#burst into tears the minute her car pulled away | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

forever-rogue · 4 months

Note

for holiday prompts maybe “Get closer to the fire, you’re shivering.” with stevie 🥹 maybe r gets stranded in the road and walks towards Steve’s house cause it’s closest and Steve is concerned about her getting sick 😭💖 best friends to lovers kinda vibe? Or whatever vibe you’d like!

AN | Stop but this is so sweet and I got carried away but 🥺

Warnings | Mild Language

Pairing | Steve x Fem!Reader

Word Count | 2.7k

Masterlist | Steve, Main

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You gripped the wheel tightly as you heard the car rattle before it came to a shaky stop.

“No,” you groaned, tears already welling up in your eyes as you smacked the steering wheel. That caused your hand to throb in pain, which pushed you over the edge and you couldn’t help but cry. It had already been a bad day - this just made it a million times worse, “fuck, fuck, fuck!”

You had no clue about anything related to cars besides being able to get the engine oil. You doubted that little bit of knowledge was going to come in handy. At least you’d been able to get off the road while you waited for…something. Steve’s house was still a couple of miles away and you hadn’t noticed a payphone anywhere along the way. On top of all that, it had started to snow, softly but albeit - it was snowing. This was…not an ideal situation by any means.

After allowing yourself to cry for a few minutes, you got out of the car and opened the hood, looking inside to find…absolutely nothing that you understood. Your options were not necessarily great or endless. You could wait for someone to drive by and maybe stop to help, or you could walk to Steve’s house, the place you’d been on your way to when disaster struck. You figured that walking to Steve’s house was probably the best idea; maybe someone would stop while you were on your way.

“I’m sorry,” you yelled to the sky, unsure of who or what was your intended recipient, “I’m sorry for whatever I did that caused this to happen!”

With a huff you grabbed your stuff out of the car and started walking. The best thing, if there was a best thing to this situation, was that at least it wasn’t dark yet. If you walked fast, you’d be able to make it to Steve’s house just before the sun set.

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Steve paced around the living room as he tried to figure out where on earth you could have been. You’d called well over an hour ago saying that you would be there shortly. He knew that it was about a fifteen minute drive from your office to his house. You should have been there by now. Something was wrong and he grew increasingly worried.

And then came a gentle, timid knock on his door. He stopped dead in his tracks, goosebumps bursting up all over his skin as he looked to the door as though he’d be able to see right through it. But he knew that knock, that gentle tap that was always in a small pattern that you’d made up years ago. Steve wasn’t even sure why you bothered knocking anymore; his place was practically yours by this point.

He almost ran to the door and threw it open without hesitation. When he saw that it was you, he visibly relaxed - until he really looked you over.

“Sorry I’m late,” your teeth were chattering as you offered him a small, shy smile.

“Honey,” he tutted softly as he reached for your hand, his long, slender fingers wrapping around your wrist as he pulled you into the warmth. You opened and closed your mouth a few times, trying to figure out how to tell him what happened, without worrying him too much.

“‘m okay, Stevie,” you promised meekly, despite the fact that you were freezing, your feet hurt, and you still had to figure out what to do with your car, “just…ran into a bit of a problem.”

“Take off your jacket and get closer to the fire,” he whispered gently; all you could do was nod as he helped you to take off your jacket. You were only wearing a thin sweater underneath, not having expected on making a cold, wintery trek, “c’mon, you’re shivering.”

He tossed a big, cushy pillow onto the floor along with your favorite blanket. You obliged him without hesitation, your heart melting at his gentle and tender nature. He held up a finger before quickly running down the hall to his bedroom; you could hear him rummaging through his drawers for a few moments before coming back and holding one of his sweaters out to you. It just so happened to be your favorite - warm and thick and yellow. You wondered if he knew that it was your favorite. He had to.

“Are you-”

“Positive,” he whispered softly as you took the sweater and slipped it on without hesitation. No matter how many times it was washed, it always smelled like him, which was something you adored, “better?”

“Already so much better,” you agreed, bundling up in the blanket as you looked at him and sighed softly, “thank you so much.”

“What happened?” he plopped down next to you, leaving just enough space between your bodies that left you wanting more. He reached over and put his hand on your knee, giving it a gentle squeeze, “I was expecting you a long time ago.”

“I ran into a spot of trouble,” you admitted sheepishly as he raised an eye at you.

“Which was…”

“My car broke down-”

“What?!”

“My car broke down,” you whispered, wincing at the tone in his voice. You knew he wasn't mad at you, but you hated when he got upset, “its nothing really.”

“It's not - no. It's not nothing,” he took your face in his hands, his touch nothing but reverent, as he looked you over, “something could have…fuck. Where? What happened?”

“A few miles down the road,” you pointed over your shoulder as if that Would answer all of his questions, “near the bend.”

“You walked all that way?” He hung his head with a heavy sigh, “that's like two miles.”

Before you could say anything in response, Steve threw his arms around and pulled you in for a tight hug. It caught you off guard at first, having not expected the sudden hug from him but it took you only a moment to respond. You snaked your arms around his waist and let yourself melt into him. He was so warm and smelled delicious and familiar; his hugs were probably one of your favorite things in the entire world.

“It’s okay - I’m okay,” you burrowed your face into his glorious neck, breathing in the smell of his soft skin. He slowly let go of you; you immediately missed the feeling of him, “I didn’t know what else to do. It’s not like I could just call you for help and I wasn’t sure when anyone else would go by. So…that’s why I just walked over.”

“Yeah, no, I understand,” he ran a hand through his glorious hair, trying to suppress all the horrible thoughts of what could have happened. He was just glad you were alive and well and standing right in front of him, “I…I’m just glad that you’re here.”

“Me too,” you promised with a soft smile, “thanks for always being there for me.”

“I wish I could have done more,” he looked into the merrily crackling fire, unsure of whether or not he should look at you. He was afraid that if he looked too long he might just spill his entire guts out to you, “I’ll call and have your car towed to the shop. Eddie’s working tomorrow so I’m sure he’ll be able to take a look at it.”

“You don’t have to-”

“I want to,” he insisted, his tone letting you know that there was no room for objection. He touched your cheek, brushing his thumb along your soft skin before standing up and heading to the kitchen, “let me just make a few quick calls and get it sorted, yeah?”

“Thank you, Stevie,” you watched him go with soft eyes, feeling every conceivable emotion fluttering around in your belly. He never failed to make you feel so cared for and loved. You settled in and leaned closer to the fire, feeling overly tired suddenly. You were sure the cold and the long trek did that to you. You listened to him on the phone, his voice distant and far as you closed your eyes.

By the time that he came back to the living room you were already curled up in a small ball, looking toasty as ever as you snored softly. Steve couldn’t help the gentle sigh that escaped his lips; this was a view that he loved and adored and he wished he could bottle that feeling up and keep it with him forever. He grabbed a pillow off the couch and tucked it under your head as delicately as he could in order to keep you from waking up.

He considered laying down and curling up next to you, but he also didn’t want to make things weird in case you woke up suddenly. Instead he busied himself around the house to get things ready for dinner and to keep his mind off you.

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When you woke up, you were immediately enveloped by a warm, delicious smell. You clambered to your feet, keeping the warm blanket around you as you padded towards the kitchen. You stopped in your tracks when you found Steve in the kitchen; he was softly singing along to the radio as he moved around cooking whatever it was that was so delicious.

“Hi,” you whispered softly in order to keep from startling him too much. He turned around at the sound of your voice, a smile growing on his own face as he took in your sleepy form, “what’cha doing, Stevie?”

“Just finishing up dinner,” he came over to you and brushed your wild hair out of your face, “I made your favorites. Hope that’s okay.”

“I…” you looked at him with wide, soft eyes unable to convey just how much this meant to you. This and everything else he did; he was almost so good to everyone but especially you. You hesitated for a moment before leaning slightly, watching as he did the same, “I think I’m in love with you, Steve Harrington.”

“Umm…” he mouth dropped open and closed his mouth a few times, a pretty blush breaking out all over his face, “does that mean it’s okay?”

You laughed, a loud and warm sparkly sound that warmed his heart and caused him to realize the gravitas of the situation. You nodded softly before leaning in even closer so there was barely any room remaining between the two of you, “yes. It’s more than okay. Thank you.”

He gnawed on the inside of his cheek for a moment before cupping your cheek with his large, soft hand. Steve hesitated before closing the rest of the remaining gap and gently pressing his lips to yours. It was soft and barely there but it was everything; you had waited for this so long, always dreaming of this moment. And now it was here, hesitant and gentle but perfect.

Steve pulled back and looked at you with curiosity to make sure he hadn’t broken or crossed any boundaries. When he found you practically beaming at him, he couldn’t stop himself from leaning back in and kissing you again, this time with more fervor and confidence. The blanket dropped from your shoulders as you wrapped your arms around his neck and let yourself melt into his warm body. His large hands settled on your waist, and you were all consumed with the love you had for this man.

You didn’t want to break apart from him, only doing so when both of you suddenly smelled something burning. You both turned to look at the stove and found whatever it was that Steve had been cooking was nothing but a lovely shade of…black.

You exchanged surprised looks before dissolving into a fit of giggles. He reluctantly untangled his limbs from yours before hastily turning off the stove. He picked up the pot and frowned as he stuck it into the sink, “umm, I’m really sorry but I’m pretty sure I just ruined our dinner.”

You reached over and gave his shoulder a reassuring squeeze, “you didn’t ruin anything, Stevie. Trust me.”

“But…the food.”

“It’s okay,” you hated that he went through all this trouble for nothing at this point, “we’ll order pizza or Chinese or something. Baby, it’s cold outside and all I want to do is stay here with you.”

“That was terrible,” but there was a giant smile on his face and a pretty blush over his cheeks, “I wanna stay here with you too.”

“Can we just-” but you were quickly cut off by him pressing his lips to yours, stealing a few soft kisses before he pressed his forehead against yours. It was like he had been reading your mind. You looked at him sheepishly, “do that some more?”

“Yeah,” he rested his hand on the small of your back as you looked up at him sweetly, “I love you.”

