted to protect gaeul and dump his ass with as much as peace as you can manage, but you know he was going to bring her up somehow. at the end of the day, the blame should be put on you since you were the one who allowed gaeul to make those advances towards you anyway… but you knew all too well that that wouldn’t stop your boyfriend from coming up with an excuse to try and confront your best friend.

but every time you dwelled on those thoughts, gaeul somehow notices it and keeps your eyes on her. she knew she would be able to pull your attention to something else and that she does rather effortlessly. and you knew that you would be safe, as long as you were with her.

you laugh at her words, “i’m glad that you didn’t fuck me just because i’m hot and you hate my boyfriend.” you joked, earning a playful slap on the shoulder.

“no, stupid,” gaeul pulls you closer by your waist, kissing your nose. “i love you.”

324 notes · View notes

selenascorner · 21 hours

Text

THIN LINE - M.S. 𓍯𓂃

·˚ ༘ disclaimer: This is a SERIES, so you'll eventually find more parts on my profile. I'm pretty much excited for this, since I've never done anything like this before. Special thanks to @luverboychris & @evieolo that gave me a hand. Kisses, mwah !!!

·˚ ༘ pairing: Matt Sturniolo x fem!reader

·˚ ༘ summary: Ever since Matthew started an unfounded rumor about you, a strong hostility has existed between you both. However, due to attending the same college, classes, meetings, and parties, it's impossible to avoid him. Over time, tension sparks a shift in dynamics, leading to unexpected revelations and surprisingly, hate is the only thing drawing you both closer.

·˚ ༘ warnings: MDNI, 18+ content, bully!matt, playboy!matt, toxicity, jealousy, cursing, angst, bulling, crying, mention of sex.

01. Unified Divergence ᥫ᭡ .ᐟ

˗ˏˋ "you again?" ´ˎ˗

The day started differently, not like any other. You sighed are you were getting mentally prepared for another week of college classes that seemed to stretch into eternity. Time was against you this morning, with your 8 a.m. chemistry class looming and it already being 7:46 a.m. Oversleeping had left you scrambling, trying to catch up with your morning routine. Brushing your teeth, combing your hair, picking out an outfit, and squeezing in a quick breakfast all had to be accomplished in a short time.

You darted into the bathroom, spurting toothpaste directly onto your tongue.

Swiftly, you spread it over your teeth and scrubbed diligently with your toothbrush. The ringtone of your phone interrupted the silence, your eyes rolling in mild annoyance. You left the bathroom to get your phone, recognizing the caller ID as your best friend, Lorelai. She was your best friend despite a year difference, that caused you. Accepting the Facetime call, you were instantly greeted by her smiling face, which despite the pressing time and your tardiness, brought a smile to your face.

"Where’d you end up?” Lorelai asked, her voice somewhat obscured by the murmur of background noise.

“I’m- I kinda slept in,” you confessed, a sheepish grin spreading across your face. You had been up until this morning, attempting to finish your chemistry project, at the same time spending time to study for your physics test. “I was up until 5 a.m. trying to complete that infuriating chemistry project. But, guess what? Didn’t quite cut it.”

As you spoke, you continued getting ready, setting your toothbrush on your nightstand and propping your phone up on your bed.

“I would help if I could,” Lorelai offered, her voice accompanied by a louder voice in the background pleading, “Come on, just let me see her!”

Your brows furrowed in confusion, wondering who was so eager to talk to you. Lorelai adjusted her phone to reveal Kingston, your other best friend. His expression was a mix of frustration and concern.

“Why won’t you let me help, y/n? You know I’m a whiz at chemistry!” He gestured towards himself for emphasis.

With an air of reassurance, you responded, “You know it’s fine, King-. You've already got a lab partner and Sophia’s way better at chemistry than I am. I just need to find a partner of my own.” You then picked up the phone again to better frame yourself in the camera. Kingston responded with a comforting smile, and in spite of everything, you mirrored his expression.

“How about we just do the project at my dorm?” he suggested, a playful smirk on his lips. “It’s not like anyone’s gonna find out. A slight bending of the rules could be fun.” You shook your head at his suggestion and reached for your chemistry textbook.

“I need to head out now, Kingston. Also, prepare for a smack on your cheek, you sex addict.” You laughed, ending the call and thrusting your phone into your pocket. You exited your dorm room, pulling the door closed softly behind you, and sprinted towards your chemistry class.

Upon arriving, you were panting heavily and found the hallway outside the classroom to be deserted. The realization hit you - class had already started. Your hand hovered over the doorknob, every ounce of courage you had was required to turn the handle and face the consequences, knowing you were about to get yelled at.

“You gonna keep staring at that for a bit longer, pal?” The familiar voice behind you belonged to Matt, his arms folded over his chest and a serious expression on his face.

Your relationship with Matt had always been a complex one. He basically was the college heartthrob, while you were just an ordinary college student. However, things had taken a bitter turn when he spread a rumour about you, stating you were a lesbian simply because you were a virgin. That was the reason that ignited the animosity between you.

“Fantastic,” you sighed, already dreading the confrontation with Matt.

“Never knew you were a vocal sigher,” Matt quipped, looking at you with an amused expression. You avoided his gaze, not wanting to escalate your growing anxiety.

“You need something, Matthew?” You asked, your tone laced with clear annoyance. On hearing this, Matt chuckled and rubbed his forehead.

“Actually, yes, I do. We're both late to the same class, right? I really need you to open that door for me, ‘cause we’re both already late. You gonna make it, hm?” His nonchalant words and his hum sent a chill down your spine, causing you to involuntarily bite your lower lip.

Not wishing to further engage with him, you stepped back and gestured towards the door handle. Matt raised an eyebrow, chuckled, and shook his head before pushing the door open just slightly. “That wasn’t so difficult, was it, dude?” He teased, using a nickname that made your skin crawl.

Matt stepped into the classroom first, and you followed suit. A wave of embarrassment washed over you as you felt the stern gaze of your professor.

“Well, isn't this a sight?” He remarked sarcastically. “A boy and a girl walking in late to class together. I expected as much from Mr. Sturniolo, but you, Miss y/l/n? That's a disappointment indeed.”

Your professor’s insinuations left you taken aback, but before you could offer any explanation, Matthew intervened.

“We didn’t do anything, sir. The only possible way I could be seen with her outside of class would be for a dare or down a payment.” Matthew’s words made you want to scream, but you bit back your anger and remained silent.

“Mr. Sturniolo, you must love getting into trouble, don't you?” The professor retorted, causing Matthew to groan beside you. A sense of satisfaction tingled in you at his discomfort.

“I assume neither of you managed to finish your assignment.” The professor's stern words were like a blow to the gut. You lowered your head, guilt washing over you. You’d spent the entire weekend engrossed in studying for an upcoming physics test, leaving no time to complete the assignment.

“Did either of you even start it?” He asked again, and his question was met with an uncomfortable silence. He sighed deeply, a look of disappointment crossing his face.

“Alright then. I'm left with no other choice. Sturniolo, you're paired with y/l/n. Don’t bother objecting; my decision is final. The rest of the class has already submitted their projects. If I don’t see your simple wind turbine project on my desk by tomorrow, you both can expect a big, red F.”

With that, he dismissed you. As you turned to leave, you heard Matt grumble under his breath and head towards the back of the class where his friends were seated. They chuckled at him, clearly finding amusement in his predicament.

You took your usual seat next to Kingston, who was unusually silent. He kept stealing glances at you, causing your frustration to grow.

Eventually, you sighed loudly and turned to face him. “What?” You asked, irritation seeping into your tone. He quickly snapped out of his thoughts and looked at you, his expression unreadable.

“Nothing,” he replied nonchalantly, resting his chin on his hand. You sighed audibly in frustration and slapped his hand away, causing his chin to drop slightly.

“Seriously, what’s wrong?” You insisted, growing weary of his silence. He rolled his eyes and finally responded.

“You fucking Sturniolo?” He asked bluntly. The question caught you off-guard and you immediately recoiled, taken aback by it.

“What? No!” You hissed, lowering your voice when you noticed the professor glancing in your direction. You quickly turned your attention back to your textbook, pretending to be engrossed in the lesson.

Once you were sure his attention was elsewhere, you turned back to Kingston. “Well, both of you were late and together. It doesn’t seem like a coincidence. You think I'm dumb or something?” He questioned, causing your frustration to boil over.

“Listen, Kingston. I don’t know why you’re acting this way, but you’re crossing a line. I told you, there is absolutely nothing going on between Matthew and me. The only feeling we have for each other is mutual hate. Understood?” You said, growing weary of his baseless accusations. He seemed to finally grasp the reality and nodded, picking up his pen.

“But what about the project? Whose dorm will you be working on it in?” He asked, chewing on his pen. You shook your head, not wanting to think about it.

“Definitely not his,” you replied, focusing your attention back on the lesson.

After three gruelling hours of chemistry, you gathered your books and readied yourself for your next class. You picked up your physics textbook and planned to use your break to review the material while enjoying your sandwich.

As you made your way out of the class, you exchanged a few words with Kingston and spotted Matt heading towards the cafeteria. “Matthew!” You called out, standing on your tiptoes and waving your hand. He turned around, clenched his jaw, and rolled his eyes. His friends laughed at his reaction, whispering words you couldn’t quite make out.

He made his way to you through the crowd towards you as Kingston stepped away, giving you both space. “You again?” Matt asked, his tone brimming with annoyance. You lowered your gaze to your textbook, scanning the words of it as you spoke.

“I was thinking we could do the project at my dorm,” you suggested, looking up to assess his reaction. Matt looked around, sighed, and finally replied, “I thought you didn’t want anything that has to do with me, so it’s better off if you do it yourself, yeah?” He turned to leave, but you quickly caught his attention with your next words.

“You do realize that if you don’t help, I’ll tell the professor that I did the project all by myself, right?” Matt turned back around to face you, a nervous chuckle escaping his lips. His gaze locked onto yours, making you slightly uncomfortable.

“You’re just adorable when you’re threatening me, aren’t you?” He replied, his hand rummaging through his pockets.

"Look, I'm not giving you my phone number, don't even dream of that. My dorm, at 5 p.m. And that's it," he says in a curt tone. Without giving you the slightest chance to interject, he turns on his heel and leaves, dashing towards his group of friends. He shoots you one last look, a smirk spreading across his face as he joins his friends, laughing at you as well, leaving you alone with your frustration. Great, his dorm.

After what feels like an eternity, your best friend, Lorelai, finally makes her way over to you.

"Hey, how you doin’?” she asks, her eyes darting around the busy hallway, searching for her friend. "Where on earth is Kingston?" she asks, a hint of annoyance creeping into her voice. Unable to provide a satisfying answer, you decide to make your way to the cafeteria with her, hoping that Kingston would eventually show up.

"He just sort of... left. But don't worry, I'm sure he'll be back soon. By the way, how was literature class?" you ask, trying to change the subject. Lorelai nods, her attention fixated on the avocado she's peeling with her teeth.

"Really, Lorelai?" you tease, unable to hide your amusement. "You couldn't just cut it up and put it in a box before class starts, could you?" She simply shakes her head, her eyes twinkling with mischief as she pulls out a spoon from her backpack's front pocket.

"Wow, you've got the whole set there," you say, your laughter echoing around the cafeteria. Unfazed, she scoops a spoonful of avocado, not even bothering to wait for you to sit down.

Finally finding a spot, you sit on the bench, your eyes scanning the cafeteria. That's when you spot Kingston, making his way towards you and Lorelai. A smile spreads across your face as you see him, a smile he returns with equal warmth. He takes a seat next to you, and with that, the three of you get lost in a conversation, the noise of your words mixed with your laughters cafeteria fading into the background.

4.43 p.m. •°. *࿐

You find yourself in the deserted hallway as you slowly make your way to Matthew's dorm room. A knot of anxiety forms in your chest, growing tighter with each step. You're aware that you're about to spend the next three and a half hours with the person you detest the most in the world, and to make matters worse, it will be in his dorm, his room.

You trudge down the quiet hallway, as you come to a halt in front of Matthew's dorm door. You take a deep breath, and decide to knock three times, each knock loud and clear. From behind the door, you hear a loud sigh, and suddenly the door swings open, revealing Matthew's figure looming in the doorway.

You stand there, frozen for a moment, as he scans what you’re holding in your hands, your shopping bag that contains the materials for your project.

Without a word, he takes it from your grasp and he turns and places it on his desk, his back towards you as you hesitantly step into his dorm.

You cast a quick glance around the room, noticing how the rest of the dorm is a chaotic mess. But his area is a definitely different, surprisingly neat and organized. His bed is immaculately made, a bottle of cologne and a can of deodorant are neatly aligned on his nightstand, and his desk is spotless. There's not a single shirt out of place, as you can see the rest of the boys’ shirts on every piece of forniture, even on the floor.

"Why is nobody here?" You curiously ask, the question slipping out before you can stop it. You can't help but feel guilty for saying something first.

