#going through life. not feeling much of it

[tonycries]

Unmistakably Yours - G.S.

Synopsis. In which the strongest bends space and time - literally - after coming back from deatḣ, to do what he’s always wanted to do - you.

Pairing. Gojo Satoru x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, best friends to lovers, Satoru goes a little (very) INSANE, oral (fem receiving), fíngering, manga spoilers, use of jujutsu powers, unprotected, créampie, spitting, overstim, féral Satoru, heinous things, happy ending, pet names, swearing.

Word count. 4.5k

A/N. Yeahhh that poll was cooking up something devious heheh. Gege give me back my man.

Gojo Satoru was going to kill someone.

He was going to kill someone and it didn’t matter who. It didn’t matter how. It didn’t even matter if he had to haul his broken body - scarred and barely-healed - out of this stiff infirmary bed, because the great Gojo Satoru awoke and the world shook.

Because you weren’t here.

“Ah. The oh-so deadest one, I see you’re awake.” Satoru flinches at the sharp, exhausted drawl from his left. 

Slowly, he blinks away the haze in his aching eyes, desperately trying to adjust to the cold room. Shoko’s voice was too loud. The lights too bright. His waiting arms too empty - where were you? 

With a low hiss, Satoru’s body is moving before his mind, sitting up like a man possessed. Goosebumps prickle his skin as the thin blanket falls off his shoulders. Temples throbbing because the world was spinning and spinning and you-

“Calm down, Satoru.” Shoko sounds almost panicked now - as much as she could, anyway. Uselessly trying to push him back onto the mattress. “I don’t care if you’re the ‘strongest’. Sukuna did a number on you and you have to rest-”

“Where is she?”

---

It was the final nail on your coffin - that slight, steady rumble beneath your feet. So fleeting that you’d written it off as your weary brain, too goddamn tired from today. Heaving out a sigh, you rub your eyes in frustration, so fucking alone in this too-large penthouse. 

Fingers jittery, you rifle through your best friend’s closet for his box of blindfolds, because you knew he’d be complaining about the sensory overload at the infirmary if- when he woke up. Though, you think that was more an excuse for Shoko to send your wrecked self away than anything. 

Grabbing a few more than necessary, your heart lurches as you eye that dusty framed photo by his bedside. A much younger Satoru, Suguru, Shoko, and you - probably the last time any of you smiled so carelessly. 

One dead and the other just on the cusp of it.

He’ll be okay. He’ll be okay. He’ll be okay. He’s the strongest, right?

Swallowing heavily, you try to put your mind to something - anything - other than the memory of that battlefield and the blood. So much blood. Everywhere. 

God, you should’ve stayed. What if Satoru-

That was when you felt it. 

The tight, uncomfortable feeling of atoms standing at attention all around you. The air was so stagnant and heavy that it was almost hard to breathe. 

You don’t know how you realize what it is - but you don’t get the chance to wonder about it either. Because the thought has barely even crossed your mind before everything else is thrown at the window at those two words. 

Hoarse, and whispered, voice ever-so-slightly cracking at the end. One you recognized, one you knew you always would.

“My love?”

Satoru.

It was a miracle that you didn’t get whiplash from how fast you whirled around to face the doorway - and it was an even bigger miracle that you didn’t trip at how your legs were carrying you to that tall, familiar flash of white hair without a second thought. 

Hell, you don’t think you’ve ever run this fast in your life, and it still wasn’t quick enough when Satoru engulfed you in his arms. Letting out a soft sigh as he hugs you tight enough that it hurt, like he never wanted to let go. 

All familiar warmth and a rapid heartbeat that matched your own. 

A shiver runs down your spine at that scent of the infirmary, tinged with something so dangerously metallic, miles away from the usual hints of pine and candy. But you only pull Satoru closer - not even realizing the tears staining his snug t-shirt, nails digging into his sculpted back. 

“S-Satoru?” you murmur wetly, as if you still couldn’t believe it - even when you were in his strong arms. 

It killed you to pull away, and Satoru wasn’t any better, pulling you firmly to his heated body with a guttural grunt as soon as you showed any signs of shifting away. Grip almost bruising, fingers tight on your hips. But you didn’t mind, why would you? 

Because the strongest was nothing under your will - he always was. And it’s only once you break the embrace just a fraction of an inch that you confirm that this actually was Satoru - your Satoru. 

“You’re here.” you breathe out unsteadily, not knowing where to look first - his heaving chest, as if he’d run all the way here, or those faint scars along his exposed skin. Jagged, running down his pale skin like he was too impatient - too distracted - to let them heal properly. Satoru’s face was scarily blank, pretty lips set in a tight grimace like every second you weren’t locked in his arms killed him. 

He doesn’t answer - like he didn’t know himself. Nervously, you raise your eyes to meet his and-

Oh, Satoru, he was here. Alive.

Looking like he was ready to make sure that no one else was.

You just wondered where they’d pile all the casualties. Too many to bury at Jujutsu High if those tiny blue flickers of lightning at the corners of Satoru’s eyes were anything to go by. 

Gaze hooded, pupils blown, he didn’t look at you with that usual warmth. No, he looked at you like a man that had crawled back from death just to rip you apart. And you had half the mind to wonder whether this was some special grade curse that had just come disguised as your best friend. 

“Are you okay?” you try again, raising a hand to cup his cheek. “Toru?”

Oh, you might as well have just signed your own will, because no sooner are the words out of your mouth before Satoru’s jolting. Like the mere sound of that stupid little nickname from high school was enough to shock him to his very core. 

Electrify him just enough to finally look at you like it was the first time. Like he was seeing you after a thousand years. “My love.”

There it was again, that quiet, strained little mantra. 

Followed very closely by the deafening slam! of the door behind him, so hard that you spy one of the hinges rattling off. Startled, you look over Satoru’s broad shoulders just to catch a glimpse of the single, large handprint charred into the wood, slight steam wafting from his hand.

Shit. He’s lost it.

Almost like the strongest has forgotten his restraint - or didn’t care about it either way. Heated, you wondered what this boded for you. 

Will you be lucky number one on his kill list? You wonder, as Satoru presses his mouth right above your pulse. Racing. Dangerous. Feeling the rapid thump! thump! thump! under his lips.

Breathing you in, dragging his nose up, up, up- He mutters into your skin, “Y’can kill me if you don’t want this.” Will you go down - if there’s anyone left to remember, that is - as the casualty that surely and officially signaled the honored one’s descent into madness? Only the second best friend he had to kill?

Or, Satoru pulls away slowly from his little haven, breath ghosting your lips as he gasps out a shaky, “No God can take me away without doing this.” Will it be something else entirely?

And then he’s kissing you - and you’re kissing him. 

Because fuck, how could you not? This is Satoru, and this is all you’ve ever wanted since those late night convenience store runs in high school, hand-in-hand and teleporting away from a furious Yaga.

The same Satoru that had cockily winked at you goodbye before facing Sukuna - leaving you crying with nothing to hold onto but those cold, cold hands and wishes that you’d have just fucking kissed him before. Maybe even put aside your pride to just tell him.

But none of that mattered now, because Satoru was so desperate - drinking you in like you were the last breath of air on Earth. Like it hurt more to part with your lips than it was to be cleaved in half.

Such a mess of teeth and saliva, and you were addicted. Drunk off his sweet taste - like candy, almost, and those cheap mochi he always got from downtown - and the electricity pricking at you each time your skin grazed against his.

It almost hurt - but it hurt so good.

Gasping, you pull away for air - impossible with the way Satoru was like a madman, kissing your swollen lips again and again and-

“Toru!” you squeal, muffled through his lips. “Aren’t you-” His mouth drops into a soft oh! at the delicate strings of saliva snapping in the non-existent space between you two. Surging forward like he couldn’t help himself. “Battlefield- mmpf- now?”

With a pained grunt, Satoru finally halts, just a hair’s breadth from your lips. And if you were in any better state of mind, maybe you’d have noticed the brief flicker of blue lightning all over his body. The way the lights flicker. 

“Special curtain.” he pants against your open mouth, a muscled thigh shoving between your weakening legs. “Time barely passes in here.”

You don’t know what your head is reeling more from his words or his hands - hands that kill - caressing you like a lover everywhere. Unable to decide between your hips, to your ass, to your pretty pretty face. Kiss-bitten lips uttering, “Everyone’s waiting for you.”

“So?” Satoru lets out a humorless laugh. About an octave higher than usual, like he was at the end of his rope now. Eyes hazy and glowing, looking as if it took everything in him to not just tear off that uniform and take you right now. 

“But-”

“Shut up and let me ruin you, my love.”

Your back is hitting the mattress before you can even start to wonder what the fuck is happening. One second standing at the doorway and the other all sprawled out on Satoru’s bed.

Besides yourself, you blurt out, trying to make sense of the situation to both of you two. “Did- did you just teleport us?”

“Don’t know.” he answers. And Satoru sounded like he genuinely didn’t know, as bewildered as you were. Powers acting before him - way, way before he can think - as he fists your shirt in his hands. “Don’t care.”

And you half wondered whether Satoru was even aware of what he was doing as he pulls, down, down down. 

Rip!

It tears through the air - both the sound, and the way he’s just pulling your shirt to shreds. All depravity and no repentance as Satoru throws it behind God-knows-where. Buttons hitting the floor at a maddening little rhythm to which he was slowly losing his sanity. 

He was kissing you like he was angry - taking it out on your poor clothes. Because before you know it, he’s pulling your bra off. Fingers searing on your skin, skirt just tatters on the floor. 

“Waited too long.” he groans, leaving wet, open-mouthed kisses down your neck. “Always wanted to do this.” And once he started, it was like Satoru just couldn’t stop, rambling into the valley of your breasts, “Ever since I first saw you and oh-”

That was it - only one look at your panties, all flimsy and drenched - and you’re back to wondering what Satoru’s kill count would be. You shudder as his eyes widen, letting out a strangled gasp from some deep, primal part of himself. Voice so broken and starved as he muses, “-can’t believe I waited this long.”

Shit. You weren’t making it out alive.

Immediately, Satoru’s dropping further down the mattress, easily pushing your knees up all the way till they were at your breasts. 

And it was so unfair. 

Unhair how he was still fully clothed, while you were spread so shamefully. Unfair how he was sliding his underneath your panties up and down, grazing your swollen folds. Up and down, up and down up and- Pooling your sweet sweet juices on his fingertips before pulling, marveling at how sinfully soaked they were. 

And it was like something snapped - maybe his whatever restraint he had left, probably you by the end of this. Because just a split-second later, Satoru’s tearing right through your panties. Not even taking a second to breathe before burying his pretty face into your dripping cunt. 

Unfair how you were liking it so dangerously. Being so used. 

And Satoru knows - he thinks, with whatever rationality he has left intact - that he wants to admire your pretty lil’ cunt. To finally drink in what he’s been dreaming about for years all these lonely nights. But, no, that’s for later - for a different Satoru, one that didn’t feel like he was going to fucking die if he didn’t taste you right now. 

“Ah! Hngh- T-Toru-” you arch into his hot tongue, as he licks erratically up your folds, long, sloppy movements of his tongue all the way from your base to your swollen clit. Lapping at your juices like he couldn’t stop.

“Tha’s right.” words muffled into your cunt. Throwing your legs over his sculpted shoulders. “Gimme more, use me. Use me- fuck fuck fuck- yeah.”

He sounded as delirious as you were already, flinching with each word spat into your sensitive cunt. Drunk off your pussy and so messy, like he was well and fully intent on ruining you. 

And it’s all you can do to sob so needily as he swirls his tongue around your sensitive clit. Seemingly unable to decide between sucking on it harshly and dipping into your sloppy hole. In and out. Wanting everything. Anything. 

“Fuck. S’too deep. Sh-shit.”

“Oh yeah?” he’s grinning, a cruel, cold little grin. You can feel it as he rolls his tongue against your clit over and over. “S’not deep enough.”

You pathetically try to close your legs around his head in shock, as the tips of his long fingers spread open your pussy further, teasing your entrance. 

But who were you against the strongest? The one that got everything handed to him on a silver platter since birth? Except you - until now, that is.

Because Satoru’s swatting thighs back open like it was a mere inconvenience, and feel your cunt clench in- fear? Anticipation? as you realize how gently he was throwing you around like a ragdoll, in comparison to that door from earlier. 

“No.” he sounds absolutely wrecked, babbling around your throbbing clit. “Need this- need you.”

And then he’s plunging knuckle-deep in your plushy pussy, so greedily that your slick is trailing down his wrist. Drinking in your pretty gasps of his name as he roams for that one spot he knows will have you seeing stars - only the best for his girl, right? The only thing on his mind right now, like a predator starved.

You can only tug on his hair and buck wildly underneath him, inching Satoru closer to where he was desperately searching for. Close - so close. 

“Toru-” you moan, like a prayer. 

But it wasn’t fast enough. 

Not for Satoru, at least.

Even through the haze in your eyes, you could make out that brief flash of electric blue in-between your legs, eyes widening as ah-

That cheat. 

You wondered if he even knew he was using his powers right now. Or whether Satoru was too far gone at this point. Way too smug with the way he hits that one spot. Hard. 

Ah, you quiver as something so dark sparks in his eyes. Looking like a man starved, that had finally come across his favorite meal. Moving with frightening accuracy as he pumps his fingers in and out, hitting it each and every time. 

“Shit, ngh-” you let out a shrill moan, “It’s too good. You’re so fucking-” 

One hand was so messy toying with your dripping entrance - the other digging into your hips. Dragging your sloppy pussy senselessly all over his mouth. 

Hard enough that you were sure it’d leave marks for tomorrow. If you even made it that long, that is, if the tiny shocks of electricity at his fingertips told you anything. 

Desperate. Violent, even.

So it only makes sense that your orgasm was the same. “Fuck- m’cumming m’cumming, fuck fuck fuck-” You’re shaking as you cum, crying out Satoru’s name and delirious little moans that you’d otherwise be embarrassed of. 

And he doesn’t stop. Not when you’re blinking your vision back. Not when you’re shying away from his tongue, the stars behind your eyes too much with each flick of his tongue. 

“S’too much- too- fuck, sensitive, Toru.” you whine, big fat tears clinging to your lashes. 

Ah, there it was again. Just when Satoru was beginning to think that he might just be veering into a state of mind that could be considered sane - you have to call him that goddamn nickname again. And it’s only driving him wild. 

Well, he muses, fumbling with the hem of his t-shirt, it’s really on you then. 

You let out a fucked-out little whine as Satoru finally takes his shirt off, revealing such milky, toned skin. All sharp curves and dips like he was sculpted so meticulously, going down, down, down and- Your breath hitches at the large, pink scar standing out of his torso, so uneven and fresh that you feel a fresh wave of tears - different ones, this time. 

You take a steadying breath, eyes unmoving from the injury. “Satoru-”

“No.” Satoru’s tone is firm, so different from the metallic tinkling of his belt. He was moving now, shifting in between your legs to kiss those tears away. “Need this. Need you. Need you need you need you so bad-”

“But your…” you trail off. The words catch in your throat as he finally unbuckles his belt, pulling down his pants just enough that his throbbing cock springs out, hitting his sculpted abdomen. Red, and so so angry, soaked in precum. 

He was so…massive. Now, you expected your best friend to have a big dick, but this was ridiculous. He was so intimidatingly long, thick enough that you could feel the slick beading out of your sloppy hole already.

Yeah, you definitely weren’t making it out alive. 

Satoru sees it too, of course, because his cock twitches furiously. A low hiss leaving those pretty pink lips before he’s spitting on your quivering cunt. Once. Twice. 

And you know that if this shameless bastard could use six eyes to find your g-spot, then he could’ve done the same for this. But, no, he lets some of it miss, splattering against your inner thigh, smearing all over as Satoru thumbs in his saliva with your slick. 

God, he was treating you like some object. Wordlessly throwing your legs over his shoulders, dragging his weeping tip down your swollen folds. So fucking filthy. 

And then you feel like you’re been split apart - because Gojo Satoru was unforgiving. As was his aching cock. He’s barely even pressing through the first ring of muscle, and you already feel like he’s pushing all the way into your lungs. 

“T-Toru.” you yelp, glancing down at the way your pussy was stretched so lewdly around his thick cock. Quivering as he keeps pushing and pushing and- no mercy. Absolutely none at all. “Can feel you so deep inside ngh- I don’t think I can…” 

“No no no no no-” he’s panting into your open mouth. Fucking into your heavenly cunt in mindless, shallow little thrusts just to squeeze deeper inside. “Need this. Want this. Always did. God, fuck fuck fuck, you can do it-”

“But-”

God, Satoru can’t help but kiss you - to shut those cute lil’ whines up more than anything, he’s sure he’ll cum right there and right now if he didn’t. 

Because Satoru wasn’t any better. Body bowing into yours, eyes rolling to the back of his head, mouth falling into a delirious oh! as he finally bottoms out. Balls smacking your ass too hard, your pussy too tight, you too beautiful underneath him. 

Blindly, he reaches for the headboard - white-knuckling it so hard that it’s a wonder it doesn’t break. 

It does - and later you’ll find a pile of splinters behind the bed. It’s just that neither of you notice. Too high off the feeling of Satoru’s cock pushing inside you. You’re clawing at his back now, gasping for air. Letting him fold you in half to filthily lick away the tears pooling at your cheeks. 

“Shit- y’got this, my love. You gotta- ah- Breathe-” he can’t even speak properly, sharp tongue so heavy. Eyes glowing with such insanity as he rocks his hips harder into yours.

He was right - you needed to breathe. To finally wrap your head around the fact that this was Satoru - your best friend - the same one that binge-watches sappy rom-coms with you after every breakup. Every. Single. One. Somehow, you wouldn’t have it any other way. 

Both of you were barely-lucid at this point. And he was out of control now.

Funny, how in all his dreams when you were screaming his name - Satoru was always suave, methodical, playing with your pretty pussy like a fine instrument. Right now, he was anything but. Sloppy - like he didn’t have enough time, never would, even in this room where time slowed.

“Don’t you run away.” he grunts at the way you’re so adorably torn between running away from his cock and bucking for more more more- “Waited twelve fucking years for this. N’ m’gonna take it.”

You almost sob at the pressure as he laces his fingers on top of your head to slide you impossibly deeper. Down, down, down. “S’too good, Toru. Wan’ more-”

“More.” Satoru breathes, more to himself than anything. Eyes widening almost comically, a fucked-out smile spreading all over his face. “Y’want more even when you’re filled to-” He traces an invisible line halfway down your tummy. “Here?”

“Yes.” you gasp as he reaches down to toy with your throbbing clit, drawing tight, frenzied little circles. Balls smacking your ass so painfully, thumb pressing down right where his tip was hitting your cervix - as if he used six eyes to see. “Always wanted more. Always have, Toru.”

And you swear you could see something physically snap inside Satoru. Because his eyes glaze over, grin dropping instantly from his face. 

If you weren’t so cockdrunk maybe you’d have caught the way the bedroom lights flicker, the one down the hallway bursting. 

“Always, huh?” he’s muttering, grip on your body tightening like a vice. “Wanted more like me?” Rocking into you so sloppily, cock twitching so painfully as he speeds up. Fingers just as desperate - as depraved as his hips.

And this time, he doesn’t even have to use six eyes to find that one spot. Knowing your body well enough to hit it over and over until you were sobbing. “More more more more- fuckin’ take it then.”

