#and she was aware of everything very early on

[marieracingteam]

How Lance became Lancey – ls.18

stepdad!Lance Stroll | series

word count: 1305

summary: Lily’s first time at the paddock could be something challenging but, luckly for everyone, Lance had everything undercontroll. Will he win the race or will he win a tittle even more important than that?

Since Lance had asked Lily for permission to date her mother, the girl's life had changed a lot and not that much at the same time. The change had largely been for the better, except for the noise of the mixer early in the morning, which was usually offset by pancakes waiting for her when she woke up.

The biggest change, however, had been Lance's constant presence at her house. It wasn't that Lily was complaining, obviously she liked the Canadian and always having him near her, but it was a little confusing having him within reach for a few days and then going other days without seeing him.

Without meaning to, every time Lance left, Lily couldn't help but think about her father, whom she hadn't seen in months and about whom she didn't know anything most of the time.

The main problem was that, as happened when Lance left or when she saw her father on a rare afternoon, her life continued as if nothing had happened after that. She barely had any memories that it had even happened to hold onto. Or even a hope that it would happen again.

Her mom had explained to her that Lance was just travelling for work and she could see him every night through her mother's cell phone. But it wasn’t the same.

And Lance had quickly realized this when he saw how the girl behaved when he left and when he returned.

The couple had promised not to run for Lily's sake, but Lance lived for speed, so it was hard for him not to ask them to move in with him as soon as they started dating. However, now he didn't see a better option to make the girl see that he was always going to come back for her and her mother.

He had thought a lot about how to ask his girlfriend. He was aware of how crazy his life was, but they had both already seen traces of it and had not run away, so he thought he had nothing to fear.

He just needed one last test to show them it could work. And that test was going to be the Canadian Grand Prix. His home race.

His father had even helped him prepare everything for their visit. They had decorated a small part of his side of the garage and had brought different things to keep the girl entertained during the race.

Everything had to be perfect for his two girls.

His father had even had a small racing suit made especially for the girl. Green decorated with white flowers, obviously. And of course a matching hat for her mom.

And when the weekend started, half the garage was more worried and excited about Lily and her mother's first race than about the improvements they brought to the drivers' cars.

What Lance hadn't taken into account was that his weekend duties would keep him so busy that he wouldn't be able to spend all the time he wanted with them.

On Friday he had only been able to spend a little time with them before starting the weekend. He had only had time to give them a quick tour and put the little girl in his car –and take too many photos of her there with her little outfit.

“Lilybug!” Lawrence exclaimed as the girl jumped into his arms. “What's this I have heard about you becoming a driver? Do I have to sign you on my team?”

“I did! I got into Lance’s car! Right mommy?” said the girl bouncing in the man’s arms. “Want to draw with me, flower?” she asked once she calmed down.

“Sure! That's why I came to work today.”

At the end of Saturday, Lily was already exhausted from those days of action. So tired that she hadn't even realized how poorly Lance had classified on the qualy.

“It's okay, Lance. You'll bounce back tomorrow, I'm sure. You've had a very good weekend. Lily was delighted watching you run on the screens.” his girlfriend said as they headed to the driver's car.

Lily was asleep in his arms, her head on his shoulder leaving a small wet spot on his team shirt. His father had drained her while they waited for qualifying to start by playing outside, which Lance was very grateful for.

“I wanted this weekend to be perfect. I guess I forgot to plan that I would have to drive well” he confessed when he made sure little ears were not going to hear and be disappointed.

“Don't be so hard on yourself. We are so proud of you,” she whispered, giving him a quick kiss when they got to the car. “And you have nothing to worry about, this is being the best weekend, so close to our first getaway to the beach”.

“At least I haven't been attacked by any crabs here” Lance joked, causing his girlfriend to laugh as they buckled Lily into her seat.

“Don't claim victory, there is still tomorrow.”

And like every time she said something, his girlfriend was always right. After a difficult start, Lance had come back with precision, ready to show his audience today that they had not chosen wrong by choosing him.

And when Lance crossed the finish line in fifth position, climbing more than ten positions, it almost tasted like a podium.

Arriving at park fermé, Lance was welcomed by his girl, his dad and his little bug in his dad’s arms.

“You were sooo fast, Lance!” Lily said excited after shouting at him.

“Did you see, baby?” he asked grabbing her in his arms “I wanted to do it right for you and mom”.

“And flower” the girl reminded him pointing at his dad, whose suit was covered in white flowers stickers much like her little racing suit.

“Yeah, and flower too” Lance corrected himself. “But I wanted to do it super well so that mom and you would want to come with me more times”.

“Are you going to invite us more times?” Lily asked with hope filling her eyes.

“More than that. If you want and mom says yes, I would like to invite you all of the time. And when you can't come, I would like you to be waiting for me at home. In our house, wherever it may be” he finally ask.

Despite all the planning, Lance still wasn't sure how he was going to ask them to live together. He had doubts, but having Lily in his arms and his girlfriend hugging his side cleared them up.

And the smile of his girlfriend said it all “You want us to move together?”

“I want it all together, love”

With a laught, the woman looked at her daughter “What do you say, Lily? Will you want Lance living with us all the time”

"Will he always come back then?" she asked shyly. Suddenly all her energy was contained. She shrank into Lance's chest and avoided eye contact.

Lance's heart broke at her doubt and uncertainty about him, even if it wasn't really about him.

"I will always come back to you and mom, bug" Lance promised.

He wanted to tell her more, to tell her that he wasn't like her dad, to promise her that he would never leave like he did. But that wasn't the place and he knew actions spoke louder than words.

"I love you, Lancey" she murmured hugging his neck tightly.

“Lancey?” her mom asked surprised by the affectionate nickname.

“Yeah, my mommy and my Lancey” the girl explained, hugging her mom too from the arms of the driver, who only hugged them tighter while trying to stop the tears of happiness from falling from his eyes.

That sounded right, he thought. That sounded a lot like a family.

#f1 #f1 fanfic #f1 fanfiction #formula 1 #formula 1 fanfic #f1 angst #lance stroll fanfic #lance stroll fluff #lance stroll x reader #lance stroll angst #lance stroll #ls18 x reader #ls18

[asherlockstudy]

GMM Coming out Attempt Number 2500

#Rhett and link #rhink #good mythical morning #gmm #and thus my final question is answered #the crew is entirely in into this #they have been completely out to them for quite some time obviously #it’s amazing how it hasn’t escape from mythical even as a rumour #wow #I wonder if this is also an indication Stevie helped them out the earlier years #and she was aware of everything very early on #mythical

[effysayres]

i need older women in ways that are concerning to feminism.

#fraise.txt #addendum: the following is a joke i swear #i just feel a certain way when older women hug me #how i haven't realized i wasn't attracted to men before is so wild to me now that i know and am aware #thank god my girlfriend came along and basically made everything that didn't make sense make sense to me #one more thing i owe my girlfriend ! #context for this: one of my very attractive coworkers (late 40s/early 50s with short blonde hair and a moldovan accent) hugged me #she's very warm (in a kind way) so obviously it made me think #i really don't like thinking about dating outside of my girlfriend (she's my everything and the only one i need) but... #yeah :tm:

[goldsbitch]

You texted...

Y/N and Lando are going through a rough patch in their relationship. Not really on speaking terms. This bad streak ends when there is a massive spider in her bathroom.

angst, one shot

The moment she spotted that creature sent from hell, everything else went out of the window. The dinner in the oven, the fact she was planning on doing a late night session in the gym, the fact her hair was still wet from the shower. The fact she and her boyfriend Lando were on "not speaking" terms.

Y/N was absolutely terrified of spiders her whole life and was never able to over come the fear by getting rid of them on her own. Lando was the one who always ever so kindly rescued her, he overtook this role her neighbor, who overtook it from her mom, who Y/N had trained to react immediately when she heard a very specific scream.

Now she was standing in her apartment, alone with nowhere to go, since her job was to stay frozen at one spot and stare at the creature, in case it moved, and not really sure who to call for help. Her best friend was the first option. Normally, it would have been her boyfriend, but something was stopping her from doing that.

"Come on, come on, come on," she whispered as she dialed her best friend living close by. "Pick up, dammit."

Finally, the tone she was praying for. "Hey, girl, what's up?"

No time for chit chat. "You have to come over now, immediately."

Her friend noticed the immediate distress and tuned herself in. "What's wrong?" she replied, sounding as she was ready to dial the police.

"There's a spider situation going on in my apartment."

"Uhm, I see," she said, more relaxed now, but still taking it seriously.

"It's huge, with like hairy legs and shit. You have to come over, now. We have a deal, remember?"

Her friend was equally terrified of mosquitoes, so they agreed that Y/N would deal with those while spider duty fell on the other lady. This has happened many many times before. Usually ended up with a nice girls evening. Ever since Lando appeared in Y/N life however, the emergency calls stopped.

"I thought Lando was around this week?" her friend asked curiously. "Not that I'm trying to get out of this, but I'm sort of like an hour away from you, so..."

Y/N let out a frustrated sigh. "Fucking hell...Yeah, we're not exactly speaking at the moment," she admitted.

"Wow, that's a first!?" her friend said, clearly surprised. "Why?"

"Look, I'd love to chat, but are you coming or not? There's no one else and I'm not calling Lando!"

"Yes, yes, I'm getting in the car, just let me say good bye to my friends here, we're having a picnic," she replied and muted voices of disapproval came from the background.

Y/N felt guilty about doing this, but she'd dropped everything she was oing for her friend many times, answered phone calls in the middle of the night even though she was an early bird. They just had this kind of friendship.

"Drive fast, please," she said, still stubborn and not about to call Lando.

//

Y/N sat there staring at the spider for good ten minuted before her friend called again.

"Ok, I'm in the car, you can talk about Lando now, keep me busy. I'm going to pass over the fact you and your boyfriend are fighting and I have no idea," she said unapologetically.

"Figured you'd be mad about that. Yeah, he's been acting like a bit of a dick..."

"But you're not broken up, right?" her friend asked, slightly worried about her favorite couple.

"No, I don't think so. I hope so," she realized, the spider in the corner becoming lesser of her problems.

"And what seems to be the problem? Did he cheat?"

"No, not that I'm aware," she replied without thinking.

"Did you cheat?" her friend asked, ready to support her in anything.

"Jesus, no. It's um...I dunno, we've just grown a bit distant. Lately it feels like I'm like at number 50 of his priorities list. It's always only racing, Quadrant, promo event this and that."

"That's shitty, yeah. Would you like to be included? I know you hate things like promo events and such."

"I do! But honestly, I miss him so much and frankly I'd like to be more included in his life somehow. Especially now that I have more time in my life."

"Does he know that?"

"No?"

Her friend let out a deep sigh. "Hm. You have to untangle that. It would be stupid to break up over that."

"Yeah, I'd hate that," she said, panic setting in.

"Text him to come. To save you from the spider. It's a nice excuse and good test. To see if he cares."

"I'm scared. What if he does not respond?"

Few moments of dramatic silence. "Well, at least you'd know."

"Yeah. Ok. Sending it." Y/N quickly typed something up, trying not to overthink it.

"What did you text?"

"Can you come over asap? I need help with a spider. It's urgent."

"Nice. Now you'll see what he does."

They stayed on the phone together for good half an hour. Catching up and distracting Y/N from the fact there was no text from Lando coming her way.

//

A doorbell rang.

"You're here already?" Y/N asked her friend, surprised by her ability to drive this fast.

"Nope, still very much far away. Did I hear a bell? Do you think it's him?"

"I dunno. I'll mute you and if it's him I'll hang up, ok?"

"Gotcha."

She opened the door with a heavy heart. What if it was not him?

But it was. Flustered Lando stood there without saying hello. The two shared a pain-filled look, neither of them enjoying this no contact streak they had.

"You came..." she said finally, ending the phone call.

"You texted..." he said dryly and in full macho mode entered her apartment without being let it. "Can you point me where?"

"That corner," she simply pointed, flushed with emotions. Happy that he came to rescue her, sad about his loveless tone and scared of what was to come after. She watched him from afar, as he skillfully took the spider and threw it out of the balcony.

"Don't say anything about him knowing his way back, please," he said, hinting on the countless debates they'd had before about Lando not wanting to kill every spider they'd encounter.

The air suddenly went very heavy. Lando casually headed to the kitchen to get himself a glass of water while trying so hard to make eye contact with her. The last time they spoke was few days prior - and it was not a nice conversation. Lots of built up emotions got out, frustrated speeches made and confusing sentences jumping one after another. Ending with Lando slamming the door on his way out.

She had no clue where to start. "So, how have you been?" she asked, not sure she was ready for his answer. He finally looked at her, and then with an annoyed eye-roll went back into staring out of the window.

Y/N threw her hands up in the air as the familiar feeling from few days ago kicked back in. "Ok fine, sorry I asked. Thank you so much for your help, truly appreciated, but if you hate being around me, just say so that we can-"

"We can what?" he cut her off, not having any of that.

"I don't know, you tell me!...I'm getting lost at trying to read you," she admitted, not even trying to hide anything from him at this point.

"I'm sorry," he said slowly. "I don't think I listened to you," he sighed before continuing, "Or more like did not hear what you were saying."

The validation felt rewarding. But she feared what would come next.

"What I heard at that moment was you not respecting my lack of time and the fact that things I'm involved in are important to me."

She took a breath and planned on interrupting him, which he noticed and tried to stop.

"Let me finish, please. But thinking about it, I figured that's not the case, and you were simply pointing out that I've been putting off spending time with you. Which you're absolutely correct. I figured since we've been going to strong lately, this would be fine. But truth is I hate this distance it created. I feel lost, uneasy and unable to focus," he blabbered something, which felt like he might have even rehearsed on the way to her. "What I'm trying to say is - do you still care enough for us to fix it?"

It felt vulnerable, raw and maybe even uncomfortable to have these kinds of talks. But this is ultimately what cements a relationship.

Feeling like he managed to destroy some of the wall they'd put up, she took few steps towards him.

"Lando, of course I do. It's not a rare event that I imagine our future life together, as a couple and one day potentially as a family. Never had this feeling before in my life. Please, let's figure out a way how to prevent the distance from happening. Things have changed now, the relationship has too. We've been together for almost two years. And my love for you has only grown."

He finally smiled, relieved that they seemed to be on the same page.

"I came right from the tennis court, left everyone behind. Would you like to go there with me? Hang out with the Quadrant squad for a bit and then have a nice dinner somewhere? I just want to spend this evening with you."

"And the night hopefully," she teased, trying to ease the mood.

"Always the night, it was absolutely horrible, knowing you're so close to me, yet having to sleep without you."

She closed the distance between them, embracing him into a hug. They bodies were more than familiar with each and it felt right to be that close. Definitely better than each of them standing in a different corner of the room.

"We still have to talk about this. I don't want our love to slip through by our fingers," she said, letting her anxiety out.

"We will. Tonight, we'll come up with a plan. Can you join me on few races later this month?" he asked, hoping for a positive answer.

"Of course, my love. I have to buy new clothes though, the cameras are savage."

He chuckled, relaxed now that he did not have to worry about having lost her. "Yes, they are."

She later call her friend to thank her for dropping everything and driving to save her, even though it was not needed in the end. Her friend was more than happy that she and Lando seemingly found the way back to each other.

She also admitted that she turned back the moment Y/N sent her text to Lando, knowing that this guy would come running anytime his girlfriend asked for help.

#lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #lando norris fanfic #ln4 imagine #formula 1 #formula one x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #fluff #lando norris fluff #formula 1 fluff #formula 1 fanfic #ln4 x reader #ln4 x y/n #lando norris x y/n #formula 1 one shot #f1 one shot

[foldingfittedsheets]

I had this friend I was living with when I was getting my associates degree in my early twenties. Wait, hang on. So the first thing I need to convey about that time in my life is that I was as full of anxiety as it was possible to be.

I was working, taking classes, and living on my own for the first time. I was drowning. I was a bubbling kettle of stress and responsibilities all waiting to boil over at any moment. Bodies are fickle things. They all react to stress very differently. My body decided that the best possible way to deal with stress was to puke about it.

This was extremely unwelcome not just because throwing up is a violently uncomfortable experience but also because I struggled most of my life to maintain a healthy weight. I’d eat enormous portions but even when my food stayed down I burned through calories like a hummingbird. I tended to hover right around a hundred pounds, desperately trying to gain weight.

My friends were all aware of my struggles. They’d keep granola bars on them for when I suddenly got so hungry I was sick and made me calorie dense meals. They knew the face I made when I realized I was going to be sick and usually had water and back rubs for me afterward.

So that’s where I was. Throwing up generally at least once a week, working and school full time. I was living with three friends. Let’s call them K, D, and E. K and I had been friends since middle school and she and I shared a bedroom with our own bathroom. The boys D and E shared a room, and had the public bathroom.

The last thing you need to know is that D was a sex addict. He was always horny, masturbated several times a day, and made no secret of his proclivities. It was a running joke within the friend group. (As an aside he once had his car broken into while transporting his duffel bag of sex toys to and from a liaison, and the thief ignored everything else in the car to take the toys. It was probably over a thousand dollars of used sex toys but the thief still wanted it more than his iPod)

One night I was doing homework and dinner was sitting poorly. I hadn’t fully developed my brain yet to make a connection between my paper was stressing me out to the fact that I suddenly felt really sick. But to my dismay K was in our bathroom.

So I jumped up, frantically ill, and ran across the living room to the boys toilet to barf.

The walls were thin.

Within a few minutes D came in with a cold wash cloth. He put it on my neck and rubbed my back. He’d brought a glass of water for me, too, which was all very lovely.

When I was done we sat in the miserable aftermath of this latest episode in stomach violence. He finally broke the silence to comment, “I’ve never lost an erection as fast as I did hearing you start puking.”

#ramblies #ffs foibles #funny #I stopped puking shortly after meeting my beloved actually #I had started eating better on my own but they have a lovely calming presence and things improved a lot for me when we started dating #writing #story #real life #cw vomit

[coldfanbou]

Learning From The Best

Jihyo and Yunjin! A great duo when you think about it. This turned out to be pretty long too.

Length 3.2K

Jihyo X Reader X Yunjin

Jihyo, tray in hand, slowly walked to her stepdaughter’s room. She wanted to bring in some snacks for her and her boyfriend. She was about to knock when she noticed the door was left slightly open. Before she pushed open the door, she heard low groans. Jihyo silently gasped as she saw what was going on. Inside was her stepdaughter Yunjin giving you a blowjob. 

She sees Yunjin struggle, barely able to fit the tip of your cock in her mouth. However, the sight is more than enough to arouse her. Jihyo doesn’t notice that she’s rubbing her thighs together or that she licks her lips at the sight of your cock. She places the tray of snacks on a small nearby table. It balances precariously on the edge; the tray was too big. Still, Jihyo headed back to watch more. Her hand moves under her pants and underwear, gently sliding along her slit. Jihyo covers her mouth with her other hand. Her fingers push deep inside her slit as she watches her stepdaughter struggle.

The tray she placed on the table fell off, alerting you and Yunjin. Jihyo, aware that she could get caught, sneaks to the plate, putting everything back onto it. “Sorry! I drop a tray of snacks!” She yells as she wipes her slick hand on her pants. You and Yunjin poke out into the hallway and help her pick everything up, unaware she has been watching you. Once everything was back on the tray, she handed it to Yunjin before walking away. 