"I asked the others to leave," he responds, in an annoyed tone. "We wouldn't be able to concentrate with them around. They're too loud.” With that, he pulls up a chair and sits down, his attention now on the contents of the shopping bag.

He sifts through the various objects, each one carefully examined. As he does so, you silently take a seat on the chair, watching him.

"What's this stuff?" He finally breaks the silence, holding out a roll of tape.

"It's everything we need to build a wind turbine. Bottle, scissors, marbles, ruler. All that kind of stuff," you explain, trying to suppress the tension knotting in your stomach.

"I don't know how this works," he admits, shaking his head and withdrawing his hands from the bag.

"It's alright. We'll figure it out together," you say, trying to offer reassurance. A heavy silence fills the room. Maybe you shouldn't have said that.

"Okay. Just tell me what to do, I'll help you out," he says, almost surprising you. His willingness to help is music to your ears.

"Let's go through the bag and talk about what each item is for," you suggest. He nods in agreement, flipping the bag over and scattering its contents across the desk. You both delve into a detailed discussion about each item, its purpose, and its role in the project.

As the minutes tick by, he sits there, listening attentively. He doesn't interrupt or make any comments, just quietly absorbs what you're saying. He seems genuinely interested in the task at hand.

"Sorry, Matt--" You try to interject after about 30 minutes of explaining, feeling your throat sore, but he quickly cuts you off.

"It's Matthew for you," he corrects you, his gaze briefly meeting yours before returning to the marbles he has in his hands.

"Sorry. Could I get some water, please?" you ask, your throat dry from all the talking. He nods in response, carefully placing the marbles down, getting up from his chair. He strides towards the mini fridge, but as he reaches for the handle, his phone rings. He swiftly turns around, heading back towards his desk.

"I gotta pick this up. You get the water, it's in the fridge," he instructs before picking up his phone and moving away. You hear him mutter a few words, but they're too faint to make out.

With a sigh, you get up from your chair and head towards the fridge. As you open it, you're met with cans of beer, soda, bottles of water, and wine. You pick up a bottle of water but notice there aren't any glasses around. You decide to close the fridge and wait for Matthew's call to end, so you can ask him about it. Leaning against the fridge, you start to tap your foot in rhythm with your thoughts, the water bottle held tightly in your grasp.

a/n: my tags are working mad weird, idk why i gotta tag people like this lol. also i am/have never been into college. i don't know how lots of stuff works, so i did my best. i love writing, but also please feel free to correct me if some things are not right ! <3

taglist 🏷 : @inkyray @hysteria-things @spaznongirl @worldlxvlys @nickgetsmewetter

@patscorner @deftonesmatt @riasturns @vanteguccir @sturniololoverssblog

@luverboychris @imwetforyourmom @bambi-slxt @cindylcuwho @freshloveforthefit

@sturnioz-replies @mattscoquette @evieolo @cartierhalo @sturnthepot

304 notes · View notes

quinnylouhughesx43 · 2 days

Text

𝐏𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐓𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 - 𝐥𝐡𝟒𝟑

summary: requested by @toasttt11 : “I don’t think I’ve ever met someone that makes me want to treat them like they’re royalty, like they do” in which luke yaps out about his girl to jack, luke hasn’t told his girl exactly how much he likes her, jack takes matters into his own hands.

warnings: use of y/n, couple uses of profanity, really it’s just luke being a massive s!mp for his girl so fluff fluff fluff, jack meddling (again)

word count: 2.25k

notes: thank you toast for this prompt request I had a lot of writing this!!! i didn’t think i would finish it so quickly but the tournament i was supposed to ref got cancelled so im stuck in a hotel with nothing to do but read and write… hopefully its good because i already wrote a 6 year in the future pt 2

As Luke slid the key into the lock, a warm, fuzzy feeling filled him up like a cup of his favorite grandma’s homemade hot chocolate after a long day of playing on the outdoor rink as a kid. He had just returned home from his date with a girl he had become absolutely smitten with. Her name was y/n, and she had this alluring way about her that made him feel as if he was walking on the clouds. It was in the way she laughed, how she would talk about her family, it reminded Luke of the way he talked about his family, it was the way she smiled when she talked about her favorite things. To Luke everything about her was perfect.

And now, here he was, back at his shared apartment with his middle older brother, grinning from ear to ear like an idiot. Jack, had spotted him as he was about to enter the apartment through the windows and was gingerly waiting to ask him what had him so smiley.

Luke routinely wears this tight lip, apprehensive smile but after being around her or simply just the thought of her was enough to bring out his genuine smile. “Who or what has you so giddy? You look like a child who was just told they were given unlimited access to a toy store for the next year.” Jack questioned. Scampering around their small living room to stay right on his younger brother’s heels. Attempting to insure he didn’t miss Luke’s answer. Luke didn't even need to think about it before he replied, "I’ve been seeing someone...and let’s say, if someone would have asked me what I wanted them to put together in a female, she is it. Wholly everything." He paused for a moment, letting the words sink in for Jack. Luke’s heart was still beating rapidly even after being away from y/n for half an hour now. He was truly down bad.

Jack's eyebrows raised, his mouth agape. Not believing what he just heard quite yet, "Wait, you mean you're in a relationship with someone?" He asked, trying to keep the incredulous tone out of his voice. Luke shook his head no, feeling a little self-conscious suddenly. Jack narrowed his eyebrows as if to question him why no, but didn’t just yet. Sometimes dating exclusively just doesn’t happen. "And this girl, she's...she's really special?" He prodded. Luke nodded again only a yes this time, and more confidently. "Yeah, Jack. Y/n is really special. I don't think I've ever met another girl that makes me want to treat her like she's royalty all the time, like she does." He paused, letting the words hang in the air. "I think...I think I might be falling in love with her." The silence that followed was deafening. Jack beginning to think Luke just might be serious.

Jack looked at Luke, attempting to gauge if he was serious or if he was just being his typical sarcastic self. But when he studied Luke’s eyes and noticed the sincerity shining through and the emotions held in each word he spoke that this definitely was not a joke. There was no way this was just another one of Luke's short flops either. He was serious about this girl.

For a short lived moment, Jack felt a pang of jealousy that the youngest was seemingly finding himself in a serious relationship. Only he quickly reminded himself that it wasn't like he was necessarily someone who had truly went out and tried to find himself someone special either. It also wasn't like Luke had ever been the kind to want anything that was deemed as just a good time or an easy lay. However, he also wasn’t one to talk about love, girlfriends, and all that over the top mushy stuff. Those topics were more of Quinn’s realm of interest. Jack had never thought he'd hear any of this from his younger brother. At least he didn’t expect it fresh out of his rookie year when women throw themselves at him.

Luke shifted uncomfortably, moving to sit on the couch next to Jack, emptying out his pockets onto the table, all while being under Jack's intense studying stare. "What?" He asked, not entirely sure how to react to his brother's silence. “So, you want to treat her like royalty?” Jack reiterated Luke’s previous comment. Luke nodded, feeling the heat in his cheeks intensify. Luke dropped his face into his hand for a few moments thinking how he’s going to approach his response before he spoke.

Jack took his chance and grabbed Luke’s phone. He knew his brother all toowell. He knew he would likely never be brave enough to spill out whatever confession he is about word vomit to him out again, let alone to y/n. He quickly shot off a text to her about it being from Jack, and that he was calling her but needed her to listen to the conversation, not talk to him unless he talks to her. Does Jack feel bad for tricking his baby brother and this girl? Oh definitely. But he thinks it will help him, he hopes it will at least. He’s grateful that Luke even mentioned her name.

“Yes I do want to treat her right. I don’t know her past relationships, and I’m not sure that they even matter? If it is her and I, I hope she never thinks of him or them again. I want to give her every reason to forget they ever even existed. I want to make her world be an entirely different place than it is now. Make it different. Better. Because she deserves it. So. Yeah Jack, yes, I want to be the guy who opens the door for her, who treats her like she's the most important person in the room, shit the most important person in this world. I want to make her feel special, you know?" He shrugged, looking up for the first time before meeting his brother's gaze. Thank goodness, Jack had the phone discreetly placed. Luke could continue his rambling which Jack knew by the way his eyes were glassed and his pupils dilated so large, “Go ahead, continue talking about her. You’ve stayed quiet about her for a while apparently, let’s hear it.” Jack wasn’t that interested or invested in Luke’s overtly smitten relationship but he was happy seeing his baby brother so happy.

Luke let out a small laugh, feeling the warmth spread from his chest to his fingertips. "Y/n is amazing, Jack. She's funny, and so damn smart, I am talking mom smart. I have never met anyone else as smart as mom until her, and...and the best part, get this she had no idea who I was before I introduced myself. I was just Luke to her, I wasn’t Luke Hughes, New Jersey Devil. I was just Luke again. I didn’t have to overcome some preconceived idea she already had of me. I only had to worry about the one she would form of me when we first met. She knows now that I play for the Devils, I wanted to be open about it but it was so nice to meet with out having to fight for showing someone that I am more than hockey. So for her, although it has only been a few true dates and a couple times seeing each other I want to show her that to me, she's as important as a princess." Luke paused, there was a faraway look in his eyes, as if he was imagining the moments of treating her, loving her. "She hates being paid for, but I want to give her everything she desires, needs, I don’t want to do it because I’m fortunate enough to be able to. I want to because she never puts herself first. If she’ll be with me, one day she’ll be the first in my universe.” Luke turned his to look at his older brother, hoping that he was getting through to him. He sure was. Jack was nothing short of wonderstruck.

"She's a lucky girl, you know that? To have someone like you who genuinely cares for her, who sees beyond the superficial layers and goes deep, who wants to make her feel so special." Luke nodded, a small smile playing at the corner of his lips. "No. You’re wrong. I am the lucky one. I just hope she knows how I feel. I don't want to mess this up." Jack reached over and pulled Luke into him by the shoulder, a normal gesture of affection from the older brother. "Just be you, little bro. That's all you can do, seems it already worked for you. Right? Mr. Just Luke. Question is though, have you even began to tell her any of this?” Jack asked him possibly the most important question of the entire conversation.

Luke paused for a moment, his expression turning down from the previous glowing high. "Not yet. Us Hughes boys do have a track record of doing or saying dumb shit too early. I don't want to put any pressure on her to reciprocate the same feelings. I just want her to know that she makes me happy, that she's special to me. But I want her to feel it, see it in my actions, without having to say it." He sighed, resting his head back against the couch. "But I know I should tell her, right?”

Jack flashed him a smile, retracting his his arm from over his shoulders and dropping it over to pat Luke's knee. "Yeah, you should. But you've got this, little bro. You've got a good head on your shoulders, and you're being genuine. She'll see it. And if you're still worried about it, well, I'll always be here to help you. Like now.” Jack revealed that he had stolen Luke’s phone off the coffee table when he had dropped his head earlier in the conversation. Y/n listened silently hearing his verbose words he shared over their time together. Her heart palpitated a few times over things he had said specifically about her. No one had ever talked about her the way Luke did. It made her feel ways she was unsure how to put into words just yet.

A few moments of shared unutterable silence spread across the three of them when Jack had announced that y/n was on the phone and she inevitably had heard Luke’s emotional admiration for her, y/n’s voice finally broke through the speaker of the phone.

"Luke, I'm so glad you told him that. Or well both of us that.. It's just... well, you know... I am just me, a normal person. There’s no need to overplay it silly boy." Her voice was soft, almost shy like it was the night Luke and her me. Probably because Jack was listening, but there was still the hint of that playfulness that Luke had started to love. "I can't even tell you how much it means to me that you see past all of my quirky interests and...” She paused for just a split second “Can I come off speaker phone? Uhm.. I really just want Luke to hear this.” Jack handed Luke his phone with a smug I told you so look plastered on his face. “Hey, it’s just you and I now.” Luke told her, even getting up off couch to allow space between him and his nosey brother. Luke had a smile so big spread across his face. Jack couldn’t help but smile too. His baby brother was growing up on him. Y/n continued, “and most of all I like that you're just Luke for me, and that you felt comfortable enough to still tell me so quickly about your life when you could’ve kept me in the dark for however long you wanted to. You may be this hockey star, but for me you’re just Luke. I mean, I know you're amazing at hockey and all, but that doesn’t define who you are in life. You are so much more. You're funny and sweet and thoughtful, and I just... I just can't help but feel lucky that I get to spend time with you. And I hope you know that." She paused, her voice catching a little, and Luke could swear he could hear her sniffling. "So, um, yeah. I guess what I'm trying to say is... I want you to know that I feel the same way.” Luke’s face kept flushing deeper shades of red it was nearly burgundy by the time y/n was finished talking. He couldn’t form a coherent sentence without stammering entirely over his words. He pulled his phone away from his ear and opened their text thread.

“Can I come to your place? I think we should finish talking in person?”

Luke pressed send and heard her cute giggle through the phone speaker. “Yes. I’ll see you soon.” The two shared their goodbyes before hanging up the phone. “Jack. You’re dead when I get back, but thank you.” Luke said to his brother scurrying around the living room for his shirt he discarded earlier and his sneakers.