At this point you didn’t know whether Satoru was always this ruthless in bed or you’d just broken him. It felt so good that it was almost scary. And your delirious mind wandered into the thought that maybe the bed would break - and your bones to follow. 

Well, they would have if Satoru hadn’t been using reversed cursed technique. But you didn’t need to know that just yet. 

“Satoru-” you squeal as he only gets more erratic.  “I’m…”

“Close?” Satoru’s grunting, smacking his lips against your own.

It’s laughable, really, that muffled question - because Satoru knew you were close. Losing his fucking mind, actually, at how you were squeezing so hard around him. Balls squeezing so painfully right now, but he wanted you to cum first - needed you to cum first.

“Yeah, so close. Wan’ cum- Ah! Please-”

“Then cum. Fucking cum, wan’ed this so bad.” he’s babbling deliriously. Little sparks of lightning visible even to your glassy eyes, fingers humming with a dangerous little energy that stimulated you so good. “Yeah, yeah yeah yeah fucking cum, wanna hngh-”

And then you are. So sudden and hard that you don’t even realize it at first. Just that you’re seeing stars behind your eyes, blood roaring in your ears. Rocking your hips into Satoru’s like such a slut. 

Oh, if heaven was really then the part of Satoru that can still form coherent thoughts thinks this just might be it. 

Because only the sight of you creaming all around his swollen cock and he’s cumming and cumming so hard that it hurts. Thick, hot ropes of cum that he can’t seem to stop. Doesn’t want to stop, and God he thinks he could cum until you beg and beg and beg it’s too much. Until you’re yelling for-

“Mercy!” you moan, head spinning with how fucking overfilled your pussy was. “Please, Toru-”

Satoru lets out a slight gasp, “Mercy?” Chuckling so cruelly at your dazed nod, “No mercy, my love. None at all.”

And God, it was so fucking hard to look at him too - eyes half-lidded and miles away, flushed and looking like he was anywhere but laid out on a hospital bed just a few minutes ago. In fact, Satoru looked like he was in heaven on Earth as he only milked his painfully hard cock on your snug pussy.

Pretty. Always so fucking pretty. 

And he kept whispering that, over and over in your ear as you both ride out your highs. Oh how he loved you.

Your eyes fly open, and Satoru knew he’d said that out loud. Shit. But, well, with the way you were immediately pulling him to collapse into your arms, he thinks he really doesn’t mind.

“Love you, love you. Love you so much. Always did, always wanted to love you- to fuck you.” You barely even notice him marking down your neck, sharp canines digging into the flesh like he wanted to break something. Hard enough that you distinctly wondered whether he was out for blood. “To ruin you.”

It was oozing out of you, both Satoru’s cum - dribbling down your legs in thick globs, pooling on the overpriced sheets below - and his power. Jolts of electricity running down all the way from your poor, abused cunt to your hazy mind. 

“So do it.” The air was crackling - crackling with intensity and the smell of jujutsu. It was in your veins, in your words as you whisper, “Ruin me. You’re the- ngh- only- one f’me, Toru. Always was.”

The lights go out. All of them - all across Tokyo, in fact. Shining so bright that it was blinding, until they burst. The last thing you see are his eyes - electrified with blue lightning, burning into your brain. 

And then it’s black. 

---

“I’ll be back before ya know it, my love.” he whispers against your forehead, cooing at the way you stir sleepily. “Gotta pest to take care of.”

Taking down that curtain wasn’t the hard part, the hard part was actually fucking regaining his senses enough to do so. 

And now, all cleaned up and fucked to sleep on his bed, you were looking so unbearably delectable that it made some part of Satoru just want to stay behind this curtain. To forget the waiting sorcerers on the battlefield. Saving the world be damned.

Well, no matter, Satoru had time. He was the strongest, right? After all, how could he give you the world if there was no world to give?

“N’ when I’m back, m’gonna kiss ya to death till you go out with me. Till everyone knows you’re unmistakably mine.”

A/N. GET IT - that unmistakable bit from the panel? 

Plagiarism not authorized.

#gojo x reader #gojo smut #gojo x you #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jjk x you #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru smut #gojo satoru x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk #jjk fic #jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru #tonywrites

[natjennie]

what's weird about the fantasy high drama is that like. it seems to me like people forget d&d is primarily a) a game you play with your friends and also b) luck based.

I mean it's fine to say that "nothing felt like a challenge" and "they just dominated everything and there weren't any stakes" but like. it's not as if they weren't up against huge threats. they lost the mall fight. the last stand was an onslaught of enemies. they fought a dozen dragons from an airship. the fights were hard. they're just really good. they've had very good dice luck in general this season and are all very high level and highly specialized. fig is gonna beat deception and performance checks. adaine's gonna figure out the arcana. riz is gonna succeed investigations. like. for some reason their strategical competence and wisely picked abilities are. a downside? a disappointment?

the thing about d&d that you need to remember is it's first and foremost a game. it's mostly random and it takes you down weird paths and you're playing to have fun with your friends. the dice are literally telling the story that it's their time, it's their year. they've struggled enough. they've trained enough. they're good at what they do. and in my post about the academic/domestic/personal stressors being the focus, d&d doesn't have any other system to work them out than rolling different skills. that's what d&d is. brennan set specific challenge levels for different tasks and the players strategized to prioritize which abilities they were strongest in. the challenges were there. and the players rose to them. they were both smart in their delegation of responsibilities and lucky with their dice rolls. of which, both are foundations of d&d.

don't mistake them being good players and getting lucky with there being no hardship. just because they smashed through the wall, that doesn't mean the wall wasn't strong. they were just stronger.

#i know some people are disappointed from a storytelling perspective. but you have to understand. #what was brennan supposed to do. he threw things at them both at and above their challenge level #he created a whole system to simulate academic and person goals and stress throughout the year #he gave them plenty of chances to fail #he set DCs high. #the players just knocked it out of the park #you can't tell any story but the ones the dice want you to #if he had manufactured more danger or difficulty where there was none it would have felt cheap #and do you not remember the night yorb fight #like. the whole point of the year was that it wasn't hard. it just never stopped #they can do it they're capable they're smart. but the hustle and the stress and the fighting and the working never ends #that's why nothing 'had stakes' or 'felt challenging' #it's the slog that gets you. it's how long you're willing to keep going. #how much life can break you almost to your last breath but you get through it and you keep going anyway #but. i digress. #and i say all this with complete and total respect to other people's opinions #i feel no hate and wish no bad feelings on anyone who disagrees with this! #it's just my personal view on the whole thing #sorry if im being annoying i just have. opinions. #fantasy high #d20 #dimension 20 #fhjy

[genderqueerdykes]

there really is a cultural pressure for transmascs & men to detransition, and it comes from all sides. it comes from the queer community too, not just terfs and cishet transphobes.

it took me a while to realize why transphobic people and transandrophobic queers utterly despise trans guys & mascs who are over the age of like 25- it's because it pisses them right off that we've resisted their attempts to make us detransition. it makes them so angry to see they were unable to groom that person into a life of self-shame and repression. it really seems like MOST people believe that trans men will just detransition eventually in life? people NEVER think about older trans men, only teenage trans boys and trans men in their very early twenties.

when i was involved with my local punk scene i was addressed with condescension, almost everyone around me didn't accept transmasculinity as a legitimate identity and thought that we would've transitioned by now in life. i encountered folks who would talk about transmasculinity with subtle disgust that made me feel like i was doing something wrong, and people who expressed overt disgust, saying in plain english that they were disgusted by breasts and vaginas because they were gay men. all along the way i was literally mocked for not having a penis, and one of my roommates started treating me differently once they found out i didn't have one (because they were attracted to me)

i've been on T for 9 years, and been out as a trans man for a bit longer than that, and i noticed as i've aged i've also attracted a lot of folks who have tried to deter me from identifying as a trans man, either through directly telling me that trans men are inherently dangerous, or by implying that women or another gender are safer, quieter, calmer, "less traumatizing to be around," etc. one of my exes told me they were terrified to date me (despite literally going out of their way to do so for over half a year) because they were scared i would be transphobic to them because i'm a transmasculine lesbian.

i received pressure from online friends to either detransition and become an intersex butch woman, or to something feminine adjacent or nonbinary. for years i dealt with a few friends who kept subtly hinting that i should stop identifying as a trans man or trans masc because of how awful transmascs are- going as far as to sending me screenshots of transmascs speaking, complaining about them and calling them whiny, annoying. talking about how all transmascs are entitled, how all transmascs take things too personally, how we complain too much, and so on.

people make no effort to make space for transmascs and men. i met 0 transmascs in my local punk community that i was able to stay in contact with. none. i met a few in passing but none that actually were introduced to me in a capacity where i could actually try to befriend them. it really felt like other punks in the scene were desperately trying to keep the transmascs apart at times. excuses were made as to why i couldn't hang out with other transmascs i liked, but i was constantly being forced to befriend transphobic cis gay men and transandrophobic transfemmes who outwardly expressed hatred and disgust of us. it really felt like it was on purpose... almost as if other members of this community wanted our attention, but never wanted us to give each other attention or a sense of community. like we were objects, not people to be included in the community for real. satellite friends, if you will.

i'll be honest with you. i was at my lowest at this point. i realized i wasn't just a trans man and that i'm a genderqueer person who experiences multiple genders, including womanhood and an "other" gender, which was great. however now i was being forced to completely stuff down being a man for the sake of other people. instead of folks telling me they'd rather not hang out with transmascs, folks rather just attempted to guilt me for identifying as such in the hopes i'd stop identifying that way. i was being told daily that trans men and mascs are inherently violent and terrible to be around. i was in discord servers where transmascs were being kicked constantly for getting even slightly upset about transandrophobia, or being unfairly targeted by staff.

it's violence, but nobody wants to call it that. i pulled myself out of there and am now able to contact other transmascs and trans men who are proud of who they are and have elevated me back into a headspace where it's okay to truly be myself. just keep in mind that if you feel like you're in that situation, you're not alone. people who attempt to groom others are often very subtle it's not always up front. they will start slipping in hateful sentiments very slowly and make you feel like maybe they're the ones who are actually right.

it feels good to be an almost 32 year old trans guy. there's nothing to be ashamed about there. people project their feelings on to my gender and that has nothing to do with me. it has nothing to do with you, either. people will just project on to you for whatever reason- hatred is usually the motivator there. if you encounter folks who keep trying to badger you out of identifying as your gender, no matter who you are, transmasc, transfemme, transneutral, trans anything- they are not good for you. they are not your friends. they do not accept you as you are and you deserve so much better.

#transmasc #trans #lgbtqia #lgbtq #lgbt #queer #gay #lesbian #bisexual #genderqueer #non binary #nonbinary #enby #ftm #transmasculine #trans man #trans men #transgender #transsexual #ftm gay #trans gay #trans lesbian #transmasc lesbian #butch #butch lesbian #dyke #genderfluid #intersex #about us #our writing

[luveline]

Hey Jade!!! I was just wondering if you could do a soulmate au with Spencer please? Maybe something along the lines of those cheesy ones like the first words are tattooed on or they have the same tattoo idk, whatever you u feel like 😊

—Spencer meets his soulmate. You’re as lovely as he’s always pictured. fem, 1.3k

Someone will love me one day.

Spencer must think it a thousand times. When he has to put his mom in the sanitarium and he feels more alone than he ever has in his life, he knows one day someone will love him anyways. When he gets called ugly, too skinny, nerd, dork, and a handful of words that are even worse, he knows one day someone will say the opposite. He won’t be alone forever.

He was two when they appeared, dark black cursive words tucked against his pulse. Spencer felt ugly nearly every day of his life, wrong and weird, but the words on his wrist have never changed, ‘You’re so handsome I can’t believe it’s you.’

One day someone’s gonna look at him and see handsome.

Today, he feels pretty good. He’s back home in Washington, D.C., the grocery store he loves is open again after a long reconstruction, and they had a bunch of fruit from South America that he’s never tried before. He carries a white plastic bag full of fruit, bread and cheese back to his apartment, each step in the sunshine, the kiss of it warming his cheeks. A busker plays music near the mouth of the subway station. Nobody has yet to scowl at him for being in the way.

He’s wondering what he forgot when he sees you. You’re smiling, the sun on your face and arms, which are strangely full. Books slide against your chest, but besides a little huff and a shift of your elbow, you don’t seem to notice the slim paperback working its way through the crowd in your arms. It drops down onto the sidewalk but you keep walking. You must be in a hurry.

Spencer darts forward to your dropped book, thumb under the title. Charlotte’s Web by E. B White. The spine is flaking and soft from use.

He should call out for you. You’re already getting too far away.

Spencer crosses the road and dives deeper into the city with you. Washington, D.C. isn’t without grandeur —it’s the capital of the USA— and so he finds himself surrounded by potted trees and stretches of well tended grass. School’s broken for the day, children weaving around on bikes and scooters or holding hands with their parents taking up altogether too much space. He loses you in the crowd.

Spencer stops in defeat.

Maybe if he puts the book back in your path you’ll see it on the way back.

He’s not sure why he doesn’t. Spencer keeps your book and starts to walk home. This isn’t how he’d usually get there, but he can manoeuvre around the park.

He keeps an eye out for you. Ridiculously, he’d thought about giving the book back to you and making you smile. He hasn’t talked to anyone who wasn’t a cashier in two days.

“Hi.”

Spencer looks down. “Hi,” he says, spooked by the little girl in front of him.

“Is that for the library?”

He shakes his head regretfully. “No, I– I found it. I’m trying to give it back.”

“Okie dokie. I never read that one before.”

“I’m sorry, it’s not my book to give away… Where’s your mom?”

The little girl points at a mom and a younger child playing on the grass near a circle of benches. There’s a huge dark cabinet with its doors skewed open in the middle, and when he squints he realises it’s full of books. “Oh, is that the library?” he asks.

“Yes!” the little girl insists.

“Okay, well, here’s what we’ll do,” he says, looking desperately for you, disappointed when he can’t see a sign of your nice blue shirt or your sunny smile, “let me go see if I can find the lady who dropped this book, and if she says it’s okay, I’ll keep it for you to have. But you can’t run off from your mom again. Deal?”

The girl grins, thick hair shiny in the sun. “Deal!” she says, running in a burst toward her mother, who startles when she realises she’d left in the first place.

Spencer creeps toward the library. He can’t leave the book here now, he’s promised he’ll try to find you.

You come around the back of the library cabinet with a smile. Free Library, the sign says. Take one if you want, leave one if you can.

You stop in your path when you see him. You smile again, you’re prettier for it, lovely with the sun on half your face, your slight squint. You open your mouth to speak.

Spencer beats you to it. “Hi, I’ve been trying to catch up to you,” he says, raising your copy of Charlotte’s Web to his chest. “You dropped one of your books.”

You take a half step back.

Spencer grimaces. “I promised a little girl I’d ask if she can have it, I’m so sorry. I get stuck and I don’t know how to say no.”

Your eyes flash down to your hands. “You’re so handsome,” you say, and Spencer’s heart stops dead in his chest, your lips shaping each word without measure and somehow the prettiest anyone’s ever looked as they move, “I can’t believe it’s you.”

His shoulders sag with a deep breath.

You raise your arm to show him the contrasting font laid against your pulse. Hi, I’ve been trying to catch up to you.

Spencer shows you his. You’re so handsome, I can’t believe it’s you.

“It’s you,” he says.

You press your hand to your mouth. “I was walking too fast, right? When I was a kid I thought if I made everybody chase me that eventually somebody would have to say it, but then it stuck, and I rush everywhere I go.” Your voice turns breathless. “But you’re the person who was supposed to catch up to me.”

He smiles softly. “I think so.”

“And I just told you you’re handsome. I’m sorry, I bet that was embarrassing to… carry around, all this time.”

“It’s the best gift anyone’s ever given me,” he says honestly.

“I didn’t think you’d be so pretty,” you explain.

“I knew you would be.”

You hold your hand out. He’s about to tell you he doesn’t shake but he finds he really wants to, and you’re not shaking his hand anyways, you’re holding it, looking at the cursive on his arm with a disbelief he echoes in his own smile. You rub the tip of your thumb over the word handsome.

“Do you like books?” he asks.

You nod distractedly. “I love them,” you murmur, looking up.

His entire arm is alive with tingles.

“Do you read much?” you ask.

Every word you trade with one another has this shy longing he’s never felt, like you’re desperate to know about one another but worried you aren’t allowed to ask. Spencer’s about to tell you all about it, how he’s always reading, how books have been with him through everything, but there’s a tug on his shirt that stops him.

“Hi,” the little girl says.

Spencer laughs. “Hi.”

“What did she say?” the little girl whispers.

Spencer looks to you for guidance.

“Of course you can have it. It’s an amazing book,” you say.

“Thank you!” she says, holding out her hands.

Spencer doesn’t mind handing it over. If she didn’t ask him for it earlier, he might’ve never had the courage to look for you. He could’ve left the book in the cabinet and turned around, but he didn’t. And now he’s met you.

You step into his side. “Did you– do you want to get coffee?” You peer down at the bag now slipped from his elbow down to his wrist. “Are you going somewhere?”

“Do you want to have a picnic with me?” he asks.

You nod for so long he has to laugh. “I’d love to,” you say, offering your open hand.

Spencer threads your fingers together. That one day he always dreamed of seems a lot closer than it did before.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction

[scoops-aboy86]

I just saw a post about a sugar daddy/sugar baby relationship but with the ages switched, so the one with money is in his twenties and the financially struggling one is in his forties. And I thought, wouldn't that be GREAT as a Steddie fic. 

Like, heir to the Harrington fortune Steve is just itching to dump his parents’ money down the drain on something. Or someone, because. You know. His parents tried to buy his love without ever being around to deserve it and that worked out Great, might as well continue the Harrington tradition (he thinks, while rolling his eyes). 

Enter Eddie Munson, walking disaster. Who sells weed for a living but spends most of his time planning and running dnd campaigns for underprivileged kids. Who is still trying to make it with his band, but meanwhile he’s the only member who can’t get a decent steady job because of bullshit murder charges when he was 19. (Which didn’t even stick, but it’s a small town… or maybe his dad just pissed off that many people.)

Eddie has the muscle tone of a slim jim and the hair of a tormented barbie doll, but the one physical feature he’s incredibly proud of are his tattoos. They’re all obviously home done, but when Steve realizes they’re all Eddie’s own work he’s (a) grudgingly impressed and (b) now has TWO great ideas for pissing off his parents. 

So Steve gets a tramp stamp in an apartment that he pays for but has Eddie’s name on the lease, and a grungy older boyfriend to parade around whenever he feels his parents need keeping in check. And maybe Eddie kind of makes it his unofficial job/personal undertaking to look into Harrington family dealings (he has his sources; his dad also schmoozed a lot of people and everyone knows his uncle is a stand-up guy) and alert Steve to things they’re being assholes about that Steve, more through fault of his upbringing than his own, wouldn’t have noticed. 

Like, maybe they own some medical buildings and are thinking of raising the rent on a pediatrician practice that offers sliding scale to low income families. At first, Steve is a little dismissive…

Steve: What’s the big deal? There are other pediatricians in town.

Eddie: Yes, but not everyone can afford to take their kids to them. 

Steve: Oh come on. 

Eddie: No, seriously. 

Steve: But… What if the kid gets really sick or hurt? 

Eddie: Sometimes they die, Steve.

Steve: ………………………. Okay yeah no that’s not happening. 

The next week, that practice has their rent lowered and a new lease locked in to keep the space (maybe even expand it into the plastic surgeon’s place next door) pretty much indefinitely and there’s an elite charity event that Steve and Eddie pointedly do not go to. 