Jihyo headed to her room, shutting the door behind her. She snuck her hand into her shirt and squeezed one of her tits while her other hand went back into her pants. She sat on her bed, fingering herself as she reimagined what she saw. In her mind, things changed. She got involved, taking your cock inside her. Jihyo imagined what your cock must feel like; she pushed her fingers in deeper, scraping her walls with curled fingers as she pulled out. Her husband has been away on a business trip for a long time. So the moment she saw her daughter getting some action, it awakened her urges. Jihyo bent herself over the bed, biting into it as she pulled on her nipple. She felt an orgasm coming and needed to keep quiet while you were still in the house. Jihyo moaned into the bed as she came; her pants became thoroughly soaked by her juices, and she was out of breath. Jihyo pulled her fingers out and moved them along her wet lips, groaning as she basked in the afterglow. 

It still wasn’t enough for her. Jihyo continued to play with her pussy as she imagined you fucking her. She pulled down her pants and threw off her top before getting rid of her undergarments. As she was doing that, she got a look at herself in the mirror, her big tits and wide hips. What she focused on most, though, was her thighs. They were slick, her nectar running down them. She thought about what she was doing and tried to control herself. She grabbed other clothes; she needed to take a cold shower to clear her mind. 

She exited her room and ran into Yunjin, who was walking back from the front door. “Oh, did your boyfriend leave?”

Yunjin moved her hair behind her ear, “Um, yeah. We were…I mean, he got busy.” Jihyo considered her words and thought back to her struggle with you. 

“Yunjin…” Jihyo said, considering what she could do and if she should bring up what she saw. “Yunjin, I saw what you were doing with him.” 

“You-I don’t know what you mean.”

“Yunjin, I saw you giving him a blowjob,” Jihyo says, a plan forming in the back of her head. “It didn’t look like he was enjoying it very much.”

“I-was I doing a bad job? Is that why he left early?” She says quietly, beginning to doubt herself.

“Honey, don’t put yourself down. You’re a late bloomer, is all. You’re in college with your first boyfriend. I could always help you learn more about sex.”

“But you’re my-”

“I’m your stepmom. It’s my duty to help you. I have more experience than you. Why don’t you let me join in next time you get with your boyfriend so I can help you?”

“I don’t know. that sounds-” 

“Yunjin, he would be happy if I taught you. You would be able to do so much. Imagine how amazed he would be if you managed to swallow more of his cock.” Jihyo was trying to lower Yunjin’s self-esteem just enough for her to agree.

“I guess you’re right. The next time he comes. We’ll do it.” Jihyo gives her stepdaughter a nod and heads into the bathroom to shower. She’s satisfied with herself and masturbating, excited about getting to have sex after so long. She didn’t care about cheating on her husband.

Somedays passed by before Yunjin invited you to come back to her house. You were a bit hesitant, but she told you things would go a lot better this time. You greeted her stepmom Jihyo at the door before being taken to her room. Yunjin left the door open and had you sit on her bed. Placing her hand over your crotch, she says that she wants to try again. You look her in the eyes before moving downward to her chest. The shirt she chose to wear gave you a slight look at her cleavage. She felt your bulge grow and blushed. “I have someone that is going to help me.” A knock at the door catches your attention. Jihyo is standing in the doorway, naked. Her figure was amazing; her big tits and small waist combined with her wide hips made her look like a goddess. You felt a twinge of pain as your pants grew tighter. 

“Yunjin, you should take your clothes off. We all know what’s going to happen.” Yunjin gives her stepmother a slight nod and grabs the hem of her shirt, pulling it up and off her body. Her modest chest rose as she took a breath; her small brown nipples were already hard. She stands up, removing her pants. You can’t help but focus on Jihyo; however, her hips swaying with every step, and the slight bounce of her tits hypnotizing you. “Let’s get these clothes off you.” She whispers into your ear. Yunjin helps you remove your clothes and sits on one side of you while Jihyo sits on the other. “I saw my stepdaughter and you the other day. I thought I could help show her how to please her man.” She says, wrapping her hand around your cock. She moves her hand slowly up your shaft, her gentle grip making you shudder. “That feels good, doesn’t it? Take notes, Yunjin.” Yunjin looks intently as Jihyo’s hand glides up and down your shaft. Jihyo plants her lips on your neck as she strokes your cock. “You want to fuck my pussy, don’t you? I saw the way you looked at me. You want to fuck me in front of my stepdaughter.” You moan in response. “Yunjin, dirty talk is always a good thing. You won’t use it today, but keep that in mind.”

Jihyo takes her hand off your cock; you miss the pleasure you got from her almost immediately. “It’s your turn, Yunjin. Hold his cock gently and move your hand slowly.” You feel Yunjin’s hand now; it’s smaller but softer than Jihyo’s. She moves her hand along your shaft, her grip slightly too tight. “Loosen up, Yunjin. Your hand needs to glide along his cock.” Yunjin nods her head and loosens her grip. 

“Does it feel good?” She asks you as she continues to stroke your cock.

“It feels really good, Yunjin.” You moan. Jihyo moves around behind you and presses her tits against the back of your head. Her soft mounds feel nice as she moves them around.

“Yunjin, let him play with your tits.” She pushes her chest out for you to play with. Yunjin’s tits are firm and perky, her nipple hard. You flick it, making her release a light moan. You squeeze them, enjoying how they feel in your hand. In response, Yunjin speeds up her handjob, and her hand glides along your cock, getting covered in precum. “That’s good, Yunjin, but slow down. We don’t want him to cum just yet.” Jihyo tells her. “I want you to save some for me.” She whispers to you. “Play with the tip; use your thumb. Slowly move it along the edges, then move over the middle.” Your girlfriend does as she’s told. She moves her thumb around the tip of your cock, rubbing it well. You groan loudly. You’re on the verge of cumming. “Yunjin, stop. We’re going to give him a blowjob now.” 

Jihyo climbs off the bed and kneels before you, dragging along Yunjin. “I’ll tell you what to do, Honey.” Jihyo grabs Yunjin’s hair, holding it up for her. Yunjin looks at her nervously. “Go ahead.” While the last blowjob felt good, you weren’t able to cum from it. You hoped this time would go better. Yunjin pressed her lips against the tip of your cock, moving them side to side at first before taking in the head. “Okay, good. Use your tongue on it and relax your throat.” You feel Yunjin’s tongue move around your cock, licking the sides of your shaft. You moan her name and tilt your head back as you enjoy the warmth of her mouth. “Take a little more in.” Yunjin pushes her head down, taking some of your shaft. Her tongue moves along the underside. “Relax your throat.”

Yunjin glances at her stepmother and nods. She tries to relax her throat and forces herself to take more of your cock. She reaches the halfway point. “Good. That’s enough for now; bob your head and use your tongue to finish him off.” Yunjin follows along; she bobs her head, never passing the midway point. Her tongue laps at the sides of your cock until she reaches the head, running over it as she laps up your precum. You moan Yunjin’s name. A small smile forms on her face; she is happy to hear you moan her name. Jihyo got up and sat beside you, kissing your neck. “Now cum in my daughter’s mouth. I know you want to.” She says in a low voice. Your throbbing cock signaled to Yunjin something was coming, but she didn’t expect her mouth to become flooded with your cum. Yunjin’s mouth quickly filled with the warm liquid before it spilled out, running down the corners of her mouth and splattering onto her tits. 

Jihyo congratulates Yunjin for her hard work. “You did great, Honey. Are you ready to move on to the next step?” 

Yunjin coughs and nods her head. “I want to do it.” Jihyo helps Yunjin onto her feet. Your girlfriend lays down on the bed, looking at you with excitement. 

“You’re going to get to fuck my stepdaughter. Aren’t you lucky?” Jihyo says as she strokes your cock. You moan, making Jihyo smile. She continues to pump your shaft until you’re hard. “Now go on. Fuck her.” Yunjin spreads her legs and extends her arms, waiting for you to put it in. You align yourself with her entrance, pushing in slightly. There was some resistance, but you can push past it and inside. You feel Yunjin’s pussy stretching to accommodate you. Yunjin’s walls push against your cock, and you both moan. Yunjin’s cunt was tight and wet. You push in more, wanting to take things slow. Jihyo had other plans, however, and pushed you into Yunjin, making her take every inch. Yunjin cried out as she felt herself be impaled on your cock. You look over your shoulder to see Jihyo masturbating, playing with her tits and fingering herself as she watches. You start thrusting into Yunjin, her high-pitched moans arousing you further. Her legs wrap around behind your back, as do her arms. She calls your name as you bury yourself inside her repeatedly. 

“It feels so good. You’re so big.” Yunjin moans as you thrust. “Kiss me,” she says, her voice desperate. You press your lips against Yunjin’s. Her light moans grant you access to the inside of her mouth. Your tongue explores it as she continues to moan. You feel Yunjin’s nipples move against your chest, and her legs push you in further as she loses herself to the pleasure. “Something’s coming, something’s coming!” She cries out as she climaxes. Yunjin’s walls clamp down on your cock, growing tighter. You slam your hips into Yunjin, the loud claps filling the room. On the verge of cumming yourself, you pick up the pace. Yunjin’s cries grow louder as she feels your cock slide in and out quickly. 

“I’m cumming.” You groan. “I’m cumming.” 

“You can’t cum inside, pull out. Pull out!” Yunjin says in a panicked voice while keeping her legs wrapped around you. You struggle against Yunjin but manage to pull out in time, your cum shooting out onto her stomach. You both take deep breaths, recovering slowly. Yunjin gives you a genuine smile and kisses you. She lets go of you and rests her head. She was tired and soon fell asleep. 

As you sit in front of Yunjin, looking at her sleeping form, Jihyo comes up from behind you. Her hands wrap around your waist as she presses her tits against your back. “I hope you didn’t forget about me.” Jihyo wraps her hand around your flaccid cock, stroking it slowly in a way that only she could. “You wanted to cum inside of Yunjin, didn’t you?”

“I did.” You reply, huffing.

“It’s too bad she didn’t let you, but I will.” You turn to face Jihyo. She continues to stroke your cock. “You’re getting hard again. Does it sound that good?” She says with a laugh. “You like the idea that much? Cumming inside your girlfriend’s stepmom while she’s sleeping right in front of you?” You don’t say a word; your cock is doing the talking for you. Jihyo presses her tits against you again. “Let me use these. You were staring at them earlier. Lay down for me, baby.” You do as instructed. Jihyo crawls toward you, her heavy mounds swaying as she moves. Jihyo places your cock between her soft tits and moves them up and down your shaft. “Your cock’s so big, it’s poking out the top.” She says as she presses her tits together, creating more friction. “Watching you fuck my daughter was so hot. I couldn’t wait for my turn.” You watch as Jihyo’s tits begin to shine as your cum covers them. Jihyo was skillful; she knew how to use her body in just the right way. With your cock poking out from in between her tits, Jihyo used her tongue, lapping at the head when it poked out. 

“Shit. You’re on another level.”

“I know. If you’re interested, we could do this all the time while my husband is gone. We’ll just say their lessons. Do you like the sound of that? A mommy-daughter threesome?” 

“That sounds amazing,” You moan. Your cock begins to twitch between Jihyo’s tits. She smiles at you.

“Cum on my tits, make them yours.” She commands. You release the tension and cum on Jihyo’s tits. Your cum spurts into the air, landing on them. She has a wide smile on her face as she uses her tits to milk you. She pulls away once you run dry and massages your cum into her skin. Jihyo moans as she does so, arousing you even more. “It’s time for the good part,” Jihyo says in a low, seductive tone. She crawls toward you, climbing up your body until she’s face to face with you. “Tell me how much you want me,” Jihyo says as she grabs your cock and rubs it between her folds.

“I want to fuck you.” You groan.

“I know. Where do you want to cum.” 

“I want to cum inside you. I want to fill your pussy with my cum.” Jihyo smirks, liking your answer. 

She leans down and kisses you before saying, “Then fill me up, baby. Make me your woman.” Jihyo places your cock against her pussy and slams herself down. “Oh fuck!” She moans. Jihyo rocks her hips back and forth as she does a low hum of pleasure. “This is just what I thought it would feel like. Nice and big.” Jihyo places her hand over her lower stomach, “It feels like you’re right here. Right against my womb.” Jihyo’s pussy was tight, her muscles tightening around your cock. Then she started bouncing on it; you felt her swallow the entirety of your cock in swift motions. You looked up at the woman before you, her tits bouncing as she crashed onto your cock. Jihyo had eyes filled with lust. Her moans were unrestrained and filled the room. Jihyo grabbed your hands and placed them on her tits, “Play with them. I know you want to.” You couldn’t deny her words. You squeezed her tits; they were soft and jiggled slightly if you shook them. Jihyo’s moans only grew louder; her hair covered half her face, and she had a look of pure bliss. You felt yourself nearing your climax, your cock throbbing inside the older woman. 

“You’re going to cum. I can feel it. Hold on just a little bit longer; I’m getting close. I’ll give you a nice reward if you do.” You place your hands on Jihyo’s waist and grit your teeth as you try to hold on. You felt Jihyo’s walls clench around your cock as she impaled herself on it. “Fuck! You’re messing me up inside. I’m going to cum.” Jihyo looks down and steals a kiss from you. “Cum inside me. Fill my pussy. I want to feel your cum inside me.” She says as she slams herself down and buries your cock inside her. Jihyo throws her head back and cries out in pleasure as she cums. You let go as well, letting your cum flood her cunt, pumping her full of it just how she wanted. You felt Jihyo’s cunt milking you, greedily taking every drop of cum. Jihyo rocks back and forth for a few minutes, remaining tied to you until she recovers. “You managed to hold back. I guess you deserve that reward.” 

Jihyo unmounts you. She looks down at her body and spreads her lips, watching cum drip out of her. She has a satisfied smirk on her face as she gets between your legs and grabs your cock. “I’ll clean you up.” Jihyo presses her lips around the head of your cock and takes it into her mouth; in one smooth motion, she moves down to the base of your cock. A few spurts of cum shoot out into her mouth as you experience your first deepthroat blowjob. Jihyo’s tongue moves around your shaft as she makes her way up. Jihyo’s lips were tightly wrapped around your shaft, dragging along any cum she might have missed. With a pop, she leaves your cock. She opens her mouth, letting you see her mouth full of your cum before she drinks it. Jihyo smiles at you as she climbs off the bed and heads for the door. 

You look over at Yunjin, seeing that she is still asleep. “Don’t worry about her. She’s a heavy sleeper. You could probably fuck her, and she’d sleep right through it. Oh, and I look forward to our next lesson. Yunjin will get there one day.”

#kpop smut #twice smut #jihyo smut #le sserafim smut #yunjin smut #male reader #m reader

[arijackz]

PICK A CARD: Your FS' Secret Kinks

❦ “She lowered her lashes until they almost cuddled her cheeks and slowly raised them again, like a theatre curtain. I was to get to know that trick. That was supposed to make me roll over on my back with all four paws in the air." - Raymon Chandler, The Big Sleep

Disclaimer: This is a general reading, take what resonates. This is a gender-neutral reading, change any pronouns to apply to you.

p1 → p2 ↙︎ p3 → p4

✦ Pile One ✦

Poor lil pooh pooh. This person struggles to “fill their cups up” so they get off on denying themselves pleasure. They secretly like the feeling of hitting whatever rock bottom looks like to them. Honestly, they want to be saved. They are wallowing at the bottom of a well, waiting for their savior to swoop in and throw them a rope. 

In a more literal sense, they want a person to be their reason to live. Their reason to feel daylight on their skin again. Everyone and everything around them is unsatisfying and “fake”. They want something real to coax them out of their hell and entice them with all the thrilling things life has to offer. 

However, they also like this dark and brooding side of themselves. They have a bit of a corruption kink.

They fantasize about a virginal angel coming down to save them, but they end up convincing the angel to sink down to their level. 

They like exciting, spontaneous people who are willing to jump up and run out the door to do something fun at any moment, but think innocent fun. Like going to the movies to theater hop, and getting away without paying. Or, running around the Target parking lot in shopping carts and trying not to bang into cars. Maybe even steal a few street signs. 

Innocent childhood fun that you’d see in early 90s movies. But add a sadistic twist to it that only they are aware of. 

You would be the innocent virgin (doesn’t have to be true, it's their fantasy) who is unknowingly leading this beast (also not true, they are just extremely self-deprecating) to your pretty little happy places which they plan to desecrate.

They want to fuck you in your family home and make a mess of your childhood bed, making you scream so loud that you’re family starts to look at you differently. They want to take you to your favorite movie spots where you usually chill and hangout with your friends and turn it into a place where all you can think about is them covering your mouth in the back of the theater while you’re squirming in their lap, trying to escape out of their grip as they edge you to the new Marvel release. 

They have a kink for turning all of your innocent, fun moments into their very own filthy fantasies.

Ps. Fisting came out of the blue so lube up!

Come To Me, My Senseless Angel

✦ Pile Two ✦

I don’t believe this is a future spouse, to be honest. This might be a situationship you need to move past. They seem emotionally immature, or at least this is a side of them that exclusively comes out when they’re aroused. 

They can be quite abrasive and feel like they are constantly under attack so they’re incredibly defensive. They have a history of lashing out at their loved ones when they feel overwhelmed and get so blinded by their emotions that they disregard their affection for their partners and say really unforgettable, harmful words which permanently alters the connection for the worse. 

They carry guilt from these actions and are in a constant state of regret. In this state, their sense of pleasure is a little twisted. They get turned on by causing a genuine issue in the relationship. They like the idea of pushing you to your limit where you’re this 🤏  close to your breaking point and at your absolute lowest. It’s when you reach your rock bottom and realize the need to move away from this person and you scream out, “I DESERVE BETTER THAN THIS.”

They like to grovel. You know that cycle where somebody fucks up and then they’re in the dog house buying flowers and being extra fluffy just to get in the victim’s good graces so they can do the same thing over again. So far, pile one and two’s respective partners like to feel like shit. They secretly like the moment where they completely fuck up a relationship and have to beg on their hands and knees to get their person back orrrrrr they get off on emotionally tearing someone down to the point where they get on their knees to bed for this person’s attention. 

Either way, there's a lot of fucked psychological issues underneath this fantasy that I’m not unpacking here because it differs from person to person. 

In its best light, this person glorifies struggle love. At its worst, this person is purposefully emotionally abusive with the intent to tear their partner down for their own sexual gratification. 

They’re conscious enough to know their actions are toxic but don’t have the emotional maturity to work past their actions. They’re at the phase where they’re just aware and are like “I know I’m shitty but that’s just who I am. If they stick with me and the sex is good, it’s meant to be.”

I’m honestly getting twitter relationship hypotheticals with this one. Iykyk.

They’re also an edgelord. Less in an internet cockroach way and more in a witty- can be funny if done well- way, but they get pleasure from shocking people nonetheless. This energy can be directed toward you to piss you off and annoy you with the intent of getting in your pants later. 

I’ve been guided to switch the conversation briefly: If this resonates and is someone you are dealing with. It is time to move on. This person gets gratification from hurting you and will not get past that high of tearing down a relationship and then having a messy recovery. They have their own issues to work through and cannot see how they are hurting you. There is no future with this person, they came into your life to teach you a lesson about your self-value. That cycle has run its course and it's time to move on.  

To be honest, I’m not a fan of this person and don’t even want to list the explicit kinks that came out but I will just in case this message is for you but you’re not sure.

Random messages: Hot tub/pool sex, hair pulling, break down crying, interracial, milk, broken condom, “i fucking hate you”, “whore”, mirror, drunk sex, complaining, smack a bitch, twitter

P.S. You’re too sexy for the bullshit! There is bigger and greater out there, you just need to believe that for yourself!

This person will not get a mood board out of me.

✦ Pile Three ✦

Okay, so this person has some deep religious guilt. This is a male presenting person. I am being clear with their sex because it plays a role in this reading. They have some majorly repressed feminine energy. They may even be attracted to the same sex. 