Luke grabs his keys and wallet from the bowl in the table by the door. Murmuring a goodbye to Jack and essentially leaps out the door. He has a very little talking he wants to complete and a lot of affection to start giving. Y/N is anticipating his arrival because first thing she plans on doing is nabbing a kiss from the sweetest boy on this planet. Both of them riddled with anticipation to see each other. If they turn out not to be meant for each other, then there is no way soulmates exist. Luke and y/n are two halves apart that become one when close to one another.

374 notes · View notes

aestrayla · 2 days

Text

cherries or peaches? pt. 2 ft. obey me! datables

summary: do they prefer ass or boobs? ft. obey me! datables x f!reader

cw: HIGHLY suggestive, mdni, fluff??, pet names (sweetheart), fondling, groping, grinding/humping, semi-public but no sex, licking, stripping, MY HUMOUR..

word count: 1.4k

a/n: thank u so much for the love on the first part, im so happy to be able to write these hcs, they’re such a fun idea. i got a bit carried away and some of these turned into half-ish fics but i hope u enjoy this version just as much as the first ♡

diavolo loves ass. the end.

just kidding.

ever since arriving in the devildom, student council meetings had always been a bore to you. you were never able to understand the complex topics of the “worldly problems” discussed, which often led to you staring out into space.

but ever since you got close to diavolo, things had changed.

“keep it down, y/n,” diavolo whispered through clenched teeth, as he kept a beaming smile glued to his face.

you let out a peeved groan. how the hell were you supposed to keep quiet when he kept rocking you back and forth on his lap like this?

despite your squirming, his hands never left you as he pushed and kneaded at your ass under the table. his hard-on evident as it ground against your clit, eliciting hushed whimpers from your lips.

in many ways, doing this was beyond worse than just zoning out, one wrong move and the whole student council would probably never look you in the eye again.

to make matters worse, diavolo insisted that meetings can’t start unless you were up here, in his lap, at all times.

“dia, i can’t do this anymore,” you whimpered under your breath.

“it’s almost over soon, sweetheart. just a little longer ‘n then i’ll make you feel good, hm?”

it might not be obvious at first, but barbatos loves boobs.

hearing that he was the “greatest pastry chef in all three worlds” has always been something that intrigued you. it wasn’t until you tried them for yourself that you realised that this statement was far from being a lie.

it was only a few weeks ago that you asked him to teach you a few of his recipes, you had never seen so much delight in his eyes. “oh that would be great, y/n! i’ve always been looking forward to the day you’d ask me so.”

as you slam the door to the oven, a gust of the hot air blows against your face, “how long should these be in the oven for, barbs?”

“thirty minutes should be fine. do you mind adding some of that sugar over there into this bowl?” you set the oven timer to thirty minutes before scurrying over with a measured bowl of sugar, pouring it into the bowl of fresh cream.

“perfect, could you whisk up this cream for me while i go find the vanilla?”

“sure.” he hands you the whisk before poking his nose through the cupboards in search of vanilla.

as you were whisking, you let your mind wander. gosh, i can’t wait to try this when it’s done… but dang i lowkey wonder when he’s gonna let me in his pants already… a few wet splatters across your chest had snapped you back to focus, “oh shit— i spilt it on me!”

the clank of the whisk dropping to the countertop had barbatos rushing towards you.

“oh goodness me, you’ve made a mess!”

“i know… fuck i’m sorry. i’ll just get a tea towel and wipe—”

before you could finish your sentence, barbatos had stopped you. his body crowding up against yours as he leaned in. holding you by your waist, you could feel his kitten licks swipe against your chest, even reaching as far down to the cleavage of your boobs.

you started to feel hot and dazed as the sweet aroma drifted through the kitchen, while he started to suck harshly against your skin, fingers creeping up to caress you’re boobs. soft pants began to leave your mouth as his tongue worked across your chest, but before it could escalate any further, he had pulled away.

as he stepped back, wiping the corner of his lips, you were left completely flustered, “oh wow, the cream without the vanilla tastes really good, you might just have a talent for baking y/n!”

“uh-huh…” you muttered, staring at him dumb-found and wide-eyed.

simeon is secretly a big fan of boobs, so today was a big treat for him.

it was the weekend, he had scored a pair of free tickets to the amusement park, and of course decided to bring you along. it was a leisurely day however, the rides and attractions he decided to do were almost too tame for your excitement.

dragging him along, you spot an attraction that seemed to catch your eye. handing two tokens to the employee, you quickly rushed into the tank, simeon freezing, clearly stunned and confused about what was about to happen. “hey y/n, what’s going on?!”

taking a seat on the tiny platform you point to the target beside you, “can you hit a bullseye?” you winked.

the employee hands simeon a ball, “you’ve got three tries, buddy.” after a moment of hesitation, he throws the ball, hitting the center of the target with a loud smack.

you let out a small shriek before getting submerged into the tank of water. “oh my— Y/N!” simeon rushes towards the tank, quickly pulling you out from the water. you let out sharp breaths before giggling, “your aim is amazing!”

“is this your idea of fun?!” his hands reach up to hold both sides of your face, turning it from one side to the other. “you’re not hurt are you?”

you smile sweetly, flattered by his concern, “i’m fine simeon, it was fun, really.”

he sighs, “good, alright.” his eyes travel over your body checking for any scrapes before widening at the sight of your chest. the water had soaked your white shirt completely, revealing that you were wearing nothing underneath. your round nipples were perked up from the cold water while your shirt was clinging onto your wet skin.

gasping even louder than before, in a flimsy last-minute attempt to cover you up, he slaps his hands over each of your boobs and although it works in his favour, you couldn’t help but burst out laughing.

“don’t laugh y/n! we need to get you a new shirt, or at least a sweater!”

you pull him towards you by his collar, your lips mere inches away from touching, “so are you gonna help me take this one off first?” your purr.

his hands race to cover his reddened face, “w-wait that’s not what i—!” upon realising your boobs are on display again, he slams his hands back over them, “y/n!” he whines.

two hours in, and it was blatantly obvious to solomon that this tutoring session was going nowhere.

you weren’t understanding any terms or concepts of the topic at hand and with a week to go before your final, it seemed like solomon was more worried about this than you were. surely it isn’t because you’re too distracted sitting in his lap, right?

he clears his throat, “how about this…” you slowly lift your head up from the palm of your hands, clearly distressed about your upcoming failure. “for every question you get incorrect, you remove a piece of clothing.”

you raise your brows, intrigued, “and for every question i get right, you remove a piece of clothing?” you stare back at him.

“exactly, and for that answer…” he slowly shrugs off his blazer and places it behind his chair, “i’ll remove this.”

in hopes of this becoming a motivation for you, he began to quiz you with a mini questionnaire. “what are the three ingredients used to make the elixir of cerebral stimulation?”

you internally face palm because you knew jack shit about brewing potions, “uhhh… newt legs, unicorn hair, and frog mucus?”

solomon clears his throat ubruptly. “um, no. the correct answer is powdered unicorn hoof, bittergrass root, and caladrius blood.”

you look down in embarrassment before removing three pieces of clothing. only four minutes in and you’re left in nothing but your underwear and bra.

“last and final question, what covered the devildom when it was first created?”

“…darkness?”

“…unfortunately, that is incorrect. the correct answer is a forest.”

you groan. you haven’t gotten a single question correct and embarrassment was evident as your face was flushed. you turn to face solomon, “at this point, why don’t you choose what i take off?”

your pretty face staring up at him, teary and doe-eyed had him swooning. slowly standing up and pushing your back down onto the table, he stared deliriously at you. papers were scattered everywhere and textbooks were crumpled open. your legs were wrapped around his waist as his hands gently pulled the straps of your bra down your shoulders.

staring at your bare chest he murmurs, “i’m obsessed with these,” before diving straight in.

a/n: haven’t written in about 5 months so excuse how rusty my writing has gotten.. but nonetheless, thank for reading this far, luv you all ♡

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me headcanons #obey me fanfic #obey me x mc #obey me x reader #obey me x you #obey me imagines #obey me nightbringer #obey me diavolo #diavolo x reader #obey me barbatos #barbatos x reader #obey me simeon #simeon x reader #obey me solomon #solomon x reader #obey me hcs

264 notes · View notes

mxstellatayte · 2 days

Text

next door kind of love.

warnings: none, just some childhood best friends to lovers and tooth-rotting fluff. make your dentist's appointments now yall.

growing up living next door to the sargeants was an interesting experience. your parents were friends, having bonded when logan's parents moved in a few months after your own parents had. then, a few years later, they had dalton. just over a month after dalton's first birthday, you came along, and then eight months after you, on new year's eve, logan was born.

the three of you were inseparable as you grew up. you'd accompany them to their races and they'd support you at your roller derby tournaments. they would find a new way to climb the tree in your back yard and you would set a time record for climbing that route. the three of you had more inside jokes than you could count, made up more backyard games than anyone could ever begin to comprehend, and trusted each other beyond the ends of the earth.

when the sargeants moved to switzerland, though, you were crushed. sure, their plan was to only stay for two years, but those two years started to feel like an unbearable eternity after just the first month.

"mama," you said, a bite of peanut butter and jelly sandwich in your mouth, "i miss logie and dalt. when are they coming back?"

"not for a long time, honey. i'm sure they'll come visit, though. how about we call them and see how they're doing?"

your face lit up. "yeah! can we call them now? can we can we can we?"

your mother smiled and shook her head, the papers surrounding her full of confusing numbers and big words like "homeowner's insurance" and "disability pension application."

"maybe, honey. we'll have to see what time works for them. first, though, i need you to finish your lunch, strawberries and all. can you do that for me?"

"sure, mama."

lo and behold, two years had passed, and the sargeants were almost back to florida. your father had the idea of surprising them at the airport, so you'd made a giant sign that said "WELCOME BACK SARGEANTS!" in bright blue magic marker. after selecting a spot you deemed visible enough, you craned your neck every time a new flow of passengers exited, hoping to see your best friends. every time you caught a flash of what might've been one of them, your heart skipped a beat, but when you finally saw dalton, logan, and their parents, it felt like you were on the moon.

you mustered up as much air into your thirteen-year-old lungs as you could and screamed.

"DALTON! LOGAN!"

every head in the airport whipped around to you, but you couldn't care less. your two best friends were running full speed at you, suitcases abandoned with their parents, and you couldn't stop smiling. you're slammed by the tightest hug you've ever experienced and you might be seeing stars from your ribs being crushed but that doesn't matter when you finally have dalton and logan back with you in florida.

you're muttering so many "i missed you"s and "i couldn't wait to see you guys"s and "i have so much to tell you"s into them, and it feels like forever before you guys let go of each other.

"you guys ready to get out of here?"

when logan won the karting championship in 2015, you'd never screamed louder. you were the first person he looked for after the race and the person he hugged the tightest.

when you made it to the top roller derby league in your area, he was the first person to congratulate you, and he brought you a small bouquet of your favorite flowers- baby breath, white tulips, and jasmine.

as logan worked his way up through the different levels of formula racing, you'd always manage to stay up to all hours of the night to watch him race or even send him a simple "good luck" text.

when he told you he'd been admitted to the williams driver academy, you almost tackled him to the ground with how much force you hugged him with. "i'm so happy for you," you said, repeated like a mantra.

"and guess what?"

"there's more?" you pulled back from the hug, looking up at him.

"i get to do a post-season test drive in abu dhabi."

"what?!" the smile on your face is not only from pride, but now also shock. "lo, are you serious? that's amazing! when did you find out?"

"maybe..." he checks his watch, eyes looking up. "five minutes ago?"

"wait. did you tell your parents? and dalt?" he hesitates, a blush of embarrassment creeping up his cheeks. you can't help but think, even for an instant, that it's... kind of cute?

"logan hunter sargeant, did you tell me before you told your parents?"

"i might have..." the scowl on your face deepens, and you pull away from him, remove the house slipper you're wearing, and whack him across the head with it.

"out of my house! go over to your own and tell your parents, your literal givers of life, that you're driving a fucking formula one car! out! out with you!" you wave him out of your front door and watch with a smile on your face as he runs back to his own home, laughing when he trips over himself and falls into the grass. a few minutes later, you hear dan and madelyn scream with joy.

"my best friend is going to drive a formula one car," you say to the wind. "holy shit."

a bit over a year later, when logan signs with williams to drive with them in 2023, he still tells you before his parents.

the tuesday after the austin grand prix, a new post on your private instagram account appears. its location is tagged as the circuit of the americas and the caption reads "one of the perks of your best friend being a formula 1 driver is getting to go to austin and get paddock passes for free. the other is getting to spend the weekend with your best friend."

in may of 2024, logan brings you to the miami grand prix. at the end of the race, you are the first person he looks for. you are the person he hugs the tightest. you are the person to tell him that it wasn't his fault that he crashed and he did everything he could. you are the person whose shoulder he cries into and the person who gently holds his face and wipes his tears away with your thumbs.

you are the person to stand on your tip toes to place a kiss to his lips, the salty taste of his tears reaching your own lips. you are the person he sees when he opens his eyes and, when you backpedal in the slightest bit, you are the person he pulls closer and kisses like he means it.

you are the only person that hears when he says that he's loved you since you surprised him at the airport when they came back from switzerland. you are the only person that hears him say that it's always been you that he's loved, that he's never seen anyone else besides you.

and he is the only one that hears you say that you love him, too.