(He can’t always get away with not going. Sometimes he plays the cards he’s dealt and goes with some pretty girl on his arm, but he has her home by midnight and he’s riding his boyfriend into the mattress by 1am.)

Eddie’s bandmates are dubious, but Eddie keeps swearing up and down that Steve isn’t a bad dude, he just has a lot of blind spots that he’s working on. Some harder than others, sure, but overall his cause seems to be just. Ish. A lot of what Steve does is motivated by petty revenge, but his parents are kind of shitty people so it tends to work out. “Plus,” Eddie adds brightly, “he’s a firecracker in the sack.” And is pelted with things for the crime of rubbing his sex life with a catch almost half his age in their faces. 

At some point they meet Steve, who has been specifically coached by Eddie to NOT buy out an entire restaurant or bar for the night just for the occasion. They come away with the general impression of, “He’s a little confused, but he’s got the spirit.”

Maybe they met in the first place because Dustin is one of the underprivileged kids Eddie was running campaigns for, and Steve has always had a soft spot for Dustin (and by extension all of Dustin’s friends and their families) since Mrs. Henderson was one of his nicer nannies growing up. Maybe Steve sets up a whole community center and tries to put Eddie in charge of it, but Eddie doesn’t really want to be anyone’s boss; he just wants to help kids excel at a game he loves because its one of the things that really helped keep him steady through his rough childhood and adolescence. But he does work there, because that way he can keep playing dnd AND teach guitar lessons. 

(Steve offered to help get the band signed to a label but Eddie was adamant, if they were going to make it they’d do it on merit, not money, or not at all. It’s really become more of a hobby for the other guys anyway.)

So Eddie is finally OKAY. He has a good income, a decent amount saved up from while Steve was covering all the bills he can now pay himself, and his Uncle Wayne hasn’t been more proud of him since the day he finally graduated high school on the third try (which was pretty good, for a Munson). 

And Steve… isn’t sure what to do with himself now that Eddie doesn’t need him anymore. He can’t think of anything he’s good for other than money—though his best friend Robin tells him that’s just because he’s a dingus, there are PLENTY of things. (They’ve been best friends since college, and there’s a story there but someone else is gonna have to fill in that blank because I’m getting sleepy.) Dustin chimes in that yeah, he can totally tell that Eddie has been sneaking Steve into campaigns as an npc (which he has to explain to Steve, again, even though they’ve been over this many times) for ages and is clearly so in love with him it’s ridiculous, has been for a while. 

Maybe Steve panics and does something dumb after that, but not so boneheaded that they can’t work it out dramatically in the rain after a brief period apart. Like in one of those romance movies that they both pretend they think are silly but genuinely get them choked up sometimes because they’re both kind of saps underneath it all. 

Eddie goes on to become a well respected tattoo artist, while still pitching in at the community center a few days a week. Steve continues his philanthropy work with the guidance of Eddie, Robin, his ex and investigative journalist Nancy, etc., and his own shaky-as-a-baby-giraffe-that-landed-on-its-head-straight-out-of-the-womb-but-getting-steadier instincts. They get married while skydiving (because Eddie joked about it and Steve held him to it), build the found family of Steve’s dreams, and live happily ever after. 

… Anyway, if someone could write all that out in actual prose I would love to read it. But with the sex dialed up to eleven because that’s important but I think I only actually mentioned it twice, a travesty.

#steddie #sugar daddy steve harrington #sugar baby eddie munson #eddie munson #steve harrington #this is more of an outline than a fic and it is Up For Grabs #scoops words

[moonstruckme]

Hii! I love your fics so much and I was wonder if you could do a emt marauders fix where the reader gets a concussion? I just got another one and it’s really taken a toll on me. (Again, I love your work SO MUCH!! It’s so comforting!!)

Hi my sweetheart! I'm so sorry, I swear I highlighted emt marauders when I was writing this request but somehow along the way I seemed to forget that it was supposed to be the au, I hope this is still alright (I'm very down to do another for emt specifically if you would like)! And I really hope you're doing okay!! Concussions are so rough, I hope your recovery is going well <3

cw: concussion

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1.1k words

Sirius wakes to shushing sounds from down the hall. Bright sunlight has snuck in through the cracks in the blinds, laying itself down in slats across the bed. He’s laying nearly sideways with no one else to shove him away, one of his feet dangling off the side of the mattress and his head on the opposite pillow. 

He gets up though his body doesn’t want to, following hushed voices into the living room. The curtains are drawn closed here, too, though it’s light enough for Sirius to make you both out clearly, you sitting on the couch and Remus with your hands in his, speaking to you in a hushed voice while slow tears dribble off your chin. 

“Hey.” Sirius’ voice betrays his lethargy, but you don’t seem to notice. You look up with shiny eyes as he steps into the room. “What’s the matter, sweetheart?” 

The answer takes time to come to you. Sirius isn’t sure if you’re searching for the words or if your thoughts are just evading you as they have been since you got hurt, but his heart twinges when your brows bunch in concentration. 

Remus only looks at you steadily. He’s been the most patient with you; Sirius and James both have the urge to guess at the ends to your sentences when you get stuck, but Remus only waits, letting you parse it out in your own time. 

“I’m sad. Frustrated,” you decide, though you look more glum than angry. You sniff. “I want to be better already.” 

Sirius nods in both understanding and sympathy, going to sit behind you on the couch. He knows Remus isn’t the most tactile, but it kills him to see you with your shoulders shaking and no arms wrapped around them. He’s quick to remedy this.

“We were playing cards,” Remus explains in his quiet way (a way Sirius has been trying to mimic to accommodate your sound sensitivity, though it doesn’t come easily to him), “and she just got a bit upset when she didn’t remember whether aces were high or low.” 

Sirius tsks, nosing at your cheek. “That’s common enough, darling. It can go either way.” 

“That’s what I said,” Remus tells him. His thumbs carve twin paths up the sides of your palms. “It hardly matters, I’m happy to play with them high or low.” 

“I just wish I knew like usual,” you say, though you already seem to be calming. Your voice has taken on that distant quality again. It still sounds like you, just a tad dazed, like when you first wake up in the mornings. 

Sirius rubs up and down your shoulder, pressing his lips to the side of your chin. He can’t imagine it’s comfortable, feeling so unlike yourself. Worse to know it’s not changing soon. You hit your head a few days ago, and it’ll probably be some time until you feel completely normal again. 

Sirius has been told he can be dramatic, but when you’d fallen he honestly thought for a second that you were dead, you were so still. In the pandemonium of sirens and doctors and waiting rooms that had followed, James and Remus had each taken a bit of time to process things, get their emotions in order, but Sirius has never been able to cry in public. When they finally got to take you home, he’d gotten in the shower and cried so hard he thought he’d throw up. He’s honestly not sure if he’s ever been so terrified in his life. After you got into bed that night he’d hugged you so hard you’d called him James, and your boyfriends had all laughed before they realized you weren’t joking. 

He and Remus hold you in silence for some time. None of you seem to mind. Sirius is still too sleepy to get bored, you’re presumably too concussed, and Remus is still Remus. He can look at the two of you all day and never need a diversion. 

The room seems to come alive when James gets home, not only because of his sparkling personality but also because he lets in a bunch of sunlight and a cacophony of street noise with him. 

“Hello, my loves,” he says, adjusting his volume halfway through the sentence. He shuts the door behind him with care, dropping his rugby bag onto the floor with far less. “How are we doing?” 

“I’m doing horrible,” Sirius says, though it’s obvious he was really only asking about you. “I haven’t had anything to eat yet today.” 

“You have just woken up,” Remus points out with a droll look, but James indulges him. 

He sets a big hand on Sirius’ head and kisses between his own fingers. He smells like dirt and sweat, gross on anyone else but hot when it’s him. James gives you the same treatment next, palm stroking down the back of your head protectively. 

“You alright, lovie?” he murmurs. 

You hum. “Why?” 

“Nothing.” His eyes slide to Sirius, a question in them. “You look as though you might’ve had a cry, that’s all.” 

“Water under the bridge,” Sirius assures him, giving you a firm squeeze. “We’re all good now, just very hungry and in need of someone to make sandwiches for lunch. Right, baby?” 

You nod amenably, but Remus fixes you with a curious look. 

“Are you hungry, dove?” he asks. 

You take some time to mull this over. Sirius bites the inside of his lip to restrain himself, and he can see James doing the same to his cheek. It’s a good thing that you’re taking such a thorough inventory of yourself, he supposes, but it’s agonizing to watch how much effort it takes you. After a while, you say, “I think so.” 

Remus nods. “Alright. We had a snack a bit ago, but if you’re hungry you should eat. I can make sandwiches,” he shoots Sirius a teasing look as he starts to stand, “since I’m not in the habit of taking advantage of those who’ve just got home from training.” 

“No, sit.” James urges Remus back down with a hand on his shoulder, squeezing fondly. “I’ve got it, I’m on an adrenaline roll right now anyway. Egg and cress all around?” 

“Yes, please,” Remus says. You echo a moment later. 

Sirius can’t seem to detach himself from you, which isn’t unusual but has been worse since your injury. He dots kisses along the edge of your jaw to amuse himself. 

“Are you feeling tired?” Remus asks you. “You haven’t had a nap yet today.” 

Sirius waits for the inevitable joke about your nursing home schedule, but it doesn’t come. You must not be feeling up to it. 

You shrug, mumbling, “I’m okay.” 

“Have a nap with me after lunch,” Sirius says. “I’m knackered, and I could use a cuddle buddy.” 

You make a confused humming sound. “Were you just asleep?” 

“I was,” he admits readily. “And it’ll be even better the second time around, with you there.” 

#poly!marauders #poly!marauders x reader #poly!marauders x fem!reader #poly!marauders x y/n #poly!marauders x you #poly!marauders x self insert #poly!marauders fanfiction #poly!marauders fanfic #poly!marauders fic #poly!marauders fluff #poly!marauders hurt/comfort #poly!marauders imagine #poly!marauders scenario #poly!marauders drabble #poly!marauders blurb #poly!marauders one shot #poly!marauders oneshot #james potter #james potter x reader #sirius black #sirius black x reader #remus lupin #remus lupin x reader #marauders #marauders fanfiction #marauders fandom #the marauders #hp marauders #marauders era #marauders x reader

[httpswritings]

i'll be here to save the day

alexia putellas x reader x daughter; 489 words

You were trying to calm your daughter down.

Anna, two and a half years old, the most confident but also the most sensitive girl.

You always told her how unique she was for having such a sensitive and empathetic personality, but deep down you were very worried.

The world was very cruel, especially for girls, and since you had found out you were expecting one, you feared for her safety.

Anna had been very fragile today.

She hadn't seen her mamà since yesterday, so when she saw Alexia through the tv screen playing a match, she pouted.

Her bottom lip was trembling and then she started crying.

Alexia loved football and the life she had to live, but she adored her daughter, and she felt very guilty for leaving her side.

“Annita, Mamà will be there in two days.”

Your daughter couldn't still understand the concept of time, so that didn't calm her down.

“I know you're very sad, my love, and that's okay. You can cry as much as you want, sí? I'm here to hold you.”

“I want Mamà!”

“I know, bebé. And Mamà wants you too. She's very happy to see you very soon.”

Alexia scored a goal and looked directly into the camera.

She did a sign with her hands to form the letter “A” and blew a kiss, to then make the special greeting she had with Anna.

“Look! Mamà is doing your greeting!”

Still, Anna didn't calm down.

She didn't understand why her Mamà was on the tv and not by her side.

“Annita, bebé... Come here, my love.”

You switched the tv off and got up from the sofa with your daughter in your arms.

You went to your bedroom and opened the closet.

You let your daughter choose three t-shirts from Alexia: The first one was for her to go to sleep. She chose one of that had some sparkles. The second was for her medium-sized teddy bear. The third one was for you. 

“Anna sleep.”

“Yes, bebé. We're going to sleep now.”

“Mami sleep.”

“Exactly, my love. I'm going to sleep next to you so tomorrow we can play with your dinosaurs since we wake up!”

“Mamà sleep.”

You could see how fragile your daughter was feeling, and you tried your best to not cry in front of her.

“Yes. Mamà will sleep thinking about us and when she comes home, we can all play together and watch SpongeBob!”

Surprisingly, Anna curled up to your side and your heart broke, noticing that she was no longer waiting for Alexia to arrive.

She held onto her teddy bear, that had Alexia's t-shirt on.

“Mamà here,” she said, pointing at the stuffed animal.

You just kissed her front, unable to find the right words to minimize her sadness.

Eventually, she fell asleep, and you couldn't hold your tears back anymore.

“Goodnight Ale,” you said, looking at the teddy bear.

#alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas imagine #alexia putellas #woso #woso imagine #woso x reader

[lavnderwonu]

first time | kim mingyu

pairing: bf!mingyu x virgin!fem!reader

genre: smut, established relationship

summary: your first time having sex with your boyfriend.

word count: 1.1k

warnings: contains smut (!!!), loss of virginity, inexperienced reader, experienced mingyu, fingering, clit stimulation, masturbation, size kink, oral sex (f receiving), mingyu is a sweetheart <3, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, aftercare.

author’s note!: inspired by this specific ask lol. i have been pondering this in my head for a minute, and i decided to just bring it to life. if this topic/genre isn’t your cup of tea, don’t read it, go read some of my other works. feedback is always appreciated, enjoy! 💞

p.s. we're lucky this made it out of the drafts

to be added to my taglist, click here!

“Are you sure you want to do this?”

Mingyu gently asks, gazing down at you as his hands are at the hem of your t-shirt.

He’s stopped himself from pulling it off, patiently awaiting your permission.

Mingyu was always patient with you, more so than you thought you deserved. He never wanted to rush you into something you weren’t ready for, especially when you were open with him and told him you’d never had sex before.

All your friends thought it was a mistake to tell him that, and that he’d find any excuse to leave, especially since they couldn’t believe that a guy like him could want to be with an in-experienced girl like you, and that he’d want somebody who basically…knew what to do with him.

But he never did, and he patiently waited for you.

Now here you are, lying on his bed as he’s towering over you, his hands slowly sliding up your shirt.

“…I need to hear you say it.” Mingyu continues.

You brush his hair back off his forehead, kissing him gently. “Yes, Mingyu…” You can’t help but giggle as you can’t believe how sweet he’s being.

He undresses you carefully, kissing all over your body gently.

Mingyu gently trails kisses down your stomach, stopping when he reaches the waist of your underwear. He tugs on the waistband as you lift your hips for him to take them off.

He takes in the sight of you; already nearly dripping wet for him when all he did was kiss you.

“Do you touch yourself, baby?” Mingyu asks you, his gaze lifting up from your soaking core.

“Uh-huh…” You nod, suddenly feeling lightheaded as he’s now watching your every move.

“Show me, baby.” He smirks, clearly amused.

“Go ahead.”

You bring your fingers down to your clit, circling it a few times, the sense of relief making your eyes flutter shut at the feeling. A heavy sigh escapes your lips as you dip your fingers between your folds to gather more wetness, bringing them back up to your clit.

Mingyu’s gaze fixates on your core, until it tears away when you call out his name.

“Mingyu…” You whine, as you shamelessly rock your hips against your hand.

“What, baby?” Mingyu licks his lips as he watches you. 

“Touch me,” You beg, leaning your head back against his pillow, while already feeling so eager to know what he feels like. “Please.”

Saving teasing you for another time, since you’re begging for him and he can’t resist, his fingers replace yours and holy shit is it so much better.

You moan against his lip as he kisses you fervently, before he’s climbing down your body until he’s settling himself between your parted thighs.

Your heart pounds in anticipation, his hands gentle as he pushes your thighs further apart for him. 

“So pretty…” He mumbles as he eyes your soaking wet core in front of him. “Can’t believe you’ve never done this before…”

You almost want to kick him as if to say get on with it already, but before you can even think, he’s nudging his face between your thighs. 

His tongue slides over your clit, and the feeling makes you throw your head back.

“Fuck…” You let out a shaky cry, as you reach out and tangle your fingers through his hair, tugging slightly as you’re desperate for something to hold.

Mingyu groans against your cunt as you let out the prettiest sounds, wanting to hear more from you, he slides two fingers inside you, feeling your walls stretch around his fingers.

“Shit… Mingyu,” You gasp, arching your back off the bed as your hips grind against his hand as his fingers slowly fuck you. His fingers stretching you open almost hurts, but it feels too good all at the same time.

In perfect timing he swirls his tongue around your sensitive clit just as he curls his fingers, perfectly hitting a spot that nearly has you seeing stars. With a loud cry of his name, your legs lock as an orgasm suddenly overtakes you.

Mingyu pulls back just as your head falls back against his pillow, your neck lightly covered in a sheen of sweat. You’re still catching your breath when Mingyu hovers over you again, kissing your forehead gently. 

“Ready, baby?” He asks, as he’s ridding himself of his Calvin Klein boxers, making your attention draw to his cock; the mere size nearly takes your breath away. 

“You can tell me to stop anytime… okay?”

“Okay.” You breathe out in anticipation, eager to finally know what he feels like.

Mingyu gently pushes your thighs apart, slowly running his cock through your folds to wet himself with your arousal. He inadvertently bumps your clit, making you whimper and grip the sheets in your fist. 

He lines himself up with your entrance, shuddering in pleasure when he finally sinks into you, making you gasp.

“Mingyu…” You whine as he’s stretching you open, making you grab onto his sturdy shoulders to ground yourself. “Fuck, you’re so big.”

Mingyu leans down to gently kiss your jaw, leading down your neck to distract you. “You’re taking me so well, baby. Fuck.” He groans as he finally bottoms out.

His thrusts start off slow and shallow at first, letting you get used to him. You’re squeezing his cock so tight that Mingyu feels the need to ravage you, but he’d save that for another time.

He gradually picks up the pace, as he shifts his hips slightly, making his cock drive right into your sweet spot, making you arch your back and push your chest against him.

You moan loudly as your nails dig into his biceps, making Mingyu groan as your walls clench him.

“Gonna cum already, baby?” Mingyu smirks, breathing so heavily you can feel his hot breathe on your neck.

“Yeah…” You whine, nodding furiously. Your mind is far too clouded with the feeling of his cock inside you to put together any other words.

“Go on baby, come for me.” Mingyu grunts, his fingers moving to rub circles on your clit, making you whimper. “C’mon.”

Your legs shake as you come with a loud cry of his name, Mingyu keeps going until he’s coming too, slowly rolling his hips to fuck you through your high.

It’s amazing how quick his demeanor changes, he’s immediately peppering kisses gently on your face, his puppy-eyes searching your face for any sign of discomfort.

“Was that okay?” He wonders. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

“No, no,” You reassure him, and he’s relieved as you throw your arms over his shoulders to gently play with his hair. “That was amazing.”

He gently rolls you over so he can pull you on top of him, basking in the feeling of your weight on top of him.

“We should do that again…” You hint, your fingers toying with his necklace.

“Do you want to?” Mingyu chuckles. You already can’t get enough of him.