This is a fs reading, so they are likely bi, pansexual, or trans. Either way, their family is close-minded and is not supportive of them. They were forced to leave home so they could finally live their truth. They have lived their entire life fitting somebody else’s narrative. They were the hypermasculine bro type to “cover up” their femininity. 

So, they have a kink for hyperfeminity. It’s almost to the point where they obsess over the caricature of girlhood. I see lots of pink, high heels, full-glam, all-day mall shopping, pinup curls, flashy jewelry, sleepovers, day spas, that scene in Scott Pilgrim where that girl is like “SHE’S PROBABLY LIKE 25!”, and everything else that gets associated with “girlhood” nowadays. 

They fantasize about you in your receptive energy, being waited on and cared for hand and foot. They like to observe the way you move. Everything about you and your feminine aura is incredibly alluring to them. The way with each breath your breasts fall, the way your hips swat with each step, the cute way you match your accessories with your outfits. They notice everything about you. 

You know those paintings of wealthy women lying on their sides and being fed grapes? That. They’re not in the serving role, they're the painter. Their kink is capturing you in those everyday moments where the world seems to be waiting on you like you’re the collective’s queen.

They see femininity in a higher light than the general population. They see women as automatically deserving of this type of care, they also want this care. 

They have a secret hard-on for pregnant women and women with swollen breasts. They have a lactation kink. They fantasize about cumming in you over and over again. They see you as a Goddess, so they want to see you masturbate at church on an altar, like you're waiting to be worshipped. 

A lot of their fantasies, they’re not even included in. It’s just you looking God-like and being worshipped by the world around you. This person may hate when you wear clothes. They act like the fabric is committing a sin by covering your body. They just want to capture your essence. Like an admirer and a student.

P.S. Dick game goes CRAZY. They watch a lot of women-focused porn to study what gets a woman off. Like Maddie in Euphoria, here is there to study.

Pretty In Pink

✦ Pile Four ✦

WE GOT A PLEASURE DOM IN THE BUILDING Y’ALL STAY CALM. As my mama would say, they love your dirty drawls!

You could do no wrong in this person’s eyes. They’re the golden retriever type. Head empty, leading with heart and IN LOVE>>>>>

You are the pot of gold and the end of the rainbow they’re chasing. They appreciate a good fling but they’ve never felt this before. The emotions you stir in them are unprecedented, this is puppy, sandbox love that most people lose touch with after life jades them.

This is raw love at its most unprocessed. I taste honey. 

They have a kink for the power you have over them. It’s like you have a carrot on a stick and they’re the pig being led to a love den they can’t escape. And they’ll happily be the squealing pig in every lifetime they get with you. This is a soul yearning. 

You will know this person because they will proactively pursue you and they will have no doubts in their mind about it. They are really attracted to your physical form, your curves. Even if you’re on the slimmer side, they like your structure and the dips in your spine. They’ll stare at you when you’re talking and zone out, thinking about how attractive they find you. 

They’re not used to having to try to get someone to sleep with them. They have to put effort towards you and they like that. This person is downright thirsty and craves intimacy with you.

Their fantasies aren’t even dirty, they’re passionate. They want to put you in a mating press, with your knees pressed all the way up beside your ears. They want to penetrate (could be with a toy) deeply and touch that gooey part of you that makes you see stars. 

They want to see an imprint of them in your lower belly. Any position where you’re in their arms is a go for them because they like having you. They want every moment to be just you and them away from the world. So very sweet and intimate. They also love marking you, expect lots of hickeys.

Ignore them from time to time too (healthily, these conditions should be discussed beforehand)! They see you as the ultimate prize, so if you delay their satisfaction, they’ll feel like they’re chasing again, which gets them off. They like to feel like they’re convincing you to sleep with them. You both are consenting, but they like the idea of you having better things to do and they’re trying to convince you to stay and party with them. 

They are very action-oriented and love movement. Anything that involves an adventure together, they are down for. 

PS. Surprise them with a bubble bath together, they’ll love that. And tease them while pulling their hair a bit!

Ode To My Darling Sun

#arijackz #pac #pick a card #tarot #tarot reading #pick a pile #astrology observations #muah

[elllisaaa]

no nut november - hwang hyunjin (1st to lose)

-> pairing : hyunjin x fem!reader

-> words count : 2,6k

-> genre : smut, etablished relation

-> warnings : slight pussydrunk!hyunjin, sending nudes, teasing, dirty talk, praising, unprotected sex, marking, oral (f. receiving), fingering, creampie, use of 'good girl', nipple play, begging + the way i'm depicting hyunjin does not represent him, it's only a work of fiction.

-> 18+ content bellow, minors dni

-> reblogs and feedbacks are appreciated ! sorry for any mistakes, english is not my first language

-> masterlist | skz masterlist | no nut november

When all the members agreed to this stupid bet, Hyunjin was determined not to lose, or at least, not to lose before Jisung. Everyone knew both of them would be the first to be out, it was obvious, but he had his pride. He just wanted to not be the first to lose. Because he had a bit of consciousness left ; his sex drive was too high to not do anything for a whole month, but one week, maybe he could handle it. 

He didn’t text you right away, thinking about all the things he had to do and that he would see you tonight ; he’ll tell you at this moment. But when he got home, you were not here, just a note saying you were spending the night at your best friend's because she wasn’t feeling well. Hyunjin didn’t think much of it, going on about his day casually texting with you. He didn’t recall the bet once because they had all agreed not to talk about it in order not to disturb them while they were working. 

It’s only when, three days after the agreement was made, you sent him a picture of you, wearing only your underwear, that he realized he totally forgot to tell you. He came very late last night and just wanted to sleep. And you left very early in the morning, which didn’t give him a chance to address a word to you. 

Hyunjin gulped loudly, closing his eyes and trying to think about all the most disgusting things he knew, just to stop the memories of you and your sweet voice moaning his name coming back into his mind. But it was too late. He had a bonner, and all he wanted was to came back home and fuck you. 

He resumed practicing his choreo, but all he was thinking about was you. Your face when he gave you what you wanted, your moans when he got down on you, your mouth wrapped around his cock, your tight little cunt that he was just wishing to be buried into right now. And all of that didn’t help him to calm down, nor the fact that you were actually still wearing only your underwear when he stepped into your apartment. He knew you were more comfortable like that when you were alone but you always put something back on before he got home - or you would end up fucking like bunnies everytime. But he came back earlier and the sight in front of his eyes was very, very tempting. 

“- Baby… Why are you doing this to me ?”

You turned around with a grin on your face, letting the meal you were cooking warm up behind you, still not aware of how difficult you were making it for him to keep his calm. 

“- Doing what ? Thought you liked it…”

You stopped the gas under your pot before stepping closer to him, noticing how tense his jaw was. 

“- Are you alright Jinnie ?

- Yeah, yeah, don’t worry. You’re just… I can’t resist.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle at his compliment. You always liked men being vocal about how much you were driving them crazy, and Hyunjin just reinforced that by telling you everything that crossed his mind at every moment. 

“- Why would you have to resist though ? I’m here to please you.”

You smiled once again, finally reaching him and pecking his lips, making him gasp and going stiff. 

“- I… Me and the boys made a bet.”

You frowned and tilted your head to the side, wondering which dumb shit it was this time, and if it was coming from your boyfriend or Jisung. 

“- And what is it ?

- No nut november.”

The laugh that escaped your lips was so loud that Hyunjin was torn between finding your smile beautiful and feeling vexed that you thought he was so bad at controlling himself. The pout on his face told you exactly that when you were finally able to look at him again. You put your hands on his cheeks, still smiling from ear to ear. 

“- And you agreed ?

- Yeah, why ?

- Baby… We both know that you won’t last a week in this. You’re so hard right now, and I haven’t done anything yet.”

Hyunjikn groaned, closing his eyes to stop himself from looking at your thighs, and your lips, and your whole body. Still, you were absolutely right. He knew he wouldn’t last long, but he thought he was stronger than that. While he was thinking, you started to run your fingers through his hair, kissing his cheeks but never his lips. 

“- So ? Am I still “so in for it” or not ?”

He thought about it for a moment. Yes, he would never hear the end of it if he lost on the third day, and Jisung’s ego will get even bigger. But what was the point ? He didn’t want not to touch you for a month when you were literally his stress reliever. 

Without saying a word nor answering to you, he put his hands on your hips and his lips on yours, making you smile into your passionate kiss. He gave up so much more easily than you thought, but you weren’t going to complain. Hyunjin broke the kiss just to let his eyes wander all over your half-naked body. 

“- Like what you see ?”

He licked his lips, his hands sliding from your hips to your ass with a grin on his face. And even if you should be used to it, the fact that he was effortlessly so hot still made a shiver run down your spine.

“- So much… Makes me want to fuck you right now.”

Your own hands slipped under the hem of his shirt, your fingers running across his warm skin. And it was driving him crazy. It’s been three days since he had felt your touch for the last time, and he didn’t want to contain himself any more. It’s already been too long for him. 

Hyunjin pushed your hips into his, letting you feel his hard cock under his clothes, and kissed you once again. You could feel his heated skin through his still clothed body. And that was driving you insane. You could make fun of Hyunjin all you wanted, but you knew you were not any better. You couldn’t have resisted him more than he did. Your sex drive was as high as his, but you were grateful he gave in first - wouldn’t have been good for your image. 

Soon enough, you felt Hyunjin’s tongue licking your lips, and you opened your mouth with a little whimper, kissing him hungrily while your hands were gripping his shirt, forcing him to break the kiss to take it off. You stepped back and settled on top of the kitchen’s counter, and then pulled Hyunjin between your legs, your face inches away from his. 

“- Then fuck me Jinnie… I want you so bad…”

And that did it for him. Hyunjin let his head fall into your neck, sucking on it, licking it, biting it, and making you moan and tug his hair in your fingers. His own hand already found the clip of your bra and took it off. His lips traced a trail from your neck to your nipples that he quickly took in his mouth, getting you to whine his name and grip tightly at his roots. 

“- I missed feeling your skin…”

You smiled at how innocent this comment was even though Hyunjin was playing with your breast, and that his lips were making their way to your soaked panties. Your boyfriend was always eager to eat you out. Of course he loved it when you sucked him off, but he could spend hours between your legs without getting tired of your taste, or the noise you were making every time he did. And well, you couldn’t protest when he was this good with his mouth. 

Hyunjin kept eye contact with you while he slowly took off your panties. He threw them away somewhere in the room, kissing your inner thighs and making his way to your cunt. You sighed, relaxing completely under his touch, spreading your legs wide and tugging at his hair. When he finally put his mouth on your clit, you moaned and closed your eyes shut, the familiar rush of pleasure coursing through your veins. 

“- God… I wouldn’t have survived one month without your mouth on me…”

Hyunjin chuckled against you, sending vibrations that made you shiver. He stuck his tongue out, practically making out with your clit as you were clenching around nothing, whining and grinding against his face.

“- You really love tasting me baby, don’t you… ?”

You let out a shaky breath when your boyfriend pressed a finger against your entrance, teasing you a bit before pushing it between your folds and making you moan loudly. He didn’t stop licking you all this time, a mix of his saliva and your juices dripping down from your cunt to the counter beneath you. 

“- Yeah… Pussy drunk are you ? Of course you are… Look at you baby, face buried into me like you didn’t eat me out just three days ago…”

As much as you liked teasing him, it was getting difficult to even think of a single thing, and your words were quickly replaced by never ending and louder moans each time his now two fingers pressed against your sweet spot. You just stopped talking for a while, the heat in your body starting to get unbearable. 

“- Jinnie… P-Please… A little more… Just n-need… More…”

Hyunjin almost whined at you begging for him, for his tongue and fingers to give you what you were waiting for. Your hands were gripping his hair tight, and he could have come untouched just from the feeling and the view of your blissed out face. But he wanted to be in you so bad, he just pressed his tongue harder on your clit, overstimulating you a bit while you were coming just for him. 

He let you come back from your orgasm while he was wiping off your juices that dripped on his chin. Hyunjin smiled at you when you opened your eyes, looking so fucked out he just wanted to burry himself deep in you. 

“- Wouldn’t survive a month without eating you out…”

You heard his mumbled words and it made you laugh : you two were definitely not made for this type of challenge, but it didn’t even cross your mind as you kissed Hyunjin and your hands were sliding his pants down his thighs, his boxer following quickly. 

“- Want you in me…”

You were asking for it so sweetly, how could he say no to you ? (and yes, he had convinced himself that he caved in only because you were looking really gorgeous, not because he couldn’t hold back anymore.) Hyunjin guided his cock to your cunt, letting only the tip slide into you. 

“- How much do you want it love ? Tell me… ”

He liked to tease you just before entering you, just before he couldn’t tease anymore because he was always too far gone in your warm, tight, wet cunt. He was crazy over you, over this feeling. But at the same time, he couldn’t resist the urge to hear you beg for him, for his cock one more time. 

“- P-Please… 

- Please what ?

- Want your dick in me… Want you to be rough…

- That’s my good girl…"

You almost cried at the feeling of him entering you fully, making you feel on the verge of tears from the overwhelming feeling of his warm body against yours. Hyunjin’s lips were only inches from yours and you leaned in to kiss him hungrily while he was putting his hands on your waist and started to move back and forth. Both your moans were muffled by your messy kisses, feeling saliva drip from your mouth to your chin, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care when his dick in you felt like heaven. 

“- Shit… You’re so tight love… 

- Just for you… For your big cock…

- Yeah ? Big enough for your little wet cunt ?

- Fuck ! Yes… Don’t stop… C-Close…”

As your second orgasm was approaching, you started to lose your words, only capable of letting out some words here and there, and rutting your hips against Hyunjin. You nuzzled your face into his neck, muffling your moans against the sensitive skin, making your boyfriend shiver, loving to be so close to him, even though his pace was all but romantic. 

“- Gonna cum love ?

- Y-Yeah… Keep going p-please…”

Hyunjin sped up the rhythm of his hips, feeling you getting tighter with each thrusts, then getting sloppier and messier, telling you he was also almost there too. You also knew he liked to be praised when he was about to come. So you did just that.

“- You’re making me feel so good baby, so full… Love it when you lose control like this, just for me… You’re going to make me come with your big dick…”

Your boyfriend moaned against your lips, his forehead pressed against yours and his fingers digging into the skin of your hips so deep you hesitated between whining in pleasure or in pain. 

“- Ah- So good for me Hyunjin… Want you to fill me up… Come on, give it to me…”

“- Baby… Fuck !”

And that did it for Hyunjin. It only took him a couple more thrusts before he reached his high, cumming hard inside of you. And the feeling of his hot seed spilling in your cunt pushed you over the edge too, crying out in pleasure, joining the fucked out songs your boyfriend was letting out as he continued moving until it all started to feel too much. 

Both of you needed a moment to come back to reality, looking each other in the eyes and smiling softly before sharing a sweet kiss. You sighed, leaning totally against Hyunjin’s firm body while he stocked your back softly. You didn’t know what was to gain if he won the bet, but judging by your actual state, you didn’t care much, rather not at all. 

“- Go to the shower baby, I’ll warm up our meal and we could watch the drama we started last time. How’s that sound ?

- Perfect. I love you so much…”

You giggled before kissing him and muttering an “I love you too” against his lips. You pushed him away from you, just so you could get down off of the counter and put back your underwear, preventing his cum from spilling out of you and dripping down your thighs. Hyunjin stared at you, frowning and you understood something was bothering him.

“- What ?

- Sure you don’t need help to clean up ?

- Yes, I’m sure. I can do that myself, and I know you need your shower after work.”

Hyunjin took you in by your waist to kiss you before gathering his spare clothes on the floor and getting to the bathroom. Once there, he took his phone out of his pants, sending a message in the group chat.

Hyunjin shutted his phone off for the night, wanting to enjoy this moment with his sweet girlfriend that he could have whenever he wanted while the other would have to contain themselves. And for him, that was the real victory.

-> i don't allow any copies, reposts or translations of my work.

taglist - @bangchans-angel @its-hannjisung @3rachasninja @boi-bi-ahaha @supergoopjudgepyschic @jaiuneamesolitaiire @starsandrqindrops @anonymousreader55 @iwannabangchan69 @b3tOxic @fawnpeaks @lxrii @channiesgoodgirl @imsotiredandalsonineteen @bbchangbinnie24 @abbystaysstuff @chrishak @cscsi @minskzy @hyunlixs-wife0309 @stayconnecteed @miserya99 (if your pseudo is crossed out, it's because I can't tag you and you'll have to change your settings)

#skz x reader #skz x yn #stray kids fics #stray kids x reader #hyunjin smut #hyunjin x reader #skz smut #nnn #nnn skz #no nut november

[faeriekit]

Feet on the Ground

loose phic phight fill for @oldfashionedbattlehymn

warnings for: murder attempt, discussion of child death

********

Danny wakes up in a garbage bag.

It isn’t as gross as it sounds. Danny’s the only thing in there, and it’s not like the lack of air is going to kill him; he could rip his way out, but honestly, going intangible is just as effective and twice as easy.

And, of course, once he’s phased his way out of the dumpster behind the gas station, Danny is very, very grateful that he didn’t even try. Everything else in there is….eeugh. He shivers.

Well. It’s got to be early morning now—it’s dark. There’s no other cars on the highway. Even the gas station itself is closed, and the stars have already lost their spark.

Time to head home.

*

Danny wakes up behind the gas station. Again.

…Okay?

The first time, Danny had just assumed he’d fallen asleep somewhere weird while flying around the neighborhood, but a second time is a pattern. It’s definitely not his fault this time either, because there’s no way he would have duct taped his arms and legs together or slapped a gag on his mouth.

That’s kind of. Ominous.

Danny frees himself of the garbage bag first— and thank goodness he doesn’t have to breathe— he floats himself out of the bag and the dumpster, which had…thankfully been given a good scrubbing since last time? There’s some other trash, apparently, but nothing sharp enough to cut through his durable, tape-based bonds. It takes some finagling and some eye lasers for Danny to finally get his arms free.

And. Hoo Boy. There’s no more liberating a feeling than peeling tape off your mouth, even if your mouth skin kind of comes off with it and you bleed a little. But it’s fine! It’s green, which means it’ll heal.

Fabulous. Danny zooms off invisibly into the night, more than willing to put the night behind him.

*

…Okay, the third time is what makes it more than a coincidence.

Danny shucks out of the bruise-tight ropes around his wrists, torso, knees, and legs, spits out his gag, and flies home. He finally has to give into the inevitable, and attempts the last resort:

“Jazz?” he whispers, slowly rocking his sister in her bed. Jazz mumbles in her sleep.

“Jaaaaazzy…” Danny tries again, trying not to look either too spooky or too imposing. Jazz’s reflexes are such that—

The laser she keeps under her pillow goes off. Danny loses a few millimeters of hair, which means that her aim is getting better.

 He doesn’t have any trouble seeing in the dark (or, uh, not anymore, anyway), but it’s easy to see Jazz’s sleepy squint as she pulls herself somewhat upright. More like a shrimp with scoliosis, but, well. You know.

“Whuh,” Jazz asks. “...Danny?”

“Hey,” Danny whispers, a ghost at her bedside. Jazz grunts. “Uh. What does it mean when you keep waking up in a trash bag behind the gas station?”

Jazz blinks. Jazz rubs her eyes. Jazz blinks again, looking more sleepy than coherent but at least somewhat aware of her surroundings.

“Garbage bag?” Jazz asks blearily. “You were in a garbage bag?”

“Yeah,” Danny whispers back. “My legs were tied down?”

“...Danny, were you murdered?”

Danny stops.

“Huh?” says Danny.

*

“So, if you look here,” Tucker points out, finger not quite touching the glass of his CRT monitor, “That’s when Danny gets murdered.”

There is a collective eeew from the assembled viewers— Jazz, Sam, and Danny, all crowded in Tucker’s room.