#formula 1 #mxstellatayte #f1 #formula 1 fluff #driver: ls2.#logan sargeant fluff #logan sargeant fanfiction #logan sargeant imagine #stella writez #f1 fluff #f1 fanfiction #formula 1 fanfiction #formula 1 x reader #f1 x reader #logan sargeant x reader #logan sargeant #formula 1 imagine #f1 imagine #drabble

184 notes · View notes

genderfluid-insomniac · 2 days

Note

IDEA!!

riddle, ace, and malleus (separately) x fem!reader (u can make it gn!reader if you’d prefer tho!) where the reader is about to leave twisted wonderland but she’s clearly hesitating and then the character asks why they don’t just go, and reader tells them through tears that she loves him, and asks if he feels the same n that if he does that will be the only reason she needs to stay. he does and she runs into his arms immediately. so a little bit of angst but ends with cute comfort. if this is unclear at all PLS LMK and i will clear it up!! brain is rotted atm bc i finished the worst essay of my life a little bit ago

Riddle, Ace, and Malleus (separately) x fem!reader who’s hesitant to go back home because of their crush

Riddle

You were looking at the mirror in front of you the hazy outline of the world you know and turning back to see Grim trying to wipe the tears from his eyes. He’d tried several times to stop you like rallying the ghosts in ramshackle to help him or using his fire magic in the least destructive way he could or moving all the furniture to block the door.

Ace and Deuce nor Epel, Jack, or Ortho didn’t want to force you to stay since you’d tried so hard to find a way to get home and now you had. It was right in front of you but you couldn’t bring yourself to take a step forward. Your heart refused to budge and rooted itself despite your mind's logical reasoning. It pushed the one reason you had been trying to ignore out to the front of your mind.

Tears brimmed your eyes and you did your best to blink them away to no avail, using your hands to wipe them and felt them fall down your cheeks. You sniffled at the thought of never getting to see your crush again. Someone who you’d loved with all your heart and who helped you through all the trials and terrors that you’d experienced since you arrived in Twisted Wonderland.

You held your bag by your side and stared at the silver shining mirror that glowed signaling that its destination was fixed to the location the user wanted. Your home or rather somewhere close to your home as Crowley couldn’t exactly get the mirror to transport you to your country and reluctantly let Ortho and Idia help so its arrival destination was a lot closer.

Behind you were your friends along with your crush the dorm leader of Heartslayble Riddle and they watched bittersweetly as you walked closer to the mirror. In front of you was the hazy view of a city near where you lived and you were supposed to feel ecstatic that you could finally go home, and see your parents, and your friends but you didn’t. Ever since you stepped foot in Twisted Wonderland you felt like an alien but over time it began to be your home and one person held your heart through all your time here.

You loved Riddle dearly and after his overblot, you were there for him much to his confusion since he was horrible to you and the others but you relented. Riddle has grown so much from his freshmen year and saw nearly every day now, walking between classes or hanging out in Heartslayble and helping him paint the roses red or tending to the hedgehogs. The way he talked to the hedgehogs or flamingos was adorable and it was always impressive when an Unbirthday party was being set up and he was in his formal uniform staff in hand ordering people where each dessert went. In your hand was a specially made strawberry tart for you with a queen of hearts card sticking out of it and a fondant miniature hedgehog in front.

When Riddle tutored you because you needed help with some of your classes you sometimes tried to make the sessions last as long as they could since Riddle had such a strict schedule you would practically have to schedule or make an appointment his free time. Riddle of course upheld the rules for everybody even including you but he would sometimes bend them because your pout was too cute or your smile was perfectly bright. You both loved each other so much without the other knowing and it appeared like it would stay that way since you were leaving for your real home.

Riddle noticed you hadn’t moved for the last couple of minutes and seemed to be in deep thought however you were shaking. “Are you alright or worried? You’re shaking. Is there something wrong?” he asked and buried the twinge of hope in him that thought your hesitation was because you weren’t going to go back. You felt the hot tears drip down your cheeks and sniffled, turning around so your friend and everyone saw you were holding back the wave of tears threatening to fall. “I don’t want to go back… I don’t want to go back because that means I won’t get to see my friends or you! I love you so much! I have since the first unbirthday party I ever attended and I don’t know if you love me back but I don’t want to leave!” you cried and opened your eyes to see Riddle crying silently, tears unknowingly escaping his eyes and face a blushy pink.

You both stared at one another in silence for a couple of moments before the dorm leader spoke and wiped his face noticing his tears. “I didn’t want you to go back but it’s not my choice and it would be wrong of me to cause conflicts in you. I love you and want you to stay here with me. I can’t promise everything will stay calm but I promise I’ll always be by your side.” he said and his eyes widened when he saw you drop your things, running over to him and tackling the poor short Riddle to the ground. You cupped his face and kissed him softly, his face blushing scarlet but intertwining your hands and cupping your face in turn. “How about we make a new tart in celebration or salvage the fallen one I made you, my rose?” he asked and eyed the dropped slightly damaged dessert in its frail simple packaging.

Ace

The charm of an ace card that your crush Ace had given you was dangling from your phone and a replica of his magic pen held tightly. You looked at your phone once more and saw the goofy picture of both of you running from Riddle with the tart in hand as your lock screen. Letting a couple of tears fall and bringing your phone to your chest, trying to come to terms with that you would have to deal with never seeing your best friend and crush ever in exchange for being on earth again.

Ace and your other friends behind you grew worried as they saw your shoulders shaking and hands clutching your stuff tighten. Why were you hesitating? He was devastated that he would never get to see you again, assuming that texting you in your world didn’t work, and putting on a mask of happiness for you. He never even got to tell you he loved you but he knew now wasn’t the time as it’d make you hesitate. To the others, it was crystal clear how hard this was for both of you.

He ordered his voice to be steady even though it came out shaky. “Why don’t you just go? This is what you have wanted since you got here right? We’ll all miss you so much and you know we support your decision right?” he asked and heard the others murmur similar statements or agreement. You let out a sob and turned around to the group, tears falling down your red cheeks and bordering on a breakdown. “I can’t go knowing that I’ll never see any of you ever again. That I’ll never see you again, Ace. You’ve been with me since I got here and always stuck by me. I can’t leave because I love you and I’d never know if you loved me back if I left now!” you cried and hiccuped, dropping your bag and wiping your wet cheeks with your sleeve.

That was the breaking point for Ace and he stopped pretending to be glad you were going home, knowing his crush someone he loved ever since he saw you come through that mirror and go through all the crazy hijinx of this school year loved him back. He sobbed and held his uniform sleeve over his eyes to hide the onslaught of tears pouring out of his eyes. “I never wanted you to leave not when you already became a girl I could depend on every day. It’s selfish but I didn’t care because I loved you too. So seeing you happy to leave… it broke me.” he said and let the sad emotions overcome him.

You smiled albeit a bit wobbly and dropped everything you were holding, running to Ace and tackling him in a hug. Both of you fell to the ground with you on top of him and he cupped your face, kissing you softly and wiping the tears falling with his thumb. You parted for air and rested your head on his chest as you caught your breath. “So would my hot girlfriend be up for snatching a couple of sweets from my dorm?” he asked cheekily.

Malleus

Malleus had specifically arrived at Ramshackle to go with you to the Hall of Mirrors to spend the most time he could with you and convinced Lilia to stop Sebek from going with him since he knew it meant so much to his draconian friend. He desperately didn’t want you to leave. Who would he spend his nightly walks with or have interesting conversations about gargoyles? But most importantly, how would he fill the hole in his heart if his favorite student he loved left?

You held your bag in one hand and in the other was a replica of Malleus’ magic pen along with a small orb with the illusion of Ramshackle dorm with its gargoyles and you, Grim, and him outside pointing to different parts of the worn down dorm building. Just looking at it brought tears to your eyes. It reminded you of what you were leaving and how you were leaving the one person you loved behind.

Malleus and your friends noticed your hesitation and looked at each other worried if you were okay, wondering if they should speak up or say something. He went to take a step forward but stopped and gripped the sleeve of his blazer, unable to form the words he wanted to say. You looked at the glowing mirror in front of you and saw the hazy reflection of a familiar landmark smiling a bittersweet smile. Letting the tears fall down your cheeks and sniffling.

Your mind waged war on both sides of your mind wanting to come out on top and win. You didn’t want to leave the person who you’d slowly grown to love and who piqued your curiosity the moment you saw him. You couldn’t. Your crush spoke up after what felt like an eternity. “Are you alright? This is what you want isn’t it?” he said with a hint of solemnness. Turning around and letting everyone see your teary sad sad face. “I can’t go because I love you and if I go I’ll never get to see you again. I don’t want that. I love it here and I love being here with you. I love you and I don’t want to leave even if it means you don’t love me back!” you said through tears.

He let a few tears fall down his cheeks and smiled warmly. “I was hoping you would say something like that. I love you too and want nothing more than for you to stay here with me. I’d miss our walks and nicknames. Everything about you has captured my heart.” he said and brushed budding tears with his thumb. You sobbed hearing his confession and dropped what you were holding, running into his arms and holding him tightly. Both of you held the other like they would disappear if they let go. You laughed and leaned into the hand cupping your face, kissing him sweetly, and resting your forehead against his. “Shall we get something to eat, my beloved?” he asked charmingly.

#twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland #ace trappola x reader #ace trappola #malleus draconia x reader #malleus draconia #riddle rosehearts x reader #riddle rosehearts

108 notes · View notes

chiabeanz · 3 days

Text

Safehouse Sanctuary

summary: bucky barnes x reader drabble - tending injuries and nightmares 😌 (830 words)

You and Bucky Barnes stumble into the safehouse, a luxurious apartment hidden away in the heart of the city. You wince as you close the door behind you, the adrenaline from the mission wearing off and leaving you acutely aware of the sharp pain in your arm and the throbbing in your forehead.

Without a word, you and Bucky fall into a practiced routine, scanning the apartment for any signs of danger. You move through the space with careful precision, peering into corners and behind furniture, checking every nook and cranny. Bucky mirrors your movements on the opposite side of the apartment, his combat instincts as sharp as ever.

"We're clear," Bucky finally says, with you replying “Same here.” before putting the flashlight away.

"Great," you mutter, heading towards the kitchen where you know the med kit is stored. You pull it out from the cabinet and sit at the island, examining the laceration on your arm. The cut is not too deep but unfortunately hurts every time you move your arm which is very annoying. Your forehead wound isn’t as bad, but it still stings.

You start cleaning the wound, the antiseptic making you take a deep breath. The gauze and tape are ready on the counter, but as you fumble with the roll of tape, it gets on your last remaining nerve. Frustration bubbles up inside you, and you grab the offending roll, throwing it across the room where it hits the wall and bounces away.

Bucky watches this with a raised eyebrow. "It's not the tape's fault," he comments, his tone almost teasing.

"I know." you reply, annoyed and raising your voice more than you wish you did.

He approaches you, his demeanor softening. "Here, let me help."

"I don't need your help," you snap, more out of frustration with yourself than with him. "I can do it myself." That was uncalled for. You close your eyes and take a deep breath before replying more composedly. “I’m serious. I can do it myself.”

"I know you can," he replies calmly. "But you don't have to."

His gentle insistence makes you relent. He takes the tape and begins to expertly dress your wound, his touch surprisingly gentle. You watch him work, the furrow of concentration on his brow softening his usually stern features.

"Thanks," you murmur as he finishes, securing the bandage with a final piece of tape. "Are you hurt?"

He shakes his head slightly. "You're the one who pushed me out of the way. I only have a few small cuts that'll heal in a few hours anyway. You shouldn't have done that."

"If I didn't push you out of the way, they might've shot your ass," you retort. "Super fast healing powers or not, a bullet is more uncomfortable than a small cut."

He gives a small, almost reluctant smile. "Fair point but never do something like that ever again."

You scoff as you get up and walk to the mirror in the hallway, looking at your bandaged arm and the small cut on your forehead. With a wry smile, you say, "There goes the beauty pageant backup plan."

You turn to Bucky and ask, "What do you think?"

"Breathtaking," he deadpans, his expression unreadable. Then he gets up and moves towards the living area, leaving you to process his words.

Later that night, you claim the bed while Bucky settles on the floor, insisting that he doesn't need much to sleep. Despite the comfort of the bed, you find yourself lying awake, listening to the sounds of the city outside and Bucky's steady breathing below.

Suddenly, his breathing changes, quickening and becoming more erratic. You hear him mutter something unintelligible, his body twitching in the throes of a nightmare. Without hesitation, you slide out of bed and kneel beside him, gently shaking his shoulder.

"Bucky." you whisper urgently. "Hey."