“Maybe,” You snuggle into his chest, sighing contentedly. “I kind of wanna stay like this for a while.”

tags!: @cosmojinyoung @wonuwrites @dearlyjun

#kim mingyu #mingyu smut #mingyu x reader #seventeen x reader #seventeen smut

[hannieehaee]

Svt ot13 having to break up with their s/o for the sake of the group and their public image?

having to break up bc of their career (but not really)

content: established relationship, potential break up, public scrutiny, angst (no sad ending though ofc), etc.

wc: 804

a/n: i switched this up a bit to how they'd react to controversy about your relationship since i hate writing unresolved angst or angst with sad endings oops sorry </3

masterlist

seungcheol -

im sawrryyy his ass is far too stubborn to break up a relationship just bc his label wants him to. he also would not care what the tabloids are saying. he'd maybe consider it if it was affecting you, but ultimately he'd rather go on hiatus or just put up with the scrutiny rather than actually break up.

jeonghan -

he'd never admit to a relationship publicly no matter how damning the evidence was. would just completely ignore the subject and throw subtle lies about it. wouldnt even have to consider breaking up with you bc he wouldnt even acknowledge any backlash from your relationship at all lol.

joshua -

kinda odd to write about him considering ... anyways i think he would do the same as hannie and just not acknowledge the damage a relationship would do to his public image. i mean. if he finally found someone who he feels strongly enough about to let into his messy life why would he ever consider ending it? he'd feel affected by it, though, knowing the scrutiny would also fall on you.

jun -

he might bring up the controversy very subtly during a live or maybe one day straight up make a statement about it but never actually let it go further than that. he seems super private with his family, so if your relationship were to begin causing public uproar he'd just tighten the reigns on his privacy a bit more.

soonyoung -

just annoyed and frustrated about it. would try and subtly scold the media (and carats a little bit) about it on one of his private weverse lives. if the situation got too intense, though, he'd just opt for hybe putting out some type of statement denying the relationship in order to protect you from public opinion as much as be could.

wonwoo -

he's so nice and understanding and never blames fans for anything (even though sometimes he 100% should *cough* the mobbings *cough*) so he wouldnt blame anyone for their emotions towards his relationship. would consult with you and give you an out if you felt like you couldnt handle the situation (even though it absolutely broke his heart to even consider breaking up) but when you denied him he'd simply opt for putting up with the negative press and just continue to love you as privately as he could.

jihoon -

only one who gives me the vibes that he might actually try and break up with you just bc he loves you too much to put you through all this unwarranted hate all bc of his public image. butttt would not survive the heartbreak he felt at breaking up with someone he clearly still loved and would run back into your arms within the month.

seokmin -

just complete emotional turmoil. he wouldnt wanna break up, but if you did, he'd do it just for you. he also wouldnt wanna deny your relationship bc he'd feel like that'd be disrespectful to you. anddd he also would not wanna confirm your relationship since that'd just add extra hate to you. he'd opt to do anything you chose, making you his main priority.

mingyu -

his ass would NAWWWTTT care if people thought badly of him being in a relationship. he'd keep it as private as he could, but would never even entertain the thought of breaking up when dispatch suddenly got a hold of your relationship and the situation blew up. very nonchalant about it all, feeling too confident in your love to think anything could ever drive the two of you apart.

minghao -

gives me the vibes that he might just opt for making the usual statement idols always make of 'x idol is seeing x idol with warm feelings' or whatever the fuck they usually write. other than that he would still keep the relationship very on the down low and never allow public opinion to affect his emotions towards you.

seungkwan -

would take a very logical and professional approach to it by immediately denying any relationship and claiming the two of you are friends lol. he's so friendly with everyone it'd be very believable. wouldn't have it in him to break up a personal relationship over his career thoughhhh he's just too full of love to do that.

vernon -

yet another member to just absolutely ignore anything going on and straight up not care for any public reaction about it. wanna send trucks? wanna write articles about him? he's not even gonna see them.

chan -

would feel insanelyyyy bad that he ever put you in the limelight in such a negative light. would also feel embarrassed and annoyed at the fact that merely being with you would become such a scandal. in the end, he'd also just opt to ignoring the situation and denying the relationship in order to preserve your peace.

#seventeen fanfic #seventeen x reader #svt fanfic #svt x reader #seventeen #seventeen imagine #svt #seventeen oneshot #svt oneshot #svt scenarios #seventeen scenarios #svt imagines #svt reactions #seventeen reaction

[ynbabe]

Cute situations w/ f1 drivers- ep2.

Asking the drivers if they 'wanna nap?'

Charles:

"Wanna nap?" You asked the man as soon as he stepped into his hotel room, tired and eyes red. You knew Ferrari wasn't some winter wonderland but you didn't know why Charles put up with it.

You had been close friends with the man, since before he'd started f3 too, you knew he bled Ferrari red but this wasn't bleeding this was suicide.

Nonetheless, you were there for him, every weekend, only today there wasn't much to do, he had just come back from some meetings. He looked at you and hummed, taking off team-issued merch and throwing himself on the bed beside you.

You turned on some sad Adele song and faded into sleep, holding the boy close to you, his head resting on the curve of your neck.

Carlos:

"Wanna nap?" You asked Carlos as you both walked into his drivers' room, it was early in the morning at the Las Vegas GP and just as the year before they had messed up the timings and the drivers had to wait till four-thirty in the morning to get on with the programme.

Knowing the both of you, you were sure if you hadn't extended the offer the both of you would have ended up doom-scrolling through Netflix looking for some show to watch fighting off sleep.

"What?" He asked, shocked at the offer for a second before raising his browns and winking at you, "You finally feel my charm didn't you?" he laughed as he climbed onto the small and rickety bed next to you. "Smooth operator strikes again," he praised himself, pulling you close to him, enveloping you in his arms as the big spoon.

You groaned and kicked his shin, making him complain, "Dude you're so fucking lame!" You made fun of the older man who only replied with terrorism (tickling you,) "S-top, stop, I'm sorry," you laughed, trying to escape the death grip he had on you, eventually getting him to stop.

He let you catch your breath as he set an alarm, before trapping you in his warm arms again, both drifting into a comfortable sleep.

Lando:

It was way past midnight but you couldn't sleep, unable to get yourself out of the party high, too drunk to rest your brain. Thankfully you weren't the only one.

There was a barrage of knocks on your hotel room, a slurred voice with a British accent begging to be let in. "Y/n/nnnnn, I can't sleep," he cried once in the room, stumbling over nothing as you both made your way to your bed.

You giggled as he fell, brushing his hands over the cold blanket. You joined him, crawling onto the bed slowly as the room around you spun. You laid on your back, clinging onto the bed for dear life.

Lando noticed and piled on top of you, making you raise a question brow. "So you don't fall off," he muttered, his face buried in your chest.

"Ohhhh, that makes sense," you said, understanding his thought process as the spinning slowed down. "We should nap," you said out loud, eyes shutting due to the comforting warm weight on top of you.

Lando hummed in return, wrapping his hands around your waist, as you pulled one hand up to his and another grabbing his curls for extra support.

Oscar:

There were two things everyone knew about Oscar, he hated waking up early and he loved sleeping. So when his trainer woke him up on a perfectly cosy yet cool Monday morning to exercise, he nearly wanted to kill the man, only stopping because that would take much more effort than simply going through with the workout.

Your apartment was closer to the gym than his, so he happily invited himself in to bitch and moan about his trainer and how that man must have hated him.

Rolling at your friend's antics, you pushed away your laptop, walking from the dining table to where he was sitting on your sofa.

"Wanna nap?" You had barely finished your question when you were pulled onto the Australian.

"I thought you'd never ask," he whispered, as he shuffled on the narrow sofa to get comfortable, you still on top of him, his arms wrapped around your waist and your face buried in his neck.

"Are you using me as a teddy bear?" You asked incredulously, trying to get up to no avail as the man's grip on you was far too strong.

"Yes, now let me sleep," he murmured, already half gone.

George:

George had a habit of pushing himself too far, ever since he was a child. When you guys had just newly become friends, the boy had spent hours trying to find out what exactly you liked and didn't, stalking your Instagram and your family's Facebook.

You had found it endearing but also concerning how he always wanted to be perfect. So when you walked into his house at midnight (you got a key made- there's a reason the both of you got along so well,) and found him staring unblinkingly at his laptop and a large mess of papers spread across the wooden coffee table.

"Dude, what is wrong with you," You whisper-yelled at the man making him jump, pressing a hand to his chest.

"Me? What is wrong with you?" He yelled, panting as you jumped over the back of the couch, sitting right next to him, ruffling through the papers much to his chagrin.

"Shut it, Georgie boy," you smirked at him using the nick name he hated. “What are you even doing, it’s so late?” You asked looking at the taller man who started off in a rant about the car and everything he was doing wrong, making you slide down on the sofa till you head was resting on the backrest. You lifted your feet up to rest them on the coffee table, making George rush to move a stack of papers so they wouldn’t be under your feet.

Perfect. You grabbed the man’s shoulders and made his head rest on your lap.

“What on earth are you doing!” He yelled more than asked, trying to get up but you doubled down.

“George you need to sleep,” you deadpanned as he tried to make you let him go, knowing his pleas fell on deaf ears he gave up.

You raised your brow, “wanna nap?” You asked teasing the boy.

“Only for a few minutes,” he pressed, making himself comfortable, while you tangled your fingers in his hair, “maybe more then,” he sighed and let his eyes shut, slightly watering and finally fell asleep.

Lewis

Lewis had never been a friend to you, he was more like an annoying yet caring older brother or like a fun uncle of sorts. The man was fiercely protective of his friends, even those whom he saw in animosity.

But you were different, Lewis would steal your coffee, eat your food, and push you around but he'd also sneak you Red Bull (much to his disgust,) into his driver's room during late races, walk you to your hotel room after parties and get you souvenirs from races you couldn't be at. Similarly, you loved to annoy the man, stealing his expensive jackets, which looked hilarious due to the size difference, stealing his headphones and running away with them and most importantly coming to him with your problems day or night.

So no, Lewis wasn't surprised when you showed up to his driver's room in the middle of the day, even though Toto had revoked your pass for the day (for bullying George, but it was worth it,). He was ready to tease you but then he saw your eyes, red and tears flowing down your face.

"Oh my god, are you okay?" He immediately came up to you, giving you a once-over to see if you were injured. "Did someone say something, are you hurt?" He asked panicking at your silence. You simply wrapped your arms around the older man, hiding your face in his chest, quietly sobbing and sniffling.

He walked you both to the sofa in his room, seating you down, trying to wipe your tears, "Do you wanna talk about it?" He asked as you finally calmed down, using his arm as support to sit up.

You cleared your throat, "No, I just wanna nap," you hiccuped slightly.

"Okay," he leaned back so you could rest your head on his shoulder, giving you one of his airpods to relax, which you gladly accepted.

Lance & Fernando (they aren't always gonna be together but the situations... THE SITUATIONS WRITE THEMSELVES)

"Oh honey that’s not," Lance said pointing to your coloured hair (matching with Alex) and thats how the conversation had started and had ended in a cat fight.

“At least I’m not a nepo baby,” you yelled as you threw a basket of oranges at him, which he dodged, darn those f1 reflexes. The basket itself smacked him square in the face, leaving a red indent across his nose. He glared for a second before jumping over the table you were fighting across and pulled your hair. “Owww, you bitch”

You bit his hands in defence, to which he kicked your shin, screaming you launched yourself at him, crashing the both of you to the ground, “oh my god, okay, truce, truce,” he panted, pushing you off him.

“Just so you can catch your breath,” you retorted making him mock you. In reality, you were definitely much more tired than he was. You were struggling to catch your breath, your head killing you where he grabbed a large chunk of your hair.

You turned to look at him, resting your head on his stretched arm, he was massaging his nose, the bruise turning purple now, “well that was fun,” he turned to face you.

“Sooooo fun,” you rolled your eyes, “wanna nap? My heads killing me,” you are far him in accusation but he glared right back pointing to his swollen nose.

“Sure,” he shrugged, shifting closer to you and closing his eyes. You opened your mouth to make a joke but were interrupted, “there are like a million oranges on the floor right now, I’ll throw one at you,” you accepted defeat and fell into a comfortable sleep.

That’s how Fernando found the both of you, slightly scowling but fast asleep, he took a picture for blackmail’s sake and placed a blanket over the two of you.

PT-2 w/ Max, Logan, Alex, Daniel, Yuki, Pierre, Esteban, Zhou.

#f1 #formula 1 #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #carlos sainz #carlos sainz x reader #lando norris x reader #lando norris #oscar piastri #oscar piastri imagine #oscar piastri x reader #george russell x reader #lance stroll #lance stroll x reader #george russell imagine #george russell #lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton x reader #fernando alonso #fernando alonso x reader

[cutielando]

I just finished reading your chubby reader fic which I loved as a chubby girl myself!! I was wondering if you could do something similar with like a fit gym girlie I feel like muscle mummy’s tend to be forgotten a lot!

a/n: of course! people always overlook a gym mummy!!

my masterlist

warnings: gymrat!reader (reader is described as being muscly and frequenting the gym)

♡♡♡♡♡

Lando has always been keen on exercising. He didn’t really have a choice in the matter, seeing as his job required him to be in the best shape possible. 

However, that doesn’t mean that he looks down on people who don’t exercise as regularly as he did or at all. Every person was entitled to their own routine, in his opinion.

But when he met you, someone who lived and breathed exercise and hitting the gym, he felt like he had hit the jackpot. Being in the gym together, sharing your love for exercise with each other and always pushing one another to better themselves.

It was a dream come true, frankly. 

The first time he had suggested joining you for your workout, he figured you would go easy on yourself, do some light exercises and call it a day. The shock on his face when he saw you lifting weights, twice the weight he himself could barely lift, was something out of a movie.

You had found it so endearing, seeing him staring at you with such a perplexed expression and shock, you found it sweet and funny at the same time.

“Why are you looking at me like I’ve suddenly grown 3 heads that I don’t know about?” you joked once you had put the weights back and joined him where he was standing.

“You know you just lifted twice what I can lift, right?” he said, eyes still wide and staring back at you.

You laughed, holding your belly as your laughter rang through the fairly empty gym. This was one of your favorite things about living with Lando, the fact that the apartment building where you both lived had a private gym exclusive only for the residents.

“Babe, you know I’ve been a gym rat for years now. What did you think I’ve been doing all this time?” you asked, cocking an eyebrow.

Lando shrugged, stuffing his hands in the pockets of his pants.

“I don’t know, running on the treadmill? I figured you lifted weights and all that stuff, but I didn’t think you could lift more than me. And I’ve been training straight up hardcore my entire life” he explained, scratching the back of his neck before he reached out for your hand and pulled you closer to him.

You chuckled, wrapping your arms around his neck and letting yourself melt against his body.

“I can do more than that, but I’m still jet-lagged and my body takes a while to recover, you know” you explained, making the shock return twice as intense.

Lando could swear his brain was malfunctioning. He didn’t know why or how, but the way you were speaking and the things you were saying were doing things to him. He found you so attractive before, but now it had reached a whole other level.

“Have I ever told you how hot you are?’ he asked, his voice having dropped to a dangerous low mumble.

You bit your lip, looking into his eyes sensually. If you had known this was all it took to get to him, you would have brought him with you a very long time ago.

“You have, and I could say the same about you. However, as much as I want to jump your bones this very second in this very gym, I need to finish my workout and you need to work on your neck” you said, your lips brushing against his as you suddenly pull away from him and make your way towards the treadmill for a running session.

Lando stared dumbfounded as you walked away from him like nothing had happened, getting back to your workout just like that.

He would lie if he said he didn’t want to just ditch his workout and take you upstairs, but he knew Jon would be coming soon enough to help him with his neck training and he didn’t want to have to explain to him why he decided to skip it.

♡♡♡♡♡

Ever since that first day in the gym, Lando had insisted on joining you for every workout routine that he had time to attend. It didn’t matter if he had just got back from a race halfway across the globe, or he was tired and sore.

He wanted to be there, even if it was just to watch and admire.

“Baby, you’re tired, you really don’t have to come with me” you argued with him one very early morning as you were getting ready to go downstairs to the gym.

Lando had just got back home very late last night, having flown all the way from China. The amount of sleep he got was nowhere near enough for him to get enough rest after such a busy weekend.

And yet there he was, wide awake before 8 am and ready to go watch you while you work out. 

“But I want to watch you” he pouted, his eyes barely open. His hair was fluffy and his curls were sticking up in every possible direction.

You sighed, knowing you would never be able to say no when he looked at you like that, lips all pouty and those puppy dog eyes staring right into your soul.

“You need to sleep, love. You’ve barely had any time to rest this weekend and when you finally come home you’d rather come and watch me exercise than get some sleep?” you asked, smiling slightly, but you already knew the answer.

“I would rather spend any time with you than sleep. If you’re not here with me then what’s the point of sleeping?” he asked, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.

You chuckled, shaking your head. He knew how to weasel his way straight into your heart, saying things like that which you couldn’t overlook.

Once he noticed the defeated look on your face, he got up from the bed and took your hand, offering to carry your bag downstairs.

When you arrived downstairs, you were pleased to see that there was nobody in the gym at that hour, giving you two some much needed privacy.

“Alright, I’m going to run on the treadmill for a while and then do some leg lifting. Are you okay here by yourself for a little while?” you asked him once you put your earphones in and your headband on your head.

He nodded, taking a seat on a bench in the middle of the room. The sight all but melted your heart, the way he sat there with his hands on his lap, like a little kid waiting for his mother.

You nodded and leaned in to quickly kiss him on the lips, turning on your music and getting to work.

It wasn’t even 20 minutes after that you got off the treadmill and noticed Lando had fallen asleep on the bench, his head resting on his knee. You pouted, taking out your phone and snapping a quick picture.

Because you knew there was no way he was comfortable in that position, you decided to cut your workout short and get him to bed, figuring you could get some more sleep yourself.

“Lando, baby. Come on, let’s go upstairs” you slowly shook him awake, his eyes opening and meeting yours sleepily.

“Are you done working out?” he asked, stretching a little and looking around, seeing you more rested than you usually were.

“I only ran on the treadmill today, I’m skipping my legs session today so we can catch up on some sleep together” you explained, taking his hand and trying to get him to follow you upstairs.

He protested, shaking his head and not moving an inch.

“No, go on and finish. We can get some sleep later. I don’t want you to jeopardize your routine because of me. I’ll watch, do your thing” he said and planted himself more comfortable on the bench, now facing towards the apparatus he knew you would be using.

You smiled lightly, finding his obsession with watching you train endearing.

Never before in your life had anyone been as supportive of your workouts than Lando has been. Compromising his sleep schedule just to see you train and do your thing, sleeping on a gym bench just so he could watch you in your element.

You couldn’t have asked for a better partner in life, someone just as passionate about the gym as you were.

Maybe even more.

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#imagines #oneshots #fanfiction #one shot #formula 1 #formula one #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 fic #f1 #f1 x reader #lando norris #lando norris x y/n #lando norris fanfic #lando norris x you #lando norris x reader #mclaren f1 #mclaren #lando norris imagine #lando norris fluff #lando norris fic #lando norris blurb #lando norris drabble #lando norris one shot #lando norris au #lando norris scenarios #lando norris f1 #ln4 #ln4 x reader #ln4 imagine

[urfavleo777]

the only thing i need in my life is soft morning sex with Joost and just being so needy and loving for each other🙏🙏 (praise kink makes my brain go brrr😩)

love your work!❤️

lazy mornings

joost klein x fem!reader

warnings: face-sitting, language, smut.

your eyes open lazily under the influence of sunlight from outside the window. you mentally scold yourself and your boyfriend for not closing the curtains, but you were too busy with each other last night to even remember.

it’s quiet, save for the soft snores filling your ears. with the way your body is tangled with joost’s, you feel his steady breathing, his face happily buried in the crook of your neck.

this is one of the first times you wake up first. usually joost is the early bird who gets up just before the alarm goes off. the result of opening your eyes first was last night's drinking with friends. joost, well he drank way too much. so it's inevitable that he'll wake up with a huge hangover.