“I kind of figured that much when you didn’t totally just run away when I told you,” you whispered as you brushed your fingers along his jaw, “thanks for the reassurance though. I wasn’t sure I’d ever manage to actually tell you.”

“Why did you?” he asked, “not that I’m not glad you did - I’m really glad but…yeah.”

“I dunno,” you admitted, “I guess I just realized, again, how much I love you and everything about you and all that you do and I just couldn’t not say anything. Knowing you kiss like that I’m a little sorry I didn’t say anything sooner.”

“Just think, you could have been kissing me for a long time already,” he teased gently as you groaned dramatically before he indulged you and pulled in for more kisses. You melted into him and he slowly led you to the couch before stumbling backwards and falling down with you on top of him. He wrapped his arms around your waist as you laid on his warm body, resting your head on his chest; you could hear the slow and steady beat of his heart.

And then you had a thought and lifted your head, “you hadn’t been on any dates in a long time.”

“I know.”

“Why…”

“Didn’t feel right,” he shrugged it off as though it was no big deal, “it wasn’t you. So…I didn’t want it anymore.”

“That’s…” you swallowed thickly, blinking back the tears that were already prickling at the back of your eyes, “that’s…that’s the most romantic thing anyone has ever said to me.”

“Yeah,” he tenderly brushed away the tear that had rolled down your cheek, “but it’s true. I haven’t seen you dating much either.”

“None of them were you,” you leaned into his warm, soft touch. He laughed softly, as you took his hand and laced your fingers through his, “I love you, Steve Harrington. And now that it’s out there, you’re gonna hear it all the time.”

“I hope some,” he sighed contentedly, “so are you, just so you know.”

“Good,” you whispered, “I love you.”

“I love you too, angel.”

#steve harrington #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington one shot #joe keery #st

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xervn · 3 months

Text

𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐧 🔧

oneshot | mechanic ellie x reader

ao3 link

summary: your car breaks down in the middle of nowhere, but thankfully ellie shows up and offers her help

18+ MDNI | 6.3k words | tags; modern au, porn w/ plot (like 70% is plot tbh), kissing, vaginal fingering, pining from reader? arguably, no use of y/n, not proofread

my first post on tumblr EVER and my first time seriously writing smut, so pls be kind!

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It’s midday and you’ve been driving down an isolated road in fuck-knows-where with the hopes you’ll be able to find a gas station in at least 15 minutes. You’ve been driving down this straight road for what felt like ages now, your only surroundings being orange-colored sand and leafless plants.

Never in your life has driving made you more anxious, it was like you were in charge of safely disarming a bomb. You gripped the wheel and glanced at the gas gauge occasionally, each look wearing your hope thinner. You were supposed to fill your tank before leaving, but it wasn’t in your plans to get lost in the first place. You knew your incompetence would catch up to you eventually, but you didn’t think it’d be now.

Your teeth grit against each other as you raced against time. You desperately repeated affirmations, hoping they would help you along the way. Maybe if you ignored the fact you could be stranded, you’ll get to your destination faster.

My gas is NOT running out…

I will NOT have a mental breakdown…

I AM responsible…

Not even a good moment later, the engine starts sputtering as if you called it upon yourself. You desperately tapped at the fuel gauge, resulting in the amount dropping drastically. To your surprise, it’s been showing the wrong amount the entire time. You drove towards the side of the road so you could let the tank run out while you spit out a colorful array of obscenities. There was no doubt in your mind that this might be the worst day of your life.

You slammed at the dashboard of your piece of shit, beat up, 2012 Toyota Tacoma with unprecedented rage, dropping your head onto the steering wheel in defeat. The depleting noises the engine made as it slowly died only added to how you were feeling. Your face heated up and your eyes brimmed with tears; not because you were sad, but because you were so damn pissed.

“Fuck my life...” You sobbed out, forehead pressing harder into the wheel.

The sudden blaring sound that came from the car’s diaphragm jolted you up and caused you to yelp out. Everything’s silent for a while— you included— like a city before a tsunami attacks or the quiet before a dam bursts. In proper fashion, you unleashed a waterfall of tears; slowly, but surely, turning into a wallowing mess. Tears, snot, and saliva everywhere all because you made an irresponsible decision and drove a terrible car to make irresponsible decisions in.

Out of frustration, you honked some more, beating at the wheel’s center like there’s a solution inside of it. Certainly, this wasn’t the best way to handle your situation, but it was the only thing you had the energy to do. Amidst all the beeping and profanities, you failed to notice a car pulling up beside you. They honked their horn in unison with yours and the harmony caused you to frantically look around for the source.

You turned to your left and your gaze was met with a green set of eyes. It only took a second longer for you to realize who or what was looking at you. A woman with short auburn hair and a freckled face was shooting you a concerned glare.

All that was running through your head now was that a woman was looking at you and the manic episode you were having would undoubtedly scare off any future prospects. As your stomach turned into knots of shame, you muttered a low swear and quickly wiped away the remaining tears on your face.

You took a deep breath and calmly rolled down your window, which took an agonizingly slow amount of time. You occasionally spared the woman a few awkward glances with an equally awkward grin. Your humiliation built up along with the comically loud sound coming from the rolling window. After what felt like an eternity later, the window finally rolled down and you looked up to meet the woman’s gaze again, further examining her features.

Right there and then, you swore your heart fell out of your ass. You never thought you’d find yourself saying something so cliche, but the lady was a sight for your teary sore eyes. She was wearing a simple gray tank top, which showcased her spectacularly shaped arms and tattooed forearm.

The sight of her alone made you question your sanity. Maybe you were imagining her to make you feel better? You wouldn’t be surprised if you did.

As you looked up at her even more attractive face, you noticed her scarred brow was perked up, which could only mean she noticed you staring, and based on the subtle curl at the corner of her lips; she found it amusing too.

Your face instantly warmed up. You needed to defend your ogling quickly, but before you could manage out a single word, the beauty beat you to it.

“Are you okay?” The woman questioned, the slight lilt at the end of it only deepened your embarrassment. It physically pained you to imagine how much of your breakdown she saw.

“I’m fine, I was just...” You couldn’t finish your sentence, so you let out a sheepish laugh to fill in the space.

“You sure? It looks like you’re having some trouble.” The woman gestures her head at your car as she speaks, not breaking a second of eye contact.

You chewed on your lip, nervously shifting your stare before admitting, “Uh, yeah. I ran out of gas...”

“Looks like it slightly inconvenienced you.”

A subconscious scoff fell from your mouth as you lazily gestured around you. “Slightly?”

“Just a guess. I could hear the honking a mile away.”

“Yeah, well, that’s the only thing that works on this junk.”

The woman let out an amused hum, casually glancing at the road behind her before turning to you again. “Did you already call for help?”

“Nope...” You responded, your eyes still wandering off.

The woman idly wet her lips in thought before driving up the road. For a moment, you thought she rudely left you stranded on the side of the road, but after carefully looking, you noticed she was driving a tow truck.

Your previous thought that she might be a figment of your imagination immediately came back, because what the hell? A real-life angel came to save you at your lowest. She parked in front of your car and stepped out of the vehicle and you peered out the window of yours, shamelessly following her movements in awe.

She was slim, lean, and held an average height. The jeans she was wearing fit her so nicely, you actually had to pinch yourself to stop looking.

You reached for your rearview mirror and pointed it towards yourself, making sure most of your makeup was intact. Much to your dismay, your eyeliner was smudged, and your lip gloss was wiped away. So, not only did she watch you wail like a baby, you looked like one too. You glimpsed back at the woman, making sure she wouldn’t catch you in the act of dolling up for her.

You stepped out of the car after quickly fixing your makeup, a bit shy to face the woman now. You weren’t particularly dressed like you were ready to do any flirting today, sporting a white graphic crop tee and distressed blue jean shorts. Nonetheless, you fidgeted with your clothes before approaching her.

She double glanced at you as she moved stuff off the truck’s ramp, eventually blurting out, “I don’t have any gas in my truck, and uh–“ She abruptly stopped her action to look at you as she spoke, “– there’s no gas station out here for a while, but I have a garage not too far away.”

“You’ll help me? I mean, is it okay? I don’t wanna shit on your plans.” You asked, but mostly out of decency. You needed the help after all. Plus, your only other option was to wait for another mechanic instead of just going with this extremely hot one.

She grinned and nodded a few times reassuringly. You found that every little motion she did melted you a bit. Just the tease of a smile from her could turn you into pudding. “It’s no problem, I was headed there anyway. It’s not every day I get to rescue a damsel in distress.”

You bit down a bashful grin as you muttered a thanks and she told you to wait in the passenger seat. When you walked off, you swore you could feel her eyes burning into you. You couldn’t tell if it was a phantom feeling or if she was actually staring you down, but every inch of you hoped for the latter.

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You took a look around your surroundings. The car smelled like diesel and marijuana, but you weren’t expecting much from a tow truck. There was a cute 3D dinosaur pendent hanging off the rear-view mirror and the car had small handmade stickers across the dashboard.

Before you could look any further, the woman stepped into the driver’s seat and started the car. She just hooked your car up to hers, so she had to take a look behind to make sure it was in place, setting her tattooed arm on your headrest as she did so. Your heart skipped at the closeness and all you could do was stare at her like a dork.

It was slightly perverse how much you enjoyed staring at her face. You’ve seen beauty before, but she was a discovery. Another plus was that she smelt really good. She didn’t wear a sweet or flowery perfume. She wore something earthier, and it blended in perfectly with that slight hint of gasoline. The best way to describe it is that she smelt like a pinewood air freshener in a new car but fucking hot.

The woman caught you off guard with a glance, her own face a bit shocked to find you looking at her. You quickly averted your gaze and eyed the road up instead, pursing your lips together as if nothing happened, attempting to ignore the shame away.

You were obviously embarrassed, and that usual mortified feeling washed over your body. She didn’t laugh or anything, but as she retrieved her arm and put her hand on the wheel, you nervously glimpsed at her face and saw a small, smug smile.