His eyes snap open, wild and unfocused, but they soften as they meet yours. You notice the way his gaze briefly flickers to your arm, guilt shadowing his features. He sits up, running a hand through his hair, still breathing heavily.

"You okay?" you ask, concern evident in your voice.

He nods, though he looks haunted. "Yeah. Just... old memories."

You reach out to comfort him, but as your hand accidentally brushes his, he flinches away. The gesture is subtle but tells you everything. He’s afraid of hurting you.

"You didn't hurt me," you assure him softly. "In fact, you used these hands to tend to my injuries a few hours ago remember?” He looks at you, searching your face for any sign of fear. Finding none, he visibly relaxes, though the guilt doesn't completely leave his eyes.

"I know you think the floor is fine, but I don't," you say, trying to lighten the mood. "We're both adults. You should sleep on the bed. We can put a pillow between us if that makes it more digestible." For a moment, he looks like he might argue, but then he nods. "Alright."

The extra pillow, however, is never put down. Bucky settles in beside you, not too close but not too far either, his presence surprisingly comforting. Sleep finally claims you both, the knowledge that you have each other bringing a measure of peace in an otherwise tumultuous world.

A/N: Idea came from a dream btw thank you R.E.M

#bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky x you #the winter soldier #the winter solider x reader #the winter solider imagine #bucky x female reader #james bucky buchanan barnes

104 notes · View notes

sacrificialspice · 3 days

Text

POV: You are Sukuna’s catgirl!

~Part 2~ Headcanons + Mini Fic

18+, Sukuna x fem Reader

Thank you to all the people enjoying these posts, it isn’t something I’ve done before so it’s great to see. If I ever miss a content warning, please inform me.

Contains: Pet names, Master and pet dynamic, hybrid reader, some fluff, mention of killing, restricted freedom, nudism mention, mild degradation, pussy inspection, male masturbation, cum eating.

Your daily life with Sukuna quickly became a routine. As a pet, you don’t have many responsibilities but to be a companion for your Master. Your job is to provide him with love, basically. Sukuna isn’t an affectionate being, but he thrives off your love and worship. Deep down, you are the reason why he isn’t driven crazy by his almost-immortal life. Uraume has noticed the change in his demeanour since you arrived, and thus they appreciate your presence.

Whenever Sukuna sits on his throne, you are his lap-cat. His lap is very large and comfortable, also warm. His kimono smells so good, and you always drift off to sleep while he strokes your back. Sukuna kills anyone who questions why you are always with him; you get used to this (you have to). If you feel uncomfortable being nude while he addresses other curses or lowly humans, he lets you crawl into his kimono. So, he does have a soft spot and only wants to humiliate you for his amusement alone.

He is the king of pussy inspection! (“Spread those legs for Master, little sex kitten. Good girl… I can see the way your little hole clenches. Do you need cock, kitten? You know the magic words. Master will give you what you need.”)

If you whine to Sukuna that you are hungry, watch out. This is an invitation to him to do some nasty ass shit to you. Literally kinky nasty stuff that an innocent catgirl shouldn’t be doing… (apparently you don’t apply to this). After whining too much and testing Sukuna’s patience, he then grabs you off his lap and places you on the cold floor. (“Down. Get in position.”). You hastily position yourself in the way which he says you look best in; on all fours, arms folded in front of you, your legs strained slightly to lift up your ass. (“Stay like that. Now watch.”). He takes out a small ceramic dish, places it down by your face. He takes his kimono to one side, his hung manhood springing out. He strokes himself to get hard, admiring you being face down ass up. As he concentrates, you realize what is coming. Literally. He leans down, grunting while thick ropes land on the dish, painting it a pearly white. The musky smell of your Master hits your nostrils, making you salivate in anticipation. (“There’s your milk. Lick it up. No fingers.”). You finish by lapping up Master’s milk with a grateful smile.

(I have an idea for another mini fic, so I will find the time to write that soon.)

#sukuna smut #ryomen sukuna smut #jjk smut #sukuna x reader smut #sukuna x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk x reader smut

75 notes · View notes

stylesharrys · 4 hours

Text

The Box | Part Two [Boxerry]

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

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

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

WC: 14.8k

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

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

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

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

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

Y/N: yeah, I get it x

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

Harry: no stress, come whenever u can x

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

Harry: cool, thank you x

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It only rings once and then he answers.

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

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

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

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

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

“Are you in your car?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What the fuck is going on?”

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

“Tell me what is going on.”

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

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

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

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

“Penny! Stop. Do you trust me?”

She blinks at him. “What?”

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

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

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

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

He’ll be damned if history repeats itself.

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

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

“Okay.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Why?” she cries through laboured breaths.

“Sam owed them money.”

“How much?”

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

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

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

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

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

“—Amira?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’ve known this whole time.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?”

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

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

“So… so we need to leave town.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That wasn’t for you to decide.”

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

“I’m sorry,” she squeaks out.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“We can do other stuff, can’t we?”

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

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

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

“Are you sure?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“M’sorry, baby.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Harry can’t get over the taste of her, wants it staining his tongue for the rest of his life. He reaches a finger down to probe at her hole, pushing in with ease as she clenches around him.

Y/N lets out a muffled moan around his cock, the sound sending vibrations through Harry’s body which makes him twitch against her tongue.

“You’re so fucking sexy,” he mumbles against her cunt, finger curling before he adds a second one and fucks them into her.

Her thighs are trembling from the sides of his head, locking him in slightly to stop him trying to move away. Y/N takes him deeper into her mouth, relaxing her jaw and Harry takes the hint to start bucking his hips into her.

It’s filthy, the noises she makes, the way his cock jabs at the back of her throat. Her pussy grips his fingers like a vice, walls fluttering and he knows she’s close. With his spare hand, Harry strikes a smack to her ass, pawing at the fleshy skin before spanking her again.

She’s positively dripping into his mouth, her body so worked up that she can barely keep consciousness. Her eyes are stinging with tears as he thrusts harsher, effectively restricting her air supply as he does so.

But she’s never been so turned on in her life. Sixty-nine-ing with Harry in the pitch dark.

“Fuck! Baby, I’m gonna come.”

He expects her to pull off him, but she doesn’t. Instead, Y/N forces her mouth further down and sucks, hand reaching between his thighs to massage his balls.

He’s crying out her name as he releases, spurts of warm come shooting down her throat as her own orgasm rakes through her body.

Harry laps it up the best he can, cock still buried down her throat as she comes around his fingers and drips into his mouth. She’s begging for him, whining his name as he removes his fingers and sucks them dry.

She can feel him soften against her tongue, and with as much energy as she can muster up, she pulls off him with a heavy breath.

“Y’okay?”

She hums, a little floaty if she’s honest but it worked. It made her forget and now all she wants to do is sleep.

“Mhm, thank you.”

Harry grins tiredly to himself, helping her off his chest and to lay back beside him. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and plants a gentle kiss to her forehead.

“Let me get you some water.”

Y/N watches him through bleary eyes as his cute, naked bum moves over to the desk across the room. He comes back, soft length still impressive, and hands the bottle to her with the cap undone.

“Here, take a sip,” he guides the bottle to her lips and encourages her to drink before taking a swig for himself.

Harry climbs into the bed beside her, arms outstretched and she’s quick to nuzzle into his hold. He strokes the hair from her face, keeping her close.

“Get some sleep. I promise I’ll still be here in the morning.”

Rustling from outside the hotel room is what stirs Harry awake. He’s groggy as he blinks away the sleep, arms aching from Y/N’s head as she lays cuddled up to his chest.

His heart swells for a moment at the sight of her — and then he hears it again, the noise. There’s whispers and footsteps padding outside the door, three voices.

He’s careful when he stands, not wanting to wake Y/N if he’s just overreacting. But when he levels his eyes with the peephole of the door, his flight or fight kicks in and his heart thumps in his ears.

Harry pulls away from the peephole quickly, back against the door as he tries to remain as silent as humanly possible. Y/N stirs in the bed, reaching out for him but he’s not there to cuddle again.

Her eyes flutter open, brows furrowed as she slowly lifts her head from the pillow in search of him. That’s where she spots him, against the door with a bewildered look in his eyes.

Her mouth opens to speak, but she quickly shuts it when Harry brings a finger to his lips, signalling her to stay quiet. Her heart begins to thump again, bile in her throat and she’s frozen on the bed, sheets clutched close to her naked body.

“Let’s try upstairs,” he hears Ryce say, “They’re not on this floor.”

Harry waits a moment before turning his body to peek through the peephole again. They’re slowly sauntering off down the hall, clicking the button for the elevator and stepping inside shortly after. He turns back to Y/N, chest heaving and eyes wide.

“Penny, get dressed. We need to leave, now.”

It’s a rush, to get dressed and throw everything haphazardly into Harry’s backpack. Their hearts patter wildly, breathing ragged as fear consumes the pair of them.

It’s frantic, how he looks at her, keeping her behind his back as he slowly opens the door to peek his head out. He scans the hall, straining his ears for any sound of movement and when he falls short, he very quickly and quietly tugs her out of the hotel room.

Harry leads them to the staircase, trainers skidding across the linoleum floors with every step they jump down.

“They found us, didn’t they?” she asks through laboured breaths.

He doesn’t reply, instead tightens his hold on her hand and forces her to move quicker, taking three steps at a time instead of two and she struggles to keep up with his long strides.

Harry pushes through the door of the stairs, not slowing as they race through reception and out into the cool air of the early morning. It’s then that they break into a sprint across the parking lot to reach Harry’s Chevy.

Then they hear footsteps, the door of the hotel building slamming shut. Harry throws a glance over his shoulder, catching sight of the three lunatics that are after them.

They’re slowly approaching, picking up their pace as Harry and Y/N get closer to the car. He unlocks it from a distance and throws the backpack to Y/N.

He turns to her, finger pointing in her face. “Lock yourself in the car. If they get the upper hand, you drive and you don’t look back.”

The look on his face scares her, rattles her to her core. She tries to shake her head but Harry’s shoving the keys in the palm of her hand and pushing her closer to the vehicle.

The three of them grab him at once; Ryce and Scott holding him by the arms and shoulders as the bigger man, George, throws punches against his stomach. The sight of it makes her sick, has her knees buckling and heart aching.

Nimble fingers struggle to open the car, brain fuzzy as she rushes to throw the bags in the back seats. Y/N shuts the door behind her, locking the car again as her chest rises and falls with every shaky break she takes.

It’s torture, watching as they beat him – the way they pin his arms back and take advantage of his inability to fight back. He takes every hit and punch like a man, doesn’t allow his guard to falter no matter how hard the strikes may hurt.

And it’s like they see that, too. Like they notice it’ll take a lot more than a few blows to ruin him. Maybe that’s why George relents his assault for a moment and fixes his gaze to the car – to Y/N, cowering in the backseats like a lamb ready for slaughter.

And it’s when he slowly begins to stalk toward her that Harry’s heart begins to thump a little too hard. It’s when George starts to bash his hands against the backseat window that he starts to burn a fueling fire of rage.

He struggles against the hold that Scott and Ryce have over him, unable to tear his arms out of reach. Until he hears her scream and the backseat window smashing.

Y/N can’t breathe, heart lodged in her throat and tears stinging at her vision. She watches completely frozen as George reaches his hand in and unlocks the door. Watches the sadistic smirk that plasters across his lips as he opens the door and reaches for her ankles.

“No! Get off of me!”

Her screams are futile, her body breaking into hysterical movements. Her legs kick harshly at his grabbing hands, her foot striking his throat which allows her barely a few seconds to search for something, anything.

Y/N’s eyes avert to the footwell of the passenger's seat when she sees it. A crowbar. Her fingers wrap around the metal at the same time George’s wrap around her ankles. She’s pulled from the backseats, back crashing onto the concrete of the parking lot. And in one swift motion, her arm swings forward and the curve of the bar wraps around the side of George’s head.

In an instant, his heavy build falls off her – collapsing onto his side. She waits for a beat, her eyes wide and searching for any sign of life. There’s no blood, no sound. Tentatively and with trembling hands, she leans closer to his still body and poises her fingers beneath his nose.

One breath. Two, three.

She clambers away from him with a deep breath, unsteady as she rises to her feet. She’s allowed no time to process the situation, to calm herself. Because right before her eyes, Harry is fighting for his freedom.

This time, Ryce has Harry’s arms pinned behind his back, looping with his own and Scott delivers much harder blows to Harry’s face and torso. His legs kick out, arms thrashing in Ryce’s hold but it doesn’t do much damage.

Tightening her grasp around the crowbar, Y/N doesn’t quite know what comes over her. Whether it’s fear, anger or something entirely different. Whatever it is, compels her to swing the crowbar across the backs of Ryce’s legs – the shock and force of the blow buckling his knees just enough for his hold on Harry to relent.

Y/N doesn’t give him time to turn before she jumps onto his back with her legs around his waist and the crowbar wrapped around his throat. Her body moulds to his like a bear hug, an unknown strength unleashing itself in a desperate attempt to keep him from Harry just long enough to regain his strength.