“Yeah, Tucker agrees. The light from the black-and-white footage flashes in the reflection of his glasses. “Here’s where he’s tossed in…there. And this is when they tossed him in the dumpster.”

There’s no sound on the gas station surveillance footage, but Danny imagines that his body clanged on the way in. What the hell. Danny got murdered behind a gas station, and he didn’t even notice?!

They watch the archived footage of a Ford F-150 driving off the property, and then Danny’s dead body being unceremoniously tossed in a dumpster. It’s kind of surreal. No one had noticed. There was no one to report the crime committed.

“I can’t believe that guy just clocked you over the head, like that,” Sam points out. “It’s just a regular car jack. It shouldn’t have gotten you in the first place.”

The observation isn’t appreciated.

“Be nice! My brother was just murdered,” Jazz scolds. Danny doesn’t think she sounds as offended as she should be. “Either way, it’s certainly an attempted murder, if not a successful one. We have to do something.”

“…Can’t we just call the cops?” Tucker asks, turning away from the computer. “I mean. Look. That’s proof. We have proof right here.”

Sure enough, there is footage. Right there. There’s Danny’s murder, in 240p black and white.

“Where’s the body?” Sam asks dryly, and. Uh. That’s a problem they’ll have to solve.

Everyone looks at everyone else. No one has a good solution.

“…Do we have to do this?” Tucker realizes at the same second as the rest of them.

Jazz looks at Danny. Danny looks at Sam. Sam looks at Tucker.

Tucker stares back at them, entirely unenthused with the conclusion they’ve come to.

“…Okay then,” Jazz exhales. “How do you want to do this?”

*

Sam ends up on top of the gas station, a cell phone in her hand.

Tucker, PDA in hand, sits in Jazz’s passenger seat. The camera feed is ongoing and recording for posterity.

Jazz taps her fingers on the wheel of her car. There isn’t anywhere better to hide than down the road and around the corner, so she does, hoping that they’re on the other end of the road from whoever’s killing her brother every night.

Danny is, of course, wandering through the neighborhood.

Losing her baby brother—on purpose—is the worst thing Jazz can imagine. She feels sick. She wants to throw him into the car and speed away, and break every speed limit law in the county on her way out. She wants to pack him in bubble wrap and ship him expedited to France.

But she does leave her brother alone. She lets Tucker look over the footage as Danny roams around town, just as unaware and unsuspecting as his last few outings.

Tucker sees the man first.

He bolts upright, eyes on his PDA. “Jazz.”

Her head whips around. They watch, silently, as someone approaches Danny’s lone figure on the doorstep outside the gas station.

They can’t hear anything. That’s the scariest part.

“Call,” Jazz demands. Tucker does.

Doubtlessly, on the roof of the gas station, Sam is dialing too.

*

So. Danny knows this guy.

And. Uh. It’s kind of embarrassing; he’d asked if Danny was okay walking home alone at night a few hours before his dumpster wake-up call, and Danny had said it was fine.

Apparently, no, it wasn’t fine. That being said, Danny hadn’t been expecting a guy in a button-up and khakis to be the guy murdering him on the down low. He kind of looks like the dude who sells you televisions and burner phones at a Wal-Mart.

The guy comes all the way over to where Danny is sitting on the thin concrete step of the gas station. His breath fogs up from the weather and his eyes rake over Danny, up and down; down and up.

“Hey,” he says, looking all the world like any other concerned citizen. Danny’s heart throbs. “It’s cold outside. You need a ride back to town?”

“…No,” says Danny, who doesn’t.

“Your mom okay with you comin’ home late by yourself?” the man asks nervously, hands going to his hair.

Danny thinks about how many times he’s woken up in the dumpster. He thinks about seeing his own body on the camera tape. Prone. Dead.

“You still keep a car jack in your passenger seat?” Danny asks instead.

The man freezes. An attempted murderer he might be, but he’s not exactly an Oscar-winning actor. “What?”

“The car jack,” Danny repeats. He doesn’t know if he’s mad the man keeps targeting him, or whether he’s grateful Danny’s the only one who’s died so far. “It’s got a lot of sharp corners. They hurt, you know.”

The man…carefully laughs the statement off, but he looks. Nervous.

Danny doesn’t really need to confront him; he only has to stall long enough that Tucker or Sam can call the cops, so that they can see this man’s face and get him on the record. But.

There’s a part of Danny…

The man looks so human. Flush with blood. Solid enough to break. Fragile enough to be made broken.

Danny still resents being made dead. This man didn’t kill Danny—not in any way that mattered, but he’s an easy target.

He doesn’t breathe. The man watches a boy sit in the shadows of a building where he’s been dumping bodies, and Danny can taste his fear.

“It hurt a lot,” Danny says, and he isn’t referring to waking up in the bags every couple of mornings in the last few weeks. “It hurt so much. I was screaming.”

The man is silent.

“Do you like to hear the screaming?” Danny asks, suddenly curious. Did he care, if Danny had screamed, or if he had been too unaware to notice he was dying? Would he have cared, if there were others more breakable than Danny that he had hurt?

He doesn’t answer.

“I don’t like it,” Danny confesses. In a horrible way, it’s easy to tell his would-be murderer about his death—unlike Tucker or Sam, who witnessed it, or Jazz, who loves him, this man can’t be affected by Danny’s take on his own death. In fact, if he is hurt by the thought of Danny’s death…good. It’s better if he is. If there is remorse in him. “I don’t like to hear screaming. I screamed for so long, and so loud. It felt like forever.”

The man’s hands curl. He steps back.

Danny can’t help but to frown. If he leaves, the whole point of calling the cops will be for nothing, and he’ll be warier of coming back to where Danny’s body was dropped. “Where are you going?”

The man takes another step back. Danny rockets upright. He’s on his feet in seconds. “Weren’t you here for me?” Danny asks, genuinely confused, arms outstretched. “We’re here. You dumped me here over and over again.”

“Shut up,” the man snaps, startling the both of them with his volume. “He—you’re not real. You’re… Be quiet. I have real things to get done tonight!”

Danny’s dead heart throbs. Is there another dead kid? Did Danny let another kid get killed in Danny’s place? “Do you?”

The man loses his voice.

“We’re already here,” Danny points out. He steps closer—closer to the truck that drove his dead body around town, further from the dumpster where his body had been dropped. The disposal hadn’t been a funeral, but it’s closer than anything Danny’s ever had. “You’re here. I’m here. Aren’t you here for me?”

A choked breath. Danny gets closer. The ectoplasm in his skin is too warm and too cold—but he has no idea what he looks like from the outside. Is he glowing? Is he see-through? Does he just look like any other dead kid: a little too cold, a little too pale?

They’re eye to increasingly shorter eye. Up close, the man just looks like any other guy. Shaved in the face. Wrinkles around his eyes. A nose. A mouth.

Danny’s not afraid of him. His head tilts. “You’ve already killed me three times. What are you going to do now? I’ll just come back again. I won’t even notice. I died. I know what you look like—I know how to find you. It’ll be easy.”

The man’s pupils dilate—

And then there’re hands on Danny’s neck. And. It’s kind of painful, but Danny doesn’t have to breathe. So. He just kind of…pretends to be hurt?

He’s meant to be stalling for time. The cops are coming. All he needs is time.  

So Danny makes some somewhat dramatic sounds and kicks out with his feet, because a fight lasts longer than a passive victim. He lands a hit to the man’s stomach, and another to his chest—he doesn’t drop Danny the way Danny might have expected, but Danny isn’t going to run out of air, so this can last forever until the man lets go. Or does something.

“Stop— coming— back,” the man snarls, and suddenly sounds nothing like the dudes who man the tech counter at the Walmart. “I got you— you should be gone!” 

Danny is gone. But he’s also here. And he’s also been gone for a very long time, and he’s also getting choked out by a guy in a gas station parking lot. It’s been a rough few hours of waiting for this dude. He might as well make it worth it. 

So maybe his body turns a little translucent. Just a little. Just enough to see the streetlight through his skin, probably, and the hazy road behind them. 

Getting thrown to the concrete hurts, but, you know, not as badly as getting tossed into a wall by Skulker on a rampage. Danny’s barely going to be bruised after this. 

The guy runs to his car, and Danny frowns, scrambling back up, and, wait. Wouldn’t having bruises be better? As evidence? They better not heal too quickly, or else that’ll be it of his physical proof. 

“Where are you going?” Danny asks, more perplexed and angry than anything. Isn’t he supposed to try to kill the witness??

But the guy hauls butt into the cab of his truck— and then the lights go on and the tires start spinning, the engine roaring to life. 

If Danny wasn’t actively on camera at the moment, it would be easy to fly after the car. As it is, he’s pretty fast, but he’s not quite quick enough on his feet to chase after a pickup truck careening down the highway in the dark. 

The man’s gone in a few seconds. Honestly, Danny’s kind of annoyed about the whole thing. It would have been nice for it to work. 

Sam climbs down from the roof of the gas station, phone in her hand. “No, I just— he choked out my friend and drove off! Send someone over here already!! You— do you need the license plate again?!” 

Danny just looks at her. Sam covers her phone’s mic with a hand: “They’re saying five minutes,” she mouths. 

Great. 

Danny hunkers down, throat bruising, and Sam sits down beside him. They wait.  

By the time the cops pull into the gas station, the guy’s more than out of sight. Sam’s the one who takes the lead on dictating their story. Danny sort of doesn’t realize how out of it he is until someone tries to throw a shock blanket on him. He almost hits the guy square in the face— and Sam’s the one who has to catch his arm. 

Uh. Oops. 

Jazz and Tucker roll in, hardly pretending to have not been nearby; Jazz wraps her arms around him, and Danny lets her. 

Sue him. It’s late. He’s tired. 

“...And I can’t believe you weren’t able to get down the road in time to catch a man who choked out my best friend,” Sam snaps, which, aw! Danny’s a best friend. The cop she’s attempting to strip down for parts looks less sympathetic than Danny feels. “You’re barely a ten minute drive up the highway! What were you doing, meandering?” 

“No,” the cop grits out, eying Sam like a bug on his shoe. “We were telling the officer down the road what to look out for.” 

Apparently, jamming the gas down hard enough to bust your speedometer gets you pulled over at the speed check. 

The night is over before Danny knows it. Someone gets him to the station, someone takes photos of his bruises and takes his statement. Someone calls Mom and Dad and then Danny’s in the GAV, half asleep and exhausted beyond belief. 

He falls asleep on the couch, Mom’s fingers in his hair. 

*

It’s not like the Amity Park police tell them anything, but Jazz is the one who finds the report on the news. 

She records it on the TiVo for him. 

“Eustace Miller, from Tennessee,” Sam reads aloud, knee to knee on his couch. Tucker adjusts his glasses. “Looks like he was already on the run.” 

“Or as good as,” Tucker agrees quietly. “Looks like they’re pinning a couple of cold cases to him.” 

They watch; there’s pictures of him from his hometown, and from the towns he would visit on his joyride across the country. There were pictures of his family. There were pictures of kids Danny would never meet: kids who were already dead, and who had been for months. Years, even. 

They’d looked so happy in the photos from when they were alive. 

…Danny could relate. 

Jazz turns the report off that night, thumb on the power button. And that’s all it takes for Danny to stop waking up in a trash bag. 

#phic phight 2024 #tw murder #tw child murder #tw death #I think that covers it??? #wait #tw choking #there we go #Danny works out some of his feelings about dying young #danny phantom #phic phight #this is very quickly being edited and posted on lunch break please bear w/ me #faer fic #sam manson #tucker foley #jazz fenton

[jazzyoranges]

Introverted

Tara Carpenter x fem!reader

Summary: you’re not much of a talker. that said, your lack of words doesn’t get in the way of meeting your (girl)friend’s sister

Words: 1.4k

A/n: mostly told through the pov of Sam cause i was feeling extra freaky and wanted to do something super crazy and unseen before

Warnings: alcohol consumption, that literally might be it

Sam was trusting her gut. Her gut said you were good for Tara but her past experiences said you couldn’t be trusted. Luckily she listened to nobody but Tara when it came to you. After all, Sam did promise she’d let sister live her life without her constantly looming over her

So Sam trusted Tara instead. Of course, the older Carpenter sister was still weary of you when her sister wanted you to come over and hang out with the core four, as Chad liked to call them. The name was never officially adopted but nobody ever stopped the boy from calling them that

She’s heard of your name through stories her little sister has told her. Sam was already aware of how you didn’t like talking. You watched and listened, always aware of everything around you. Not to mention you’re scary as shit - Tara’s words not hers. Countless times have there been when a protective arm around Tara’s shoulder and a glare were enough for anyone to back off. Sam’s thought of getting a dog for its scary privileges but it seems her sister already had scary friend privileges

A knock on their door sends Tara running to open it with Sam not too far behind. You were early. Wanted to make a good first impression, Sam guessed

“Thank you for giving her a chance, Sam. this means a lot to me.” Tara gives her sister a quick hug before opening the door. Sam doesn’t expect you to bring a gift as well

You tower over Tara. Maybe it was because you were tall, maybe it’s because her sister was short as shit. There are two wine bottles of a brand Sam’s never even heard of in your hands and Tara gives you a hug while you reciprocate with one arm

“This is for you. Thank you for letting me into your home. Your hospitality is appreciated.” You give a small bow before handing her the bottle. It catches Sam off guard. She didn’t want to admit it but she was already impressed. Or her expectations bar was set at an all time low. Probably the latter

Tara led you to their living room before coming back to Sam

“That was good! She usually only says hello when she meets new people. I think she might’ve said more words to you than Mindy and Chad combined”

“Really not a talker then, huh?”

“Definitely not. Will you open the door for the other two?”

“Yeah I will. Go spend some time with her”

The twins arrive ten minutes late but in their defense they were getting pizza for the night. Mindy almost immediately whistles at the wine you brought and opens it up

Sam finds you and Tara, well, just Tara laughing about something. Her sister said you weren’t much of a talker - not even talking to the twins very much - yet it seemed you were in deep conversation with Tara. Sam’s sister senses were tingling and they were very rarely wrong

The night continues without much falter. Everyone drinks, board games and video games alike are played, and nothing seems to be different. Other than you of course. You were so quiet sometimes Sam forgot you were there in the first place. You had a way of disappearing but always coming back when Tara talked to you. Sam’s sister senses were really tingling

You’d whisper something in Tara’s ear and she’d smile like she’s holding in the biggest laugh ever. Hell, after a few hours (and probably the wine) Sam saw you giving her sister small smiles and tiny laughs of your own. She couldn’t lie, it was astonishingly cute how her usually chipper sister was so amazed by someone so opposite of her.

Even later into the night, your little conversations with Tara seem to stop. It was around the time the twins stopped forcing you to play games and they settled on a movie to watch. Sam watches her little sister as she tugs on your shirt and whispers something in your ear. You nod and before she knows it, you walk out to their balcony that looked over the busy streets

“Why’s she out there?” Sam asks Tara after you’ve left

“She needs to recharge her social battery. Give her some time, she’ll come back”

//-//

You haven’t come back inside their apartment for about an hour, Sam notices

Tara’s accidentally fallen asleep on the couch while Mindy and Chad seem to be binging the entire Marvel Cinematic Universe with a bowl of popcorn cradled in between them. Sam didn’t remember buying popcorn but then again she also believed the twins were somehow magical when it came to food. Popcorn was probably the least of her worries

So Sam took her chance to talk to you. Walking to the sliding door to their balcony, the older Carpenter makes sure to not make any sudden movements. You’re leaning against the metal railing so Sam decides to join you

“You feeling okay? You haven’t come in for a while.”

“I’m fine. Thank you for asking.”

Silence passes. Sam hopes it isn’t awkward for you

“(Y/n), I’ve got a question.” Sam doesn’t get a verbal answer but she does get your attention and a nod to keep going

“How’d you meet Tara?”

“Someone was looking at her weird at a party. I scared him off. He was known for not being a good person.”

“You’re observant, huh? That’s a good trait to have.”

“Thank you. I didn’t want her to make a mistake.”

“Thanks for scaring him off.”

“Anyone would’ve done it.”

A few beats of silence pass before Sam talks again. She didn’t expect you to start the conversation, which was alright with her. It gave her more control

“Can I ask you another question?” Another nod from you.

“Tara said you didn’t like talking much. Be honest, am I making you uncomfortable?”

“No. You want to know more about me because you care about your sister.” You pause. “I’m also a little drunk.”

The older Carpenter lets herself laugh. Big sister like little sister, she guesses.

“I like your honesty.”

“There’s no point in wasting breath on a lie.”

“Well, I hope we’ll have more conversations in the future.” Sam gets up from where she’s leaning on the balcony, moving to the door

“Why’re you leaving? I assumed you wanted to ask me more things.”

“You’d be okay with that?”

“The conversations in our future will only be answered by me nodding my head or not. I’m still drinking, you may as well ask now.” Swirling around your wine, you take a long sip. For courage, you know?

“You’ve caught me off guard here. That was all I planned.”

“We can just talk.”

“About?”

“Anything. Maybe Tara. We have her in common.” Your eyes glance back to the younger Carpenter fast asleep on the couch while Chad and Mindy were laughing about god knows what. Sam follows your gaze

Looking at you as you stare at Tara, Sam recognizes that look. She’s seen it before but a little different. It’s how Sam looks at Tara. It was always adoration and protection with the older Carpenter, but for you there was something different. Somewhere in your blank eyes and your monotone voice, you loved Tara. Sam could see it almost clear as day.

“You’re right. We do have her in common, don’t we?”

//-//

“C’mon, it’s not responsible to drink and drive. And I thought you were the one always telling me to be safe”

“I’m not too drunk. I don’t want to overstay my welcome.”

“Hey, you’re welcome to stay” Sam buts into you and Tara’s conversation. “You can sleep with Tara or I could set up the couch for you?”

“I see. Only if you’re positive I can stay.” You look away before meeting Sam’s eyes. “I’d like to sleep in Tara’s room for tonight. We’ll… keep the door open.”

“No need.” Sam winks before going back to her own room for the night. Fuck that felt weird. She should go to sleep before she tried to be the cool sister again

//-//

“I hope I made a good first impression.”

“Are you kidding? That was great! You did great”

“Thank you. I want Sam to like me.”

“Where was this attitude with Mindy and Chad?”

“They’re knuckleheads. Your sister isn’t.”

Sam’s never been happier the walls of their apartment were like paper. Not much of a talker her ass.

#jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega #tara carpenter x reader #scream #tara carpenter #scream 6 #jenna marie ortega #tara carpenter scream #sam carpenter #chad meeks martin #mindy meeks martin

[starry-bi-sky]

Danyal Al Ghul: Incorrect Quotes and Miscellaneous Thoughts

Incorrect quotes-style snippets specifically for my danyal al ghul au here (which i really need to come up with a unique au name for atp). Because I thought it'd be funny. And also some miscellaneous headcanons thrown into the mix. Some context for the au: - Danyal is 5 years older than Damian (so 10 and 15) - Danny faked his death when he was 10. Talia knows and helped him with it. - Jazz, Sam, and Tucker do not know he's an ex-assassin.

-------- Snippet 1

Danny, dryly tapping his temple: I have, as the Americans say, irreparable psychological damage, right here.

Jazz, an older sibling first and foremost: well, it's good that you're self-aware.

-------- Snippet 2

Danny, aged 10, in the American foster planning to just age out of the system: *emanating Bad Vibes. Pure, Little Orphan Tom Riddle Energy*

Jazz, aged 12, coming in to adopt a new sibling with her parents: Him. This is my brother now :)

Danny: ...what

--------

Lilo and Stitch is Danny's favorite Disney movie. He watched it when he was 11 with Jazz when she was attempting to connect with him, and by this point Danny was becoming receptive to her efforts. They had a movie marathon in the living room one night.