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The drive was painfully quiet. All you could hear was muffled crunchy sounds of the road and the humming of the truck’s engine. You sat there, fiddling with your shorts as you slowly zoned out.

“Where are you headed?” The woman blurted out, causing you to abruptly turn her way. She was still focused on the road ahead, so you took the time to peer at her side profile, in which you deemed needed to be framed and hung up in an art gallery.

“I’m going to see my family upstate for the holidays.”

“How long have you been driving then?”

“About... three hours.”

“Three hours and you didn’t think to stop for gas?” She huffed out a melodic laugh and peeked at you. You’d let her tease you as much as she wanted as long as you got to hear that laugh again.

“I thought I had enough! My stupid tank was reading wrong.” You responded, puffing your cheeks out at the thought.

“I’ll fix that too then.”

“That’d be appreciated.”

“Why’re you driving that old thing anyways?”

You shrugged as you spoke out, “Well, I’m a college student and it’s better than nothing.”

“Really? What’s your major?” She looked at you for a moment with genuine curiosity. It didn’t feel like she was just looking for small talk.

Her interest was comforting, but you were slightly wary to say it. Your major didn’t necessarily scream out sexy like psychology or law would. You hesitated before slowly speaking out. “… Astrophysics.”

You knew the chances of her having any idea what your nerdy major was about was incredibly low. You bit your lip as you waited for the awkward ‘oh’ or ‘cool’ that usually comes after.

“Astrophysics? That’s actually fuckin’ sick.”

Your brows rose in shock, never expecting anyone to respond that way. “Yeah, I like space stuff... I guess...”

You rubbed your forehead at your dull awkwardness and the woman let out another satisfying laugh at your lack of explanation. “That’s one reason to get into it. I like space stuff too. I think constellations are pretty neat.”

You smiled to yourself at her sincerity, and consequently, the thought of stars perked you up in an instance. “Me too! I had the perfect view of Aquila from my backyard growing up.”

“I’m jealous. I struggle connecting them myself, so I just go to that one space museum in the city to look at ‘em. But, fuck, if I could see– I know this is basic, but– if I could see Ursa Major with my own eyes?”

“You haven’t? The Big Dipper is one of the easiest to find.”

She chuckled before she spoke. “You’ll need to help me find it then.”

Help her find it? Lay underneath the stars and connect them with her? It was a very nice thought in your head, but you’re 100% sure she said it without thinking. You expected the previous silence to continue after that until she broke it again.

She was clearly embarrassed by herself, twisting her lips before finally saying something. “My name’s Ellie, by the way.”

You sheepishly responded with your name and Ellie subtly smiled as she continued to drive down the road.

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You guys pulled up to the driveway of the mechanic garage. There was a large decal with ‘MILLER AND CO’ over a wrench painted on the metal doors. The area was just as deserted as the road you guys drove on, minus the few farms around now.

“Is this yours?” You asked.

“Nah, it’s my dad’s. I try to enjoy it like it’s mine though.”

“Has this always been what you’ve wanted to do?” You wondered out loud, only to feel regretful after. You didn’t know her, and you were already asking personal questions. The slim chance she’s suddenly put off by you made you wanna curl into a ball and cry.

“I mean, I always wanted to be an astronaut growing up, but that was never in the cards for me. Things changed when my dad adopted me, I was practically glued to him. I did everything he did.” Ellie freely answered and it dropped your worries instantly. You found her openness incredibly attractive. At that moment, you could feel yourself yearning to learn more about her. “I still love everything about space though, don’t get me wrong.”

“And dinosaur stuff too?” You cheekily queried as you pointed at the rearview chain.

Ellie glanced at the cutesy decor and chuckled. “And dinosaur stuff too.”

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After getting the cars into the garage, Ellie steps out of the car and walks over to your side. You watched curiously as she strolled to your door and popped it open for you.

You stared and she stared back expectantly, gesturing for you to hop out. You smiled slightly at that, and Ellie smiled back. God, you could watch her smile for days on end.

“You can sit anywhere, it shouldn’t take too long.” Ellie said as you stepped out, closing the door behind you.

You turned to face her before continuing the conversation. “Thanks again. Also, err... how much is it gonna run me?” Your teeth clenched a little as you asked. It wasn’t the first thing that you wanted to say, but you weren’t made out of money. I mean, look at what you were driving.

Ellie snorted at your expression and shook her head. “Don’t worry about it.”

In response, you gave a doubtful look. There was no way she was this kind and wanted nothing in return.

Leaning against the truck door, Ellie playfully rolled her eyes. “I’m serious. This is my good deed for the month.”

“Nothing? Nothing at all?” You quizzed, your brow perking curiously.

“Nothing at all. But if you insist…” She went on, looking off as if she was really changing her mind.

“No! No... Thank you.” You blurted.

You cursed yourself at how vulnerably broke you were being, and Ellie smiled wider than she had before. Once you caught onto that smile, your eyes latched on. It was only natural to stare at her teeth, her lips, wondering how they’d feel on yours; if she’d smile between her kisses.

You quickly snapped out of it before you spiraled any further, but clearly not fast enough.

“You have a staring problem, y’know?” Ellie stated, slightly tilting her head as she let her eyes travel over your body. A stare for a stare if you would.

“I wouldn’t say it’s a staring problem.”

“If it’s not staring, what is it?” She asked with her eyes locked onto yours.

“Admiring?”

Ellie was slightly surprised at your sudden boldness, her smile faltered for a millisecond before quickly returning.

“Hm, I could say the same.”

She basically confirmed she was also checking you out. Meaning, you had a chance. You looked away as you blushed fiercely, and in the corner of your eye you could see Ellie doing the same.

You don’t know when it started, but the vibe between you two became pleasantly tense. Any previous worries and doubts that Ellie might not like you vanished. You clearly had a chance with her, and you planned to see how far your luck would go. She turned away to clear her throat and pushed off the truck. You decided to move away yourself, finding a nice chair to settle yourself on.

The spot you sat at put Ellie in your direct line of sight. You should probably call your family and tell them you’d be running late, but you were comfortable where you were. Ellie was incredibly captivating; you wouldn’t mind trailing her with your eyes as she did simple tasks like filling up gas for the rest of your life. She was like a really good fucking movie.

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Thirty minutes into your imaginary film, you thought the picture quality was getting better, but you discerned it was just Ellie getting closer.

She rubbed her oiled hands off her shirt as she approached you. “Can you help me with something? I j–“

You sprang up to your feet before she could finish speaking. You didn’t need to hear what she had to say next. It wouldn’t hurt for her to see how interested you were.

Ellie went wide-eyed at your eagerness, shaking her head lightly.

“You could’ve let me finish talking first.” She said with a subtle, taunting smile.

“I didn’t need to. I’m already getting serviced for free, so I’ll gladly do it.”

“Getting serviced, huh?”

You smiled coyly at Ellie as you recognized the implications of her childish repetition before correcting yourself. “I’m already getting helped.”

Ellie retained her smile as she turned back to the car, gesturing for you to follow her with one of her stained hands. You followed her over to the driver’s side of your truck where she knelt down and shifted an arrangement of tools on the cement floor.

“I need to fix the wiring underneath your car to fix the fuel gauge. If you could hand the tools to me when I ask for ‘em, that’d be great. Can you do that for me?” Ellie questioned in a honeyed voice. She looked up at you, waiting for your answer; a cruel grin barely tugging at the corner of her lips.

You only nodded as her stare left you too flustered to speak. You knew the intentions from her tone of voice alone and, boy, did it work. She was teasing you again, but even more obvious than the last.

She fixed a set of tools on a white cloth, setting the toolbox open and nearby as well. You weren’t stupid, you can tell what almost all the tools were. Driving a car you do; it was only a matter of time before you had to do temporary repairs yourself. However, you realized the opportunity you had laid out in front of you, and you were most definitely gonna take it.

Ellie spoke as she retrieved a tool from the box, glancing at you to make sure you were following. Of course, you made sure to pay attention fully.

Her gorgeous green eyes laid upon your dreamy lash-filled gaze up and you could read the subtle fluster off her face. “This is a ratchet. I.. I’m sure you know that already though.” Whatever you were doing was working and Ellie’s little stammer was evidence.

You looked at the tool and pushed out your full, bottom lip, slightly shaking your head. “Nope. I do now though. What’s next?” You immediately resumed your gaze at Ellie before you could even finish speaking.

She grinned and it was clear she didn’t believe you, but the look in her eyes had a mischievous glint in them; so you knew it was definitely safe to continue.

“Alright, princess. This? —“ She paused to pick up another tool mid-sentence, and the break gave you just enough time to process the panty-soaking pet name. “— Is a screwdriver. The pointy end screws things in.”

You didn’t bother to look at the tool this time, making sure every inch of your face was telling her you wanted her to screw you in.

“Uh-huh.” You nod with your eyes glued on Ellie’s.

Ellie laughed lightly with a new tone to it. You couldn’t describe it if asked, but you could describe how it made you feel. It took everything for you not to clench your legs together to relieve your now growing pressure.

“Are you keepin’ up with me?” She said, teasingly.

You grazed your teeth along your bottom lip, and you hummed in response. Ellie licked hers like an effect from your cause before she continued to school you on the tools she needed.

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You two engaged in the flirty lesson until it eventually ended, and she left to fetch a garage creeper from a tool station nearby.

Ellie set it at the side of the truck, where the driver would be, and sat down and laid back on it. You were sitting on the floor by the tools now, so you could easily watch her work. She rolled backwards and underneath the car, adjusting herself on the trolley by sending her hips forward so sexily you wondered if she did it on purpose. In that motion her top rode up a bit and since you were so close, you could ogle up her midriff freely.

“Screwdriver. Enjoying the view?” Ellie suddenly quizzed.

Without a second thought, you handed her the screwdriver only taking a moment longer to register what she said after.

By now, you felt less embarrassed by Ellie catching you staring since she obviously enjoyed it. “The view? The view is nice.”

“Just nice?”

“The view is really nice. Amazing, even. It’s a nice area, I might even move here.”