“god morgen, beautiful.” his morning voice is always so deep — raspy. you shut your eyes again, murmuring a greeting back at him as he props himself up a little to kiss you on the cheek. “ouch, my head.”

“do you need medicine, love?”

“no,” he yawned, covering his mouth with his hand. “i need only you.”

you laugh, starting to run your finger along jooste's tinted cheek. he closes his eyes under your touch, enjoying each new movement. a blissful little sigh slips from his lips, as he nuzzles into your palm. you lean forward to smear a kiss against his forehead, overcome with fondness; warm lips lingering on his skin.

you admire every one of his features, ghosting your hand over his bare skin. he always looks beautiful, of course, but especially when he has his eyes closed. it is mornings like these you most adore — a quiet moment to contrast your loud, busy life. a moment alone with your lover, with your thoughts. when you stop the scratching, he grabs your hand and places a long kiss on it.

he hums, before whispering, lips tickling the edges of your ear on purpose, pouting, “mh, continue.”

he’s a little too pretty, like this. framed by the hazy sunshine, like something out of a dream. all soft clouds and gentle caresses, the scent of dried lavender, the pitter patter of rain against a windowsill. all things kind and comforting. 

“i don’t want you to fall asleep again.” you laugh quietly, burying your hands in his messy blonde hair.

you’re afraid that your heart might give out, if you look at him for too long.

joost finally opens his blue eyes and, you take back your words, he is even more beautiful than ever.

being in joost’s arms is pure bliss. the most grounding sensation you know, one that never fails to calm you down, no matter how stressed or anxious you’re feeling. with his broad chest and strong arms, his bergamot-scented skin. so doting, pressing little kisses to your shoulder, trying to console you. his hair tickles your cheek a little, but it’s comforting.

“what’s wrong, honey?” he questions, voice set on a low, particularly soothing lilt. coaxing, almost cooing — a tone that buzzes with safety. his big hands go to rest on your head and back, smoothing down your spine.

”nothing,” you sniffle. feeling a little silly. “you’re just too perfect. ‘s not fair.”

a pause. 

then, a chuckle bubbles up from joost’s throat. something fond and delightful unfurls in his chest, a kind of relief; a feather-light amusement.

”ah, is that so?” he drawls, a lazy amusement flickering through his eyes. playful. “don’t you have enough after yesterday?”

“never.” you shake your head, smiling deviously.

“sit on my face then.” he shuffles further down on the bed, lifting his head away from the pillow. “go ahead. make yourself comfortable.”

as you obey, you feel a tingling sensation down on your lower belly, butterflies awakening as you place your knees in between his head. “such a pretty look.” you squeal when he tugs your thighs closer, his mouth immediately attaching to your wet pussy. joost growls deeply, feeling the vibrations on your cunt.

your mind goes into a state of bliss, your hands grabbing his hair tightly. “that’s right,” he says between licking your cunt, “fucking grind yourself on me, mhmm…”

“oh, baby,” you whimper, closing your eyes as your hips unconsciously hump his face, “i think i’m gonna cum.”

he replies with a deep “mhm?” and doesn’t stop playing with your engorged, sensitive clit. he laps his tongue on your pussy like an animal, his big hands gripping your thighs so tightly that they might leave handprints.

your legs shake as you climax, your hands reaching behind you to grab ahold of his thighs. he licks all the cum spilled out of you.

but joost doesn’t stop.

your eyes expand when he continues to drink up all your juices, lapping his tongue against your throbbing bud again and again, nonstop. the overstimulation makes you pull away, but he stops you.

“we’re not done,” he grumbles, “not fucking done eating your pussy.”

joost’s mouth and jaw were soaked in your wetness, and that’s clearly what he likes. joost likes it messy, he likes to eat your pussy like it was his last meal. and seeing you on top of him like this — being a good girl to take his tongue, learning how to subdue the overwhelming sensations and instead take pleasure in them, he plans to reward you after this.

“i—i’m cumming,” you barely say in a whisper, mouth agape.

joost chuckles menacingly as you spill all over him once again. he watches in awe how your body trembles, struggling to keep yourself up.

“good girl,” he kisses your inner thigh. “you’re more valuable than all the medicines in the world.”

#joost smut #joost klein x you #joost klein x reader #joost klein fluff #joost klein smut #joost x fem #joost klein #joost klein fanfic #joost klein angst #joost fanart

[fromgoy2joy]

Let's write about Jewish characters in dynamic ways- that make it clear "Yes this is us. Yes, we are living our lives with this happiness and ritual, and we love it. "

Like it's so easy to write about, to have casual observances of Judaism and cultural practices be in the background of stories. I'll write of the few examples I can think of in my frame of reference as a college student-

there's a mezuza in the doorway of a college kid's apartment. Whenever his friends come over, it's a reach for some of them to touch it because both he and the rabbi who installed it are 6 foot three. The others feel like a middle school boy slapping the ceiling as they try and reach for the damn thing.

Characters rush on public transport to get to a rabbi's house on shabbat. The train is due. There's a flurry of regrouping, then trying to call a missing friend to get there, and then the process of methodically hiding Magen davids and jewish objects because getting to shabbat dinner without a situation was an order from college Hillel staff.

A character is half-drunk at 2 AM at the convenience store but has to scan the list of ingredients on their chemically disgusting snack for gelatin.

Said character is prevented by her friends from only sustaining herself on 7/11 slushees "even though it's all kosher!"

There are references to the Purim incident constantly- it is never clarified what happened on Purim.

the hypothetical gang of characters are in the middle of nowhere on a grand magical adventure. The main character notices a mezuza on a door of a cabin, knocks on it, and has an in-depth conversation with the resident. Then, he waves his friends over. "Hey, guys! We have a place to stay tonight!" Because through the magic of Jewish geography, it was discovered that the grumpy old Jewish man in the woods is the grand uncle of one of his Jewish Day school teachers

A character who eats cheesy bacon bagels regularly on passover has a deep respect for jewish ritual items. He kisses the siddurim as they're handed back into a pile, he always kisses his kippah that he wears for ritual purposes of shabbats and minions. He's very careful with these objects and keeps on claiming dropping something He is observant, and he cares so much, but not in the "typical" way. Just... please show the nuance in practice.

The big "going out night" for our fearless college student isn't Friday but saturday night because of shabbat.

The stain on the rabbi's couch is not to be mentioned

A character keeps on mentioning the stain anyway.

Jewish goodbyes after any event take a minimum of two hours and that's why the gang is delayed on their journey to save the world .

I want more representation than characters in novels saying "haha I'm jewish but eat bacon and love Christmas!" in such flat ways. Please feel free to add more hypothetical ways of representation in the comments !!! About or inspired by your own life and experiences ! Let's make this post vibrant!

#fromgoy2joy thoughts #jumblr #jewish #jewblr #jewish tumblr #jewish conversion #jewish convert #jewish stuff #jewishness #jewish writing #tw antisemtism #one mention of #antisemtism #judaism #jew

[calicoheartz]

Please write something where paige x teammate!reader is on a live with KK, and then someone asks along the lines of "Are you gay?" and KK starts reading it, and paige and deader both go "don't. " almost like that one live. 💀

And then later the night KK goes on live at a bar or party and then you can accidentally see paige and reader make out in the back ground 👀

-🦢 (ily too)

𝐓𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐔𝐄 𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐃 ; 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐆𝐄 𝐁𝐔𝐄𝐂𝐊𝐄𝐑𝐒

꣑୧ — summary | basically the prompt !!

wc ; 637

— warnings | mainly fluff , somewhat suggestive !

my master list ㇀♡

a/n : anon , you are ALWAYS keeping me fed with your requests !! enjoy besties!:)

Paige and you are sitting in her dorm room, laughing over some inside joke as you scroll through your phones. The off-season has given you both some much-needed downtime, and tonight, you’re planning to relax with a spontaneous Instagram Live. KK, another teammate, joins in from her own room, and soon, the three of you are streaming to your fans.

“Hey, everyone!” KK greets the viewers, grinning widely. “It’s a chill night with your favorite Huskies!”

The comments start pouring in, with fans sending heart emojis, asking questions, and generally expressing their excitement. You and Paige wave at the camera, adding your own comments to the chat.

“So, what should we talk about tonight?” you ask, leaning closer to Paige, who’s reading some of the comments aloud.

“Oh, someone wants to know what our favorite pre-game rituals are,” Paige says, her eyes twinkling as she reads aloud. “I guess we can share that.”

KK jumps in, sharing her ritual first, and then it’s Paige’s turn. You’re about to share yours when a comment catches KK’s attention, and she starts to read it aloud.

“Are you gay?” KK begins, eyes widening slightly.

Before she can continue, both you and Paige, almost in unison, exclaim, “Don’t!”

KK quickly shuts her mouth, a mischievous smile tugging at her lips. “Okay, okay! Moving on,” she says with a laugh, clearly amused by the synchronized reaction.

The rest of the Live continues smoothly, with more light-hearted questions and fun interactions. Eventually, you all say your goodbyes and end the stream, laughing about the close call.

Later that night, the team decides to unwind at a local bar. The music is loud, the atmosphere electric, and you’re having a great time. You and Paige stick close together, your usual comfort zone, but there’s an underlying tension, a shared look that seems to convey everything you’ve been feeling.

KK, always the life of the party, decides to go live again. She’s capturing the energy of the night, showing everyone dancing, laughing, and just having a good time.

You and Paige find yourselves in a quieter corner of the bar, the noise around you fading into the background as you lean in closer to each other. The moment feels right, the mix of alcohol and the charged atmosphere giving you both a bit of courage.

As you glance over, you realize KK’s live feed is still rolling. She’s panning around, talking to other teammates, and then her camera inadvertently captures you and Paige. Without even realizing it, you lean in, and Paige meets you halfway, your lips meeting in a kiss that feels like it’s been a long time coming.

KK, still chatting away, doesn’t notice immediately. But the viewers do. The comments explode with reactions, and when KK finally notices, her eyes go wide. She quickly turns the camera away, laughing awkwardly.

“Uh, looks like everyone’s having a good time!” she says, trying to cover up the slip.

Meanwhile, you and Paige pull back, both of you blushing but unable to stop smiling. The cat’s out of the bag now, but in this moment, you can’t bring yourself to care. You’re just happy to finally share this with Paige, no matter how unexpected the reveal might have been.

Later, as you walk back to the dorms together, Paige squeezes your hand. “Well, that’s one way to come out,” she jokes, her eyes shining with amusement.

You laugh, leaning into her. “Yeah, not exactly how I imagined it, but I’m glad it happened.”

Paige stops walking and turns to face you, her expression serious for a moment. “I’m glad too,” she says softly, before pulling you in for another kiss, this one slower, more meaningful.

As the night ends, you know that things might be different now, but you wouldn’t have it any other way.

cami and her low-key short fics >>>> ... as always thank you so much for reading !!

#wlw #wlw imagine #wcbb #my hcs #wcbb x reader #headcannons #paige bueckers #paige bueckers x reader #uconn wbb #paige buckets #paige x reader #lesbian #so gay for her

[finelinefae]

the final [tennisplayer!harry x tennisplayer!y/n]

synopsis: y/n and harry reach the final in the academy slam

word count: 12.2k

contains: fluff, enemies to lovers, slow burn, tennis rivals, smut (oral f-receiving, first time for h and yn, size kink, mostly just soft), travel anxiety, brief medical talk

a/n: extremely sorry for the wait but i hope this is worth it. thank you for being here and reading this little series. it means the world and I'm obsessed with all of u <33

this is the final part of the game, read part 3 here

. . .

In any relationship, Y/N had always believed she was the dominant, reliable, independent partner. In all of her friendships, family dynamics and even teamwork, the people around her looked to her for something that sometimes she couldn’t even give. Y/N was constantly pulling pieces of herself apart to give to those around her and at the end of the day she found herself with nothing left for herself.  She was constantly burnt out, running on little energy to make it through to the end of the week. 

But with Harry, her whole world felt like a sanctuary, a blue sky hidden from everybody else by grey clouds. 

When she thought she knew all there was to know about herself, she was learning so much more through her relationship. 

She learnt that it was important to share things, that just because Harry could read her face better than most people doesn’t mean he could read her mind. She hadn’t realised how closed off she was about her problems until Harry had found her panicking outside her classroom before an exam. It was that moment when he told her he needed her to communicate these things so he could help her in any way he could. 

She learnt to accept that her love language was physical touch. She couldn’t keep her hands off of her boyfriend. No matter what they were doing or where they were standing, she was desperate to touch Harry in some way and he was obsessed with it. He loved how much she wanted him to hold her and how often she’d gravitate towards him to put her hand on his arm or hook their pinkies together. It was probably the reason why her lips were constantly chapped because she was always desperate to kiss him whenever they were near each other. Harry had told her once that our love languages developed from what we didn’t receive so much of as children, which made sense because Y/N couldn’t remember the first or last time her parents had held her. 

She learned that arguments were healthy, even when they didn't feel like it in the moment. Just because Harry was her boyfriend and their feelings for each other were strong, they still ended up bickering over little things. It usually happened when one of them was having a bad day; they were both people who felt things very strongly, and sometimes that clashed. But they made a promise that, no matter what they were arguing about, big or small, they'd never go to bed angry with each other.

The biggest lesson Y/N was learning was something that she had yet to come to terms with. Having feelings for somebody was already a new thing for her, especially feelings as strong as the ones she had for Harry. She’d never been so attached to somebody in her whole life.  Sometimes when she looked at him she felt like her heart was going to explode from how much it ached to be right by him. Y/N had always believed that she couldn’t feel much more than what she felt already, that this was how good it would get- and she was okay with that. But with every passing day, Y/N found herself floating higher and higher above ground as her heart began to inflate with such an intense emotion. Every morning, she felt like she was levitating right out of bed at the thought of seeing Harry. 

It wasn’t until one particular day that she realised she was in love with her boyfriend. 

She had woken up before him for once. Harry had always been an early bird, and so was she before him, but she loved staying in bed with him, basking in his warmth as he cradled her to him like he was cocooning her from the rest of the world and keeping her to himself for those brief few hours in the early morning. 

She was going to wake him up to get ready for school but she stopped herself. Y/N had seen many versions of Harry her entire life but this was the first time when she looked at him and saw the person who had carved a nook into her heart for himself looking so peaceful and relaxed. She’d never really thought too hard into it before, willing to let herself fall into this relationship and see where she ended up, but that morning when she looked at him - really looked at him- she realised there was only one person in this entire world who could make her feel like she was still dreaming and that was the person she loved. 

Of course, she hadn’t told him that. Never. Y/N felt genuine fear at the thought of having to tell him how she felt because everything she had ever truly loved she’d had to either work for or it had never loved her back as much. Surely loving someone as much as she loved Harry couldn’t be this easy. 

“Hey,” Sarah beamed, leaning against the lockers as Y/N replaced her books for her next classes. 

“Hey,” Y/N’s eyebrows furrowed as she glanced at her shirt, “What are you wearing?”

“Do you like them?” Sarah grinned, proudly. 

It was a white t-shirt with a tennis racket and a cut out of Y/N’s head plastered onto a tennis ball. The words ‘Y/N 4 court queen’ were written in red. 

“Please tell me you only got one of these?” Y/N begged, feeling embarrassed.

“Well they’re prototypes so there’s only four,” Sarah explained and as she did Mitch walked towards them wearing the exact same shirt. 

He put a hand around Sarah’s shoulders and kissed the side of her head before looking at Y/N, “How do you like the shirts? Me and Sarah spent all week designing them?”

“You designed these together? Aren’t you meant to be like horny teenagers or something?” Y/N tried not to laugh at their matching shirts as they stood side by side. 

“We can be both,” Mitch shrugs. 

“Who else is wearing these?” A throat cleared from behind them and Y/N turned around to find her boyfriend wearing his white school shirt unbuttoned to reveal the same t-shirt underneath. 

“Hi baby,” Harry grinned, walking towards her and kissing her lips. Y/N’s hands went to his waist as he pushed her up against the lockers. 

“And I thought we were bad,” Mitch said, “C’mon babe, I’ve got a few ideas for some more items we could sell.” 

Harry pulled away as Mitch and Sarah walked away. Y/N looked up at him as he loomed over her, he was just so goddamn tall. “Missed you,” He murmured, kissing her quickly. 

“You saw me this morning,” Y/N giggled.

“Hmmm,” He hooked his finger around her necklace and pulled her closer, “Do y’ like my shirt?” 

Y/N laughed, “I can’t believe you actually wore it.”

“Anything to support my girlfriend,” He winks. She’d never get tired of hearing him call her that. “Did you hear anything about the Academy?”

Y/N shook her head. After winning against Astrid, she was now onto the final where she would play Courtney Avalon the only girl in the competition who had been picked to compete in a Junior Slam at fourteen. Y/N wondered who thought it fair for her to compete but she wouldn’t let it ruin her chances of winning, she’d just train even harder than she already was. 

Unlike the previous games, the final wouldn’t be hosted at one of the academies instead it would be hosted elsewhere at a tennis club where professionals would play. There was no way of knowing where they’d be going, it could be in a different country for all they knew, but the final was a little under a month away and she still hadn’t heard anything about it. 

“S okay,” Harry knew she was overthinking the situation as he traced his thumb over her pulse the way he always did when she was nervous about something, “We just train the way we always have,”

“Do you think I’ll win?” Y/N asked.

“I know you will,” Harry replied. 

That same afternoon, Y/N was sitting in the library after school to finish her English essay on her computer when a notification appeared in her email. Her heartbeat hastened as she clicked on the email with ‘Academy Slam Final Location’ written in big bold letters as the subject headline. 

She clicked on it and her eyes flicked through the long-winded introduction before they landed on the location. 

Paris, France. 

She was going to Paris. 

With Harry. 

She tried to keep her excitement at bay as she threw all her belongings into her backpack and slung it over her shoulder. She made a quick exit out of the library and ran towards the parking lot where she knew Harry would be. 

Her eyes landed on him and she couldn’t help but laugh before running over to him and leaping into his open arms. “Paris,” She said and his eyes lit up. 

“We’re going to Paris?” Harry asked, seeking confirmation. 

Y/N nodded, “The same place they play the French Open.”

Realisation dawned on both of their faces as they understood the significance of this moment. Y/N would be playing at the same club where Harry was supposed to play before his injury. She waited to see his reaction, and a small grin formed on his face before he leaned in to kiss her.

“You are going to win this,” He says like a promise. 

She nods, the weight of the moment sinking in deeper. The pressure now felt even greater than before, driven by a desire to win not just for herself, but for Harry too. 

. . . 

Y/N sat on the bonnet of her boyfriend’s Audi with her boyfriend standing between her dangling legs as they made out, “Are you actually going to teach me anything?” Y/N laughed, pushing him away. 

Harry pretended to check the invisible watch on his wrist before shrugging, “We have time,” He leaned in to kiss her again but she playfully pushed his face away and slid off the bonnet. 

They walked hand in hand to the court where Y/N put her bag down on the ground and pulled out her racket. Her eyes caught sight of Harry taking a bucket of tennis balls out of the storage shed. He looked particularly cosy today in his navy sweater and white shorts he was wearing, his hair was a little dishevelled mainly due to the fact that she had run her fingers through them for the past thirty minutes. 