Safe to say? It resonated with his little 11 year old heart strongly, and he related very strongly with both Nani and Stitch. He got unexpectedly emotional and hid in his room for the rest of the night. Jazz felt really bad, but it had the intended (but kinda unexpected) effect of him trying to be nicer to her afterwards.

-------- Snippet 3

Dash, aged 12, causing trouble again and getting intercepted by Danny: *scaling up a desk* AHHHHH! GET YOUR LITTLE FREAK, FOLEY!

Tucker: Hey! Danny is not a freak!

Dash: GET HIM TO BACK OFF

Tucker, was the kid Dash was messing with: ....whats in it for me

-------- Snippet 4

Danny, saying some questionably immoral shit: What. Why are you looking at me like that.

Tucker: Bro. I mean this as kindly as possible; what the fuck?

Sam: yeah, I'm with Tuck on this one.

-------- Snippet 5

Danny, ranting about Vlad: if it weren't for the laws of this land, I would have slaughtered him

Sam, painting his nails black: I'm pretty sure you'd slaughter him regardless of the laws of the land -- and quit moving, you're gonna mess me up.

Tucker: we've literally seen you debate yourself about this, Dan

Danny: ...you are correct, but it is the principle of things.

-------- Snippet 6

Vlad: I have experience my child, and the money and power attained through using those powers for personal gain, you say. I could train you, teach you everything I know! And all you have to do is renounce that idiot adoptive father of yours.

Danny, was already contemplating committing a Violence: ....

Danny, internally: I'm going to stab him *turns into Phantom*

--------

Funny contrast I realized between Danyal and Vlad that iirc I haven't pointed out yet is that imo, Danyal doesn't rely on his powers nearly half as much as canon Danny does. He falls back instinctually on his League training, and thus sometimes forgets to use his powers in battle. This was prevalent especially early on when he was still getting used to the whole 'halfa' thing.

He incorporates them more often after a year, but still for the most part relies on his own physical hand-to-hand combat. He trusts those skills much more than he does his powers. I'm not sure where he is on a technical level compared to canon, but just to stay safe I'll say he's similar in power skill as canon Danny. Perhaps a little more finessed than him because his League training would probably have him trying to figure out his powers as soon as possible.

But in summary? Danny is strong in hand-to-hand combat, weak in powerset.

Meanwhile Vlad is the opposite. I can't recall if he even knows hand-to-hand in canon, but it makes total sense to me that Vlad Masters wouldn't because he's so confident in his monetary influence and ghost abilities that he sees no need for it.

And he's kinda got some merit behind it. He's very powerful and has 20 years of experience to experiment and fine tune his powers. He's got bite to follow up his bark. He's perfected long-range combat and his ability to phase through walls makes it impossible to corner him, but if you can manage it, then one good hit could probably knock him on his ass.

So in summary, Vlad is strong in powerset, weak in hand-to-hand combat.

And it casts a good contrast between the two of them in that regard. Danny, as a fellow halfa, can follow Vlad when he phases through walls and is fast enough to land a hit on him. His league training as an assassin, albeit rusty, is still deep ingrained enough in him that he can hold up as a rather veritable threat against Vlad without needing his powers.

But Vlad can force Danny to use his powers more often through use of his own. The duplication is the first thing to come to mind: Danny's fast enough to dispel them on his own without powers, and smart enough that he could figure out who the real one is if given a few minute. But that's not always efficient enough.

Good foils for each other that way. Also Vlad's Plasmius design mimics Ra's juuust enough that he looks like Ra's knockoff loser second cousin no one talks about, which only fuels Danny's hatred.

-------- Snippet 7

Danny, ranting about Vlad for the first time: --and it's only made worse by the fact that the little ingrate resembles a cheap knock-off of my grandfather!--

Sam, choking on her water: he what--

Tucker, doing a spittake: HE DOES?

#dpxdc #dp x dc #danny fenton is not the ghost king #dp x dc crossover #dpxdc crossover #danyal al ghul au #i have a doodle of that little scene with vlad actually. its in my notebook lmao. #danny gets *furiously* shakespearan when he's insulting someone. sam and tucker have recorded some of his rants #and they are just pure gold. #sam and tucker calling danny 'dan' as a nickname 2024. #which reminds me about how TUE would even happen. someone in my ao3 comments made a good point about how they weren't sure if my danyal #would even have a TUE occur because he's not the cheating type. i've seen clips of how he got his hands on the test answers but i'll need t #watch the episode to gauge if Dan is even feasible. and if he is what changes to make him happen. hmmm. much to think about #don't think danyal would stay with vlad even in the midst of his grief. hmhmhm #dpdc

[helen-with-an-a]

I am an adult pt. 2

Hi. So this is part 2 to I am an adult. I already had an idea that I wanted to do another part but thank you to the Anon who gave me a good idea for it. I hope you enjoy it. <3

Barca Femeni x Reader

Part 1 : Part 2 : Part 3 : Part 3.5 : Part 4 : Part 5

TW: Angst

Word Count: 4k

Description: R realises she might not be as adult as she things she is

Everything was wonderful for the first few weeks after they came to your house. They calmed down, and you calmed down. It was great. But something felt … off. They stopped treating you like a child. Which is what you wanted, right? You had asked for this. You had asked them to stop policing your actions and criticising you. You wanted this. Then why did it feel so wrong?

You didn't go crazy; you continued your life as it always had been; movie nights with Patri, dinner with Pina, coffee with Ona. Everything was totally and completely normal. Except you no longer came home to text messages asking about your location or concerns over your safety. You no longer had Lucy reminding you about your weekly food shop that needed to match your nutritional needs. You no longer had Alexia helping you fill out your official government documents. You no longer had Marta and Caro texting you about your upcoming schedules. You no longer had Paños checking to ensure you were up at the correct times. Your safety net had slipped away, and you were dangling in the middle of open water without anyone to catch you.

But this was entirely of your own making. You didn't realise it, but you had failed to apologise to them. You had failed to act like the adult you thought you were and own up to your actions. They didn't realise it either, not consciously anyway, until a few days later. Paños watched you from the corner of her eye, goofing off with Mapi when she got a sour taste in her mouth. Ingrid had approached her to apologise for her behaviour when she snapped at them. The adult thing to do.

"Hey, Ale?" Paños caught Alexia's elbow, stopping her from moving away. "Did Y/N ever apologise to you? For shouting in the changing rooms?" Alexia frowned. No, you hadn't. You had shouted at her in front of your colleagues, your friends, and you hadn't said a word. Never mind that she was your captain. You yelled at someone in public when they only tried to help. And never said sorry. She shook her head. Sandra hummed and began making discreet enquiries about whether you had apologised to anyone else; over the past few months, you had been rude to all of them. Even Ingrid and Mapi when they had expressed concern over you going out for the third night in a row. They had all apologised to you, recognising their own faults with the extreme actions they had around you. But you didn't extend the same courtesy to them. The older teammates pulled back even further, annoyed with your behaviour and lack of ownership over them – again, it was something you weren't aware of, too busy in your bubble of newfound freedom.

Over the next three months or so, you were finding things increasingly more difficult. At first, it was the food shop. When you were with Alexia, she always kept something healthy in the freezer for you should you feel like food shopping was too much for you but you needed something in the fridge or pantry. After long days at the training centre and after matches, the last thing you wanted to do was go to the always-too-busy shops. So, you began ordering food some days of the week. It wasn't like you ordered anything too unhealthy; you always got something vaguely nutritious with vegetables, protein, and carbohydrates. Everything you need for a well-balanced meal. But with the increased deliveries, the carefully constructed budget that Alexia and Lucy had worked out for you began to crumble. Soon, your bank account was much less full than it once was.

It was a sunny morning in early May when things really hit the fan. You had been pulled into a conference room. It all looked very official. Men with official suits you didn't recognise sat on one end of the long table. The Barcelona Big Bosses, as you called them, were along another. Jonatan and Alexia sat on the third side of the table, leaving a single seat on the fourth. Jonatan looked concerned, the Big Bosses looked stern, and the Officials looked bored. Alexia looked furious – she refused to look at you, her hands fiddling with the pen in front of her.

"Hola," you said as you took your seat. Introductions were made, and something small and square was placed on the table in the middle.

Buen día. "Soy Carlos Álvarez y él es mi colega Juan Ramírez; trabajamos para el Departamento de Estado y hemos sido asignados a su caso." You stared at the Official blankly. Your Spanish had been improving, but he spoke too quickly for you to understand. "Le gustaría que esta entrevista se realizara en inglés?" You looked to Alexia for guidance, but she stayed staring at the papers in front of her.

"Um, lo siento, um, no en-entiendo. No hablo español," you responded. It was the phrase Lucy had taught you when you first arrived. The man gestured to one of the other Officials.

"My name is Juan Ramirez, and this is Carlos Álvarez; we are officers from the State Department assigned to your case." Your heart stopped. Did you have a case with the State Department? How? Why? Your fear must have shown on your face as Jonatan took pity on you.

"Y/N, you haven't filled out any tax forms or completed your Right to Work visa." Tax forms? A right-to-work visa? You have never had to fill any of those things out before.

"But … I've not completed those before."

"Yes, you have. Look." Juan handed you photocopies of filled-out forms, all with your name and information on them.

"I didn't …"

"I did it for you, Y/N," Alexia answered. "We used to sit down together and do it." When did you do that? You don't remember any forms.

"It shouldn't take too long to actually fill out the forms, but because they're late, you must go to court to hand them to the judges. Due to your status and job, you can stay in the country, but you cannot participate in matches or training until you have received confirmation from the State Department that you can work again." Juan explained. Court? No training? No matches? "We will also have to freeze your salary. It will be back-dated once you have the necessary documentation, but as of right now, you cannot receive any more money for FC Barcelona or anyone else in Spain." No more money? You were really starting to panic. What did they mean you couldn't be paid? You tried frantically to get Alexia's attention, but she refused to meet your eyes.

The rest of the meeting was a blur. You had been escorted to the mercifully empty changing rooms and gathered your things. As you entered the main corridor, you met an incensed Alexia, with Marta, Paños, Patri and Irene standing behind her. The captains.

You went to open your mouth when Alexia cut you off. "I don't want to hear a word from you. How could you be so irresponsible? You said you wanted to be treated like an adult, yet you do something as stupid as this. You could be deported, Y/N. You could be banned from ever entering Spain again."

"I know, but-"

"Do you? Do you know? You said you wanted to be treated like the adult you claimed you are, but you are not acting like one. Adults take responsibility for their own actions. Adults apologise to their friends for shouting at them. Adults can complete simple forms that take only a few minutes to complete. Adults act like adults," she continued. You felt a singular tear roll down your cheek. "And now you're crying," Alexia threw her hands in the air. "You wanted to be an adult, and you failed." That stung. But it wasn't a lie either. And that made it hurt worse. "Adults own up to their consequences and deal with them."

"Alright, Ale. I think she gets it." Patri tried to help you. She was one of your best friends, after all.

"Does she? Do you understand? Do you understand how much trouble you are in? Not just with me or the club but with the government?"

"Yes," you whispered so quietly that she barely heard you. She straightened to her full height, chest puffed out, shoulders back.

"You will not have contact with anyone from this club until you have received confirmation that you are allowed to work here. I will not allow you to drag them into your mess. When you are allowed back to train, you will be on the pitch every day at 7 am. You will complete extra laps before and after training until I deem it appropriate for you to stop. You will apologise to every single person who works for FC Barcelona for the hassle you have created for them. You will have to earn your right to even sit on the bench, let alone play or be a part of the Starting XI. You will have to earn back our respect, not just as a player, but as a person." Alexia said icily before pushing past you. The others followed suit, slightly concerned for you but still following their captain's lead. Patri gently patted your shoulder as she went.

You made it about 5 minutes into your car journey home before you deemed it too dangerous to drive. You pulled into a quiet side street and sobbed. You had really fucked up. You had really, truly, absolutely fucked up. And you weren't talking about the paperwork. That terrified you, of course. You had never even spoken to the Police, and now you had an open case file against you with the State Department. But what hurt the most was how appallingly and horrifically you had fucked up your friendships. The older girls had taken you under their wings without being asked. And how did you repay them? By behaving like a little brat who wanted to sit at the big girl's table.

The next day, Juan and Carlos turned up on your doorstep, armed with a mountain of paperwork and a tough expression. It had taken you 4 hours to complete all the documents you needed. Your court date came through the post a few weeks later. It was set for a month's time. You had hardly left your house. Initially, you wallowed in self-deprecation and began to hate yourself for how you treated the people in your team. The women that had helped you settle into Spain without being asked. The women who let you sleep in their spare rooms and crash on their couches. The women who filled out essential documents for you without you even realising it. And you had never even thanked them. Instead, you had hated them, resented them for the suffocating feeling you thought they had created. Maybe it was you? Perhaps you were so insistent on doing 'normal' things that you made your own asphyxiating environment around them?

After a week of feeling sorry for … everything, you decided enough was enough. You dragged yourself out of bed and into the shower. You forced yourself to make food and do an at-home workout. After moving your body a little bit, you sat down and began to concoct a plan. Alexia told you you had to apologise to everyone under the FC Barcelona banner. So that's where you would start. You wrote a list with each department on it. You couldn't find individual names, but you knew roughly how big the department was. You wanted to do something that was genuinely hard as an apology.

Buying flowers with a printed note was easy. So, you decided baking was the best option. You could bake reasonably well, and who doesn't love sweet treats. You decided it was better to be safe than sorry, so you made as many cakes, muffins, doughnuts, churros, brownies, and cookies as possible. The works. You couldn't go near the training centre, so you couriered them each day, handing over your mountain of confectionary with a label attached to which department it should go. Inside was a handwritten note apologising profusely for the difficulties you had caused them, promising that you would come to speak to them in person as soon as you were able to. The team was slightly easier to individualise things; you knew their favourites, so you spent a few days baking up a storm for them. You knew they were under strict instructions not to contact you – you wondered what punishment would await them if they tried – but you couldn't deny the total radio silence hurt a little. Could they really cut you out of their life so quickly? But this was your own making, you kept reminding yourself. This was on you. You had to fix this.

Eventually, your time in court came as you handed over the documents. The judge was strict and disapproving, but you could tell the man behind the gavel was nice enough. Your official confirmation documents came two days later, with instructions on who to give them to and when your next form deadlines were. You took out your phone, recorded the dates in your calendar, and wrote them on a piece of paper to pin to your fridge.

All that was left for you to do now was go to training.

Go to training and face the team.

Go to training and face the older girls you had been so rude to.

Go to training and face your captains.

Go to training and face Alexia again.

You set your alarm for 6 am the following day. You completed your usual daily routine – showering, brushing your teeth, getting your protein shake and breakfast, getting changed, getting in the car, and driving to the grounds. You had hoped it would calm you, but as the building got nearer and nearer, your nerves began to skyrocket. Taking steadying breaths, you made your way to the changing rooms. The building was eerie, being this quiet. Typically, the hallways were filled with loud chatter, and the changing rooms were filled with laughter. You made your way onto the pitches at 6.45. You were early, hoping it showed Alexia that you were trying to fix things. You initially decided to stand and wait for her, but then you remembered that she had told you you would be running until she decided you would stop. So, you start doing your stretching and activation. You didn't know this, but the Captains watched you from the conference room. It had floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked the training facility. After your stretches, your phone buzzed. Alexia had texted.

Ale <3: 30 laps.

Cariño: Hi. Yes, no problem. Will you be coming outside?

Ale <3: No, but I will know if you cheat.

30 laps was a lot. But you didn't want to cheat; this was your punishment for all the stress you had caused, so you would do it, and you would do it honestly—even if it killed you. You had asked because you wanted to see Alexia. You tried to apologise to her first, but that wasn't an option at the moment.

Ale <3: It's 7. Start running.

You filled with your watch as you took off on a gentle jog.

"30? Are you trying to kill her?" Irene asked as she watched you complete your 20th lap. You had only been running for about 35 minutes, but she was mildly concerned. This was the first time you'd done any significant form of movement in a while.

"She won't be needed in matches for a while. She'll be fine." Alexia wasn't about to let you off the hook.

"I know she won't be at matches for a while, but come on, Ale. She's got to do a full day's training after this. And laps afterwards." Marta pointed out. They had all been disappointed and hurt by your actions, but she thought Alexia might be taking it too far.

"She's fine. And who said she won't be at matches?" Alexia smiled, slightly evilly, Patri thought.

"You did?" Paños looked at her, confused.

"No, I said she won't be playing in matches. She will still attend them." They all shared mildly worried looks but let Alexia have her way.

When you eventually finished, you walked around with your hands on your head, taking deep breaths and trying to slow your heart rate down. 

Ale <3: You can go. Be at breakfast at 8.30.

Your heart sank a little as you felt the iciness behind her texts, but this was your own doing. You had to deal with the consequences—like an adult. You headed to the showers to get dressed for the next training session, your shoulders slightly drooping. Alexia couldn't deny that it pulled on her heartstrings a little, but you must be taught a lesson about accountability.

When you arrived out of the showers, the changing room was busy. Everyone stopped talking as you walked to your cubby. You decided to utilise everyone staring at you to your advantage.

"I would like to take this time to apologise to you as a team. I will be coming and doing it individually as well, but I wanted to do this as a team. I am so, deeply, truly sorry for the way I have been acting in these last few months. I was angry and frustrated, but instead of talking calmly like an adult, I raised my voice and lashed out. I am so sorry. I am also sorry for causing a rift in the team – that was never my intention. I am also sorry for the issues I have caused by not completing simple forms. I apologise." You nodded and turned around, hoping the eyes wouldn't keep looking at you. Ona first broke the silence, nudging you slightly and smirking as you met her eyes.

The training was brutal, and Jonatan was not taking it easy on you (and you were reasonably sure it had a little bit to do with Alexia). You used the time you were allowed to talk to apologise to everyone personally. Most people shook you off, but the older girls listened to you and told them how much you hurt them. They accepted it nonetheless – they could see you were trying to make amends. You got through training without complaints, like an adult. You helped collect the equipment before stopping in front of your 4 captains.

"H – How many laps?" You asked, not quite looking any of them in the eyes.

"5," Alexia commented. You nodded and set off running again.

"Ale, aren't you being a little harsh? You're making her run about 6km today on top of training." Marta looked at you. You looked a little weak, running slower than this morning. But you had the determined glint in your eye that told her only Alexia could make you stop.

"She needs to learn her lesson." She shrugged and moved away.

It continued for about three weeks before Jonatan put his foot down. He was starting to get more than a little concerned by your and Alexia's behaviour. You had made up with the rest of the team entirely. The older girls, bar Alexia, asked you about your evenings, and you asked about theirs—just like any group of adults would do.

"Alexia. You need to stop this. She has proved herself. She has said sorry to every person in this building. You need to stop punishing her. I want her back on the team sheets for matches, and I can't do that with you slowly killing her." Jonatan had called her into his office after training. He hadn't initially questioned her behaviour; he had supported it at the beginning. But he could see that the constant rejection from her was getting to you. You were still young, after all.

"She hasn't," Alexia said, watching as he furrowed his brow in confusion. "She hasn't apologised to me."

"Maybe that's because you keep looking at her like you're going to kill her. I see her come up to you, clearly trying to apologise, and then you stare at her, not unlike how you're staring at me now." She quickly fixed her face. "You're terrifying the poor girl."

Her talk with Jonatan made Alexia question her methods a little bit. Yes, she made you run an additional 35 laps daily, but you had to learn your lesson, right? This was the only way to make you see how you were behaving. She was sure of it. In actuality, she was hurt. Your actions had really hurt her. Disregarding you shouting at her in front of everyone, you hadn't wanted her. And that really stung. She may have wanted you to also feel that pain … just a little bit.