And Harry doesn’t waste a moment of the opportunity. His fist beats against Scott’s face in rhythmic blows until his body is on the ground and he can’t fight back. Harry’s knuckles stain with blood and grazes, delivering a final pinch to the bridge of Scott’s nose before climbing off his bruised body.

His chest heaves, every breath feeling as though it tears his lungs. Harry spits the build up of blood in his mouth on the floor, rolling his shoulders back and flexing his fingers before they return to their fisted state.

Ryce is red in the face, fingers wrapping around the crowbar that Y/N pulls against his throat. The anger in her face is starling to Harry, something he’s never seen before — not even in himself. A hatred so pure it could kill.

Harry approaches them quickly as Ryce throws back his elbow and it meets with the side of Y/N’s stomach. All at once, her hold on the crowbar and him falters and she’s sliding off his back and doubling over on the concrete.

Ryce throws a punch but Harry is quick to dodge, despite the fact he’s still attempting to catch his breath. Before he rises, he reaches for the crowbar and swings it against the side of Ryce’s body.

He seethes out in pain, struggles to stand straight to fight back. He messily throws his fist, easier for Harry to dodge this time and he returns it with another blow across his knees with the crowbar.

Harry throws it to the side, watching with heavy breaths as Ryce tries to steady himself again. Harry doesn’t give him the chance. He squares his fist against the side of his face and he pummels to the ground.

It’s silent for a moment, aside from Harry’s rapid breathing and Y/N’s soft whimpers as she clutches her stomach and steadies herself on her feet again.

Harry backs away from the mess they’ve created, guilt crawling up his throat as he turns to look at her. There’s a cold expression painted across her face, eyes void of anything other than a predatory gaze.

She’s got the look of someone who’s desperate to survive. That’s what this is now, sink or swim. And she knows it.

They don’t share any words, just a look. But that’s all that’s needed. That one look says everything. They’re in this together — it’s them against anyone who tries it.

It’s silent as they both get into the car, Harry picking his keys up from the floor before he starts the engine.

It’s silent when they pull out of the car park, the sound of the cold air whipping through the shattered window in the backseats.

It’s silent until Y/N finally speaks. “Where are we going?”

Harry waits a beat, eyes focussed on the road. He can’t bring himself to look at her, to be faced with her expressionless gaze again. So he looks forward, grips the wheel and clears his throat.

“To see an old friend.”

His body is beginning to hurt as he pulls into the familiar garage. It’s been a while since Harry’s been here and everything looks the exact same as it did last time.

He kills the engine, lets his hands slip from the wheel and he finally turns to Y/N, who’s already looking at him. She takes him in, properly. The cuts and bruises that begin to form on his soft skin, the bags that protrude under his eyes from lack of sleep and a couple of punches he caught.

It hurts her heart to no end. She wishes none of this was happening.

“Are you okay?” he finally speaks, voice soft.

She nods, but they both know she’s not. Not really.

“Are you?”

He huffs out a small laugh and reaches for her hand that sits in her lap. “I’ve been better.”

She doesn’t understand it — how he always has the energy to try to make light out of any situation. Y/N looks away briefly, taking in the surroundings of the garage.

It’s like any other she’s been to. A few old cars spread across the place, some that are very clearly undrivable and others that she thinks probably only needed a quick fix.

Her brows pinch when she thinks about why they’re here. Is a blown back window really what’s important right now? She looks back to Harry with parted lips, but he already knows what she’s going to say.

“It’s my friend's garage. He’ll be able to help with more than just a smashed window.”

Y/N nods curtly, unsure if she’s understanding what he’s letting on. She also doesn’t have any suggestions as to what the fuck else they could do to help them out of this situation, so she puts all her trust in him and this unknown friend, and prays that her brother will keep them as safe as he can.

Her eyes look forward again, noticing a man and woman emerging from a wide door to the left. She looks back to Harry, a smile on his face as he opens the door and clambers out.

Y/N follows suit, shrinking into herself a little as the two unfamiliar faces grow closer.

“No call?” the man speaks loudly, arms across his chest.

Harry shrugs, walking closer. “No time.”

A smile breaks across the man’s face as he and Harry meet in a brotherly embrace. They’re squeezing tight, smacking each other’s backs until the man pulls away and gets a look at his friends face.

“Christ, H… did you even get a hit in?”

Harry smacks him in the chest and moves slightly to greet the woman. “Hey, Ashley. How’ve you been?”

She offers him a small hug and smiles. “Better than you it appears.”

Harry pulls away with a seemingly shy smile, turning back to Y/N who remains hovering by the Chevy. He points to her with an open palm. “Penny, this is Ashley and Jimmy. Guys, this is Y/N… Sammy’s sister.”

A heavy silence falls upon the shop – so quiet they’d be able to hear a pin drop. She offers a half wave, pursed lips and teary eyes. Harry is quick to make his way by her side again, an arm wrapped loosely around her waist to offer some form of reassurance.

“Jimmy and Sam used to knock about together,” he tells her. “Jim’s actually the one that found the club and convinced Sammy to take it on.”

He offers a polite smile and wave but there’s nothing but pity in his eyes. “I’m sorry for your loss. Sam was a one-of-a-kind kid.”

She nods, doesn’t want to reminisce on her late brother. Not right now. Not after the morning they’ve had.

Harry clears his throat and scratches at the nape of his neck. “M’sorry to throw it on you guys, but d’you mind if we crash for the night? We’re in a bit of a mess right now.”

There’s no hesitation when both Jimmy and Ashley nod their heads. “Of course, stay as long as you need. Come on upstairs, I’m just about to fix up some lunch, you guys can get cleaned up.”

Harry follows them through the garage, hand on Y/N’s lower back to guide her through. She stays close to him, far too on edge to be as trusting as Harry. She has to remind herself that they were also Sammy’s friends. And he didn’t put his trust in just anybody.

“Thank you, I promise we’ll be out of your hair by morning.”

Their apartment above the garage is nice. It’s rustic and chic at the same time and Y/N finds herself drawn to the canvases that litter the walls in the hall and living room.

Jimmy seems to notice. “They’re Ash’s,” he says with a smile. “She’s a wicked artist.”

Y/N hums, a small smile painting its way on her own lips. She’s desperately trying to ignore the dull ache in the side of her stomach, tries to play it off like every breath isn’t hindering her in some small way.

They follow through to the kitchen, the same sort of vibe with a wooden kitchen island and black, steel stools. Harry guides her to take a seat and sits himself beside her, both watching Ash as she pours them each a cup of coffee.

“Did the Chevy take as much damage as you?”

Harry scoffs out a laugh and takes a sip of his drink. “Still as mouthy as ever,” he quips back. “But no, she’s just fine – apart from the back window. That got smashed to fuck.”

Y/N watches them back and forth, how they talk with such ease, like the past twelve hours didn’t happen. It has her head spinning, has her second-guessing that Harry isn’t taking this as seriously as he made her believe.

She stands abruptly from her stool, the steel screeching across the hardwood floors. All eyes fall on her and she gulps. “Can I use your bathroom?”

Ashley nods, pointing to the door just down the hall. Y/N mumbles a quiet ‘thanks’ before rushing off and pressing her back behind the locked door.

She just needs a moment. A moment to think and breathe. This is all way too much for her to handle right now and she’s never felt so alone in her entire life. It hurts her heart, her head – everything. Tears are stinging at her waterline, threatening to spill over but she wills them not to.

A small knock on the door is heard and then… “Penny? It’s me.”

Y/N swallows down her feelings and unlocks the door. Harry lets himself in; worrisome eyes and tender hands on her arms as he closes the door behind him.

“Y’okay? I know this is all probably scaring you.”

She stares at him blankly. “Scaring me? Harry, I’m fucking terrified and you’re out there laughing without a care in the world, having a catchup with an old friend, while I’m just silently freaking the fuck out.”

He coos her, pulls her into his chest and ignores the pain he feels as he holds her close. “M’sorry, m’just trying to forget about it all for a moment. I’m not going to let anything happen to you, I swear.”

Her breathing is erratic against his chest, hands balling fists of his shirt on his back. Harry strokes the hair from her face and kisses her temple, shushing her the best he can to try and encourage her to steady her breathing.

“I’m sorry,” she mumbles into him.

Harry shakes his head. “You’ve got nothing to apologise for. Why don’t you go for a nap, hmm? Jimmy’s gonna take a look at the damage on the window and I’m gonna talk him through everything that’s happened… see if he has any ideas.”

While a nap does sound good, Y/N’s not sure she’ll be able to switch her mind off. She doesn’t tell Harry that, though. She figures he’s also got enough on his mind, he doesn’t need to be dealing with her fussing all because she can’t sleep.

So she nods her head and pulls out of his embrace. “Yeah, okay. A nap sounds good.”

It turns out it wasn’t as hard to fall asleep as Y/N thought it would be. As it goes, severe stress and exhaustion happen to have that effect when the adrenaline wears off.

Ashley was kind enough to lend Y/N a spare top and some sweatpants, washing her previous clothes so they would be clean and dry for when they leave tomorrow. She stretches in the bed of the guestroom, eyes flickering to the clock that reads 17:08 and her eyes widen.

She didn’t expect for a little nap to turn into five hours of sleep and she’s slightly upset that Harry didn’t think to wake her. Her stomach grumbles and it’s only now that she realises she hasn’t eaten in just over twenty-four hours.

Her fluffy sock-clad feet carry her out into the hall, light chit-chat coming from the very end and she follows to the source of it.

They all sit at the kitchen island; Jimmy, Ashley and Harry. There’s a frown set between each of their eyebrows but Harry’s soothes out when he notices Y/N’s lingering presence by the doorway.

“Hey, are you feeling any better?”

She hums. “A little.”

He pulls out a chair for her to take, Jimmy and Ashley quietly talking between themselves as Y/N sits with them. Harry offers her his drink and she takes the glass in her hands, swirling the brown liquid as she brings it to her lips.

“It’s whis—“

She gulps down his drink before he can even finish — doesn’t even care what it is just that any drop of alcohol will do for now.

He stifles a laugh and takes back the empty glass, reaching for the bottle on the middle of the table to refill his drink.

“What are you talking about?” she asks, all eyes now on her.

Harry clears his throat. “Just trying to figure out how to get rid of the guys that are after us.”

She raises a brow, somewhat expectant. “Any luck?”

“No, not yet.” She hears a voice, her eyes following the sound to Harry’s phone that’s on the kitchen island, Niall’s contact on the screen.

“Oh,” she peeps quietly. “Hi, Niall.”

“Hey, Y/N. How are you holding up?”

She scoffs. “About as well as Bambi on ice.”

He laughs at her comment, a hearty one at that. Harry smiles softly at her, can feel the nerves and anxiety bubbling off her aura in waves. It hurts to see her like this, so curled into herself and scared.

“So, let’s lay it all out again,” Ashley speaks a little louder.

Harry and Jimmy lean forward in their seats simultaneously. “As far as we’re aware, it’s just the three of them; the brothers—“

“—Wait, they’re brothers?” Y/N pipes up with knitted brows.

Harry nods. “Mhm. A lot of the guys that train at The Box were in gangs, the Scavello brothers were rivals to a bunch of them. They’ve all got screws loose, multiple personality disorders.”

“And schizophrenia. The worst case of it.” Niall chips in.

The newfound information does nothing to cease her fears. If anything, it only intensifies tenfold and Y/N begins to find it difficult to breathe.

“Right,” Harry swallows thickly. “So it’s the three brothers, all hellbent on getting revenge for Sammy not paying them they’re thirty grand. We already know they won’t stop until they get the club or feel… satisfied enough to move on.”

There’s something about the way Harry words it that makes Y/N shiver. She doesn’t know how much longer of this she can take, how much more dangerous it’ll get. At what point will they feel satisfied? When they’re run out of town? When they’re beaten and bloody? When they’re six feet under like her brother?

“They’re known for a lot of shady shit, too. Few years ago Ryce had stabbed someone in a pub… pretty sure he’s still on the wanted list.” Niall speaks again, like that’s the worst thing they’ve ever done.

Y/N has to bite her tongue. She doesn’t know if they’re aware of the truth about Sam’s death. And if they’re not, she isn’t about to announce it. She won’t allow for him to be remembered as the guy they killed.

Not now. Not ever.

“So have you not thought about tipping off the police?” Ashley asks, slightly incredulous as if it’s the most obvious option there is. (Which in all honesty, Y/N completely agrees with).

But Jimmy shakes his head profusely, clasping his hands together on the kitchen island. “No, no way. The Feds are already suspecting the club of illegal activity. It’s just going to give them more ammo. This needs to be dealt with in-house.” He points his finger downward, tapping against the counter.

Y/N chews on the inside of her cheek, the gears ticking in her head as she thinks of an alternative idea.

“What about a set up?” she suggests. “We meet them somewhere and… Ash, maybe you could call in and say you’ve driven past a group of guys attacking a couple…. If they get arrested it could give us some time to figure out something more solid?”