Ellie huffed out the faintest chuckle. “Are we talking about the same thing?”

“We are, don’t worry.”

“Feel free to admire all you want then.” You could tell she was smiling as she said that despite barely being able to see her face.

The light banter you guys shared gave you twinkles all over your body. You wondered where this all might lead to. Perhaps nothing at all, or, as you hoped for, her number at least.

Ellie tosses the screwdriver to your side with a low hum before holding her hand out. “Pass me the torque, please?”

You reached into the toolbox, staring dumbly at the items. It seems you might’ve really needed the walk through after all. Along that tutorial you failed to learn what the hell a torque could be. “Let me try to find it...”

You looked through some more, trying to see what method could help you single out this torque. Meanwhile, Ellie rolled from underneath the car and sat on the creeper, rolling forward and towards you. You were so caught up in Ellie’s request, you failed to notice her presence.

When you finally chose a tool, Ellie’s hand happened to land onto yours. You and Ellie shot each other surprised glances and Ellie eased the tension with a subtle smile. She pulled her hand away, but not fully nor quickly. Not quickly at all.

In fact, she lingered like she wanted you to remember how her fingertips felt; slowly sliding her digits up the back of your hand. Just like that, everything felt like it was in slowmo. Everything but your heart, which was beating faster by the second. You knew you had to pull yourself together quickly. This moment could potentially make or break something.

“I found it.” You spoke out so lightly it could be mistaken for a whisper, peering your eyes into Ellie’s green pair. You didn’t have any expectations for what would happen next, but you were practically shaking from anticipation.

“Took you long enough. Do we need to go over it again?” Ellie responded just as low as you spoke. The husk and tease around her words made you clench around nothing, embarrassingly so.

You didn’t let that stop you, however, letting yourself indulge in her teasing for your own guilty pleasure. “Maybe… What’s this again? A hammer?”

Ellie grinned at your faux naïveté, her head cocking to the side. “I know you’re smarter than that.”

“I just need a quick reminder.” You grinned back as you spoke.

“That’s not what you really want though, is it?” Ellie’s smile faded into a less prominent, yet more seductive one.

You could swear up and down her eyes flickered down to your lips a couple times, so you naturally started leaning towards her.

What you failed to realize was that Ellie had already started to lean towards you. She dropped off the creeper, decreasing the distance between you two dramatically. She leaned herself against her hands and spread her legs, leaving you kneeled between them. There were no coherent thoughts in your mind, but you finally had an expectation and that was Ellie’s lips on yours.

Your lips collided and your eyes fluttered shut. You instantly dropped the torque back in the box and stiffened a bit, not sure if this was really happening or not. However, whether it was real or not, you wanted to do a good job.

The kiss started off slow, testing the waters. Ellie’s smooth, gentle lips made you feel tipsy along with that smell you loved blocking your senses. You were completely intoxicated.

Ellie slid her palm on your hip and gradually roamed the small of your back. The sudden touch shot electricity through your body. She was balancing herself on one hand now, but she attentively stayed on your lips. You couldn’t stop the greed for more rushing through your core even if you wanted to. You placed your hand on the nape of her neck, desperately bringing her in to deepen the kiss.

You could feel the grin etched into her lips and it only drove you further. She obliged to your wishes and parted your lips against hers with minimal effort, easily intruding the tip of her tongue between. Your tongues slid and ran across each other sensually, and the messiness of it all had you sopping where you knelt. Too lost in the moment, you accidentally let a low moan escape. If Ellie couldn’t tell how needy you were, she could tell now.

She slowly broke away from your lips, and it left you both panting heavily. Your face, confused, and hers, studying. Did you turn her off? Did you do too much when she was probably expecting something less? You tried to avoid her eyes, too disappointed with yourself to look.

Ellie didn’t let the eye-contact break, following your eyes with a worried expression. “Hey, hey... It’s alright. You’re not in trouble.” Ellie said, letting out a cruel laugh at the end.

You frowned at the teasing this time and your embarrassment was even more evident.

Ellie took your expression in consideration as she leaned in to peck the corner of your lips. The gesture eased your worries, but you were unsure of how this would turn out. She gave you a brief smile before finally saying, “Are you sure you wanna do this?”

You nodded your head slowly and Ellie frowned at it. “I need words.” She said, more sternly than you’d expect.

She was quick to get a few words out of you. “I… I want this.”

“That’s all I needed to hear.” She replied, leaning in to connect lips with yours again. You didn’t realize how much you missed that contact until you felt chills run through your body.

You missed her lips on yours despite only kissing for so long. The hand Ellie had placed on your back drifted lower and grasped your ass, earning a moan from you, which Ellie took great pleasure in hearing and feeling.

By now, your knees were starting to hurt, and it took a lot of restraints not to topple over Ellie. However, you refused to move your lips from hers, you just got them back.

Unfortunately, Ellie must’ve noticed your stubborn shuffling since she pulled away despite your muffled protests.

“Let’s move somewhere more comfortable.”

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Ellie cracked open the door for you to a small lounge space and placed a quick apologetic kiss on your lips before walking off. She had noticed her handprint smudged on your shorts on the way to the lounge and it reminded her that she had to wash the car grime off before doing anything more with you. At this point you were so pent up you probably wouldn’t mind. You decided not to dwell on what risks you’re willing to take to fuck Ellie and sat yourself on a brown couch that felt a lot comfier than it looked. The vibe of the room was similar to Ellie’s car minus the smell of weed. Speaking of smells, it smelled just like her.

Thoughts of Ellie panting and briefly taking your lips between her teeth flashed through your mind. The vividness, considering it just happened, made the heat between your legs increase. You instinctively pressed your thighs together and fought the urge to take care of yourself right there and then.

Thankfully, Ellie strolled into the lounge and shut the door behind her, and it finished with a lock click. Your eyes met as she strolled towards you, plopping on the couch next to you.

Ellie opened her mouth to say something, but you didn’t want to hear it. Not right now. You cupped her face and pressed your lips into hers and you shut her up instantly. She leaned over you, pressing you back into the couch. Amidst the smacking and passion of your mouths against each other’s, Ellie’s hand drifted up your waist; thumbing along your skin. Everything was so hot and cloudy now; you couldn’t think about anything other than how good you feel.

At some point, Ellie’s leg was kneeled, and her thigh was wedged between your legs. You only became aware of the new positioning after accidentally pressing yourself against her. You were laid down on the couch, completely dazed with Ellie hovering over you. She noticed you coming back to reality and grinned smugly as she moved her hand underneath your top and groped at your breast. You arched into her touch, keening, and Ellie rewarded the sound by rubbing her thigh against your clothed clit.

You gasped sharply and the brief friction had you bucking for more. Your barely audible pleas must’ve triggered something in Ellie as she bent down to kiss you, taking your lips between her teeth. The feeling is even better than you remembered.

The intensity of the kiss is wet, hot, and you can’t remember when you last took a breath. You placed your arms over Ellie’s shoulders and lightly ran your fingertips along her back, rolling your hips into Ellie’s thigh. You were so close, so close until.. you suddenly lost contact. Ellie moved her right hand to your hip, gently pinning you down so you couldn’t move as she placed her thigh out of reach.

She has pulled away from you too often and you weren’t going to back down quietly this time. You broke off from her kiss-swollen lips, rather reluctantly, and begged. “Ellie! Please… just—”

Ellie shushed you and whispered directly into your ear, her breath hitting your cheek and sending shivers down your spine. “I’m gonna fuck you myself. Be patient.”

You weren’t gonna argue. You wanted that. You wanted her. Ellie moved her hand from your hips and went to loosen the button of your shorts. She moved her legs so that yours were fully between hers. You unwrapped your arms from her shoulders and helped her tug your shorts down urgently, lifting your hips to speed the process.

Ellie positioned herself so she could tuck your knees in. She parted your legs and leaned back, taking a moment to appreciate how wet you were for her; your slick heat coating your underwear, glistening, all for her to see. It would’ve embarrassed you in any other instance, but you were so filled with lust, none of it mattered.

She pressed her thumb against your clit, through your undoubtedly soaked panties and peered down at your face: brows furrowed and brimming with want. Ellie wasn’t gonna make you wait any longer. She moved the fabric out of the way and finally rubbed your bare clit with the pad of her thumb. You panted heavily, moving into her touch.

Ellie leaned towards you, turning her wrist clockwise and dipping her fingers between your folds, rubbing your labia between her middle and ring digits. You groaned out and quickly pulled up your top and tugged your bra underneath your tits so you could grasp at the sensitive area.

Your wetness coated Ellie’s fingers perfectly and it was only a matter of time before she fucked you with them senselessly. She coaxed your clit between her fingers, and although you were too wet for much friction, the pressure was just enough to get you there.

You fondled and squeezed at your chest, pinching at your nipples as your eyes clenched shut; concentrating on that release you needed so badly. Ellie was practically salivating at the sight, still hunched over you and getting off from the look of you alone.

Your much anticipated orgasm rolled through you, crashing in like a wave. You moaned loudly, arching your back and rolling your hips forward.

Ellie slowed down and helped you ride out your orgasm before suddenly slipping both fingers into your entrance. The sudden intrusion made you whine, and Ellie dipped down and pressed a kiss on your cheek. Your eyes were brimming with tears, but you needed her to move. You needed her to fuck you badly.

You squirmed under Ellie and she placed her free hand on the cheek she kissed, thumbing along it as she cooed at you teasingly. “Shhh.. You’re gonna ruin the makeup you fixed just for me.”

Ellie’s thumb creeped towards your swollen and gloss-less bottom lip, the aftermath of rough, sloppy kissing. You mouthed out a ‘whoops’ and faked a pout.

Ellie laughed as she gazed down at you. The sight of her flushed red, freckled cheeks smiling down at you only made you want her more. Ellie felt your need squeeze against her fingers, and she made sure that you knew she knew by glancing down at her fingers filling your cunt. She bit her bottom lip and decided to give you what you wanted, slowly pumping her fingers in you.