As Alexia walked up to your door, she was slightly … nervous? No, that couldn't be right. She was Alexia Putellas, she didn't get nervous. But she was. It was the same feeling she got as a teenager when she knew she had run late at training, missing her curfew, and knowing that her mother was waiting for her behind the door. She decided she was more apprehensive than nervous. Alexia did not get nervous. As she raised her hand to knock, the door disappeared.

"I really don't know what to do," you jumped slightly as you registered that someone was standing before you. "Oh, hi," you said uncertainly. "Ona, I've got to go … Ale, um, Alexia's here … bye." You hung up the phone, putting your coat back behind the door. "Would you like to come in?" You offered meekly.

"Por favor. If that's ok." You smiled hesitantly and stepped back.

"Would you like a drink? I've got water, juice, tea, coffee … wine?" You sounded so unsure of yourself. Had she caused this?

"A tea would be lovely." You both settled yourself with the standard social conventions.

"I wanted to talk to you, actually," you said as you gestured to the table. "I wanted to apologise to you. I shouldn't have spoken to you like that. I was rude. I should have been adult enough to discuss my feelings properly," you stared hard at the table, fidgeting with the mug in your hands. As Alexia opened her mouth again, you continued, pushing through before she could comment. "I would also like to apologise for what happened with the documents. I was so stupid not to fill out those forms. I made something that would have taken an afternoon at most into a massive thing. I'm sorry if I caused any embarrassment to you, as a person or as Capitana." You thought you embarrassed her? Yes, what you did was irresponsible, but you were living alone for the first time in a new country. Alexia should have made you do the forms earlier when you still lived with her, not doing them herself without your knowledge.

"Gracias, cariño." You looked up, shocked at the term of endearment. She hadn't called you that in a long time. "I would also like to apologise."

"You have nothing to-" you interjected.

"Sí, cariño, I do. I was so harsh on you. Harsher than what was warranted. I'm sorry. I'm not embarrassed; I never was. I was hurt. You said you didn't need or want me anymore. That hurt me," she explained.

"Ale … Alexia, I'll always want you around. I didn't want to go cold turkey on you. I just wanted you to treat me like you treat Cláudia, or Jana, or Ona. But I never wanted you to not be in my life." She smiled softly at your response. Although, she didn't like that you hesitated to call her Ale.

"Look at us, cariño, talking like the adults we both are." She joked as she sipped on her tea.

"Like the adults we both are, Ale." You smiled back.

So that was part 2. I hope you liked it. I don't think I'll make any more parts, but we shall see.

#barca femeni #barca femeni x reader #fc barcelona #woso blurbs #woso community #woso imagine #woso x reader #alexia putellas #alexia putellas x reader #woso fanfics #woso fluff #woso oneshot #woso #womens football

[ginnsbaker]

fic: if i bleed (you'll be the last to know) (10/?)

Part Summary: “Leigh, are you jealous?” you ask, taking a deliberate step towards her. You hold her captive with your eyes, making it impossible for Leigh to look away.

“I’m with Danny.” Her voice cracks as she takes a step back.

“That’s not an answer,” you whisper softly, closing the distance between you again.

Pairing: Leigh Shaw x Fem!Reader | Word count for this part: 6.200+ | Warnings: UST, fluff, very light angst | Author's note: I think the summary should tell you what to expect *winks*.

Masterlist | Part I Part II | Part III | Part IV | Part V | Part VI | Part VII | Part VIII | Part IX

-

Despite going to bed very late, getting up in the morning isn't hard for you. Though it’s mainly because you barely had any rest at all. The real reason you couldn't sleep wasn’t the couch’s fault—it was the soft, irregular snores drifting in from the bedroom and the new, quiet awareness of someone else in your apartment. Every so often, Leigh would make a sound or shift in her sleep, and you would clench your fist hard against the blanket, resisting the urge to go check on her. 

The stillness of the early dawn settles around you, and Leigh’s words come back to you like a quiet sail. “Do you know how intimate it is to sleep at someone’s house and not have sex?” she had said once, during one of your long, winding confrontations about Matt. It was a statement that had deeply affected you then, and even more so now, with her just a room away. You remember recoiling when she nearly spat the words at you. You wonder if Leigh also remembers, especially considering last night.

You rise from the couch before your alarm has a chance to ring, padding softly into the kitchen. 

Cooking breakfast has become a kind of ritual, an act of service between the two of you. Smiling at this thought, you crack eggs into a bowl, add milk and vanilla, and start whisking. You soak slices of bread in the mixture, heat up the pan, and place them down to cook. French toast is on the menu today, and you hope Leigh likes it.

You set the table quietly, arranging the plates and cutlery, pouring orange juice into glasses. As you lay down the last slice of French toast on the plates, you add a light dusting of powdered sugar and a few slices of fresh strawberries for a pop of color and sweetness. With everything prepared, you sit down at the dining table to wait for Leigh to wake up.

After a while you glance at the clock and see it's 6:30 AM. You need to be at the clinic in an hour. With a sigh, you cover Leigh's plate with a napkin to keep it warm and start eating alone, just as you've done since moving here.

Finishing your breakfast, you wash the dishes and put everything away, your movements mechanical. You know you should get in the shower soon, but everything you'll need to prepare is in the bedroom. Pushing the door open just a crack, you peek inside to see Leigh sleeping peacefully, her face so different from its usual, more troubled visage when awake. She’s lying on her back with her mouth slightly open. The sheets have slipped past her hips, and her shirt has ridden up, exposing her stomach to the cool air. You tiptoe into the room and carefully pull the covers back up over her, tucking them around her gently.

Afterward, you crouch by the bed for a minute, simply observing her steady breathing. You feel a surge of affection as you watch her, wondering if she feels safe here, with you. Her face, relaxed and unguarded, is the very same one that Matt woke up to every day of his life for the past decade until he left this world. You think to yourself what a privilege it was for him, to have shared so many mornings with her, to have been woven into her waking thoughts and dreams.

While you’re cautiously sweeping a few strands of hair from her face, Leigh’s lips suddenly move in her sleep. They part slightly as if she's talking, but no sound escapes. Her forehead creases into a frown—she's clearly dreaming. It's a serious, focused expression that makes her look like she’s deep in conversation with someone in her dream world, and you cover your mouth to stifle a giggle at the sight.

Realizing you've lingered longer than intended, you force yourself to stand. You quietly retrieve a towel and some clothes, deciding to take your shower in the living room bathroom. As you lather soap over your torso, the image of Leigh’s exposed skin haunts your thoughts—the small, soft patch of her stomach you saw earlier. Your fingers inadvertently brush over your own nipples, and you can't help but compare the sensation to what touching Leigh's skin might feel like, if the rest of her body feels just as smooth and supple as it looks. The thought sends a shiver through you, goosebumps forming despite the warm water. Your fingers wander lower almost of their own accord. A gasp escapes your lips when the tip of your forefinger brushes against your clit, the touch sparking an unexpected surge of arousal. Shocked by your own reaction, you quickly turn the shower knob, the water temperature dropping to a chill that snaps you out of your fantasies.

Get a grip, you mutter to yourself, feeling a combination of embarrassment and frustration. Leigh is just in the next room, trusting you, and here you are getting carried away. Shivering a bit under the cold spray, you finish up quickly, wrap yourself in a towel, and get dressed. 

You take one last look at Leigh before you leave. She’s still sprawled out in the same comfy position, deep in sleep. Waking her doesn't feel right—not just to say a quick goodbye before you rush off to work. Instead, you jot down a note on a piece of your prescription pad. It’s a quick message letting her know breakfast is ready on the table, she should feel at home, and you’ve left an extra set of keys for her. You apologize for the early exit and sign your name with a flourish. You tuck the note under her plate of French toast, placing the keys beside it. Then, remembering the night might have left her with a bit of a hangover, you put a glass of water and an aspirin by her bed. You're trying to think of everything she might need to start her day off right.

“Bye, Leigh,” you whisper as you give the room one final glance. You step out into the morning, locking up but leaving a part of your mind behind, picturing her waking up comfortable and cared for. It’s ironic that just when you decided to keep your distance, you start running into situations that make you fall even harder for her. It's as if fate is constantly nudging you in her direction.

And frankly, you don't mind it at all.

-

Leigh stirs slightly, her eyes fluttering open to a room that isn't hers. For a brief, groggy moment, she thinks she’s in Danny’s bed, but the scent is all wrong. Where Danny’s sheets carried a distinct note of sandalwood, they smell of lavender and something more… feminine. The soft difference in fragrance tugs at the edges of her memory, pulling forward the events of the previous day.

She blinks slowly, her mind piecing together the snapshots: the sharp words exchanged with Danny that morning, the solo trip out on Halloween, finding herself unexpectedly in Matt’s favorite restaurant. That’s when you came into the picture, dressed up for a date that never showed, and Leigh stepped in. You both shared a beer on the hood of your car, surrounded by glimmering, dreamlike sights, but all she could focus on was how the streetlights played over your face, making you look almost magical as you laughed, a half-empty box of donuts on your lap. You looked so... pretty, she thinks, the image stubbornly etched in her mind.

The night didn’t end there. She took you to a party. It was loud, crowded, but when you danced, the world seemed to shrink down to just the two of you. She remembers drawing you to the dance floor, guiding your hands to her hips as she swayed. She recalls gazing at your lips, wondering how they would feel against hers.

Leigh buries her face into your pillow, her cheeks burning as she reminisces how close you were, your lips barely an inch apart. She tries to laugh it off, but it’s hollow, and her face grows hotter as she recalls you pulling away, the almost-kiss dissolving into nothing. The last-second rejection stings, but what really makes her squirm is the heat flooding her body just from thinking about it. In an attempt to distract herself, Leigh snuggles deeper into your bed, but it backfires. One deep breath and she’s engulfed by the scent you left on the pillow. It feels as if you’re right there beside her, the illusion so convincing that it briefly soothes the ache of your actual absence. 

And it's in this moment, surrounded by traces of you, that Leigh finally allows herself to fully acknowledge the attraction she’s been trying to ignore. It's been a slow, maddening realization, an interest that has compounded until it could no longer be overlooked. It’s ridiculous, really, because it sort of feels like she’s proving Matt right, wanting you just like he did. She sits up, clutching the sheets close, her heart racing as she turns over everything in her mind. It feels contradictory yet somehow... inexorable, as if it were always meant to happen.

But Leigh pushes back against the idea that anything in her life is fated, especially when it comes to who she might fall for. She's always believed in steering her own ship, picking her paths, her battles, her loves. Not just going with the flow of something because it feels like the universe is pushing her that way. She wraps the sheets tighter around her, needing to feel safeguarded, needing to remind herself that she calls the shots. 

She climbs out of bed and starts pacing restlessly like a mad woman. Yes, there's something about you that pulls at her, but that doesn’t mean she has to lose herself to it. For all she knows, it’s just a silly crush, perhaps amplified by the thought that you might have liked her first. It's probably just that—reciprocal attraction—nothing more.

A sudden noise from the living room jerks Leigh out of her tumultuous thoughts, and she frantically whips her head towards the door. It’s been so loud inside her head, that she hasn’t even considered the possibility that you might be out there—in your own apartment. Leigh stops pacing and strains to hear more. 

There’s another sound. Thud. Thud.

With a shaky breath, she calls out, “Y/N?” 

When no answer comes, Leigh edges out of the bedroom tentatively, as if stepping into her own trial. Her nerves are strung tight with anticipation of confronting you, the newly-minted object of her affection. However, as she rounds the corner, she finds only an empty living room. The quiet is almost startling. Another thud makes her jump—a dull, persistent noise. Turning towards it, she sees only pigeons at the living room window, poking their beaks against the glass, and Leigh exhales a long sigh of relief.

Intrigued, Leigh approaches the window to observe the pigeons. They remain undisturbed as she draws closer, diligently pecking at seeds scattered on the windowsill. So, you’ve been feeding them. It’s a small, charming detail about you that she hadn’t known, and it warms her heart to see this caring, tender side of you. Much like the way you took care of her last night, she feels like one of those pigeons.

Leigh leans against the wall next to the window, watching the pigeons bob their heads and shuffle around. Her eyes then drift to the dining table and land on a plate, invitingly covered, with a piece of paper peeking out beneath it. She walks over and lifts the cover to reveal a hearty serving of French toast, artfully arranged and topped with a sprinkle of powdered sugar and fresh strawberries.

The sight of the breakfast makes her mouth water, and without thinking, she reaches out with her hands and takes a bite. It's still slightly warm, a sign that you haven't been gone long. Comforted by this thought, she pulls out a dining chair and settles in, making herself comfortable. Then, picking up the note, she unfolds it to read while she enjoys her breakfast.

Hope you enjoy the French toast. I had to head out early, but I wanted to make sure you had a warm start to your day. Please make yourself at home, help yourself to anything you need, and here’s some extra keys to the apartment just in case. Sorry to miss saying goodbye this morning. I hope we can catch up later when I'm back - Y/N

Leigh bites her lip, staring down at the note and the keys beside it. It feels so... domestic. Almost too familiar, but too quickly. She can't help but recall the countless times she left similar notes for Matt, scribbled in haste before dashing off to her early morning classes at the Beautiful Beast. Her trips to Danny's apartment never felt quite like this. It had always felt more like a love nest, designed for pleasure, not partnership. It was somewhere to escape to, not a space she could ever see herself belonging in, being her own. But here, with these keys in front of her, it's different. This feels like stepping back into an old pair of shoes that doesn't quite fit the same way anymore.

Leigh hesitates, unsure if this is a good thing. If you are a good thing. With Danny, everything was safe, predictable. He wants her more than she wants him, and in a twisted way, that imbalance has become an assurance. It’s easier, requiring less vulnerability on her part. But with you, the balance feels equal, perhaps even tipping in a way that makes Leigh unsure of where she stands, unsure of her control over the situation.

That terrifies her. And she hasn't felt this scared since Matt left.

As if on cue, a loud ringing blares through the apartment. Leigh blinks, pulled abruptly back to the present, and realizes she has no idea where she left her phone. She scrambles to her feet, her search for the phone turning into a clumsy dance as she trips over herself in the process. After a brief, frantic search that feels longer than it probably is, she traces her steps back to your bedroom. There, beside the bed where she'd woken up, her phone is vibrating against the hardwood floor. The screen lights up with the name “Jules”. Leigh swipes to answer, holding the phone a bit shakily to her ear.

“Danny’s here.”

Shit, shit shit.

“Just get rid of him, Jules. I'll call him later,” Leigh says. 

There's a brief pause on the other end of the line, and then—

“Where are you, anyway?” Jules asks.

Leigh glances around, fiddling with the phone in her hand before answering, “I’m at a friend’s place.”

“Oh,” Jules lets out a low whistle. “Anyone I know?”

Leigh takes a deep breath. “Y/N.”

Jules falls silent, her breath the only sound coming through the phone. Leigh can almost visualize her sister on the other end, puzzling over why Leigh spent the night at your apartment and wondering if something happened between you two. She anticipates the barrage of questions that will greet her when she gets home.

“Leigh, I—” Jules starts to say.

“Don't. I'm leaving soon. Please make sure Danny's not there when I arrive. Please,” Leigh says. 

“Okay,” Jules says simply, and then the line goes dead.

Leigh leaves the keys where you left them and takes your note with her.

-

As the day wears on, your phone remains dishearteningly quiet. You keep checking, hoping for a simple message from Leigh—a thank you for the bed, a comment on the breakfast, or just a note to say she’s left your apartment. But nothing comes through. Each passing hour stretches your patience thinner and makes you question every detail of last night. 

Her lack of reaction leaves you with too much time to think. After the debacle with Sara and the no-show date you met from a dating app, you had felt a surge of disillusionment. So much so that last night, after Leigh left your car and walked into the party, you found yourself uninstalling the dating app from your phone in a moment of clarity. You decide it's time to focus on what feels more real, on what your heart has been screaming all along.

Leigh. 

You want Leigh, and you’re going to go after her. Forget about Danny. You won't let Leigh spend another Halloween alone, or Christmas, or New Year’s. You're resolved to be there for all the important dates—and, if you're lucky, every day in between.

Hey Leigh, just checking in to see how you’re doing. Hope your day was good, you type and hit send. You won’t wait anymore for her to reach out when you can just let her know you’ve been thinking of her. You toss your phone down and rub your hands on your face. Now it’s just a matter of waiting to see if she feels the same.

-

Leigh postpones meeting with Danny until later that evening, having spent the day lounging in bed and replaying the songs you had on in your car the previous night. She received your text, but she hasn’t even opened it yet. It's silly, but she feels that if she starts talking to you, a dam will burst—and she's not ready for that. Instead, she reaches out to Danny, asking him over so they can talk.

When Danny arrives, she doesn't invite him inside. Since Jules and her mom are home, they walk to the front steps and sit side by side, maintaining a slight distance between them.

It’s Danny who breaks the silence first. “Leigh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to push you so hard. Look, I just think it's a great opportunity for us—or for me, at least. And since you’re not tied down to the Beautiful Beast anymore, and your writing and part-time job are flexible, I thought... Why not?”

Leigh's expression hardens at the mention of her old job, at Danny's reasoning, and his diligent insistence. She didn’t call him over to rehash the fight they just had yesterday.

“Just because I can work from anywhere doesn't mean I want to leave,” she says. “And if we're going to have the same argument again, then you should just go.”

When Danny told Leigh he had landed a job as a retail associate at a high-end hotel in Vegas, he expected she’d be happy for him. She was, but when he suggested they move there for a fresh start, her response was an unflinching no, leaving him feeling wounded.

“But what's really keeping you here, Leigh? I mean, besides your family. Is there something else?” he asks.

At the question, Leigh feels the past and present colliding. First, she sees Matt's face, always Matt's face—his smile, the comfort of his presence that used to fill her days. Then her mind flickers to the times she found herself passing your clinic after long, aimless drives meant to clear her head. Your face starts to overlap with her memories of Matt, not replacing but somehow intertwining. 

“Matt,” Leigh forces herself to say, forces herself to believe. “If I leave this place, it's like... it's like I'm leaving him for good. I know it sounds crazy, but that’s how it feels.”

“Matt's been gone for a long time. You think he'd want you to just stop living your life? Waiting for what? For a ghost?” Danny argues, his voice rising just a little. He looks away, down the shadowy street. His hands ball into fists and then relax. Under the weak glow of the streetlamp, it’s as if Matt’s shadow stretches beside him, a long, imposing figure that Danny can never seem to escape.

“Leigh, I’m just trying to help us move forward, that’s all,” he continues, softer, more defeated. Leigh catches the tightness of his expression, the effort it takes him to stay calm. She reaches out, her fingertips lightly touching his knuckles. Danny grabs this small sign of affection, quickly cradling Leigh’s face in his hands and drawing her into a fervent kiss. Leigh doesn’t respond immediately, but then she melts into its familiarity, allowing her lips to be pliable to his. 

Danny breaks the kiss, his breath ragged as he searches Leigh's eyes. “Maybe it wouldn't be so bad to leave Matt for good,” he whispers.

She shakes her head, her voice trembling. “I-I don't know, Danny—”

“Leigh, I love you.”

It's the first time either of them has said it. Leigh had imagined fireworks or something clicking into place when it happened. She expected the grand declaration to sweep her off her feet, but instead, she finds herself still teetering on the brink, not quite ready to leap. But what she cannot ignore is the sincerity in his words. Danny has loved her through her worst—in his own way. It's not easy to dismiss or reject such devotion.