She knows it’s a lame idea, but it’s something. No one else seems to be putting theories to the table.

And of course, Harry is the first to shake his head. “No, too dangerous and they won’t fall for that. They’re insane but they’re not stupid.”

She slumps at his words, slightly offended by his tone but she doesn’t let herself get into that. Really, Harry’s distaste to her idea is the least of anyone’s concerns right now.

All eyes fall on the phone in the centre of the table, “Any ideas, Ni?”

He’s silent for a moment, then a huff is heard. “Personally, I think the best option will be to come back to the club. They’re gonna riot at some point. Might aswel be prepared for it. We’ll get the boys in tomorrow and figure out a plan between the lot of us.”

It’s a bit annoying that the simplest of ideas doesn’t suck. That logically, it’s probably the smartest and safest move to make. Because Niall is right. Eventually, the brothers will riot the club, and what the fuck are three psychos against a gym full of angry boxers?

The doorbell sounds through the kitchen and pulls Y/N from her thoughts. Jimmy stands, legs of his stool scratching against the floor as he grabs his wallet from his back pocket.

“Let’s call it a night then. Pizzas here. We’ll regroup tomorrow.”

The mention of food almost has Y/N’s mouth watering. They say their goodbyes to Niall, no one’s stress easing in the slightest but at least they have somewhat of a plan and she doesn’t feel so alone anymore.

Those boys at the gym would fight tooth and nail to protect Sam’s legacy. She just prays that it’ll be enough.

Not much is said as they eat their dinner. Harry and Jimmy reminisce on a few memories with Ash chiming in here and there, but for the most part Y/N stays silent and focuses on her food.

They stay like that for another hour or so until Harry’s eyelids grow heavy and start to sting. He’s exhausted, to say the least. His body still aches and as he glances over at Y/N, he can tell that the five hour nap has only made her more tired.

He leans closer to her, lips ghosting her ear. “D’you wanna go to bed?”

She turns her head just slightly to get a look at him. His face is a lot more busted as the night has gone on and the sleepiness that takes over his features pinches her heart a little.

Nodding her head, she stifles a yawn. “Yeah, you look pretty tired, too.”

Harry grins as he rolls his eyes, leaning away from her now to finish the last of his whiskey. He places the glass back on the counter, clearing his throat to catch Ash and Jim’s attention.

“We’re going to head to bed, long day tomorrow.”

Jimmy puffs out his cheeks with an exhale, nodding solemnly. Y/N gets it, can practically feel the anxiety that rolls off him. While he’s good at masking his expressions, there’s not much he can do about his vibe.

“Yeah, yeah, no worries. You know where everything is if you need anything.”

Harry guides Y/N off her stool and down the hall again after saying goodnight to the others. They don’t bother to turn on the light, instead opt for blindly feeling for the bed with their legs and Harry helps her get comfy.

She expects him to round the bed and crawl in next to her, but he doesn’t. Instead, he brushes the hair from her face and stands back with a gentle smile as he regards her.

Y/N’s brows pinch together when he speaks. “I’ll be next door if you need me.”

“Why?” she asks.

“Why what?”

“Why aren’t you staying here with me?”

He smiles softly, shuffling closer to the foot of the bed again. “Didn’t want to assume, that’s all.”

It makes him feel something deep in his stomach — how she craves his presence and wants him close. There’s a swell of something similar to pride in his chest at the realisation of how deep her trust for him runs.

“D’you want me to stay, Penny?”

She sinks further into the bed, seemingly trying to hide half of her face from his gaze. “Only if you want to,” she replies.

Harry’s smile grows slightly and he nods his head, kicking off his shoes and shimmying out of his jeans. She watches, rather closely. He’s right beside her still as he strips down to his boxers before he closes the door and approaches the other side of the bed.

The sheets are cool against his warm skin, small hisses and grunts slipping from his lips at the discomfort in his ribs and abdomen. It makes Y/N feel funny, knowing just how hurt he must be. She was witness to the assault, she’s a little surprised how well he’s taking it.

She has to remind herself that he is a boxer. And a fucking good one at that.

Y/N turns onto her side, her face just a couple of inches from Harry as their eyes adjust to the darkness, desperately trying to map out the others face under the dim moonlight that threatens to peek through the curtains.

Her ankles rub together as they do every night as she tries to settle herself for bed. Something she’s done ever since she was young. Harry can feel the movement beneath the sheets, but to him, he reads it as a sign of feeling cold. So he shuffles a little closer and intertwines their legs, resting a heavy palm on her hip.

“Harry,” she whispers into the night and he’s already looking at her.

“Yeah?”

She waits a moment, unsure if there’s any use in admitting her quarries right now. There’s nothing he can do or say to soothe her, not with the mess that awaits them.

And yet she finds herself uttering it anyway. “I’m scared.”

The broken octave of her voice is felt deep in Harry’s chest, that primal and protective sensation kicking in again. It makes his brows twist in something that can only be described as annoyance. But it’s not directed at her, Harry doesn’t think it ever could be.

“I don’t see an end where we all make it out of this.”

The admittance she whispers aloud is frightening to her. As if speaking her fear is willing its existence to the universe. It has her cowering into herself with shaky breaths and eyes tightly shut.

“We will,” Harry speaks, not allowing a second of doubt to build in her pretty little head. “I’ll make sure of it.”

Her eyes peak open slowly, readjusting to the darkness again when Harry slowly inches closer until the tip of his nose nudges against hers.

“Before Sammy died, he always told me to look out for you — in case anything ever happened to him. I keep my promises, Penny. No matter what it takes.”

She believes him, wholeheartedly. She trusts that he’ll keep her safe, that he’ll fight for the club. The blanket of safety that comes with Harry’s presence begins to consume her — keeps her close and warm and respected.

Maybe that’s why her eyes begin to droop until she can no longer keep them open. She cuddles into his chest, face nuzzling in the crook of his warm neck and his scent envelopes her senses as she slips into a slumber.

Harry can feel her soft breathing even out until her body relaxes against his. He lays awake, admiring the slope of her nose and her lashes that flatten across her cheekbones.

The need and desire to keep her safe prevails over any other senses. His mind falls short when he considers what he wouldn’t do to protect her, to give her the life she deserves.

And it’s not because Sam asked him to.

When the sun rises and the moon rests, the tension they felt the day before returns full force. Few words are shared between the four of them as they prepare for the day ahead. It’s like nobody wants to state the obvious, that this could very well be the last time Jimmy and Ashley see Harry and Y/N.

She tries her best not to think about it, not to get too deep in her head. She’s brushing her teeth in the bathroom, eyes lacking their usual glint but that’s no surprise — she doesn’t think it’s been there since Sammy’s death.

A knock on the door breaks her gaze from her reflection. Harry leans on the door frame, arms folded over his chest as he offers the young woman a soft smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Jimmy’s just finished replacing the window. We’re good to go whenever you’re ready.”

He keeps his voice light and soft, not wanting to pressure her when their situation is already stressful enough. She nods her head slowly at his words, rinsing off the toothbrush under the water.

“Yeah, okay. Uh, just give me a minute?”

“Sure. I’ll be downstairs when you’re ready.”

He leaves her in the bathroom, bounding down the stairs as he returns to his friends in the garage. Jimmy’s wiping his hands on an old rag before flinging it across his shoulder.

“She’s all set, changed out your back tire, too. Looked like it was about to blow.”

Their hands meet in a greeting, chests bumping in that brosome hug most guys do. Harry sits his hands on his hips as he takes a look at the Chevy. As good as new, he thinks.

“Man, I appreciate you and Ash helping us out. You really saved our asses last night.”

Jimmy waves his hand in dismissal as he shakes his head. “Don’t worry about it, it’s what brothers do.”

There’s an appreciative smile on Harry’s face as the door opens again and Y/N’s body shuffles through. Even from across the garage, he can see that glimmer of uncertainty in her eyes.

She approaches quickly, and by the way her shoulders are slightly raised and head a little ducked, Harry can tell she’s anxious.

He holds an arm in the air for her, allowing her to settle into his side before resting the arm across her shoulders.

“Thank you, for everything,” she says just loud enough for Jimmy to hear.

He nods curtly, leaning forward on one foot with an open palm for her to shake. “It was lovely meeting you, Y/N. I’m just sorry it was under these circumstances.”

She smiles through pursed lips and shakes his head with the same pressure he offers. “Me too.”

She excuses herself to load the bags into the back of the Chevy and waits for Harry in the passenger's seat. Y/N watches them chatter quietly, the mention of Ashley being at work and that if they need anything to not hesitate to call.

It’s merely a couple of minutes before Harry joins her in the car, twisting the key to start up the engine and as he pulls out of the garage, he throws his arm out of his window to wave goodbye to Jimmy.

They share a look as they drive down the road, a nervous glance that promises they’re in this together. Harry reaches for her hand in her lap and intertwines their fingers.

She doesn’t say anything as he guides their hands to his mouth and presses a kiss on her knuckles. And he doesn’t say anything when she squeezes his a little tighter.

They remain silent for the most of their drive. It’s late afternoon by the time they arrive at the club and it’s safe to say their guards are up high. They’re eyes are scanning every inch of roads they drive through, hearts thumping in fear and anticipation.

But they don’t see anything.

Harry pulls up outside, putting the car in park and they both exit. There’s an eerie energy that surrounds them, like the universe is taunting and playing on their fears.

They can’t ignore it, even if they tried.

They enter through the back door, feet scuffling against the concrete ground as Harry guides her through. Niall had already rounded up the guys with the prompt of a family meeting taking place. So it’s no surprise that they’re already gathered by one of the boxing rings.

“Thank you all for coming,” Harry calls out to everyone as he and Y/N make their way closer to the group.

There’s a few mumbles of replies and gasps at the sight of Harry’s bruised face, and lots of nodding heads when they come to a stop before them.

“I’m sure you’re all familiar with the Scavello brothers and what they did to Sammy,” a chorus of disgruntled expressions appear throughout the faces of the group.

Y/N can’t look — keeps her eyes downcast on the floor.

“Well, they’re no longer in hiding. They’re back and they’re after us,” he sways his finger between himself and Y/N, “And this club.”

Niall steps forward, inching closer to the pair who regard the larger group. “We don’t know what’s going to happen, but everyone needs to be prepared in case something does.”

Harry watches the way his members nod their heads and clench knuckles into fists. He can feel the anger and heartbreak that resonates within the gym.

“I need every single one of you on guard in case they show up. This is Sam’s life here. And we’re going to protect it like it’s our own. Understood?”

It’s been four days.

Four long, gruelling days of looking over their shoulders and Y/N keeping her keys between her fingers whenever she goes to and from her car alone. Not that that’s been a regular thing, Harry had convinced her to stay with him and his place. And after a bit of compromise, Harry agreed to stay at Y/N’s so she wasn’t on her own.

And it was a bit awkward at first. She didn’t ask for him to stay in her bedroom with her, allowed him to turn the sofa into his temporary bed. But by the second day, the awkwardness evened out to a disturbingly, comfortable, domesticated situation.

Y/N cooked and Harry cleaned. They picked shows to watch together and neither left the house alone. Y/N remains on emergency leave for a week, but Harry’s assured her that when she returns, he’ll drop her off and pick her up.

There won’t be a chance for the same thing to happen again.

Today is no different. They woke up together, picked at their breakfast — both still struggling to find their appetite — and drove in Harry’s Chevy to the club this afternoon.

It’s nearing 5:30 p.m. and they’re both sitting together in the office. Y/N’s sipping on her coffee with a Manila folder in hand, Harry typing data into the computer while taking sips of his own blend every now and then.

“Do you think it’s a good idea to host fight nights with all this going on?”

Harry pauses his typing for a moment, head tilting as he looks at her. He hums, nods slowly. “You’re probably right, we’re just losing money each night that we don’t. The guys are gonna start getting frustrated. For a lot of ‘em it’s the only source of income they’ve got.”

It’s a tricky one, Y/N knows that. Their livelihood is important, but so is their safety. It seems more likely that the Scavello brothers would make an appearance on a busy night like tonight. Friday Fight Night.

A thought occurs to her. “What about an advance?”

Harry’s bows knit together. “An advance?”

“Yeah,” she nods. “We’ve got just over two hundred grand stashed under the floorboards, Har. We can offer an advance to those who need it — they can pay back in instalments when we start up fights again.”

He mulls the idea over for a few seconds, not really finding many cons to the proposal. He nods his head, digging through the draws of the desk for a notepad and pen.

“Want me to go and take names?”

Harry shakes his head. “We need to get this place looking legit first. Destroy anything that holds passwords, account numbers — anything that tries back to the illegal fights. If they or the Feds come snooping, our noses are clean and they have nothing to say otherwise.”

Y/N’s about to reply, to suggest burning any correlating paperwork when a ruckus from outside the office and in the gym is heard.

They look at one another, eyes wide and churning stomachs. Harry stands first, bringing a finger to his lips as he motions for Y/N to stay quiet. The ruckus gets a bit louder, a chorus of disgruntled sounds heard.