You keened colorfully, raising your tucked knees and wrapping your legs around Ellie’s waist. You needed her deep. She picked up her pace and curled her fingers, hitting that soft wall. She was doing everything right, there was no doubt in your mind she was an angel, a sexually experienced one at that. You pulled her down, meeting her halfway so you crash your lips into hers.

Ellie moaned over your lips and, god, you were so close. She slid a third finger in you, pumping and curling her fingers; knuckles deep. You were so close you were seeing stars, it made you think back on the little conversation you two had in the car and you wondered if this is what she meant. Then just like that they fucking connected.

You cried out as you came, tightening your legs around Ellie’s waist as you gushed over her fingers. She kept her fingers in you until you finished. Once Ellie pulled out, you groaned from the loss and she muttered out an apology.

You gave her one lingering kiss before plopping back down. You were utterly exhausted and aching. Aching... pleasantly, but that wasn’t the point. Your mind slowly started recollecting everything that happened. You were just fucked by a hot stranger you met in a town you still don’t know the name of. You’re not sure you would’ve remembered after this anyways.

“Usually I would help clean up, but...” Ellie gestured around her. You almost forgot you guys were at the back of a mechanic’s garage.

You snickered and nodded understandingly. “Right. I know.”

You two stared at each other awkwardly despite what occurred not even five minutes ago. Ellie ruffled with her hair before speaking out, “So… Can I take you out sometime? When your trip is over?”

You pushed up so you were at eye-level with her. “I... I think we’re past that, but yes. Yes, you can.” You leaned in for a kiss and she returned it with a grin.

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click 4 bonus!

#ellie x reader #ellie williams #ellie the last of us #ellie x fem reader #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x you #ellie williams x female reader #the last of us part 2 #ellie smut #tlou2

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russo-woso · 2 months

Text

The worst day | Jill Roord

Warning smut, MDI, thigh riding, fingering, dom!Jill, sub!reader, praise kink

It had been a stressful day to say the least.

You had woken up late due to your girlfriend, Jill, forgetting to set the alarm.

The two of you rushed around, getting ready for training before quickly making smoothies.

You arrived just on time at the Manchester City training ground, thanks to the quickness you both had getting ready.

Training went terribly wrong.

Due to the rushing around, you forgot to pick up your boots. One of the most important things for training, and you had forgotten them.

Luckily, you had spares you kept at the training ground, but you preferred your newer ones.

Thanks to your clumsiness, you fell over, tweaking your ankle which meant that you couldn't participate in the rest of training.

You sat out, with an ice pack on your ankle, whilst you watched all the others train.

Jill came and sat by you when she could, wrapping her arms around you and pressing light kisses to your head.

You just sighed and rested your head on her shoulder.

To add the cherry on top, when driving home, you and Jill stopped off at the shops to get some groceries you needed.

Everything was going fine. You paid for your shopping, getting back in the car, driving home.

Until you got to your front door.

You had picked up one bag, Jill taking the other, and as you approached the door, the bag split right down the middle making all your groceries fall out.

The eggs smashed everywhere on your front porch, the milk cartoon fell apart.

You just burst out in tears. It really had been one of the worst days of your life.

Jill ushered you inside, insisting that you go and relax whilst she cleaned the doorstep.

As Jill reentered, she found you still in tears.

She brought you into a hug, trying to comfort you.

"Liefje, I know it's been a bad day. How about we just cuddle and watch movies?" Jill suggested, placing one last kiss on your head before looking at you.

You wiped your tears away and nodded your head.

Jill walked you through to the living room, guiding you to lay down on her on the couch.

Still cautious of her ACL injury which she did 7 months ago, you cuddled into her chest, resting your head in the crook of her neck.

She put on your favourite movie, and a comfortable silence took over.

Throughout the first fifteen minutes, you were both fine. Just cuddled up to one another, enjoying each other's presence.

Then, Jill placed a hand on the back of your thigh.

Within the space of the next ten minutes, Jill's hand had travelled all the way up your thigh and was now resting on your ass.

You got distracted from the film and you lifted your head to look at her.

"Jill, stop it." You warned but when she did it again, you knew exactly what her intentions were.

"Let me make your day better, baby. I'll make you feel good." She whispered in your ear and a smirk appeared on her face.

She began kissing you passionately, her lips moving on yours perfectly.

She bit your bottom lip, which gave her access to your mouth.

You moaned into the kiss as you felt her hand move under your shirt.

"I'm gonna pick you up, okay baby?" She asked, her voice husky, as she picked you up, your legs wrapping round her waist.

"Mind your knee, Jill." You warned, out of breath from the kiss.

As she made her way upstairs with you in her arms, she kissed your neck gently.

You both made it to the bedroom, Jill placing you down on the bed and she crawled on top of you.

You couldn't make out if Jill was going to be gentle or rough tonight.

The kisses down your neck were hard but the touches on your body were gentle.

Jill reached down for the hem of your shirt and pulled it over your head.

Her lips went straight back to your neck, slowly making their way down.

You felt her hands on your back, inching closer and closer to undo your bra.

With one hand, she unclipped it and it fell of you.

"You're so beautiful, liefje." She whispered against your chest and reconnected her mouth.

A moan slipped out your mouth as Jill placed her mouth on your breast.

One hand on your other, gently squeezing whilst her tongue worked magic on the other.

She continued down your abdomen, reaching your sternum.

"Jill, please." You whined as her fingers traced the top of the trousers you were wearing.

She grabbed ahold of them and with one pull down, she revealed your aching core.

"You're going to be my good girl tonight, okay? You're going to do exactly what I tell you to. You understand?" Jill asked and you nodded your head, desperate to feel some kind of pleasure.

Jill quickly took her clothes off, leaving you waiting for her to actually do something.

"Please Jill. I need you to do something."

"And you will get something, baby. Come here." By this point, Jill had laid down next to you. She pulled you onto her thigh so you were now straddling her one thigh. "I want you to get off on my thigh."

"Jill, what about your knee?"

"My knees fine. Now do what I said." She commanded, grabbing a hold of your hips and helping you slide up and down the length of her muscular thigh.

You and Jill both moaned at the contact.

Jill loved the feel of your soaking core on her thigh.

The muscles in her thigh hit your clit just perfectly which sent wave of pleasure through your body.

"That's it, liefje. You're being such a good girl for me." Jill said and increased the speed of your actions.

Her grip got harder and your moans got louder.

"Fuck. Jill, I'm...I'm gonna — Fuck!" You managed to say as you came undone.

"Good girl. Ride it out."

Jill released the grip she had on your hips and pulled you in for a kiss.

Her hands made her way down to your cunt, her fingers brushing through.

You whined at the sensitivity but once that had gone, you whined due to the fact you were desperate to feel Jill's fingers.

"Jill please. I need your fingers in-." You began telling her but was cut off by her fingers burying themselves in your cunt.

She leaned down to kiss you, swallowing you moans.

You stopped kissing her back after a while, your jaw dropping open as she found your g-spot.

"You feel so tight around my fingers, babe." Jill groaned and increased her speed, curling her fingers as she did.

"I'm so close, Jill." You said to her in between moans.

"You're going to be my good girl and cum for me." Jill decades and you nodded your head, feeling the familiar knot break in your stomach.

Your legs began to shake and Jill's name fell from your lips like a chant.

Jill continued to thrust her fingers into you, letting you ride out your high.

As soon as you started to get overstimulated, you jerked away and Jill pulled out.

"You were such a good girl for me." Jill whispered in your hair as she laid down next to you. "Do you need anything? Water? A bath?"

"A bath would be nice, baby. As long as you join me." You replied, your breath still uneven.

"Okay, liefje, I won't be a minute."

"Jill?" You called out to her as she got up from the bed. She tuned around with a curious look on her face. "Thank you for making my day better. That made up for all the bad things today."

"I'm glad it did, babe. You deserve the very best days. I’m sorry you didn’t have a good one.”

"Trust me, I did. You just made it a good day.”

#woso community #woso x reader #woso #woso imagine #womens football #woso fanfics #woso smut #jill roord

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theemporium · 9 months

Note

Oh what about sugar daddy!charles completely spoiling his girl and she just bursts into tears in the middle of a fancy shop cause she’s due on her period and all she wants is a lazy day with him

thank you for requesting!🫶🏽

You didn’t mean to ruin the day.

It had been a while since you had seen Charles—around two weeks to be exact. Between meetings and factory days and races, he hadn’t been able to come see you. And because of your classes and assignments, he couldn’t fly you out to join him either.

It was tough. It really was. With the time differences and just how hectic both your schedules were, it was difficult to really sort out video calls or even phone calls that lasted longer than five minutes. All your interactions with the boy had been through texts or the bouquets of flowers he kept sending you, but it wasn’t enough.

It was him you wanted.

It was him you needed.

And then just last night you were hit with a wave of pain all over your body. Your back hurt, your muscles aches and the cramps stabbing into your lower abdomen just made you want to cry. You woke up that morning to your period and you were already so done with the day. You just wanted a simple day in as your body went through the worst symptoms.

But when Charles had finally landed and drove to your apartment to spend his break in between races with you, you didn’t have the heart to say anything to him. You didn’t have the heart to say no when he came barrelling through the door, so perked up and excited and ready to spoil his girl after almost two weeks of nothing.

So, you let him drag you out of the apartment. You let him pack you up in his fancy car with their new leather seats and drive into town. You let him drag you from shop to shop as he swiped his card like it was nothing more than a wave of a wand.

But this wasn’t what you wanted. You didn’t want him spending money on you or buying you a bunch of new things. You didn’t want him making you his own little model, trying on different dresses and shoes.

You just wanted a day in with him, cuddled up on the couch with his back pressed against your chest and his hands resting on your stomach as he held you through the worst of the cramps and pain. You just wanted to be pressed up against him as close as you could be.

You just wanted your Charles.

You didn’t even realise the tears had started falling until you felt warm hands encompassing your cheeks. Thumbs were gently wiping away the tears that ran down your cheeks and his face morphed into one of concern.

“Ma cherie,” he murmured in a soft voice, though his worry was evident. “What’s wrong? What’s happened? Do you not like this colour?”