“Okay, so should we do a few drills?” Harry posed the question.

Y/N shook her head, “I wanna try something different today,” Harry frowned as she passed him a racket, “I want to play against you.”

She could tell Harry seemed unsettled as soon as the words left her mouth, “Y/N, you already know about my injury,”

“Just a little back and forth, if it hurts too much we can stop straight away,” She tried, hoping he would say yes. 

Harry took one look at his girlfriend, seeing the pleading look on her face. Even though he knew she wasn’t forcing him, he couldn’t find it in himself to say no. “Fine, one game.”

Y/N squealed and ran to the end of the court she always played on, getting into position. She watched as Harry rolled his ankles and bounced up and down to get used to the feeling of his feet on the court. He took a tennis ball out of his pocket and bounced it on the ground. 

With a playful chuckle, Harry tossed the ball into the air and served. Y/N lunged for it, returning it with a swift swing of her racket. The rally began, and each shot was met with cheers and laughter from them both.

Despite Harry's injury, he moved across the court with surprising agility, his competitive spirit shining through. Y/N knew he was at a disadvantage but still, she was in awe of how quickly he responded to her hits. Every time Harry would run for the ball, she’d find herself distracted by the muscles in his calves and thighs and the concentration on his face when the ball would go to her end of the court. 

In the end, Y/N came out on top with one score above Harry’s when they decided on the last round as Harry could tell the pain was beginning to stir in his leg. She walked over to him and put out his hand to shake his, “Great game,”

Harry rolled his eyes, taking her hand and pulling her into him, “You’re too pretty, you distracted me.”

“I’ve heard that one too many times before,” Y/N smirked.

“From who?” Harry frowned.

“Oh just people,” She began to walk away but Harry quickly ran up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist and spinning her around. 

“Harry,” Y/N laughed, loudly, both of them ignoring the watchful eyes of passing students leaving school late. 

He placed her back down on the ground and she looked up at him again, biting her lip, “Get back to those drills,” He shook his head. 

“Yes sir,” She saluted but Harry stilled.

“I didn’t know you were into that,” 

“What?” Y/N frowned before realising, “Ew don’t be so gross Harry,” She hit him on the arm and stormed away. 

“What else am I supposed to think?” Harry threw his arms up in the air, biting back a laugh. She turned around and threw a tennis ball at him before grabbing another one and doing the same again, “Oh c’mon baby, I can live out your coach/student fantasies if that’s what you're asking,”

“You’re an animal!” She hissed.

Harry laughed and jogged towards her, kissing her quickly and running through their usual training. 

. . .

Two weeks had passed until Y/N and Harry were finally on their way to Paris. Mitch and Sarah had dropped them off at the airport in the early hours of the morning with sleep still in their eyes. Y/N would be lying to herself if she said she wasn’t nervous about playing without her best friend cheering for her in the stands. But Sarah promised she would watch every second of the live stream from their dorm room and cheer her on from there. 

She’d also tried to call and text her parents to tell them she had made it to the final and she’d be going to Paris, inviting them to come along even though she already knew they would decide not to. She hadn’t spoken to them since the dinner and even though she was the happiest she’d ever been, part of her ached, wishing her parents cared enough to see her that way. 

Harry stood beside her as they waited in line to board the aeroplane. They had originally booked economy flights but Harry was insistent they upgrade even though the flight was only an hour long. 

They were both dressed rather comfortably for the flight. It was Y/N’s first time wearing a piece of his clothing, a brown knitted sweatshirt he offered her to wear this morning. She couldn’t deny the rush of excitement she felt when he tugged it over her head and kissed her forehead, “Pretty,” He said and smiled. 

But despite their comfy attire, Y/N couldn’t seem to stop fiddling with Harry’s fingers as they stood in line. She was nervous, biting the inside of her cheek and trying to ignore the sounds of the planes taking off outside. It was her first time flying and even though she was excited about going away to Paris, she hadn’t considered the prospect of flying and how nerve-wracking it would be. 

“Harry,” Y/N tugged on his sleeve, looking up at him. He was holding both of their carry-ons, his black bag in his hand and her duffle on his shoulder.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, sensing her nerves. 

“Will we be okay?” She blushes, feeling embarrassed at her question, “On the plane I mean?”

Harry’s eyes soften, “Of course,” He assures, “It’s the safest way to travel.”

“Okay,” She nods, before saying his name again, “Harry?”

“Yes baby?” 

“You promise we’ll be okay?”

He smiles, putting their bags on the floor and taking both of her hands in his. He squeezes her fingers when he feels how cold they are, “Promise, promise.” 

“Okay well if you’re lying I’ll probably never speak to you again.” 

Harry chuckles, “I mean if I’m lying and the plan crashes then that’s probably true.”

Y/N frowns, “Don’t talk about crashing,” 

“What? You bought it up.”

When they finally board the plane, Y/N immediately feels claustrophobic when she realises how small it is, “They’re loading us into a sardine can,” She mutters to herself and hears Harry laugh as he walks in front of her. 

They finally reach their seats with Y/N right by the window and Harry in the seat next to her. Harry places their bags under the seats in front and moves to buckle his belt. “Harry?” Y/N says his name again. He glances at her and sees how pale her face is, “I’m really nervous.”

He felt his heart clench, it wasn’t often that Y/N admitted to feeling nervous or afraid of something. Hearing the shake in her voice made him consider getting off the plane and taking her back home again. 

“Hey,” Harry cupped the side of her cheek, “Y’ got nothing to be afraid of sweet girl, everything’s gonna be fine. Might feel a little strange when the plane takes off but we’re safe and I’m right here with you.”

“I don’t know about this Harry,” Her eyes dart around and he knows she’s getting into a panic the more she thinks about it too much.

“Y/N,” Harry says her name gently, “Look at me baby,” His thumb rubs the skin under her eye and her eyes dart to him, “Can you feel this?” He gently wraps his fingers around her wrist and moves her hand to wrap around his own wrist until the pads of her fingers find his pulse. 

Y/N nods, her eyes glistening, “Can you feel that?” He hopes the feel of his pulse will calm her down, “That’s it, just breathe and calm down everything’s gonna be fine.”

“It’s going to be fine,” She echoes his words as though trying to inscribe them into her own mind. 

“M right here,” He comforts her, “You think I’d let anything happen to you after I just got you?”

Y/N smiles at that, “No,” She whispers, “You’re too stubborn.”

Harry grins, “Only when it comes to you.”

Y/N’s nerves were overwhelming as the plane began to move. She glanced out the window, watching the ground blur as they gained speed. Harry noticed her unease and reached for her hand, squeezing it reassuringly.

“What the fuck!” Y/N blurted when the plane lifted off the ground, loud enough for everyone to hear, “This is so not normal.”

Harry snorted a laugh, “Y’ doing just fine baby,” He rubbed soothing circles on the back of her hand.

Y/N’s eyes squeezed shut as the plane tilted, a whimper escaping past her lips when she took one peek out the window to see the clouds in the sky. “Isn’t it pretty?” Harry asked, ignoring how tightly she was squeezing his fingers until the point of turning blue.

“It’s a lot prettier with my feet on the ground,” Y/N responds, refusing to relax until the plane landed.

. . .

Y/N was in awe as they stood in the hotel lobby of the hotel they would be staying in for the next week or so. Harry had insisted he be in charge of choosing where they were staying as he had been to Paris plenty of times and knew all the best spots. Y/N didn’t argue with him, it gave her one less thing to stress about and she was never any good at making decisions anyway. 

The receptionist handed him two key cards and Harry rolled both of their suitcases into the elevator as Y/N followed closely behind. “Are our rooms next to each other?” Y/N wondered, admiring the lights in the elevator as they went up to the seventh floor. 

Harry’s eyes widened for a second but then they twinkled with mischief. She noticed him biting the inside of his cheek like he was trying not to laugh. “Is that what you want two rooms?” He asked and Y/N’s cheeks flushed. 

“W-well I d-didn’t want to assume,” She stuttered, feeling embarrassed. 

Harry handed her both room keys, “Room 764,” He motioned her out of the elevator when it reached their floor and she walked ahead, scanning the numbers on the doors as she did.

Eventually, she got to room 764 and stopped. Harry was still rounding the corner with both of their suitcases so she waved the key over the scanner and saw the light turn green but instead of opening the door, she waited for it to lock again. Switching to the other key, she repeated the action of waving it over the lock only to see it flash green again. 

This time she did walk through the door, putting both their bags on the ground as soon as she stepped inside. Her mouth fell open when she saw the room they’d be staying in. 

Y/N had stayed in fancy hotels before thanks to her parents but this was something she had never seen before in her life. It had a high ceiling and a chandelier hanging in the middle. White curtains hung from the windows with a view of Paris right outside their window. She walked into the bathroom to see marble countertops and a deep bathtub with a separate glass-enclosed shower. 

After taking everything in, she walked back into the bedroom where her eyes landed on the king-sized bed - one bed for two people. 

The sight of it made Y/N’s mouth dry. It was her first time sharing a space with any boy, let alone her boyfriend, for longer than one night. Although she’d been spending a lot of time together, this was the first time Y/N would be sleeping beside him, waking up next to him, and getting ready with him. In fact, this whole trip they were all each other had. 

“Do you like it?” Harry came up behind her and squeezed her shoulders, pressing a kiss to the side of her neck. 

Y/N spun round and clung to him, “Thank you,” She whispered, hoping he couldn’t feel the nerves radiating from her. 

“I was thinking we go out and get something to eat and then maybe walk by the river. We’ll be training for the next few days so,” She sighed, longing to just stay in the room with him holding her the entire time. 

“I’d like that,” She sighs, eyes closing. 

Harry chuckles lowly, she feels the vibrations from his chest, “Y sure?” 

“Mhm,” 

Harry smiles even though she can’t see, “Or we can order room service and stay here?”

Y/N seems to melt against him as he rubs circles on her back, “I like that idea a lot more.”

She was pretty sure Harry had ordered everything off the menu in the time it took her to unpack her suitcase. She smiled to herself when she saw their shoes side by side at the door when she went to put her trainers beside them. 

It wasn’t long before hours passed and Y/N was wrapped up in a plush, white bathrobe with Harry’s shirt and her pyjama shirt on underneath. A cart with empty plates of what once was full of an array of desserts and sides was cast off to one side as Y/N lay on top of Harry with a full belly. The TV played lowly in the back, Harry's hands playing with the ends of her long, loose hair. The sky had turned dark with the lights of Paris lighting the city. 

“Y’ sleepy baby?” Harry murmured, cupping her cheek and lifting her head like she was a little kitten so he could see her face. 

Y/N hummed, nuzzling her cheek against his hand and curling into his side. Her hand slid up his torso to fiddle with the cross necklace around her neck. “Go to sleep,” He kisses the top of her head, “Got a long day tomorrow.” 

Tomorrow they’d be off to the tennis club to train for the final at the end of the week. Harry had picked a hotel that was a ten-minute drive away just in case they ended up spending long hours into the night working on Y/N’s technique like they did when they were at Crestwood. 

Y/N’s eyes fluttered shut as Harry rubbed soothing circles on her hip to try and lull her to sleep. The outside world seemed irrelevant in that moment, he felt as though he could lay there forever in this comforting bubble they had created together. 

“Goodnight Harry,” Y/N mumbled, clutching his t-shirt. 

“Goodnight baby,” He whispered, feeling the happiest he had ever been.

. . .

“Somebody pinch me, I feel like I’m dreaming,” Y/N gaped as they walked through the tennis club. She felt Harry pinch the skin above her elbow, “Not literally,” She huffed. 

After a blissful night's sleep, Y/N awoke to her face buried in the crook of Harry’s neck as both of his arms held her tightly to him throughout the night. Sleep had always been Y/N’s worst enemy but she genuinely considered calling off today and just laying there with him. 

They booked a cab before getting ready which would take them to the tennis club. They had planned a morning session of training so they could spend the remainder of the afternoon exploring Paris properly this time instead of looking out the window of the back of a taxi or from their hotel room where they had spent yesterday afternoon lounging around. 

Harry smirked, “You haven’t even seen the best part yet,” He leads her to a big glass window in the lobby. 

Y/N immediately gasps, pressing her nose against the glass wanting it to disappear so she could walk straight through it and across to the Roland Garros which just so happened to be right next door. 

“I’m going to be there one day Harry,” Y/N says with the upmost determination in her voice. 

Harry nods in agreement, “You will,” He says and that makes her believe it even more. 

They walk hand in hand to the courts, Y/N in a white tennis dress and matching visor and Harry wearing a white polo shirt and white shorts. They were both wearing black sunglasses to cover their eyes, Harry snaked his arm around her shoulders, Y/N’s fingers automatically threading through his, as they walked outside. 

They seemed to pause at the same time when they saw one of the courts already occupied. The sound of the ball speeding through the air and hitting the racket of the girl running to hit it in time broke through the air. 

Y/N watched as the girl moved with such agility and force, meeting every hit made by her coach with her own. It was like nothing she had ever seen before, no one she had ever played against. 

With one final hit across, the ball landed somewhere past her opponent and the game ended. The girl grabbed a towel and wiped it across her forehead, smiling as she took a waterbottle from the cooler. Her head raised, Y/N’s eyes casting away in hopes she wouldn’t come over but it was too late and she was already walking towards them. 

Harry gave Y/N’s hand a gentle squeeze as if to say "be nice," already familiar with her temper. However, she had put up a guard, uncertain whether to trust this girl or not.

“Hi,” She said, “I’m Courtney,” She held a hand out to which Y/N slowly responded, “You must be Y/N, I’ve been watching your games. You’re good.”

Y/N felt her jaw tick at the tone she used in trying to compliment her like she didn’t think she was a good player at all but she was trying to be nice about it. 

“Thank you,” Y/N decided to not act out and instead remained civil.

Courtney flashed a pearly white grin, “Yes well my coach thought this whole Academy competition would be good training for the Junior Slam next year. It’s not often something I would participate in but no one can deny the glory of winning something no matter how easy it is.”

Y/N forced a smile, “You’re right, it seems every game just gets easier and easier. I’m sure this next one will be a walk in the park.”

Courtney smirked, her eyes drifting up to see Harry, “Harry,” She acknowledged, “I haven’t seen you since your injury? How is it?”

“Good,” Harry nodded, “Besides the fact I can’t play anymore, I’d say it’s going pretty well.” 

Courtney’s smirk deepens, “Is that why you’re doing this? Since you can’t play you’ve got a little pitbull to carry the torch for you.”

Y/N’s fists clenched, her nails digging into her palms, ��You know, I’ve been watching you too Courtney.”

Courtney’s expression turned smug as she crossed her arms, “Oh really?”

Y/N nodded, her eyes narrowing as she looked at her nose like she was inspecting it, “Your nose is looking a little crooked after last season. My mother knows a doctor who can fix that if you want their number?”

Courtney scowled and spun on her heel to storm away from them after being reminded of her embarrassing moment from last season where she hit herself in the face with her tennis racket and broke her nose. 

Harry chuckled from beside her, “I’m sorry, I know I’m not meant to but she pissed me off when she started talking about your injury like that.”

“It’s okay, if I didn’t think you had it covered I would have said something myself.” Harry began to walk to their side of the courts, “Now c’mon my little pitbull, let’s get to work.” 

Y/N scowled at his choice of words but followed him anyway. 

. . .

Throughout the entire week whenever they weren’t training - which was less often than they had hoped for but also the reason they were here in the first place - Y/N and Harry spent their evenings exploring the city. 

Y/N was thankful Harry had been to Paris plenty of times before, enough to show her around and take her to some of his favourite spots. 

Together they went to Harry’s favourite cafe each morning to pick up croissants and pastries to eat outside on the little tables and chairs. They visited the Eiffel Tower where they attempted to take photographs of each other holding it in the palms of their hands. They walked over to the Louvre where Harry paid for them to have a private tour in the evening and they would spend most of their evenings walking hand in hand as they strolled along the Seine. 

This must be what being a kid feels like. Y/N thought to herself as Harry lay in between her legs as they sat on the grass right in front of the Eiffel Tower. He was reading a book he had bought from a small, indie bookstore they had come across as they walked through the streets. 

Everything in her life had always been meticulously planned or she had to work hard for it, even at the age of eighteen. Both Y/N and Harry had been made to grow up quickly because their parents had raised them that way but together it felt like they had regressed back into their simplest forms. Life felt easy and colourful and magical. Each day, Y/N felt like her heart was shedding hardened skin and was slowly turning into this beautiful ball of light that weighed hardly anything inside of her chest. 

She paused her train of thought when she felt Harry’s lips press a kiss to her arm, “Let’s go out to dinner tonight,” He murmured. 

Tomorrow was the final and Y/N had been a nervous wreck all day hence why they had attempted to do things that might help her relax. Harry had woken her up with breakfast already carried in by one of the housekeepers and had offered to take her to the spa in the hotel but Y/N was desperate to escape the indoors and go outside so they ended up walking through the streets and stumbling into different shops on multiple street corners. Harry had even bought a baguette to put in his tote bag that they had been nibbling on all day. 

“I don’t know if I can handle eating right now,” Y/N admitted, the nerves getting the best of her. 

Harry shifted and turned around so he was lying on his stomach, his chin resting on her belly, “You’ll regret it if you don’t eat baby,” He kissed her exposed stomach from where her shirt had risen, “Even if it’s just a little something, y’ can’t go to bed hungry.”

Y/N knew he was right which is how they ended up in one of the fanciest restaurants Harry could have possibly picked from the many Paris had to offer with two plates of pasta and a shared basket of garlic bread between them. 

At one point, midway through making her laugh, Harry pulled out his phone to quickly take her picture. Y/N's cheeks tinged pink as she asked, "What did you do that for?"

Harry bit back a grin, “Because you’re my girlfriend and sometimes I take photos of you to make sure this is real,” Y/N rolled her eyes, “What? Do you want to see the whole album I’ve made for you too?”

“A whole album? Ew weirdo,” She teased. 

“Not a weirdo, ‘m just obsessed with you,” He says, “Wait until you’ve seen all the playlists I’ve made over the years I’ve been pining for you behind closed doors.” 

Y/N’s lips part, “You’re lying,”

“I’m not, I swear,” Harry chuckles, “Remember that box of chocolates you found in your cubby in fifth year on Valentine’s Day?”

“That was not you,” Y/N refused to believe it, “Sarah and I sat in the park after school eating them on the swings after she broke up with Byron.”  

“It was,” Harry nodded, his cheeks turning rosy but he carried on, “The day you asked me to teach you to play tennis I felt like I was floating on a cloud at the big old age of eight.”

“But you said no,” 

“Yeah because I figured you’d never leave me alone until I did and low and behold here we are today.” He says like he’s been planning this exact moment in time all his teenage life. 

“Ah so you’ve been scheming ever since,” Y/N joked. 

Harry shrugged, “I may have put things into motion but I think you were always meant to be a part of my life, Y/N.”

Y/N’s heart warmed like he was holding a candle beneath it, “I don’t think I remember anything good that you weren’t a part of.” 

He reached for her hand across the table and kissed the inside of her wrist, “You are my good.”

. . .

Harry leaned against the doorframe of the hotel bathroom as he brushed his teeth whilst Y/N lay on the bed in just a towel and underwear having just finished showering. Both their gazes were fixed on the television with re-runs of previous tennis matches playing with the volume down. 