“You don’t have to say it back,” Danny says quickly. He's afraid of hearing her say no again. Silence would be better; he could let himself believe that maybe she felt the same way. Silence could mean ‘yes’, right? he thinks, grasping at straws.

“Leigh, I’m taking that job, and I’m leaving after Thanksgiving. That gives us about a month,” he says, cradling her face now with both hands pleadingly. “Please, just think about it. Think about coming with me.”

Despite her reservations, Leigh ends up saying, “Okay, I'll think about it.”

Danny’s face breaks into a smile. He kisses her again, a soft, reaffirming kiss that seems to thank her for even considering his request.

The next second, Jules interrupts the moment, opening the door unceremoniously. Leigh throws her a sharp look, which her sister disregards with a shrug. 

“Logan's been barking at the door for some time now, in case you didn't hear,” Jules drawls, cradling a bowl of cereal—her dinner.

At her words, Logan bursts through the opening and makes a beeline for Leigh. He leaps straight into Leigh's lap, settling in with a decisive huff, his eyes darting possessively from Leigh to Danny. It's as if he's laying claim to her, telling Danny without words that Leigh has roots here too deep to simply pull up, saying, she’s mine, you’re not going to take her away from me. 

Leigh pulls Logan closer, thinking about how much you’ll miss him if she decides to go with Danny.

-

You get home from work just after nine, tossing your keys on the kitchen counter with a weary sigh. A quick check of your phone confirms what you'd been dreading all day: Leigh still hasn't read your message from the afternoon. That sinking feeling of disappointment hits you again—harder this time. It’s like a pattern with her: warm and engaging one day, distant and cold the next. You can't deny that this inconsistency is starting to wear on you. It's bordering on cruel.

What are you doing wrong? Why can’t you figure out what makes her switch off like this? 

And then, unable to help it, you send another text.

[9:10 PM] You: Is everything okay?

Dinner is a microwave affair tonight, not that you're really tasting any of it. You sit down to eat, your phone still within sight. That message never gets read either.

-

Leigh has always been unpredictable, but she has never actively avoided you like this before. She knows what she's doing, leaving your messages unread for the past three days. Just when you declare to the universe that you'd pursue her, she shuts you out completely. You can't even feel sorry for yourself; somehow, you brought this on, right?

When the day rolls around for Logan's next vaccine appointment, you catch yourself nervously checking the time more often than usual. But when the appointment time comes, a different Shaw brings him in. Jules holds onto Logan's leash as he excitedly sniffs every corner of the waiting room, his tail wagging a mile a minute. 

“Hey,” Jules greets you, a bit out of breath from handling Logan's forceful tugs. “Leigh had some things to take care of, so I'm on Logan duty today.”

“Of course, no problem at all. How’s he been?” You try to keep your tone light as you kneel down to give Logan some attention, scratching behind his ears the way you know he likes.

“He’s been great, a real bundle of energy,” Jules replies, watching you with Logan. She hesitates before adding, “And Leigh’s been... well, you know Leigh.”

Actually, you think, you don't know Leigh—not as well as you thought. “Yeah,” you respond, looking up at Jules with a forced smile. “I know.”

After you administer the vaccine, the appointment passes with small talk, mostly about Logan’s antics and not much else. Jules is friendly but doesn’t venture into whatever might be happening with Leigh.

Just as you’re seeing Jules off, the clinic door swings open again. And you’re completely unprepared for the person who steps in.

“Hi,” Sara smiles at you, and then lifts the kitten in her hands. “Think you can help me with her, doctor?”

In a moment of unpreparedness, you cough awkwardly to cover your reaction, a flush creeping up your cheeks. “Hi, Sara,” you say, a bit flustered as you usher her inside. “What do we have here?”

“It's a rescue. Found her all alone by the roadside,” Sara explains, handing the tiny kitten to you with a concerned frown.

Jules catches the interaction, her eyes narrowing slightly—not missing how your entire demeanor changes around Sara—who is undeniably beautiful. 

“Right this way,” you tell the blonde, leading her to the examination table. “Let's see what we can do for her.”

As soon as you and Sara are out of earshot, Suzie muses aloud, “They'd make a lovely pair, don't you think? If only Y/N wasn't so hung up on a widow…”

Jules stiffens slightly, her voice cool as she says, “And you are?”

“Suzie,” Suzie responds cheerfully, extending a hand to Jules with a bright smile. “Y/N’s assistant and friend. Nice to meet you.”

Jules shakes her hand, her smile polite but reserved. “Jules,” she responds tersely, omitting her connection as Leigh's sister. “So, what about Sara and Y/N?”

Well, Suzie can’t resist a juicy bit of gossip now, can she?

-

You don't usually pour yourself a glass of wine on a weeknight, but after today, you've cracked open a bottle that's been gathering dust for a year. Sara’s surprise visit at the clinic left you rattled. She had called you out for being distant after the two of you ran into Leigh one morning, and it embarrassed you how right she was. You hadn't been upfront about your emotional availability—or lack thereof—because of your feelings for Leigh.

When you finally admitted to Sara that you were in love with someone else, you braced for a fallout. But instead, Sara laughed, a light, carefree sound that took you by surprise. “I don't mind if you're emotionally unavailable,” she had said with a shrug. “I'm just looking for something casual.”

For a split second, her proposition—friends with benefits—was like candy being dangled in front of you: appetizing and readily available. But that conversation was at work, in the middle of your clinic, and the timing felt all sorts of wrong. 

You let the moment pass without responding, and Sara backtracked a little with a noncommittal, “Well, you have my number. I really like you, Y/N. We can be friends, and if you ever need to…unwind, well, I can be your best friend.”

You're midway through your glass of wine when you decide to check your phone again, automatically opening the chat window with Leigh. It's almost become a habit, expecting your messages to remain unread. But this time, Leigh's avatar is right there under the last text you sent. She's read them. Today. 

Why now?

Before you can dedicate the rest of your evening into that question, a knock on your door pulls you from your thoughts. It's late, and you don’t remember ordering food delivery. You set your glass down and head over to see who it is. 

Upon opening the door, you're greeted by a downcast brunette. She looks nervous, clutching her purse as if it were a lifeline.

“Leigh?”

“Hi,” she says, lifting her eyes to meet yours, searching your face for a reaction. As confused as you are, your heart kicks up a notch simply because she’s there, so close you could reach out and touch her. For a moment, you wonder if you're dreaming, if the alcohol is taking effect and conjuring up your desires right before you.

You notice the slight tremor in her hands, the way she’s standing—a bit too rigid, like she’s bracing for something tough.

Clearing your throat, you start to ask, “Would you like to come—”

“Is she here?” Leigh interrupts abruptly.

You blink in surprise.

“Who?”

“Sara,” Leigh replies, her chin jutting forward. She attempts to peer past you, as if she might find the answer somewhere inside your apartment. 

“No, she's not,” you say slowly, puzzled and a bit annoyed by her tone. “Why would she be?” 

You can't hide your surprise at her directness, or the discomfort it stirs in you. It's a bit ridiculous, even rude, how Leigh has been avoiding you, leaving your messages unread, and now she's here, asking you about another girl without a preamble. Leigh doesn't wait for an invitation; she brushes past you and steps further into your apartment, her eyes searching every corner of the room.

“I thought you said it didn't work out with Sara,” she says, almost accusingly, turning to face you again. The way she's acting—like she has any right to demand answers about your personal life after days of silence—is starting to grate on your nerves. 

You press your lips together, taking a deep breath to quell your rising irritation.

“It didn’t. She brought a kitten to the clinic today, that’s all. We're not seeing each other, Leigh,” you tell her. Although she did tell me she’s interested in sleeping with me, you nearly say aloud.

Leigh’s mouth twists into a sneer. “Then why did Jules…” she trails off, her expression falling as it finally clicks.

Jules lied to her.

“Jules…?” you echo incredulously. “What did she tell you?”

Leigh's confidence wavers even further as she says, “She... she said she met Sara at your clinic. Called her your girlfriend.”

You shake your head, exasperation seeping through your features. “Sara is not my girlfriend,” you repeat firmly. The situation is quickly becoming absurd, and you decide to push a bit, to get to the heart of what's really bothering her. “But what does it matter to you if she was?”

“It doesn’t,” Leigh replies in a flat, unconvincing tone.

“Then what are you doing here?” you ask gently, as if addressing a child mid-tantrum. 

Leigh doesn't answer right away, her cheeks glowing red as she looks anywhere but you. She's clearly embarrassed by the entire ordeal, and you find yourself struggling not to smile at the implications of her visit. She's bothered by the idea of you with Sara because—

“Leigh, are you jealous?” you ask, taking a deliberate step towards her. You hold her captive with your eyes, making it impossible for Leigh to look away.

“I’m with Danny.” Her voice cracks as she takes a step back.

“That’s not an answer,” you whisper softly, closing the distance between you once more.

“No, I... maybe. I don't know,” she stammers, then sighs deeply, her shoulders slumping as she finally meets your gaze. “Yes, I guess I am. I don't like thinking of you with someone else. Is that answer enough?”

As you take another step forward, Leigh instinctively moves back, and this dance continues until she finds herself against a wall. You're close now, close enough to feel the tension radiating from her. Her back is pressed against the concrete, your body just inches from hers, effectively trapping her in the corner. 

Leigh doesn’t know at which point she’s closed her eyes. Was it when she felt your breath whisper across her upper lip as you sighed, clearly as affected by the proximity as she was? Or was it when her back met the cool wall, the hard reality telling her she had nowhere else to go? Perhaps it was simply the anticipation, the tightening expectation of your lips meeting hers, the thought of surrendering to this—whatever this is becoming between you.

But then, two seconds pass. Five. Ten. Nothing happens.

The anticipated kiss doesn’t come. 

When she finally opens her eyes, the question in yours is unmistakable. You’re near enough, she could just lean in, but you’re giving her a choice, asking without words if this is what she wants. And that’s when she remembers how she ended up at your doorstep. Leigh's mind reels, darting back to Jules' little lie. She's struck by the realization that Jules probably felt compelled to lie because Leigh had been inadvertently pushing you away, leaving a door open for someone else to step in. And if she keeps this up, it might be Sara who ends up here, against your wall, in your arms. The image stabs at her heart, jealousy tightening her chest.

No, she can’t let that happen.

Summoning a courage she didn’t know she had left, Leigh reaches out and gently takes your hand. She brings it to her face, pressing her lips against your palm in a kiss so tender it steals your breath. It’s a silent plea. A tender claim.

It's just a small kiss, simple and soft, but it rushes through you like wildfire, stirring feelings deeper and more intense than any long, drawn-out foreplay ever did. You realize just how much you've been holding back, shielding yourself from potential pain. But now, as Leigh's kiss sears into your palm, all those defenses seem pointless. With a fervor driven by weeks of restrainment, you close the distance entirely. 

Your kiss lands on Leigh's lips with everything you have, as if this moment, this single kiss, might be your only chance. Yet, even in your urgency, there's a tenderness, a reverence in the way your lips carefully slot between hers. As you kiss, there's a meticulous attention to the details—the softness of her lips, the way they fit perfectly against yours, the gentle give when you press a little harder. It’s as if you’re trying to memorize her through this kiss.

Leigh matches your ardor, her fingers weaving into your hair, tugging you closer as if she can't get enough. You react instinctively, your hands sliding from her hips to her waist, lifting her shirt just enough to feel her skin beneath your fingertips. The slight pressure of your nails makes Leigh gasp, a sound that breaks the seal of your lips just enough for you to deepen the kiss, slipping your tongue past her defenses. The act draws a guttural moan from her—a sound that vibrates through your core, sending ripples of desire pulsating through your body. 

It shouldn’t be this perfect the first time, but it is.

The kiss grows wetter, more urgent. It's selfish, a relentless chase of sensation where both of you are simultaneously taking and giving everything you have, until it feels like there's nothing left to offer. While Leigh’s tongue explores every inch of your mouth, her hands find their way to either side of your neck, fingertips lightly grazing your skin, sending tingles straight down your spine. Your own hands aren't idle. They roam up her back, feeling the smooth expanse of her skin under your fingertips. As you slide your hands upward, you discover something that emits a low groan from you—she’s not wearing a bra. A part of you, the rational part that's still functioning, slowly begins to recognize the gravity of what’s unfolding. It's too easy to get lost in Leigh, in the rush and the heat, but something stops you. You want this—more than anything in the moment—but it has to mean something. Because once you cross this line with Leigh, there's no going back to the uninhibited, distant longing you've managed until now. 

Just as the thought crystallizes, Leigh breaks the kiss with a wet pop. Her eyes flutter open, slowly, lazily. Her gaze is unfocused at first, pupils dilated, the vibrant green of her irises almost swallowed by the black. Oh, she definitely wants you too.

“Why did you stop?” you murmur, your voice unmistakably laden with desire as you rest your forehead against hers.

A grin tugs at Leigh’s lips as replies softly, “I just wanted to see you.”

Your smile widens as her fingers absentmindedly play with the little hairs at the nape of your neck. She seems mesmerized by your eyes, now darkened with lust, and without thinking, she blurts out, “You really do have espresso eyes.”

Her words make you freeze in her arms. That nickname—it's the same one you use anonymously for your submissions to your favorite advice column. Maybe it's just a coincidence, right? 

But Leigh's reaction a moment later suggests otherwise. Her face blanches, eyes widening in a sudden flare of panic as she realizes what she's just said. 

“Y/N—” Leigh starts but you cut her off by stepping out of her embrace, your stance becoming guarded.

The warmth vanishes from your eyes. “What did you just say?”

#unbetad #my writing #my fic #elizabeth olsen x reader #elizabeth olsen #leigh shaw x reader #leigh shaw x female reader #leigh shaw #sorry for your loss au #leigh shaw x you #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you #sorry i had to tag wanda x reader for visibility

[ellatoone7]

❄︎ Rare mornings ❄︎

Alexia's favourite girls series

You and Alexia wake up before the kids

It was a rarity to be woken up by the sun and not three tiny bodies that normally acted as Alexia’s alarm clock. The former athlete checked her phone wondering had she just woken up extremely early, but she hadn’t. It was nine o’clock and somehow not even one of her girls had woken up. 

You had stirred slightly next to her, burying yourself further you’re your neck as her warm hand gently strokes your swollen stomach. You were about six months at this stage, and it had been the easiest so far. You and Alexia had been through all these stages three times already, in Alexia’s words you were professionals. 

You winced as you tried to get comfortable, but you already knew it was going to be one of those days where the feeling probably wouldn’t subside. Your eyes cracked open, and you were welcome with the sight of your very smiley wife. “Buenos días hermosa.” Her voice deep and raspy as it always was when she just woke up. You bask in the blonde’s attention before having the same realisation as your wife, “Did you kill the girls?” Alexia shrugs playfully, “They were just too loud.” You giggle at her comment before wincing again. 

Alexia softly rubbed your stomach as she pulled you closer. Back when you were pregnant with Isabella, Alexia was an absolute mess. She panicked over every little thing that involved you and her daughter. This Alexia was very aware of everything that was happening without even asking, something you were eternally grateful for. “Vale mi amor. Standing up might do you some good and we can make the girls breakfast while we are ahead.” She offers softly as she slowly begins to get up not before she places a gentle kiss to your belly, a routine at this stage.

You gratefully took her hand as she helped you to sit up and then eventually stand. You rewarded her with a kiss that she happily reciprocated before quietly sneaking out of your room. Once Alexia has you safely downstairs, she runs back up to check on her daughters. Isabella’s room was closest as she peaks her head in, her room is decorated in posters of her favourite footballers. Alexia smiles softly as she finds her eldest dead to the world, with the softest of kisses to her temple she is out of the room without any disturbance.

Emilia was the heaviest sleeper out of all her siblings, Alexia often joking that she could sleep through a whole football game and not even stir. Alexia didn’t even bother creeping in knowing that Emilia wasn’t going to wake up from the noise. Emilia’s messy blonde hair was sprawled out against her pillow as she clutched on to her stuffy. Jana had gifted her the teddy when she born, and Emilia latched on to it much like Valentina and her rabbit. 

Mr biggy was named when Emilia was old enough to speak and it was decided by her and Mateo her best friend. Alexia repositioned Mr Biggy until he was tucked firmly under the blonde’s arm. Alexia pressed a kiss to her cheek before leaving to check on Val.

Contrary to her older sister Val was like Alexia and slept lightly. Alexia wasn’t surprised as the four-year-old sat up at the sound of her door being opened. “Mami?” Her little voice rasped out as Alexia stepped further into the room. Val raised her arms as her Mami came closer. Alexia sat at the edge of her bed as Val crawled into her awaiting arms. 

“Buenos días mi princesita.” Ale whispered as Val buried her face into her neck to hide from the light coming from the crack in her door. Alexia felt her mumble something against her neck as she gently pulled back. Val rubbed her eyes softly as she adjusted to being awake. Her little hands rested on Alexia’s shoulders as she looked up at her with her big hazel eyes, “M’tired.” Alexia giggled softly as a grumpy face took over her daughter. “Go back to sleep mi vida.” Val didn’t fight as her Mami guided her to lie back down.

Val’s eyes fluttered shut as she drowsily held on to her mother’s hand. Alexia tucked her in as she ducked down to press a kiss against her forehead. Satisfied that all her girls were safe she made her way downstairs, smiling as she heard you humming away. You were mixing the pancake batter as a large hand covered your own, with a kiss to your neck you knew she wanted to take over. You hauled yourself up on to the counter with surprisingly little struggle that even your wife looked impressed. 

“They’re still a sleep?” You asked as you noticed she didn’t have a little army behind her. “Sí, they had a late night.” Alexia reminded you as you stole a bit of the Nutella she pulled out. In hindsight you probably shouldn’t have let them stay up to watch one more episode, but they pulled out their puppy dog eyes, and you and Alexia were weak. “We need to be stricter.” You laugh as Alexia hums noncommittedly, “But mi amor, you know I’m weak when it comes to their puppy eyes.”

You rub her shoulder sympathetically as she moves to stand between your legs, “They got that from you.” You complain as she stares at you with the same shining eyes as the ones last night. “It’s a Putellas superpower.” You nod your head as she smiles and leans in, connecting your lips as she sighs at the lack of interruptions. As always, her hands fall to your waist and yours wrap around her neck, affectively deepening it until you here footsteps. “Good morning!” You hide your laugh in your wife’s neck at Emilia’s entrance. She slides across the floor in her socks as she joins the family hug, “Are you making pancakes?” Her blue eyes light up as she sees the batter and the Nutella. 

Alexia wrestles Emilia away from the jar as Emilia tries to feed her Nutella addiction. You watch fondly as your two blonde’s bicker playfully, “Mami, just one spoon por favor!” Alexia holds the spoon up out of reach, “I’ve been good!” She whines as she tries to climb up the former athlete’s body, “Emilia, Te daré un poco si bajas.” Emilia immediately complies as she holds her hands out expectantly. Alexia just sends her a smug smile before moving the jar of Nutella away from Emilia. The 8-year-old’s jaw dropped as she watched her mother laugh teasingly. She sends her a glare before running over to you to complain. She struggles for five minutes as she tries to get up on to the counter before Alexia takes pity and moves to help her up. Not knowing that was exactly what she wanted she quickly turned in her arms and squirmed her way onto Alexia’s back and eventually her shoulders.

Alexia was so blindsided by what just happened and before she knew it Emilia had a mouthful of chocolate and a big smile plastered on her face. “Por favor, ayúdenme.” Alexia sighs as she turns to you, “Emilia get down and give your mami back her Nutella.” Emilia didn’t care what happened to the jar now that she had gotten some and smugly returned it to her mami. You tried to hide your smile so you could reprimand your daughter, but Alexia still looked a bit dazed, and Valentina had stumbled down sometime between the wrestling.