But you shook your head, feeling the embarrassment wash over you for the scene you were throwing in the uptown boutique. You couldn’t help yourself as you wound your arms around him, nuzzling your face into his chest as an attempt to hide yourself.

“I don’t wanna be here,” you cried into his chest. “But you’re being so nice and I feel so bad, but everything hurts and I just wanna be at home with you. I’m sorry but—”

“Shhh, it’s okay, ma belle,” he hummed as his arms wrapped around you protectively, a kiss placed on the top of your head. “You should’ve said something. I just want you to be comfortable.”

You sniffled. “I’m sorry—”

“Don’t apologise,” Charles told you before pulling back, smiling softly when he noticed the way you stared so helplessly at him. “We are gonna pack everything up here and head home. Maybe have a bath and order that Italian food you like, hm? How does that sound?”

“Perfect,” you confessed.

“Only the best for my girl,” he mused before pulling you closer. “Let’s go back home, cherie.”

#charles leclerc #formula one #f1 #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x y/n #charles leclerc fic #charles leclerc one shot #formula one x reader #formula one x you #formula one x y/n #formula one fic #formula one one shot #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 x y/n #f1 fic #f1 one shot

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wandaslittlelove · 2 months

Text

Just This One Thing

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Reader Warnings: angst/with a happy ending, reader almost marries a man

“Wanda?” I say to the redhead that just burst into my room seemingly out of breath. “You can't be here” I say, fixing my dress.

“I know,” she says quietly while walking closer to me. She stops just a couple inches away from me while looking over my dress and everything. “I just” she takes a deep breath “I had to see you” She whispers once again as she begins to play with the rings on her fingers.

“You need to leave.” I say sternly as I turn away from her trying to cry.

“Detka please. I'm so sorry for everything. But I promise I'll do better. I'll be better. Just please.” I say nothing and I hear her let out a sad sigh. “Let me walk you down the aisle. Just like we always planned. Then…Then I'll leave for good.” I hear the trembling in her voice and with a sigh I turn to face her.

As I get a good look at her I see how red her eyes are and the tears that are coming down them. She’s wearing my bridesmaid dresses so obviously someone had to have helped her. Noticing my staring, she speaks up.

“Natasha let me in. She also got me the dress.” I nod at her words and make a quick reminder to have a talk with Natasha later. “Look, I know you're upset with me. I want to make things right but I know you want nothing to do with me. So let me do this one thing for you and then I'll leave.” I contemplate her words as thoughts start racing through my head.

I don’t want her to leave but I know it's for the better because if she stays I'll fall right back into her arms. Her warm, safe, strong arms. Nothing compared to the man I'm about to marry. He barely pays attention to me, hangs out with his friends all the time, not to mention his “work vacations” or “overtime” which I know is him really just sleeping with Amanda from HR.

“Wanda I-” I'm cut off when she walks forwards, taking my face softly in her hands. I look at her in shock but quickly melt at the tears gathered in her forest green eyes. The eyes that I had fallen in love with years ago and can never seem to get over.

“Just this one thing princessa.” After a few minutes pass I see her deflate and she pulls away. I'm embarrassed to admit that I almost let out a whimper from the loss. As she turns to leave the door I panic and run up to her.

Next thing I know my back is against the door with her lips on mine. I forgot how soft her lips were. How gently she held me when kissing even if it was heated.

After a while we both pull away and she rests her forehead against mine.

“Detka I.”

“Don’t leave. Please don’t leave. I don't want to be with him. I want to be with you.” I ramble quickly as I hold onto her tightly. The sound of music can faintly be heard in the room and I know now that I was supposed to be walking down the aisle already.

Wanda seems to hear this as she glances at the clock then back at me.

“You have to make a decision fast. Choose me and we’ll leave right now. I'll text Nat and tell her. Or choose him and… and I'll go.” My mind seems to be racing again as I hold onto her tightly. I know that if I choose Wanda then Natasha will end the whole wedding. But if I choose my fiance. The guy I'm supposed to be saying “I do” to right now then the person I’ve loved for what seems like my whole life will leave with all the happiness I have left.

So with a quick kiss to her lips I hold her hand nodding. And with a smile she quickly drags me to her car before sending a quick text to Natasha.

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springwitch26 · 2 months

Text

sweet daisy and the violet witch (agatha harkness x fem!reader)

tip jar / masterlist

summary: you are a baby witch in a tough situation. when a mysterious, brooding woman offers to teach you how to control your powers, you can't refuse. but what does she want with you? and... what do you want with her?

warnings: smut (18+), captivity and bondage but reader isn't exactly unwilling, mind-reading, sexy magic, humiliation, praise kink, dirty talk, enchanted strap, squirting, agatha is dark ofc, reader has a shitty sexist ex-boyfriend but he's only there to set up the story

notes: MY FIRST AGATHA FIC! this is set pre-westview and it is just pages upon pages of detailed, heretical, homosexual filth. it's been a long time coming, and i'm really proud of it. hope you guys enjoy 💜

tears streamed down your face as you stormed out of your now ex-boyfriend's house. the relationship had run its course, you knew that. but you never expected the breakup to be so ugly. he called you a "crazy bitch" and threatened to call the cops on you for destroying his living room.

and you didn't even do anything! at least, not on purpose.

the fight lasted an hour. you told him you wanted to break up, and he didn't take the rejection well. he started cursing you out, following you around the house as you frantically gathered your belongings.

now, you could handle the insults to your appearance and the comments about all the other women who supposedly wanted him. but when he started making sexual remarks—talking about how "frigid" you were and lamenting that he never fucked you hard enough to put you in your place—you lost it.

"shut up!" you cried, and the house shook with the impact. a wave of daisy yellow light burst from your chest and wreaked havoc on the living room. every lightbulb in every lamp shattered. the tv fell off the wall. books flew off their shelves and hurtled toward your ex's head. the carpet was singed. a few cracks appeared in the ceiling.

your ex ducked to avoid the flying books, then fell to his knees. he was uninjured despite the destruction, but his pride was wounded. you used his moment of weakness to grab your bag and rush out of the house, running down the street as fast as you could while he shouted obscenities.

you ran for a minute or so before a black car with tinted windows pulled up beside you. you froze in fear, but quickly relaxed when the driver rolled her window down. she was an older woman, and a beautiful one at that.

long, dark waves framed her face, and concern was written in her expression. her left arm extended out toward you, and you could see she was wearing a deep purple blazer.

"hey, hon. i heard some commotion from down the street and then saw you running. are you alright?" the woman's low voice was soothing, and you felt much safer already.

"i'm okay, thank you. i just broke up with my boyfriend and it didn't go over well," you admitted, your shaky voice betraying your anxiety about the whole situation.

"well, i can't let you walk all the way home, sweetheart. how about i give you a ride?"

you considered her offer. it was cold and rainy outside, and your apartment was a good distance away. this woman was a stranger, but she put you at ease for some reason. besides, much worse people than her could be out at this time of night.

"that would be great. thank you so much. i'm y/n," you said, stepping into the passenger seat.

"agatha harkness," the good samaritan replied, offering her hand to you. you took her hand and shook it, noting the delicate veins running up her long fingers. her thumb stroked the back of your palm for a few seconds, and the skin tingled when she stopped. "lovely to meet you, dear."

you told her your address and she put it in the gps, beginning the 15-minute drive to your place. agatha was pleasant and kind as she listened to your story, how your boyfriend had treated you and how you'd reacted—omitting the magical details, naturally.

when the car pulled up in front of your apartment, you thanked agatha and gave her a hug. she smelled like violets and old books, and you hesitated to pull away. when you did reach for the door handle, it didn't budge.

it all happened in a flash: purple smoke obscured every window, your hands and feet were bound by glowing purple ties, and agatha smiled. the smoke cleared, and you were not at your apartment. instead, the car was parked in front of a small black house with gothic accents.

"wha—how—" you stuttered.

"i'm glad you asked. it was a simple illusion spell. couldn't have you getting suspicious, could i?"

"s-spell?"

"yes, darling, a spell. i'm a witch. you are, too, but i'm sure you already knew that."

you looked down at your lap and shook your head.

"oh? that's a surprise. i mean, i knew you weren't the most sophisticated witch, but i figured you'd at least have a grasp on what you are."

your mind reeled at the revelation. although she had basically kidnapped you, you felt a strange pull to the woman in the driver's seat. your gut told you to trust what she was saying: you were a witch.

"tell you what, baby witch," she offered, a mischievous glint in her eye. "if you promise not to run, i'll untie you."

what choice did you have but to obey her? you didn't know how to control your powers, and sooner or later, they were going to get you in trouble. agatha knew more than you did, and she was teasing you with the irresistible chance to understand your magic.

"i won't run," you whispered. you felt agatha lift her magical binds.

"good girl."

---

agatha did what she always did. she promised to teach you how to master your powers, lulled you into a false sense of security. and at night, when you were sleeping soundly in her bed, she would try to take your power.

it only took her a couple of days to realize that she couldn't access your magic. she tried everything, but your bright yellow power was totally incompatible with her mystic purple—a fountain of light, untouchable by other witches.

oddly, agatha accepted this. unlike any of her previous conquests, you inspired a curious fondness in the older woman. you were smart and beautiful, powerful yet unassuming. and you were hers to teach, to touch, to protect and corrupt. with some training, you would be a formidable ally.

as for you? you were neither her victim nor her partner, but something in between. you abandoned your old life and happily crawled into bed with her each night—so she could keep an eye on you, she said.

"women like us will never be safe in this world, y/n," she would whisper into your hair. "that asshole saw what you can do, and he didn't like it. you're too precious for the stake, honey. i have to keep you close."

agatha hated your ex, but she could use him to channel your rage. as you worked through the emotional toll of the breakup, you worked on your telekinesis. as you processed the extent of his manipulation, you learned the basics of mind control.

one day, agatha wanted to see if you could hold your own against her. she was anxious to know if you could protect yourself with the strategies she'd taught you.