Harry’s eyes softened when they looked at Y/N who watched the TV with so much awe on her face. He felt a sense of pride wash over him for both his girlfriend and for himself. After his injury, he thought himself damned and that nothing would give him the rush of playing tennis against big names like he did before but now he had Y/N and life before today seemed non-existent - maybe he hadn’t really been living at all.

He spat out his toothpaste and turned the bathroom light off. He stopped in the doorway in just his boxers when Y/N switched the TV off and there was nothing but the soft, warm glow of the lamp lighting the room. 

Her eyes looked up at him, vulnerability shining from them, “If I lose tomorrow will you still look at me the same?” She asked.

Harry frowned, “What do you mean?”

She sighed heavily, sitting up and pulling the towel closer to her to hide her naked chest, “Will you still like me?”

Harry’s eyes softened. It wasn’t often she shared such a vulnerable side with people so whenever he got a glimpse of it, he felt himself spiralling out of control like he was completely at her mercy, “No,” He starts and walks towards her squatting down before the bed and reaching a hand out to hold her cheek, his thumb smoothing over her cheekbones, “But I’ll love you a little harder than I do right now,”

A breath escaped from Y/N’s lips as they parted, her heart pounding, “What?” She breathed. 

Harry’s lips curved, “I love you.” 

She still couldn’t quite believe what she was hearing, “You do?”

Harry said nothing other than a small nod as he waited for her to respond, “I love you too,” She whispered, her eyes glistening, “More than anything in this world.”

Harry didn’t need to hear anything else as he surged forward to kiss her, his bottom lip sliding between hers. Y/N held his face in her hands as she kissed him as hard as she could whilst he crawled onto the bed. 

She fell back, feeling the soft sheets beneath her as Harry held himself up above her. The towel around her had loosened her pulse racing as she realised what was happening. “We don’t have to-” Harry started but Y/N kissed him quickly to shut him up.

“I want to,” She murmured against his lips. 

Harry nodded, his curls falling around his face as his cheeks tinged pink, “I-I can’t promise I’ll be good,” Y/N immediately shook her head, pushing his curls back and looking him straight in the eye.

“I love you, Harry,” She saw the way his eyes twinkled as she spoke those words, “Whatever we do will be perfect because it’s with you and nobody else. Just us.”

Harry smiles, “The way it’s always been. You and me,”

Y/N mirrors his smile before kissing him again, running her hands up and down his back with nothing but the sound of their lips connecting and their heavy exhales filling the silence of the room. 

As Harry kissed down her neck, Y/N felt her nerves escalating as an idea formed in her mind. The towel around her was the only barrier preventing their skin from touching, and she yearned to feel the warmth of his bare chest against hers. 

Before getting lost in a spiral of self-doubt, Y/N loosened her grip on the towel. Harry paused his assault on her neck and they both froze, “Holy shit,” Harry whispered maybe to himelf but she wasn’t quite sure, “Okay give me a second,” His eyes squeezed shut and Y/N waited. 

Suddenly, Harry’s head glimpsed down at her naked form lying beneath him. The only piece of fabric left on her was a pair of red, lace panties, “Fuck,” Harry cursed, “This isn’t real, pinch me so I can wake up,” 

“Harry,” Y/N laughed.

“I’m sorry baby but you’re just gonna have to give me a moment because- Holy shit.” He exclaimed, “This is way better than I imagined,” He muttered, loud enough for her to hear.

Harry was in awe of the girl that lay beneath him, every curve of her body and inch of her soft skin looked as thought it was sculpted by tender hands. His hands gripped the bottoms of her thighs and he felt the hard muscle from months and months of playing tennis and yet, despite all that, her skin was still so damn soft. 

Harry couldn’t think up enough words to praise the temple that was her body so he sealed his lips with hers, his tongue darting out filled with lust and need. His fingers slid up her thigh to grip her ass and when his hips rolled against hers she felt him - all of him. 

Y/N let out a moan as he kissed down her body, he pulled her into him until her breasts were pressed against his chest. Her arms looped around his neck, her fingers playing with the curls at the nape of his neck. 

Y/N hummed, her eyes fluttering shut, as Harry kissed and touched every inch of skin. She felt like all the heavy parts of her were being taken out of her body and only her heart remained. He cupped her breasts in his hand and squeezed, her nipples hardening despite the warmth of his touch.  She felt like dough, fluffy and light, and no matter what he did to her they would somehow mould together perfectly. 

She felt Harry’s thumb hook the waistband of her panties when he kissed the inside of her thigh, “Harry,” Y/N gasped. It seemed to be the only word she had left inside of her empty head. 

“Do you want me to stop?” He asked, his green eyes peering up at her.

“No,” She said, too quickly, “You can do anything y’ want to me.” She trusted him that much. 

Harry shuddered at her words, his heart expanding three sizes inside of his chest. He didn’t think it was possible to feel this way about somebody, to feel like all his calloused skin was peeling off of his body and now he was someone completely new. 

With shaky hands, he removed Y/N’s underwear, seeing the way her chest rose and fell. His hands gently pushed her plush thighs apart, “Fuck baby,” He groaned. 

“Please Harry,” Y/N mewled, her hips wriggling in hopes the action would propel him to do something. 

“Calm down lovie, jus’ admiring how pretty y’ are,” He smirks, his thumb trailing up her slit until it reached her clit. He stopped, hearing her weighted breaths before he began to rub it in slow, teasing circles. He caught the stutter in her breath, watching when her hands fisted the blanket. 

Without warning, Y/N feels his warm, wet tongue run between her folds. The sensation feels foreign but she’s overcome by intense pleasure as he begins lapping her through her folds. She feels her lungs deflate as the air escapes her, unable to breathe when he teases her clenching open. Her toes curl as his other hand travels to her hip to hold her down and nuzzle his face harder against her. 

Hearing her whines and feeling her writing beneath him, Harry feels his cock throbbing in his boxers, he could feel the damp fabric against his skin as he pressed himself into the mattress with his head still in between her thighs. 

“So good,” Y/N babbles, her body shivering when she felt the coil begin to tighten in the pit of her belly, “So, so good Harry.”

Before she could find her release, Harry pulled away his chin glistening with her juices. Y/N’s hands grapple for him but she can barely reach him and feels too floaty to try any harder. Harry’s hair is a mess as he crawls up her bare body and kisses her. She tastes herself on his tongue when they brush against each other, “I need to be inside of you,” He slurs against her lips, “I need you so bad Y/N, I think I’ll go crazy if I don’t.” 

Harry’s head hangs, his curls falling in front of his face. Y/N automatically pushes them back, her hips rolling against his. She can feel the damp spot against his boxers despite her own wetness covering her thighs, “I’m on birth control,” She tells him. 

Harry groans, his forehead pressing against her collarbones, “Of course you are,” He says, “Always so fucking prepared, aren’t you?” He drawls, “My best girl,”

Y/N’s heart flips and spins at his words, but the reality of the situation sets in when she feels him removing his boxers. She gasps as she feels his hardened length against the inside of her thigh. She wasn’t sure what she was expecting, but Harry was big; she had no clue whether it was normal for someone to be as thick as he was, and she wondered how she was meant to fit it all inside of her.

“Is this okay?” He murmurs and Y/N nods, “I feel like we should high-five or something,”

Y/N can’t help but laugh, “What?”

“Well we’re both virgins about to lose our virginity, shouldn’t we like boost morale or something?” He jokes and Y/N laughs so hard her cheeks ache. 

After they both settle, Harry kisses her quickly as he lines his cock up to her pussy, “Harry?” He hums a reponse, “It’ll fit right?”

Harry groaned, his mind still picturing her small, wet glistening pussy that he had just had his first taste of, “Yes baby, it’s your first time so it’ll hurt a little but if you want to stop we’ll stop and if you say go we’ll go and if you want me to leave you alone for ten minutes, I’ll leave for five. Whatever you want.” 

“Okay,” She nods, fully determined, “I love you,”

Harry’s eyes soften, “I love you too, lovie.”

Y/N smiles, “I like that name,”

“Yeah?” Harry’s lips curve. 

“Yeah,” Y/N loops her arms around his neck and tries her best to relax when she feels the tip of his cock brush through her folds. 

Harry kisses her forehead, “Take a deep breath,” He says and as she does, she feels him push his hips down and his tip gently ease into her. She gasps, feeling her pussy throb as he moves achingly slow, inch by inch inside of her. A thin layer of sweat covers Harry’s forehead, his jaw clenching as he feels her walls squeezing him tightly. 

She feels a sting of pain as his thick length pushes through her, her pussy stretching to accommodate his size. 

“Baby,” He murmurs, the tip of his nose brushing over her cheek, “If you keep clenching around me I’m gonna cum before I’m all the way inside of you.”

Y/N’s eyes widened, “You’re not all the way in yet?” 

Harry cringed, “M sorry, do you want to stop?”

Y/N immediately shook her head, pulling him closer to her, “Keep going,” She whispered despite the fact she was wondering if she even had enough room to fit him inside of her when she already felt so full. 

Harry eased into her a little quicker this time, kissing her soothingly and whispering sweet, encouraging nothings into her ear. He even began to rub his thumb against her clit in hopes it would ease some of her discomfort. 

Eventually, he found himself all the way, deep inside of her, her walls squeezing him tightly with his hips pressed against her own. “Are you okay?” He murmured. 

“Mhm,” Y/N could barely keep her eyes open from how blissful she felt. It was like nothing she had ever felt before, her entire body was just full up of him in ever sense of the word, “Can we stay like this for a moment,”

He kissed her shoulder and along her collarbones, “Whatever you want lovie, doing so well,”

Although he was trying to remain calm for her, Harry couldn’t believe he was buried deep inside of the girl he had loved for so long. He couldn’t feel any part of his body apart from where they were both connected, slotted together so perfectly like two pieces of a jigsaw puzzle. 

Her hair splayed out around her on the pillow, her lips were plushy and swollen, and her cheeks were red, the colour of two, crisp apples picked right off a tree. She was a dream, the love of his life. 

“Okay,” She murmured, “Y’ can move now.”

“Are you sure?” He would hate himself if he caused her any more pain but she nodded. 

A hiss escaped her lips as Harry began to slowly move out of her. He paused, “I just need to get used to it is all,” She assured. 

Harry nods, waiting for her to tell him to move again and when she does, he moves gently out of her before carefully thrusting back into her again. Now that she was getting used to the feeling of him inside of her, Y/N could feel the ridges and veins of his cock brush her walls, the tip of his cock pressing into her g-spot as he moved inside of her. 

“God Harry,” Y/N whines. 

“You’re m’ dream girl,” Harry slurs, biting his lip when he takes in how tight she is as she clenches around him. He grabs one of the hands still placed around his neck and kisses her wrist. He intertwines their fingers and settles their hands beside her head needing to feel her touch, “M’ best girl, I love y’ so much.” He whispers. 

“Love you,” She sighs, her eyes fluttering shut as he thrusts over and over again, each one more perfect than the last. 

“Y’ pussy is so perfect baby, made for each other, aren’t we? Hmm? Y’ my perfect, dream girl.” He groans, his head falling forward. 

Harry pulled his hand away from hers to smear his thumb over her clit. Y/N whimpers and writhes beneath him at the added pleasure, “Faster,” She whispers, “Please.”

Harry presses messy kisses along her jawline, “Don’t have to beg baby,” He hastens his rhythmic thrusts, their moans filling the air. 

“Can feel y’ clenching baby?” Harry seemed to already have an idea of when Y/N was about to cum from the way her body shivered beneath him, “Y’ gonna cum?” 

“Yes Harry,” She gasps, “Please Harry, it feels so good,” Her eyes pinched with tears at the overwhelming pleasure that filled every part of her. 

“Cum round my cock baby, make a mess hmm, need y’ to cum so I can cum too yeah?” He was almost pleading, words tumbling from his mouth as his thrusts began to speed up the closer he got to his release. 

Y/N could feel that same coil begin to tighten in her belly, she could see her vision start to blur and all her muscles tighten until it snapped and her back arched into him. He swooped one arm beneath her, pulling her into him and burying his face into her neck as he groaned into her, “Fuck,” He heaved, releasing into her. 

Y/N could barely get any words out as he collapsed on top of her. Her eyes were fixated on the ceiling, her lips parting with small puffs of air escaping her. She felt like she was floating, levitating off the bed and leaving her body behind, “Y’ okay baby,” Harry murmured, kissing her cheek, “Come down for me yeah?” He presses a hand to her forehead.

“Harry,” She whimpers, the first word to leave her lips after coming down from her high. She loops her arms around him and he scoops her up into his.

“You did such a good job, m’love,” He coos, moving her matted hair out of her forehead and admiring how beautiful she looked under the soft light of the lampshade. 

“Was so perfect,” She whispers, meeting his soft, green eyes and lifting a hand to brush his hair out of his face. 

“Yeah?” He smiled, holding her to him like she was something so fragile he was afraid he might break her.

“Mhm,” She hums, curling into him.  “I love you,” She kissed his chest and felt his heart thudding against her hand.

“I’ve loved you for a long time,” Harry replied. 

They lay tangled together amongst the sheets, waiting to float back down into their bodies but basking in every second they had in that moment where their hearts were the same. 

. . .

Y/N lay in bed that same night with Harry’s t-shirt now covering her bare form. Harry laughed as he re-entered the bedroom having just taken his second shower of the evening. 

She was watching a tennis match on the TV again. 

“You’re watching tennis?” He smiled, falling on the bed beside her, clad only in his boxers. “Is this your version of cigarettes after sex?”

Y/N grins, “What can I say? It’s my addiction.”

He reaches for her hand and mindlessly plays with her fingers but his ears prick when he hears his name from one of the commentators, “This is my game from last year,” Harry speaks, seeing his face appear on the screen. 

They watched as Harry walked onto the court exuding confidence as he shook hands with his opponent before the match started. He then pointed his racket at the middle of the stands where the audience was watching. 

“Why do you do that?” Y/N wonders, “Before every game, you’d always point your racket at the middle of the audience.” “Every game?” Harry poked her side. 

Y/N rolled her eyes, “Yeah, yeah, I’ve watched every single one of your games so what?”

Harry smiled, kissing her bare shoulder and answering, “Because you used to sit there.”

Y/N stilled turning her head to look at him, “What?”

“Whenever I would play at any of my tennis matches, I always looked out for you in the crowd and I’d always find you sitting right in the middle of the bleachers to watch. Eventually, it just became a thing, before I even set foot onto the court, I’d find you sitting in the exact same spot with the exact same expression on your face. I thought you were a good luck charm because whenever you weren’t sat there I’d lose. When I went to matches that you weren’t going to be watching, I just started pointing down the centre courts like my own superstition or something.” 

“Is that really the reason?” Y/N’s eyes glistened. 

Harry nodded, his eyes casting downward, “S embarrassing I know,” 

Y/N shook her head, cupping his face in her hands, “You’re so perfect,” She mumbled, the both of them falling back onto the mattress, getting lost in each other all over again. 

. . .

Y/N couldn’t focus on anything other than the crowd gathering in the stands as she sat in her plastic chair on the left-hand side of the umpire’s seat. Harry stood next to her, barely saying a word but offering her his presence to ease her nerves. 

Today was the final, the day Y/N had been working towards all these months and it didn’t feel real. The air was hot and humid, Y/N could already feel her skin sticking to the chair as the sun beat down on her. 

After waking up this morning, Y/N felt a blissful ache between her legs from her night with Harry. In some ways, she was thankful for it because for a moment it helped her forget what events lay ahead. Their night together had been magical, there was no other way she could describe it. She had no idea what could happen to a person after being so vulnerable with another but she felt lighter and even more in love with Harry than she had ever been before. 

Harry placed a hand on her shoulder, “We’ll be starting soon,” He murmured, squatting in front of her to meet her eyes. 

They had gone to the gym first thing in the morning to warm up for the day's big event. Harry had tried to distract her mind from the doubts that consumed her by playing bad music or challenging her strength on the bel bars but Y/N’s mind constantly drifted. 

“Right,” Y/N felt the pit in her stomach cave inwards, consuming all her insides and mushing them altogether. She felt a wave of nausea as Courtney walked onto the court and everyone applauded her. 

“Y/N,” Harry grasped her hand in her lap and squeezed, “You are going to win this. I wholeheartedly believe in you.”

Her shoulders drop, “If I don’t-”

“There’s no ‘if’,” Harry interrupted her before she could finish her negative train of thought, “You can and you will. Courtney may be a good tennis player but her ego outweighs all of that.” 

Y/N nods, “Okay,” She says. 

Harry stands, his hand cupping her left cheek to lift her head. He grins, “I love you.”

Y/N knows her heart is still intact at least from the way it flips and spins inside her chest at his words, “I love you too.”

A twinkle shines in his eyes until they drift over to the stands. His lips curve, “I think there are some other people here who love you too,” He motions his head towards the crowd and Y/N casts her gaze over in that direction. 

She feels her eyes prick with tears when she sees Sarah, Mitch and Adam in the front row of the stands all wearing t-shirts with her name and face plastered onto them. Sarah immediately spots her and waves, pointing to her shirt with excitement and pride for her best friend. 

“Did you bring them here?” Y/N asked, looking up at Harry.

He shrugged, “Sarah was insisting she came,”

Y/N squeezes his hand,  “Thank you,” She whispers, “For all of this. I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for you.” Harry holds her feeling her heart hammering against her chest as too many emotions consume them both. 

Unfortunately for her, Harry couldn’t stay at her side for the entire game but he was in the front row of the stands, directly in the middle exactly where she would sit whenever she would watch any of his games back home. 

When the umpire announced the game would begin, Y/N walked over to Courtney and shook her hand, “Good luck,” She said. 

Courtney scoffed, “Yeah, thanks.”

Y/N rolled her eyes.

As the match began, Y/N and Courtney faced off on the court. The crowd hushed, watching intently. Y/N felt jittery as she waited for Courtney's first serve.

Courtney tossed the ball and swung her racket, sending the ball flying towards Y/N who responded quickly, hitting the ball back with a loud smack.

The game was on. Y/N and Courtney traded shots back and forth, each trying to outplay the other. Y/N felt confident with each move she made, pushing away her earlier doubts until she noticed Courtney begin to counteract her moves when she took in how Y/N responded to each shot. 

With one hard-hitting strike, Courtney sent the ball straight past Y/N’s shoulder. 

Courtney had the first point. 

Y/N glanced over at Harry, seeing him watching with intense focus but his eyes were glued onto her as if she were the only person on the court. 

Ignoring Courtney’s smug expression, Y/N served the ball sending it straight into the air and hitting it back with all the force and aggression she could muster. The rally started up again, each stroke a testament to Y/N’s hard work over the past few months. Except this time, the winning prize was closer than it had ever been before. 

Y/N aimed the ball and landed it in the corner, Country struggling to reach it in time before it bounced off. 

“Fifteen all.” The umpire speaks. 

Her ears caught the cheers of her best friend in the crowd, Harry stood and clapped for her but she could still see how tense he was since the game had only just begun. 

This back-and-forth continued for the next few rounds. Every time Y/N would move, Courtney would match it. The scores were inching closer and closer to the end. Y/N watched when Courtney served the ball once more and aimed to respond, wrapping both her hands tightly around her racket and running towards the ball as it flung through the air but then she felt it. 

An intense pain travelled through her entire body coming from her shoulder and travelling down her arm. 

Everything seemed to happen in slow motion, the ball landing right by her as she dropped to her knees and her racket fell from her hands. Y/N let out a pained scream as she clutched her shoulder.