Harry inches toward the door first, an arm outstretched to his side in an attempt to keep Y/N behind him. She follows suit, hands trembling slightly and she struggles to see over his broad shoulders.

But Harry can see. He sees the three brothers, but they’re not alone. They’ve brought a posse with them and their hands are all equipped with anything you could think to use as a weapon.

Hammers, knives, baseball bats. If it wasn’t such a dire situation, he’d find it ironic that Ryce is gripping a crowbar.

He’s the first to notice Harry’s presence and his blood is quick to run cold. He taps at Y/N’s side, trying his best to buff out his body to shield hers from their view.

“Stay in the office and lock the door. Text Jimmy and get rid of everything.”

He shoves her backward slightly, reaching for the door handle to close it behind him. She locks the door with nimble fingers, racing around the desk to retrieve Harry’s phone and find Jimmy’s contact.

It’s Y/N. They’re here.

She drops the phone on the desk after sending the message, opening the bottom drawer of the filing cabinet. She can’t stop her hands from trembling, has to continuously replay the plan in her head.

Jimmy calls the police which gives Y/N time to destroy anything illegal while Harry fights them off just long enough for the police to arrive, and everyone prays that nobody gets hurt or killed in the meantime.

No matter how many times she reminds herself of the plan, it doesn’t soothe her fears. Anything could go wrong at any given moment.

It’s not just the three of them this time, they brought friends and it’s going to get messy.

She grabs Harry’s gym bag from the corner of the room and collapses to her knees by the desk. Her fingernails struggle to pry the floorboards up until she spots a flat-headed screwdriver poking out from the gym's tool bag.

It works to her advantage, a few good tugs and pulls and the floorboard pops up with a creak. She’s careful when she pulls it out completely, throwing it to the side and grabbing handfuls of the wads of cash.

Her movements are frantic as she shoves them into the duffle bag, the commotion from outside growing louder and louder. She fills the bag with the money and rushes to take off her jacket, throwing it into the bag to hide the cash and she zips it up, kicking it under the table and smacking her floorboard back in place.

Y/N moves to the filing cabinet, fumbling through the drawers in the desk for a lighter. The papers she retrieved earlier are thrown into the trash can, fingers desperate to spark a light but a thumping on the office door stops her — panics her.

It bursts open after the fourth budge, hinges almost flying off and there he stands, Ryce Scavello, bloody and bruised and gripping a crowbar.

All colour drains from her skin, a sickness within her stomach that’s all-consuming. There’s a maniacal smirk painted across his thin lips and the mark across his neck from her use of the aforementioned weapon still paints his skin deeply.

“Are you going to put up a fight as good as your brother?”

That fear morphs into anger the second the words escape his mouth, her eyes dark and blood cold. She flicks the lighter once more and it sparks a tall flame, and just as he’s about to step toward her, she throws it into the trash and the documents burn in a blaze.

Y/N dodges the first swing he throws, the curled edge of the crowbar nipping at her hair and pulling a few strands out of her ponytail. She can hear her heartbeat in her ears as she ducks from another hit and he laughs at her, sadistically.

“Well you’re certainly as fast as him. Did he teach you that, hmm? Did big brother Sammy teach you how to fight before I killed him?”

She does her best to block out his words, raising her fists to cover her face and her legs spread in the same stance Sam had taught her growing up.

She channels him, everything he ever showed her. She lets her brain reminisce about their occasional sparring sessions because Sam was hellbent on teaching her the right ways to defend herself.

Back then she always told him he was being dramatic, that she’d never put herself in a situation where she’d need to fight for her life.

And now, she can hear his reply in her ears, as clear as day: These situations find you, and you need to be prepared for them.

Ryce lunges for her again, catching her in the temple with his fist at the same time she kicks into his kneecap. The crunch of his bone is heard but it doesn’t stop him.

He somehow gets closer and wraps his hand around her throat, a vice-like grip as he slams her body onto the desk and knocks everything off, her and Harry’s coffees spilling on the floor.

Y/N thrashes her legs against him, fingernails scratching at the skin of his face as her thumbs probe harshly into his eyes. Ryce’s grip loosens just enough for her to try to shuffle away, but his hand is replaced with the crowbar and he’s choking her out like she did to him.

He’s seething above her, her own hands now desperate on the bar to try to pull it off, to give herself relief. It doesn’t work, he’s overpowering in every sense and the lack of oxygen she gets makes it harder to move.

Y/N’s eyes are frantically searching for something — anything — to use to her advantage. Her line of sight falls short until she notices the large metal stapler that’s hanging off the edge of the desk. She pries her fingers out as she stretches for it, nails scratching against the metal until she’s able to flick it closer.

The second she’s able to wrap her fingers around the stapler, her arm swings and it thuds heavily against the side of Ryce’s head. Once, twice, three times.

His hold on the crowbar across her throat loosens until he drops it onto the floor. Y/N’s gasping for air, eyes wide and chest heaving as he holds the side of his head in agony.

That’s how Harry finds them — Ryce on top of her on the desk, grunting in pain and anger. He doesn’t allow him another moment to regain himself before Harry swings for the side of his face and Ryce’s body clambers to the floor and off Y/N.

She’s frantic, struggling to grasp reality as Harry reaches her. His hands find her face, gentle touch as he coos to her, promises her it’s okay and he’s got her.

She gets a look at him, bloody and bruised and his bottom lip is split and already swelling. Y/N sits up with the help of Harry at the sounds of blaring sirens and she turns to him, swallowing thickly.

“Grab the money, we need to go.”

Her gaze meets the unconscious body on the floor, anxiety still bubbling in her chest at the realisation that in a few short minutes, this could be completely over with.

Harry reaches for the bag of money when he notices the trash can on fire. He doesn’t need to ask to know she’s burned the documents. They leave the contained fire to burn as they leave the office, both hobbling and gasping for breath.

Police begin to infiltrate the gym, batons in hand and guards to their bodies — as they would for any kind of riot. There’s at least seven officers, all shouting commands to get on the ground or stay where they are.

The gym is in distress. Photo frames and trophies on shelves have been smashed and broken, weights are strewn across the floor, some clean and some with blood. Their hands all reach into the air in a form of surrender and before long, the majority of the trainers and rioters are in cuffs.

An officer approaches Y/N and Harry, quite polite as he assures them he isn’t going to cuff them unless given reason.

“A few of your friends said you two are the owners?”

Harry nods, clearing his throat. “Yeah, that’s right. We were in the office when they showed up and then a fight broke out.”

The officer squints at Y/N and she squints back, reading his name tag as Jones. He looks back to Harry.

“Who’s they?”

“Ryce, George and Scott Scavello. They’re brothers.”

Officer Jones raises an eyebrow at Y/N’s words. “You know them?”

“Uh, we’ve had some trouble with them in the past.”

Y/N’s head snaps to look at Harry, wonders what the fuck he’s going to tell the police, if it’s really a good idea to mention what they did to Sammy. Couldn’t Harry get into trouble for withholding evidence about a crime for all this time?

Jones clears his throat. “Do you wanna expand on that?”

Y/N decides to speak up again. “My brother, Sam, owned this place with Harry before he died. The Scavello brothers tried to join the gym but Sam didn’t want that kind of riffraff associated with the company. They didn’t take it well and now, I guess this is them fighting it.”

Harry watches her with fluttering eyes, slightly amazed and somewhat concerned with how easily she was able to fabricate part of the truth like that.

Officer Jones nods as he jotts down a rough summary of her words, looking to Harry in case he has anything more to offer.

He blubbers for a moment. “Uh, yeah… what she said.”

He writes a little more, turning to look over his shoulder to no doubt report anything extra he may need to. It’s only for a couple of seconds, which allows Y/N and Harry to share a look that screams don’t say anything stupid, and he’s back to facing them again.

“So, you say you’re the owners?”

Harry and Y/N nod simultaneously, eyes downcast to somewhat avoid the officers gaze. He hums, scribbling some more.

“Do you have proof of that?”

Harry nods. “Yeah, I can get you the ownership contract.”

Y/N watches meticulously, tries to work out what Officer Jones is writing by the way he scribbles but it’s no use. He taps the pen on the pad, looking around.

“Do you have any security footage? So we can confirm your story.”

Y/N looks at Harry. Do they? She hopes there isn’t a camera in the office, or else they’ll find the footage of her burning illegal evidence. But if they have cameras in the gym, isn’t that going to expose the fight nights? Her head is spinning.

“Yeah…. Niall!” Harry calls over for the blond, who quickly jogs over with a bruised eye and a cut across the bridge of his nose.

“Ni, would you mind showing Officer Jones the security footage from this evening.”

Y/N swallows thickly, watching as Niall guides Jones into the trashed office. She smacks Harry’s arm, eyes wide when he turns to her with pinched brows.

“Ouch… what was that for?”

She grits her teeth. “Why have you done that? He’s going to find all sorts on the cameras!”

Harry lets out a soft laugh and shakes his head. “We turn the cameras off at night.”

He watches her body visibly relax; shoulders slumping and eyes dropping. From their spot by the office, they can see the damage that’s been done.

Blood stains the floor in several places, gym equipment broken and there are at least seven holes in the walls that Y/N can see. She spots the brothers, all conscious now and strapped up with cuffs.

There’s a few more officers that take statements from the members of the gym, a couple of those being detained for aggravated assault and they don’t bother to argue that it was self defence. They played their part, they protected Sam’s legacy. And they know both Harry and Y/N will bail them out by morning anyway.

The adrenaline rush that she’s been on for the past week is slowly seeping from her pores. She doesn’t think she’s ever felt this exhausted in her entire life and the harsh realisation of what they’ve been through begins to hit her like a tonne of bricks.

“Harry,” she whispers softly, “I don’t think I can stay here anymore.”

He turns to her with pinched brows but her gaze is far too focused on the blank space ahead of her to realise.

“What?”

She swallows. “There’s too much pain here. Everything hurts since losing Sammy.” Her voice breaks as she speaks.

Harry blinks rapidly, trying to make sense of the situation. He thought they had something, that something genuine was forming between them and now she wants to leave? To run away?

“What about the club?”

She scoffs out a laugh, finally looking at him now. “You had it on lock this whole time.”

“Well what about me?” he argues. “What about us?”

There’s hurt in his voice and Y/N can’t help but feel confused butterflies in her stomach. Us? She never considered that there would be. Despite the two times they hooked up and the intimacy their friendship shared, she didn’t think Harry would ever want anything more. And now he’s telling her that he does?

It hurts her, deep in her soul. Because she harbours feelings for the fighter, strong feelings. But the thought of it scares her too much. What would Sammy think if he could see them now?

When she doesn’t reply, Harry speaks again.

“If you really want to leave, I’ll come with you.”

She laughs at this, and she laughs loud. Shaking her head, she looks at Harry again. That hopeful glint shines in his eyes and it breaks her heart.

“No, Harry. You barely even know me.”

“I know enough,” he retorts quickly.

Her hands find her hips as she turns her body to face his. “Harry—“

“No, come on,” he interrupts her, “Whatever this is between us is only just starting. Don’t walk out on it.”

She huffs, frustrated. “I’m not walking out on it.”

“You’ll regret it if you do. You’ll regret leaving the club and my Gran will be so heartbroken…”

“Hey,” she pouts. “Don’t bring Mary into this.”

“It’s true!”

There’s a wide smile on his lips now and one creeps its way onto Y/N’s, too. He knows what’s going on in her head — how she’s considering what he’s saying, what he’s feeling.

His gaze softens when their eyes meet again. Harry reaches for her hands, his thumbs brushing over her knuckles.

“At least think about it a little more before you decide to leave. Don’t make hasty decisions…”

“Harry…” she sighs, her smile faded to a slight grimace.

He’s right and she knows it. But it doesn’t take away the pain she feels in this town. It doesn’t make moving on from her brother's death any easier. Everything is a constant reminder of him and what happened to him.

Everything but Harry.

“Go on a date with me,” he proposes, though it’s more of a statement than a question.

Y/N’s brows raise as a smile tugs at the corners of her mouth. “What?”

“C’mon, one date. And if I can’t convince you that we have something real, and that you should stay… then I’ll understand.”

She catches her bottom lip between her teeth and weighs out her options. She could very easily decline and leave town right now, to never speak to him again or return.

But the idea of going on a date and seeing where this connection goes sounds a little more enticing. Because deep down she knows that running away won’t solve anything. It won’t make her forget the truth.

If she leaves now, she’ll never come back. And she’ll forever regret walking away from her brother's legacy and whatever her and Harry could’ve been.

He dips his head down to catch her line of sight again, a playful smirk etched onto his face as he squeezes her hands. Y/N makes her decision there and then; to not run away, but to stay and see where fate will take her.

“Fine,” she smiles. “One date.”

Feedback is always welcomed and appreciated!

Tags: @kissfromadove @stilesissaved @kiwitsayedsugar @savannahwendel @triski73 @stylesfever @babyyhoneyyy @theresnooneheretosave @ellaorchard @itsmytimetoodream @daphnesutton @matildasatellite

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

74 notes · View notes