"you ready, superstar?" agatha asked, looking you up and down hungrily. you were wearing the outfit she had picked out specifically for this occasion: a black mesh halter top with a little yellow skirt, "ideal" for mobility. "don't worry, i'll go easy on you."

"i think so," you responded, trying to settle your nerves and anticipate her first move. but it was hard to focus when she stared at you with dark eyes, hair pulled back into a ponytail and arms crossed, emphasized by her tight purple t-shirt.

"don't get distracted, now," a sultry voice whispered from behind you. agatha had teleported, and you were too focused on her arms to notice. "that's rule number one."

you shuddered at the feeling of her hot breath in your ear, but kept your guard up. purple strings began to flow from her fingertips and wrap around you. you swiftly floated up and out of her hold, yellow sparks carrying you across the room.

you landed with a flourish and agatha raised her eyebrows, impressed. she didn't let you rest for more than a second, though, as a blow of her magic struck you right in the chest.

you stumbled back, but quickly retaliated. with a snap of your fingers, agatha was knocked off balance by a burst of yellow. she smirked and waved her palm. but this time, you remembered to block, crossing your arms and projecting a white shield in front of you.

"so you have been listening to me," she cooed, flying toward you and pushing you up against the wall with her magic. "you always seem so preoccupied when i'm teaching you, like your pretty little mind is off somewhere else. tell me, do i scare you?"

the answer was complicated. yes, agatha scared you, but not in an unpleasant way. it was a thrilling kind of fear that left you breathing hard and wanting more.

"no, ma'am," you decided, using her momentary surprise to push back against the magic pinning you to the wall. agatha withdrew.

"hmmm, 'ma'am.' i like the sound of that," she drawled as you awaited her next move. "you're doing well, baby witch, but you forgot one thing."

in a split second, you were lying flat on your back, purple threads binding your hands and feet to the carpet. before you could even attempt to react with magic, agatha was on you. she hovered above your restrained form and leaned in.

"rule number two: protect your mind," her voice above you was the last thing you heard before being plunged into darkness.

---

when you came to a few minutes later, agatha was still on top of you. she wore a coy smile as she watched the purple swirls disappear from your eyes.

"welcome back, sweet daisy," agatha husked. "after reading your mind, it seems like you're not as sweet and pure as i thought."

you struggled against her restraints, but they didn't budge. you were definitely losing the fight, but with the way she was looking at you (like she wanted to ravage you), you didn't much care.

"you wanna know what i saw, pretty girl?" she taunted, and you swallowed thickly but did not respond. "i saw myself on top of you just like this, pumping my fingers inside you while you screamed out for mercy."

well, your secret was out. but agatha didn't seem displeased; on the contrary, she was basking in your humiliation like a true sadist. you felt wetness gathering in your panties at the sight.

"i saw myself bending you over," she continued, using her powers to lift you off the ground and maneuver you so you were bent over the couch. "punishing you for forgetting your spells."

she swatted your ass once, hard, and you whined pathetically.

"i saw you kneeling between my legs," she said, once again manipulating your body into that position. "listening to my directions, being my good girl."

on your knees, you nuzzled agatha's leg in embarrassment, and she stroked your hair. you stayed like that for a minute before agatha lifted you into her lap, spreading your legs wide.

"and i saw you grinding in my lap, squirming and whimpering like a needy whore," she concluded, running her hands up and down your inner thighs as you straddled her. "what do you have to say for yourself, honey?"

you were at a loss for words, now incredibly turned on and burying your face in her neck. her fingers twitched and you were pushed out of your hiding place, her magic forcing you to face her.

"your mind is so dirty. how are you feeling? excited?" before you could respond, she slipped her hand between your legs. she lifted up your skirt and traced your slit over your panties, inhaling sharply when she found them soaked. "oh, you are. you just can't control yourself around me, can you? all hot and bothered. do you need me to take care of you?"

"yes, please," you begged, wiggling impatiently in her arms. tendrils of purple magic snaked around you, tickling your skin and preventing you from moving any more.

"much better," agatha hummed as she restrained you. she laughed seeing your helpless face. "don't pout. i'm going to touch you, make you feel so nice. but you need to sit still and take it like a good girl."

you nodded, and she rewarded you by vanishing your top. she took your breasts in her hands and kneaded them, working her way to your nipples. when she rolled them between her fingers, you yelped.

"shhh, i know, you're so sensitive," she cooed as she toyed with you. "you're in for a treat, babygirl. have you ever used your powers to play with yourself?"

she knew the answer. of course you hadn't. you didn't even know how. but she reveled in the way your face scrunched up in wanton embarrassment at the mention of touching yourself.

"allow me to demonstrate," she said, removing her hands from your nipples and whispering a latin word under her breath. you gasped when a purple buzz settled on your buds, replicating agatha's touch without physical contact. "feels good, hm?"

you merely whined and tried to grind against her, frustrated when you couldn't move an inch. she seemed to know what you needed, though, as your skirt then disappeared in a flash of violet.

"as much as i love that little skirt on you, honey, it's in the way of what i really want to see," agatha drawled, and you held your breath with the anticipation. with no warning, she gently lifted your hips up toward her, leaned down, and latched onto your clit through your panties.

"oh my god!" you moaned as she suckled through the fabric, putting delicious pressure on your bundle of nerves. then she sat up again and returned you to your position on her lap, once again whispering the incantation to continue stimulating your clit.

"i'm flattered, but there's no god here. just me," she smirked, watching you writhe in tortured pleasure. "alright, superstar, you with me? watch this."

she held two of her fingers up to your eye level, and your eyes grew wide as her fingertips lit up. with a predatory grin, she thrusted her fingers upwards, and you felt them inside you. you couldn't suppress your sinful moan.

"don't you see how powerful we are? i'm not even touching you, and you can feel me in your pretty little pussy," she mused, drunk on her power over you. "and if i do this," she curled her fingers just right, and you screamed as she stroked your special spot, "i can feel you squeezing me. like a tiny piece of heaven."

while her fingers continued thrusting and curling, her power pumping in and out of you, she used her other hand to explore every inch of your body. she touched you like you were the most precious work of art, a soft and delicate masterpiece in her arms. her touch and her magic were all over you, and you felt yourself getting close to the edge.

"won't be long now. you're so easy, sweetness," she sang proudly. her free thumb found your clit and rubbed tight circles on it, direct touch compounding the pleasure from her magical suction. not even a minute later, your release swept over you. "there you go."

when you came, agatha lifted the restraints so she could watch your legs shake and your core convulse. she kept pumping her fingers until she heard you whimper helplessly, squirming away from her invisible touch. she then withdrew the magical stimulation and ran her palms up and down your sides to comfort you.

"how was that, sunshine?" she smiled as she checked in with you. you gave her a breathless kiss, pouring all of your passion and admiration for the older woman into her mouth. her eyes sparkled with adoration as she looked at you, fucked out and struggling to stay upright in her lap. she inched closer to whisper against your lips. "i want to fuck you."

you weren't entirely sure what she meant, but you knew from your recent mind-blowing orgasm that anything was possible through magic. you started to get antsy in her lap again. you stood up on shaky legs and started toward the bedroom.

"don't be silly, superstar," agatha laughed as she effortlessly raised you into the air until you were hovering bridal-style in her arms.

agatha swiftly brought you up the stairs and into her bedroom. she laid you down on the bed and nudged your legs apart with her magic before retreating to the closet.

"do you know what this is, princess?" agatha asked, emerging from the closet with a large purple strap-on dildo in hand. you swallowed thickly at the sheer size of it and nodded your head.

"it's a strap-on," you replied sheepishly.

"correct, smart girl. this is a very special strap-on, though. do you know why?"

"no, ma'am."

"well, i want you to think of it as my cock. because when i put on the harness," she snapped her fingers and the strap was secured between her legs, "i can feel everything."

she gave the dildo a few rough strokes and groaned to illustrate her point. you trembled in anticipation. agatha was going to take you with the biggest cock you'd ever seen. and she would be able to feel the warmth, the wetness, the fluttering of your most intimate place with her own flesh. you unconsciously spread your legs wider.

"ready for me?" agatha crawled on top of you and dragged the tip of her cock through your messy folds, getting it lubricated. you nodded tentatively. "i'll be gentle. wouldn't want to break my delicate little flower. at least, not yet."

the second her tip breached your entrance, you inhaled sharply. it was going to be a tight fit, even though you were soaked. agatha recognized your discomfort and leaned down to kiss your lips sweetly. with another latin whisper, you felt those soft kisses all over your body, on every part of you all at once—even your clit. this relaxed you, and agatha gave you a few more inches.

"you're so tight," the older woman breathed, marveling at the sensation of feeling your wet warmth around her. "and all mine, little witch. you'd like to be mine, wouldn't you? i'd dress you every day in those mini skirts and no panties, play with this pussy all day long."

agatha's words worked exactly as she intended. you lost yourself in the hazy fantasy of being hers, and she penetrated you all the way. you both cursed as she bottomed out.

"good girl, taking my cock so well, letting me fill you up. let me just..." she trailed off and pulled out before thrusting back in at a new angle, hitting your g-spot and conjuring stars behind your eyes. "there she is."

once she knew you were okay, agatha seemed to lose the last of her restraint. she fucked you fast and rough, slamming her tip into your sweet spot on every thrust. she forced her cock even deeper by pinning your knees to your chest with her powers. then she snapped her fingers and the suction was back on your clit, only three times more powerful than before.

"come on my cock, y/n," agatha commanded, sending you flying into an orgasm. this one felt different from the first one, like a spark in your core spreading into an uncontrollable fire throughout your body. your legs jerked and your face twisted up, and the sight of you sent agatha over the edge too. you felt her hot release coat your walls, satiating you.

agatha pulled out of you and coaxed you to sit up, at which point you noticed the mess. a glowing purple liquid seeped out from between your legs, and agatha's midsection was dripping with clear liquid... wait, was that glowing too? the yellow aura looked unnatural, almost neon.

"rule number three," agatha chuckled, sensing your confusion. "don't be alarmed when things start glowing. comes with the territory, dear."

"how did that...?" you wondered aloud.