Medics ran onto the court, people gasping in their seats as they watched the events unfold. “Harry,” Y/N whimpered, “Harry,” She was saying his name like he was looking out for him. 

“Stop moving,” One of the medics urged when Y/N tried to stand up. 

“Harry,” Y/N sobbed, tears falling from her eyes. 

She wasn’t sure what hurt more - her shoulder or her heart breaking from the thought of all this being over. 

“Y/N,” Harry was out of breath as he approached her, pushing the security out of the way when they tried to stop him. He collapsed to his knees beside her, searching for the damage.

“Harry,” Y/N cried, the only word she could possibly seem to say in a moment like this.

Harry didn’t know what to do. He felt helpless as he waited for the medics to finish checking out her arm. He held her head to his chest, covering her ears as though it would be enough to shelter her from all that was going on around them. “It’s okay baby,” He whispered, trying to remain calm despite the panic he was feeling. 

He felt as though this was all some kind of nightmare he couldn’t seem to wake up from. Flashbacks from his own injury came to the forefront of his mind as he sat beside her, his shirt dampening as her tears seeped through. “You’re going to be fine,” He told her, repeatedly like he was trying to make himself believe it too. 

“It’s ruined, I failed.” Y/N sobbed. 

“Hey,” He held her face, trying to smooth some of the tears away, “You’re not a failure and you didn’t ruin anything. You played so well, the best I’ve ever seen.”

“It’s over,” She couldn’t take in anything he was saying and he knew that.

He knew what she was feeling - how the pain of losing everything outweighed the physical pain of an injury. “I love you Y/N, you’re going to be okay.” Was all he could say. 

“Y/N, it's a mild dislocation,” one of the medics explained.

“What?” Y/N tried not to scream as they moved her arm.

“We need to take you to the hospital to get it reset,” they advised, but Y/N shook her head immediately.

“No,” she whispered urgently, “Do it now.”

“Y/N—” Harry couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

Ignoring him, Y/N locked eyes with him and insisted, “Put it back in now, and I can finish the game.”

“Y/N, this is crazy,” Harry protested, shaking his head, “I won’t let you go out there in this much pain.”

“You’ve done it before,” she reminded him, “I watched you dislocate your shoulder and keep playing.”

“This is different,” Harry argued, remembering his own injury.

“If I don’t finish this, I would hate myself,” Y/N insisted earnestly, “Please.”

“Y/N, you’ll be at a disadvantage. You’d have to play the entire game with one hand.”

“I know, and I know how to do it,” Y/N reassured him, her eyes softening, “Because you taught me.”

Harry struggled with a gut feeling that this was a terrible idea. “Okay,” he relented, brushing her hair back gently, “Okay.”

“Are you sure?” the medic asked, clearly apprehensive.

“Just do it,” Y/N spoke through gritted teeth.

Harry held the back of her head as she buried her face in his neck, clinging onto his hands tightly. “I’m gonna be so mad at you for this later,” he whispered into her ear.

“That’s okay,” Y/N attempted a smile, but it quickly faded as the medics reset her shoulder. She wailed and squeezed Harry’s hand so tightly he thought it might fall off.

As the medics stepped back, Y/N raised her arm, feeling the pain subside but still present. “Are you okay?” Harry asked, concern etched on his face.

“No,” Y/N said, “But I have to do this.”

The crowd gasped when Y/N stood, picking up her racket with one hand and flipping it in her hand. Harry stood, glancing over at Courtney who was equally as shocked as everybody else. 

He stood in front of Y/N, “I’m so pissed at you right now,” He huffs, “But you better win this.”

Y/N shot him a sad smile, “I’ll try my best.”

He hastily kissed her lips before she could walk away to carry on playing, “That’s all I ask,” He murmured against her. He walks back to his place in the stands, Y/N watching as he goes. 

She pushed away the pain that was shooting down her arm and stood on her end of the court to finish the game. Courtney seemed unsure, scanning the way she stood and seeing her limp arm beside her. 

Y/N glanced at the academy trophy, feeling like it was now out of reach. 

The umpire announced the final round and the tension fell thick in the air. Y/N inhaled a shaky breath and got into position, watching as Courtney threw the ball into the air and hit it with her racket. 

Even though one of her arms wasn’t exactly working, her legs worked just fine as she ran for the ball, hitting it with her racket in her one hand. She gritted her teeth when the pain increased with her movements and met Coutrney’s rallies as best as she could. The match raged on, each swing of the racket echoing with the intensity of her cries as Y/N hit the ball. 

With each shot, Y/N poured her heart and soul into the game, her movements fueled by sheer determination. The crowd held its breath, watching in awe as she defied the odds with every stroke.

As the pain intensified, Y/N's desperation for the game to end grew. She couldn't understand why Courtney hadn't already sealed the win with one final move. However, Y/N was slowly wondering whether Courtney was using her pain as a way of satisfying her own ego. Y/N noticed whenever she winced or faltered in her movements, Courtney's smirk widened as if she was intentionally prolonging the game to relish in Y/N's discomfort.

A surge of anger ignited within Y/N at the realisation. Harry had been right about Courtney's ego, and now Y/N was determined to turn it against her. 

With gritted teeth and a steely determination in her eyes, Y/N squared her shoulders and focused solely on the game. She blocked out the pain, channeling every ounce of her strength and skill into each swing of her racket.

Courtney's smirk faltered as Y/N's resolve became palpable. The crowd sensed a shift in momentum, their cheers growing louder. With each stroke, Y/N felt herself gaining ground, her movements becoming more fluid and precise. 

And then, with one final, decisive shot, she sent the ball sailing past Courtney, landing squarely within the boundaries of the court.

Y/N fell to her knees, tears falling from her eyes as she realised she had won the entire game. 

Harry, Sarah, Mitch and Adam all leapt from the stands and ran towards her, embracing her carefully so to avoid her aching shoulder. 

Harry picked her up, holding her tightly and kissing her face, “You did it,” He grinned, “You won.”

“I did it,” Y/N sobbed in disbelief and then a smile took over her entire face as realisation hit her. 

She had won. 

. . . 

Y/N stood by her locker with Sarah, her arm wrapped in a sling whilst wearing her school uniform. Banners littered the walls of the hallway with ‘congratulations’ written in golden handwriting across them. 

“I can’t believe you won’t be coming with me to UCL next year,” Sarah huffed, “How am I meant to do anything without you?”

Y/N smiled at her best friend, “The tennis academy is a twenty minute walk away from UCL so it’s not like we’ll be away from each other.”

“I know but who am I going to roomie with next year?” Sarah sighed, “It won’t be the same. We’ve been roommates since we were five, I can’t trust anybody like I do with you. I mean, you even accept my white noise machine.”

Y/N hadn’t accepted it, she hated that thing, but Sarah was her best friend so she put up with it, “Well how about we get an apartment together?” 

Sarah almost gasps, “Seriously?”

Y/N nods, “I was thinking maybe me, you, Mitch and Harry could all move in together since we’re going to be living in the same city.”

Sarah’s entire face lights up at the idea, “Have you told Harry about it?”

“We spoke about it last night.” Last night when she stayed the night at his apartment and spent most of the night tangled up in one another. 

Sarah squealed, “I have to tell Mitch, he is going to love that idea. Don’t tell Harry this but the other day he started crying at the thought of having to leave him when the year ends.”

They walked out of the school building together, Sarah rambling about how she wanted to decorate their non-existing apartment as Y/N nodded intently to each of her ideas. 

Since the Academy Slam, not much had changed other than the fact that Y/N was now going to be spending the next two years at the Tennis Academy in London. The school newspaper had done another interview with her but this time she didn’t mind so much that Harry shared the front cover with her, pride on his face as he looked down at her. 

Even though she was achieving her dreams, nothing compared to the relationship she had with Harry. Everyday Y/N felt like she was floating whenever she woke up in Harry’s arms in his apartment or in her tiny dorm bed whenever Sarah wasn’t around. 

A smile covered her entire face when she saw Harry looking like every girl’s wet dream, leaning up against the bonnet of his audi as he waited for her. When he did, his own smile mirrored hers, “Hi baby,” He spoke, her heart pounding in her chest.

“Hi Harry,” Y/N stood toe to toe in front of him, clutching her books in one arm. 

He wrapped one arm around her waist beneath her blazer and pulled her into his chest, kissing her lips softly, his breath tasting like mint chewing gum, “How’s m’ girl?”

Y/N bit down on her lip to stop herself from smiling so much, “Good, I had a test today.”

“Did you smash it?” He smirked. 

“Yes but I probably could have done better if somebody hadn’t kept me up all last night.” She rolled her eyes. 

His lips went to her neck, “Don’t lie, you loved what I did,” He mumbled against her skin as he suckled on her neck, surely leaving a mark. 

“These late nights are getting out of hand,” Y/N made a feeble attempt to push him away. 

“Mmm,” He hummed, pulling away, “Need I remind you that you were the one to initiate it,” 

“I did not,” Y/N gaped. 

“Uh huh,” Harry smirked, “Whatever you want to believe.”

“No you were the one who-” 

Harry’s smirk deepened, “Who what?” He watched as Y/N’s cheeks turned pink and her mouth open and closed as she struggled to say something. 

“Shut up,” She huffed, walking to the passenger seat of his car,  “Take me home please,” 

“Whatever you want,” He beamed, loving the way she called his apartment her home. 

He drove away from the tennis courts, a spark of joy igniting within her every time they came into view. Harry held her hand over the console as they drove down the streets to his apartment, feeling more at peace than she had ever been before. Not only was she going to be going to her dream school but she’d also be with Harry and her best friend too. 

For a long time, Y/N believed that tennis was the only love of her life but now she had Harry and if she had to choose between the two, she would pick him every single time.

taglist: @storyschanging @lilbredsticc @esposa-do-harry @st-ev-ie @itschelseacisneros @hermionelove @tenaciousperfectionunknown  @hesvoid34 @writersarenotartists @ayeree1 @sassamanda77 @estaticheart

#harry styles fic rec #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles #harry styles blurb #harry styles x reader #harry styles imagines #harry styles fanfic #harry styles imagine #fic rec #harry styles one shot #harry styles fic #harry edward styles #one direction #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x you #tennisplayer!y/n #tennis rivals #enemies to lovers #harry styles au #tennisplayer!h #rivals to lovers

[barcaatthemoon]

my hero ii || lucy bronze x teen!reader ||

lucy begins to make it up to you.

lucy felt awful. it was obvious to everybody just how guilty lucy was feeling after blowing up at you. the team had all sided with you one way or another reminding lucy that she owed it to you to fix this. she knew that she had to, even if the team wasn't breathing down her neck to do something quickly.

you had genuinely been a very positive person in lucy's life. she had never really paid much direct attention to you, but she had noticed a lot of the things you had done to impress her. lucy wished that she could take her behavior back and coddle you, but she hadn't wanted to egg the girls on about your crush or accidentally send you the wrong message.

going too far in the other direction hadn't been the right move though. you should have been elated to have lucy's attention after trying so hard for so long in vain, but you didn't want it. you didn't want it in the gym when she asked you to spot her. you didn't want it at practice when she picked you for her team. you didn't even want it whenever you had gone down in a game against seville.

"oh my god, i'm so sorry," the player who had knocked into you apologized profusely. that didn't matter as lucy shoved her away, taking your hand in hers as she knelt down next to you.

"get away from me, bronze," you said through grit teeth. you had been on the verge of tears, but you held it in once you noticed lucy's presence near you. her words had rattled you to your core, and you wouldn't be able to put them past you for a long time. that was why, despite how nice lucy's comfort was, you tried your hardest to push yourself away from it.

"i know that i haven't earned it yet, but don't push me away. don't try to handle this yourself, it never works, trust me," lucy said. she sat herself right next to you and wrapped her arm around your shoulders. it was awkward, and for the first time in a while, lucy realized that you were physically a lot bigger than her. "i'm not going to ask you what hurts because enough people are about to do that. where did you get that bracelet?"

"vicky and i made them at alexia's when everybody else went to the club. ingrid and mapi have the ones that i made them," you told her. lucy smiled as her distraction seemed to be working. she kept talking to you while the medics moved you onto a stretcher. "ingrid is going to come on for you. i know that you don't want me back there, so ona and alexia are going with you."

"thanks bronze," you said as formally as you could. you were taken completely off, both ona and alexia following you back. the tears flowed freely in their company, but neither woman mentioned it.

"i noticed that you and lucy were talking for a while," ona said hopefully. you knew what she wanted to hear, but a quick shake of your head put those hopes to rest. "pequena, i am not telling you to do anything, but please consider giving lucy another chance."

"i can't ona. i look at her and all i can hear are those stupid words that she said to me. every move i make is affected by them," you told her. it was tough to admit that you were still struggling with overcoming the insults that lucy had hurled your way. she had been your hero once, and you couldn't imagine doing that to anybody who you knew looked up to you. "i don't want to talk about this anymore, not with you or anybody else."

"understood. ona, will you bring this to jona please," alexia said. she handed the envelope with the medical team's official diagnosis after your scans and tests. ona nodded and walked away, leaving you all alone with alexia.

"that meant you too," you grumbled as alexia moved to stand in front of you. she placed her hands on your shoulders, forcing you to sit still and face her.

"i won't make you talk about how lucy made you feel right now. i want to know how you feel about your injury. it's your first one, and you're really starting off strong," alexia said. there was a bit of a teasing lilt to her voice, one that helped you to relax. you would have been going crazy thinking about being out as long as you were supposed to be for the dislocated hip.

"i feel like i'm one wrong move away from the nursing home," you joked. alexia smiled as she pulled you in for a hug. somehow, she knew the joke was a deflection. unfortuantely for you, you couldn't stop the tears once they had begun. you let out a lot more than you meant to as you clung to alexia. "can i still sit in at practice?"

"of course you can, we'd all miss you too much otherwise."

…

lucy tweaks her knee at the very next practice. you can tell that she had done something to it before that by the look most of the other girls give her. the curiosity is killing you, so you hobble your way down to the physio rooms while lucy is stuck icing her knee.

"both of us know that you can take a hit like that and run it off. what did you do on the team's night out?" you carefully lowered yourself into a chair. it was close enough to maintain a conversation with lucy, but far away enough that you didn't feel trapped.

"i can't tell you that, no way," lucy said. you furrowed your eyebrows as you stared at her. it was something that you had learned from alexia, but unfortunately for you, despite your intimidating size, lucy just saw you as a little kid. "you're the team baby, ona and alexia would kill me. it's nothing personal."

"i am not a baby!" you raised your voice at lucy as your stare grew a little bit more intense.

"you're right, and i am sorry for saying that (y/n). i'm sorry for ignoring you because of a few stupid jokes, and i am so sorry for yelling at you like that. c-can i explain myself?" lucy asked you.

"if you tell me what you did first." lucy huffed as she adjusted herself on the medical bench.

"fine, i tweaked my knee in bed with ona. she saw something and wanted to try it. remember to always stretch before any physical activity, not that you'll be doing any of that any time soon," lucy said. you could hear the jovial tone of her warning, which was the only reason you didn't get onto her for babying you.

"gross, now you can explain yourself." you had let out a little gag, one that made both of you chuckle a bit.

"i got scared when we collided. it was my fault, and i didn't expect you to be so solid. i though that i had really hurt myself for a moment, and every bit of frustration came bubbling up. my knees, they've been getting worse and worse."

"yeah, i've noticed," you muttered under your breath. "is it going to happen with my hips since i've dislocated them so young?"

"if you rest and let them heal properly, it won't be nearly as bad. i've always been an impulsive shit. don't tell the team that i've told you this, but find yourself someone like keira. if it wasn't for her looking out for me, i would have had to retire by now," lucy said. she didn't like to admit her faults, but lucy had never been good at resting. she didn't want to see you in the kind of pain that she felt some days, it broke her heart to think that she had even caused you any pain in the first place.

"can i trust you to keep a secret?" you asked. lucy nodded, sitting forward for a bit of gossip. "there is a girl, we met at national camp for the u-17s. she, uh, she plays for athletico madrid's b-team."

"do you want me to get out of your hair so that you can call her?" lucy offered. you shook your head, already having texted her. "does anybody else know?"

"no, my parents have been taking me to see her," you said shyly. you had wanted to tell many of the girls on the team, but for some reason, you went straight to lucy. you definitely weren't ready to completely forgive her, but you did notice a change in the way that she was treating you.

…

your first game back saw you put in a position that you'd never tried before, right back. lucy was benched after a knee surgery, and at first, you had been terrified about taking her spot. you had nearly begged someone else to ask for it instead, but jona and the rest of the team believed that it was perfect for you.

"this game will be a bit rough, vale?" alexia was even more nervous for your comeback than you were. el classico matches were rough, and you were fresh off of a pretty bad injury. still, you were prepared for this. those girls weren't going to know what hit them as they came your way.

"trust me, they're more likely to hurt themselves than her," lucy said as she put her arm around your shoulders. you were about to send her a glare when you stopped yourself. the two of you had gotten a lot closer working on your recoveries together. lucy had learned the things that you had wanted from her in the first place. she was happy to give praise where it was deserved.

"yeah ale, i've been hitting the gym," you said with a dramatic flex of your arms. alexia smacked the back of your head, but left you alone. "guess i should get out there."

"yeah, you go out there and show that madrid crowd the future best rightback in the world," lucy said. she ruffled your hair a little and shoved you away.

you left your heart and soul out there on the pitch. madrid didn't have a lot of opportunities, especially ocne they realized that they couldn't just barrel through the new player. you had a lot of help from your backline, and a very protective alexia who nearly got herself thrown out of the game. all in all, you were more than happy with your debut in your new position, even if a part of you wished that lucy had been next to you on the field.

"come on, you've got an interview." claudia tugged you away excitedly. you stumbled a little as you were led in front of a camera. rapid questions were shot at you about the game, and you struggled to keep up. your brain was exhausted, but you kept going because that was what you had to do.

"you said once that you grew up a soccer fan. who was your biggest influence?" you glanced into the stands as the interviewer asked their question. your eyes met lucy's as she talked with some of the real madrid b team girls, obviously trying to scope out your girlfriend. you chuckled to yourself at the knowledge that she'd come back without her answer. those girls were going to keep your secret no matter what.

"lucy bronze. my mother was a good english woman and took me to the lioness games when she could. i have been lucky enough to practice with my hero, and i hope that we can play together soon. things were not always easy, but i am the best version of myself because of her help." you felt good about your answer, not thinking about how many of your teammates would see it. you didn't have to think about it much until you were arriving back in barcelona after the game.

your parents had agreed on a sleepover at patri and pina's with bruna, jana, and vicky. a few of the older girls would be stopping by to hang out a little, but most likely not staying over. you were waiting for your overnight bag to be unloaded when you felt someone hug you from behind tightly.

"what the hell?" you questioned as you nearly fell over.

"you've got a way with making me feel like a real shithead. i am so sorry for ignoring you and being mean. i swear i'll never do it again, never ever," lucy promised you. you were about to make fun of her when you noticed the genuine tears in her eyes. "i am so proud of you, (y/n)."

"thank you lucy, it means a lot." you turned around in lucy's arms for a better hug. the moment was nice while it lasted, but then bruna was dragging you away while patri carried your bag for you. things felt a little chaotic with everybody talking over each other to finalize the plans, but all you cared about was getting to the sleepover to unwind a little bit.

#woso fanfics #woso x reader #woso imagine #lucy bronze imagine #lucy bronze x reader #teen reader #platonic fic