Alexia sighed in relief as she picked up the four-year-old, “You would never eat my Nutella would you Val.” It was whispered but just like her sister, her hazel eyes lit up. Alexia’s eyes widened as the girl tried to wiggle out of her grip and reach the jar herself. Emilia had pulled herself up on the counter and tucked herself into your side. She leaned down a kissed your stomach, “Bon dia bebita.” You carded your hand through her soft hair, untangling a few knots as she mumbled against your belly. 

Emilia couldn’t wait to be an even bigger sister and was fiercely protective over her unborn sister. Eventually she looked up at you and you smiled down at her, “You remembered I existed huh?” Emilia giggled as you tickled her side, “Mama, I didn’t forget Mami distracted me.” Alexia made a sound of disgruntlement but was to busy with trying to make the pancakes and keep Val away from devouring the Nutella. 

“Poor Mami always gets the blame.” Alexia pouts as she looks over at the two of you, “Sí, I’m always being ganged up on.” You coo softly as she lets you gently stroke her jaw, “My poor baby.” Emilia laughs as she launches herself into Alexia’s arms. Alexia grunts at the impact, arms winding around the little blonde as her daughter presses kiss after kiss against her face. Emilia leans her forehead against her mami’s, “Te amo Alexia.” You laugh loudly as Ale’s face falls; Emilia had found the ultimate way to tease her Mami and often used it to her advantage. Alexia hated being called anything but Mami by her little girls, always adamant that they would never ever grow up.

“Just joking Mami, I love you.” You smiled as Emilia’s laugh rang out through your house. Alexia tickled the girl unmercifully until tears were falling down her cheeks and she buried herself into Alexia’s neck, trying to catch her breath. “What is all this noise?” A new voice joined the commotion as Isabella made her appearance. “Just your sister waking up and choosing violence.” You shrugged as your eldest slumped down on one of the chairs. 

Alexia was lecturing Emilia playfully as she threatened to tickle her again and after a solemn promise to behave Emilia was set free. “Can I get some Nutella?” Isabella asked as her eyes focused on something behind Alexia. “Touchy subject this morning Is.” Alexia crossed her arms with a huff, “No, you cannot until the pancakes are ready, vale.” Isabella scoffed before mirroring her Mami’s actions, “How come they got some, that’s so unfair.” 

Emilia sneakily wiped at her chin as you beckoned her over to clean it fully. “Emilia nearly killed me and Val…” Alexia turned to look at her unsupervised daughter and nearly shrieked as Val shovelled another handful of Nutella into her mouth. “Ay dios mio! Basta, Valentina Elisabeth Putellas, drop it.” Val just smiled up innocently at her mother as she licks at her hand. Alexia sighs tiredly as she picks up the half empty jar and places it onto the highest shelf, “Estas chicas me van a matar.”

Taking pity on your wife you gently reprimand your youngest as she licked at her lips. Alexia finally cooks the pancakes as you sort out the state your daughter is in with chocolate basically everywhere. You force Isabella to grab plates and try to settle Emilia and Valentina into their seats, so they don’t cause any trouble. Isabella decided to help her Mami plate the breakfast up, earning her a grateful kiss and a comment about ‘someone finally being on her side.’ Once all your kids were settled and eating their breakfast with Nutella you made two cups of coffee and handed one to Alexia. A strong arm wrapped around your waist as you watched your kids playfully bicker with each other. “Menaces.” Alexia mutters but anyone with eyes could see the pure adoration she harboured for her girls. 

You settle onto one of the stools by the island, Alexia hot on your tail as she passed Isabella some sugar. You felt a sharp kick to your stomach and your hand fell to your bump; you intertwined your hand with Alexia’s before placing it where your daughter kicked. You impossibly fell more in love with the woman in front of you as she laughed brightly, “She wants to join the fun early, don’t you mi preciosa.” Alexia was at eye level with you as she kissed your nose, “I love you and our family more than anything en el mundo.” 

You melt into her arms as she wraps her body around you, seeking brief comfort as she becomes overwhelmed. You catch Isabella’s eye who sends you a concerned look before you nod her over, not one to ever let her eldest sister do something without her Emilia followed and so did Val. Alexia felt arms wrap around her from behind as she turns, she’s face to face with Isabella who is balancing on the spinney stool. Emilia latches onto her waist with the softest smile while Val’s little arms wound around her legs. 

Alexia guides each of their hands to your stomach, letting them feel the little kicks. Isabella who had experienced it before clung onto to Alexia who happily reciprocated her hug, cradling her head to her chest as she watches Emilia’s pure fascination and Val’s wonderment. “Bebé princesa in Mama’s tummy.” Val asks her Mami as she gently prods at your stomach, “sí mi vida.” Emilia smiled as she took Val’s hand and held it up to your stomach, Val giggled as she felt the pressure against your skin, “That’s our little sister Vally.” Emilia coos as she holds her little sister close to her. You sent Alexia a playful glare, “We don’t know if it’s a girl yet.” You were met with identical knowing looks by all four girls. You already knew what was coming as you locked eyes with your wife. Just on time all girls chorused, “She’s a Putellas.” 

#alexia putellas #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas imagines #woso x reader #woso imagine #woso imagines #woso #barcelona femeni #alexia's favourite girls

[penny-anna]

how different Owl House characters might fare in a time travel AU (let's say back from 5 years post canon, dropped into their own body, classic scenario):

Luz: pretty good I think? i feel like she'd be able to convince Eda & King that she's telling the truth pretty easily. other characters would be tougher. post-canon Luz gives off the impression of being pretty smart and savvy plus she'd have the benefit of Glyph Mastery. most likely danger is that she'd end up over-planning and everything would just fall apart. Also the question of whether she'd manage to re-win Amity's heart.

Eda: my gut feeling was 'nothing would change' but that's not fair. would have no issue getting Luz to believe her bcos like Luz just wandered into a fantasy world someone there being like 'hi I'm your friend from the future' would be like aight let's chat. would probably hook up w Raine & their rebellion very early and get a lot of shit done.

Amity: would have a tough time getting anyone to believe her i think. also a much tougher time winning over Luz & her other friends as I don't think she'd be great at handling that situation. I could see her trying to just go it alone.

Willow: hmm i feel like she'd handle this pretty well? i think she'd do a good job of getting other people on side. similar to Luz might over plan it and end up completely losing her mind. would probably be there like 'okay now everyone's together, step one, we go rescue the Golden Guard'.

Gus: I feel like Gus & Willow mutually would trust each other unreservedly in this situation so he'd defo have at least 1 ally. significantly hampered by being 12 years old again. honestly i could see him leaping immediately to 'let's just kill Belos right now'.

Hunter: worst & yet also best option. no natural allies. extremely aware that if Belos suspects anything he is gonna be super dead. saving flapjack would be a very high priority. if we're sending him back to the beginning of s1 tho good chance of him just showing up at the Owl House and successfully winning Luz over for reasons of s1 Luz is down for anything; if we're sending him back to early s2 he's having a much rougher time.

Lilith: oh she would go insane I think

King: nobody would take King seriously

Hooty: nothing would change & i am not convinced he would even tell anyone

#the owl house

[cupid-styles]

lucky* (single dadrry x art teacher!yn check-in)

word count: 2.6k

content warnings: kids/family talk, fluffy smut (grinding, mentions of m receiving oral), not ramadan friendly!

based on this one-shot

. . .

From: Harry

Riley asked if he could tag along tonight. I was able to distract him with dino nuggets, but that kid has the memory of a full grown adult, I swear.

To: Harry

lmao. he can come hang with us, you know he’s always welcome here 

From: Harry

And let him take all of your attention after I haven’t seen you all week? Yeah, right.

I’ll be there at 7. 

To: Harry

is now a good time to tell you that i think your kid is way cooler than you are?

From: Harry

Come over and do the bedtime routine with us and you’ll think differently. x

Y/N bites away the smile edging at her lips as she looks up from her phone. She couldn’t help it — she always noticed the rush of happiness that swarmed through her body whenever she spoke to her boyfriend, especially about the prospects of plans. 

Her boyfriend.

She can’t believe that Harry is officially her boyfriend. Even though it happened a few weeks ago, she still finds herself in pockets of disbelief, mostly when they’re spending time together. She’ll glance over at him and take in his side profile, or remember that day when he came in, so angry at her for allowing Riley’s hair to be soaked with paint, and flush with the realization that somehow that turned into a real, loving relationship. One with mutual respect and care, one that was handled carefully, especially given the fact that there was a child involved. Y/N hadn’t ever dated someone who already had a kid, so she and Harry had multiple conversations regarding expectations and the changes this may incur on Riley’s life. 

Ultimately, they chose to keep most of the relationship away from Riley until things got more serious. She and Harry had every intention of being in the long haul together, but they both knew it wouldn’t be helpful to any of them if they threw in Riley’s comfort and mental stability. For now, all he knew was that his dad had a new friend who he liked very much, and sometimes he went to go see her and spend time with her. So far, it was working well.

Tonight, however, was the first night that she and Harry had decided they’d have a sleepover. It sounded ridiculous and childish, but Harry always struggled with leaving Y/N’s place early enough to catch Riley before he went to bed. He beat himself up when he got home and he was already tucked in and snoozing. So Y/N suggested having a scheduled night that they dedicated just to them: He’d get to put Riley to bed himself and do his entire winddown routine with him (dinner, a bath, reading him multiple books since Harry was a sucker and couldn’t say no, and finally planting a kiss to his cheek when his sleepy eyes finally began to close), the babysitter would stay the night, and Harry would shuffle off to Y/N’s. 

It was a good plan. 

Except… well, except that they hadn’t slept in the same bed together yet, and their touching hadn’t gone past kissing and heavy petting. It was difficult — it had nothing to do with their attraction for one another, they were busy, and it wasn’t exactly optimal to jerk your boyfriend off when he was disappointed at himself for missing his son’s bedtime. 

But Y/N and Harry are grown adults, and they’re aware of the underlying meaning of tonight. She knows it’s a big deal for him to place his trust in her after putting his own happiness and love life on the backburner for so long. 

It’s why she’s spent the day scampering around her townhouse, sweeping, mopping, doing laundry, and doing everything she can to make the place as comfortable as possible for him. He’s spent many evenings here — he often comes over for dinner after work since his days at the office run longer than hers at the art studio — but it’s different when you spend an entire night somewhere new. She wants her blankets and pillows to smell cozy and feel even fluffier; her bedroom a calm oasis so even if he begins to worry — whether it be about Riley, or other subject matters — he won’t feel as overwhelmed and nervous.

When 7 finally ticks along, Harry, as usual, appears at her front door, prompt and anxious. He hasn’t voluntarily left RIley alone for an entire night unless it was for a business trip. But the second Y/N answers the door with that pretty smile he adores, his nerves melt just a tad. She almost immediately pulls him in for a hug, a chuckle vibrating through his chest as he leans down to press a kiss to her hair.

“Miss me that much?” he teases. He sets his duffel bag down in the entryway of her home and she kicks the front door closed. Through flushed cheeks, she grins.

“It’s been ages,” she pouts, standing on her tippy-toes to lightly peck his lips, “And I’ve never gotten you for the night. I’m excited.”

Harry’s chest contracts slightly at her words. He doesn’t know how, but she has a way of making even the scariest things seem approachable, and it makes him want to smother her with kisses until she’s pushing him away. Keeping a grasp on his hand, she guides him into the townhouse he’s grown familiar with. He notices that her kitchen is free from its typical small messes — half-empty glasses, crumbs from late night snacks — and she has a new candle burning on the coffee table in the living room. 

“Did you clean for me?” Harry asks with a smirk. Again, she blushes before turning to face him. 

“I just wanted you to be comfortable,” she explains, sucking on her bottom lip, “It’s a big deal. Y’know?”

“It is a big deal.” he agrees as he issues her hand a small squeeze, “And I wouldn’t want to take this step with anyone else. I hope you know that.”

A wide grin covers her face. 

She doesn’t know how she got so lucky with him.

. . .

Y/N’s tucked into Harry’s side as their third romantic comedy of the night plays on TV. Glancing down at the warm, dead weight curled around his form, he smiles gently when he sees her eyes batting closed. He nudges her lightly.

“Wanna go to bed, baby?”

She hums tiredly and sits up slightly, pressing her chin to his chest to look up at him. 

“What time is it?” she asks, covering her mouth with her hand as a yawn struggles to strain free. He unlocks his phone, his screen glowing to life with a picture of a smiling Riley holding up a painting he did in Y/N’s class. 

“Just past midnight,” he replies, stretching his arms out. His tee-shirt rises up a bit to reveal a bit of his inked hips and it makes Y/N swallow. 

“Sorry this wasn’t a super fun evening,” she replies with a pout. She stands from the couch and leans over to grab their empty glasses — they’d each had a serving of wine each, but the minor buzz was long gone by now, despite Y/N being ever the lightweight. “Maybe next time we’ll plan something big, like… I dunno. Something good.”

She’s chattering sleepily and it makes Harry chuckle. He follows her into the kitchen, hugging her from behind as she rinses the cups in the sink. 

“This has been perfect,” he murmurs lowly before pressing a kiss to her temple. “We don’t need to plan anything for it to be fun. I just like being in your presence.”

She warms as she dries the freshly cleaned glasses, gently placing them in the rack on the counter. 

“You’re too sweet.” she mumbles. She shuts the water off and turns in his grasp to face him, lurching forward to bury her head in his neck. “C’mon then, let’s go to bed. You almost fell asleep on the couch.”

He snorts at her joke and rolls his eyes when she looks up at him with that dumb, cheeky grin she loves to flash at him. With their fingers intertwined, he bends down to grab his bag before following her to her bedroom. 

He’s been in here several times before — on evenings when she’s particularly exhausted, he’ll help her wind down for bed, pecking her lips before driving home. One time, when Harry had an awful day at work, Y/N ran him a warm shower, complete with fancy lavender-scented steam that he’s been meaning to ask her about ever since. Despite being semi-familiar with the space, their more intimate time was often being cut short for fears of Harry missing bedtime with Riley, or Y/N needing to wake up early the following morning.

This time, however, there was nothing stopping them. No deadlines, no places to be. The knowledge made them both buzz with excitement and nerves.

Her bedroom is dim as they quietly shuffle around, changing out of their clothes and into pajamas. Harry’s the first to crawl into her cozy bed, nibbling on his bottom lip as he scrolls on his phone. Y/N flicks the single lamp off and allows the moonlight to seep through the curtains of her window, yawning once more as she climbs in next to him.

“Everything alright?” she asks softly. Harry hums, moving his arm to wrap around her shoulders and pull her closer. 

“Yeah. Just wanted to make sure I didn’t miss anything from the babysitter.”

“Mm,” Y/N nods. She purses her lips, forming a gentle kiss at his jawline. “You still feel okay about staying overnight?”

A smile cracks at the edges of his lips. He locks his phone and places it on the nightstand before flipping onto his side to face her. 

“I’d be lying if I said a piece of my heart wasn’t still at my own place with Riley, but I’m so happy to be here with you. I promise.”

She swallows as she reaches out to thumb at his bottom lip. “You’re cute.”

“Am I?”

She giggles, “You are, and you know it.”

His eyes flutter shut as she begins to trace his features. With featherlight strokes of her fingertips, she ghosts over his lips, his chin, down to his throat and collarbones. He hums softly at the feeling, her other hand hovering over the hem of his tee-shirt as she silently waits for permission to push the fabric up. 

“What’re you doing?” he whispers out, eyes flickering open as she curls her fingers around the bottom of his shirt. 

“Is it okay if I make you feel good?” 

He pauses. Swallows, and she removes her hands from his form. 

“You can say no,” she quickly tacks on, “Please say no if you’re not 100%. I need you to be comfortable.”

His throat bobs. “It’s just… you know.”

She nods. They haven’t spoken about Harry’s anxiety surrounding physical intimacy since their first date, but she hasn’t forgotten about it. It’s been an active decision to move slowly and she would never want to do anything to push him past his limits. 

“We can just go to sleep,” she murmurs, “It’s okay. I promise.”

He catches her wrist in a gentle grasp, lips parting as if he’s surprised by his own bravery. Slowly, he guides her down to his crotch, where he’s tenting in his sweatpants. Y/N bites her lip before allowing her mouth to form around a small oh in fear of making him feel self-conscious. 

“I need to know that you’re sure,” she whispers in the darkness of her bedroom. Despite the limited light, she can still recognize his facial expressions, watching as a small wrinkle carves itself between his eyebrows. He’s nervous, that much she can tell. The rest is a mystery.

“I just need you to be slow,” he rasps. “It’s been… it’s been a long time, Y/N.”

She nearly coos out a response, wanting nothing more than to love and take care of the man that lays beside her. When he lets go of her hand, she cups him softly through the material of his bottoms, slightly surprised at how hard he feels. 

“You can trust me. I promise.” 

He nods, and it’s a flurry of shaky, hesitant movements and constant asks of reassurance from there. Everytime she pushes her foot on the gas, she reminds herself to stop and make sure he’s comfortable. He doesn’t ask to stop; not when she’s pulling down his sweatpants or mouthing at him through the fabric of his briefs, not when she’s drooling onto the ruddy head of his length or pressing her fingernails into his laurel-inked hips.

Harry is louder in bed than she had anticipated, or maybe it’s because it’s just been so long for him. He allows strained moans and curses to fall from his plush lips when she guides him into his mouth, and he even tangles a fist in her hair when the tip of his cock bumps down her throat. She thinks he’ll cum when she swallows around him, feeling his balls tighten in her free hand but he stops himself. She knows he does because he tips her head back and stares down at her with rounded eyes, taking her chin between his fingers and gently urges her up the length of his body. She obeys wordlessly, allowing him to move her however he deems fit. 

“I wanna see you when I cum,” he eventually explains breathily. She nods, ignores the way her heart feels like it grows another size in her chest, and straddles his hips.

“Is it okay if I grind on you? Or do you want me to just use my hand?”

“You can grind on me,” he replies with a nod, tongue peeking out to moisten his lips. And when she rolls her hips down against his, it’s magic — the wetness between them emits a dirty, slushy sound (admittedly, Y/N is half to blame, since she couldn’t possibly go down on her boyfriend without making a sticky mess between her own legs). Harry pants loudly beneath her and his hands find purchase on her thighs as she moves, allowing his length to slick between her pussy lips. 

It doesn’t take much for him to finish after that — especially not with his sleepy-eyed girlfriend on top of him, whimpering softly at the sensation of his tip bumping against her clit. When he comes, it’s a lot, and it’s messy, but Y/N can’t find it in her to care much as she leans down to smother Harry’s face in kisses; the pride in her chest for him growing to a point where it can’t be kept inside anymore.

“‘M so proud of you,” she mumbles. Harry laughs and wrinkles his nose as he wraps an arm around her waist, guiding her onto her side. 

“Jesus, it’s not like I have erectile dysfunction,” he jokes, and Y/N rolls her eyes. "And you didn't come, either."

“This wasn't about me— and you know what I mean, Harry. I know this means a lot. For you, for both of us.”

“Thank you,” he murmurs, his face turning serious. “I didn’t know if I would ever find someone as caring or genuine as you. You’re so… gentle with me, it’s almost like I’m dreaming.”

Y/N smiles and reaches out to cup his cheek with her hand. “I’m in this for the long haul.”

“I know you are,” he says, taking her hand into his and pressing kisses to her knuckles, “And I’m so lucky for that.”

#writing #harry styles #harry styles writing #harry styles smut #harry styles blurb #harry styles angst #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x you #harry styles one shot #harry styles imagine #harry styles fan fic #harry styles one direction #harry styles x reader #harry styles fluff #harry styles oneshot #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x oc #one direction #single dadrry #⭐️ #smut