"well, for me it was an artistic choice. some women really enjoy the idea of me coming inside them, so i added a special enchantment to make their dreams come true," she explained. then her face broke into a smug grin. "and you, my darling, you squirted. it's not a magical experience on its own, but apparently it was for you."

your eyes followed her hands as she gestured to the glimmering evidence of your climax.

"have you ever done that before?" she asked while waving her hands in the air. before she finished the sentence, you were both suddenly clean and wearing fresh pajamas, warm like they'd just been in the dryer.

"no," you admitted, still a bit shy after losing control so dramatically. agatha hummed and pulled you close, and you grew drowsy while she cuddled you.

"oh, sweet daisy girl. i still have so much to show you."

#agatha harkness x reader #wandavision fanfic #mcu fanfiction #agatha harkness x you #agatha harkness x female reader #agatha harkness x y/n #wlw fanfic #wlw smut #wandavision smut #agatha harkness smut #fanfic #marvel fanfiction

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rxmqnova · 4 months

Note

Wanda / R daughter

R is a bit babyish for our age and Tommy and Billy makes fun of us for it. But when the twins take our blankie and we can't sleep Wanda puts her foot down.

Y/N's blankie

Y/N: 6 years old Billy and Tommy: 9 years old ——————————————————

NO ONE'S POV "Alright, my little monkey. We're gonna buy some groceries and then we need to pick up the boys from school, yeah?" Wanda smiles, tucking a strand of hair behind her youngest child's ear while buckling her into the car seat.

It's one of those days Y/N hasn't been feeling the best, so Wanda let her stay home today to avoid a potentional meltdown.

"Will you buy me something in the store, mommy?" Y/N asks sweetly, holding her favorite pink bear blankie close and looking at her mommy, hoping for a yes.

The tiny girl won't make a single step without her blankie which is one of the reasons she's being picked on at school… and sometimes even at home. That's also a reason why Wanda sometimes lets her daughter stay home.

Wanda doesn't see Y/N's attachment to her blankie as a problem, though Tommy and Billy do. Of course Wanda has tried multiple times to explain it to her sons, but the twins just don't accept the fact that their sister is a little bit different in this than other children.

"If you'll be a good girl, I don't see why not" Wanda smiles, pressing a kiss to her daughter's forehead before closing the door and walking to sit behind the wheel.

It takes about 20 minutes until the pair arrives to the store. Y/N's been blabbering around the entire way, playing with her blankie while Wanda's been happily listening to her little girl.

And after what feels like hours of walking around the store, they finally get to the little toy aisle which, of course, catches Y/N's attention.

"Mama! Mama! Mama! Mama!" Y/N exclaims, tugging on Wanda's shirt while jumping up and down.

"What, honey?" Wanda chuckles, looking down at her daughter who gives her a grin.

"Can I go look there?!" Y/N points at the toys, hoping to get a toy for how nice she's been so far.

"Okay, you little monkey, let's look there" Wanda smiles, taking Y/N's hand in hers while pushing the shopping cart with her other hand, walking to where her daughter wants.

Of course Y/N starts walking around, deciding which toy should she ask for as there are so many of them, her blankie still in her arms.

"That one!" Y/N finally decides, taking the little stuffed monkey and walking back to her mother who's been watching her with a smile the entire time. "Mommy, can I please, please, please get this one?" She asks sweetly, pulling out her best puppy eyes on which Wanda can't say no. Plus Y/N's been really nice, so there's no reason to say no anyway.

"Of course, sweetheart. But now we really need to hurry up" Wanda smiles, lifting her daughter up and placing her inside the shopping cart to save some time as the tiny one really likes to stop and look around, asking about everything she sees.

———

It's been about two hours since Wanda, Y/N and the twins got home. The boys are now playing video games in the living room while Y/N's there too, playing with her toys.

"Where's my monkey?" Y/N furrows her brows in confusion, turning around and trying to find the toy Wanda bought her earlier today.

Tommy and Billy share a look, trying hard not to laugh as they were the ones who hid their sister's new toy.

"Billy? Tommy? Have you seen my monkey?" Y/N asks sweetly, looking at her brothers with hope in her eyes, but the twins only burst into laughter on which Y/N furrows her brows in confusion. "Why are you laughing? Do you know where my monkey is?" She asks once again, her eyes filling with tears and her bottom lip trembling.

"You're such a baby, don't even understand fun" Tommy rolls his eyes at the sight of his upset little sister, throwing the toy at her.

Though then another idea pops up in his head. If they take Y/N's blankie away, she won't be able to take it to school and 'embarrass' them, right?

Without thinking about the consequences, Tommy reaches for his sister's blankie that's been laying on the couch.

Y/N immediately tries to take it back, but Tommy holds it up, so even while jumping Y/N's not able to reach it.

"It's mine, give it back!" Y/N orders with a whine, but Tommy just throws the blankie to his brother, both laughing.

"Come for your blankie, Y/N" Billy teases, waiting for Y/N to run to him before throwing the blankie back to Tommy.

This repeats for a few minutes until Y/N has enough of it and runs to her bedroom with tears running down her cheeks.

———

Ever since that moment Y/N hasn't spoken a word. She's spent a while in her room by herself until Wanda got worried and came for her.

"There you are, bubs" A sigh of relief escapes Wanda's lips once she finally finds her daughter.

Y/N's now laying in her bed, just playing with the fabric of her bedsheets on which Wanda furrows her brows in confusion. Her daughter isn't the type to be just laying in bed.

"What's wrong, Y/N/N?" Wanda asks as soon as she sits down on Y/N's bed, running her fingers through her daughter's hair and not getting any response.

"You look tired, sweetheart. I think you're gonna go to bed early today" Y/N would normally complain about it, yet she doesn't say a single word again on which Wanda starts getting worried.

"What's gotten into you, baby? Y/N/N doesn't want to talk?" The desperate mother asks, finally getting a reaction from her daughter as she shakes her head. "Okay, Y/N/N doesn't have to talk if she doesn't want to" Wanda smiles a little bit, bending down to kiss her daughter's forehead.

Y/N haven't even said anything during dinner which is not common at all. The tiny one normally doesn't close her mouth for even a second and the fact she's been quiet all along is making Wanda really worried.

Now it's time for bed though, so while the boys are watching TV in the living room as they are allowed to stay up for a little more than Y/N, Wanda's tucking in her daughter.

But there's a big problem… Y/N just doesn't fall asleep without her blankie. No matter how tired she is, she won't close her eyes if her blankie isn't in her arms.

"What's wrong, baby? Can you tell mommy what got you so upset?" Wanda asks softly, noticing the tears in her daughter's eyes.

Though Y/N only burst into tears, making her poor mother panic. Wanda has no idea if her daughter is hurt, if she's just not having her day or if the boys told her some scary stories again.

Wanda scoops her daughter into her arms and starts looking for Y/N's blankie immediately, knowing it's the only thing that can comfort her daughter in any situation.

"Where's your blankie, baby?" Wanda asks, hoping to get an answer from her daughter, only to get more cries in response. "Oh, is this what made you so upset, sweetheart? That you don't have your blankie?" She asks softly after the realization, rubbing her daughter's back and pressing kisses to her head.

"Billy and Tommy don't want to give it back" Y/N hiccups before burying her head into Wanda's neck, crying loudly.

Wanda stands up immediately, heading into the living room with her crying daughter in her arms. She's talked to her sons about why's Y/N's blankie so important to her so many times, so the fact they took it makes her really angry.

"Boys, give me the blankie" Wanda orders sternly, watching as both of her sons look at her.

"W-what do you mean, mom?" Tommy asks, hoping he would get out of this conversation and wouldn't be in trouble.

"Give me Y/N's blankie" Wanda repeats, looking at her sons sternly. Both knowing they're in trouble, Billy takes out Y/N's blankie from under the pillow where they hid it, handing it to his mother.

Y/N's cries stop almost immediately once she has her blankie secured tightly in her arms which makes Wanda let out a sigh of relief.

"I'm going to put Y/N down now, but when I come back, you two and I will have a little chat" Wanda tells her sons sternly, anger still visible in her eyes.

She'll certainly make sure this time the twins will finally understand that making fun of their little sister and taking her things that bring her comfort is not okay.

----------------------

Wanda Maximoff masterlist

Masterlist

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harlowcomehome · 8 months

Text

Divorce and takeout menus:

You had spent the first half of your day getting the house ready for Jack to come home. You had set out a colorful tablecloth on your kitchen table, got paper plates you knew the girls would like, and bought him his usual “coming home” flowers.

He had been in Canada the last week tending to business opportunities.

When it was finally time you picked Hazel and Jade up from their separate schools, noticing as soon as she got in the car that Hazel seemed upset about something.

She was a lot like her dad in every aspect. This meant, when something was bothering her she shut down, got quiet, and waited for someone to notice. Her energy was sad, and you knew she was on the verge of crying at any given moment.

“Hazey, baby? How did your day go?”

She opened her mouth to speak but tears came first.

“Where is Daddy? Did he come home yet?”

You checked the time. “He should be at home sweetheart!” You looked at her through the rearview mirror, noticing she was crying harder now.

“Why cry?” Jade reached over her car seat to wipe Hazel's face but sighed when she couldn’t reach.

“I just miss daddy!” She wiped her face as she continued to cry. You reached back, handing her your cell phone.

“Call him baby! He just got home and he’s probably still awake waiting for you two.”

Hazel sniffled FaceTiming her dad on the way home.

“Hi, booger!” Jack teased before seeing her face. “Oh no! Hazey, what’s wrong?”

“I missed you! A lot!” Her bottom lip quivered as she tried to gain control of herself.

“Baby girl, I missed you too! I’m home now! I got you and your sister gifts and when you get here I’ll show you all the pictures Uncle Urb took!” He was staring at his eldest daughter's expression that didn’t change much.

“I don’t care about the stuff. I just wanna see you. You’re my favorite person Daddy!” She was crying again and you were growing more and more worried, wondering what had happened at school that made her so emotional.

Unlike Jade, Hazel usually didn’t cry much. Jade started crying the moment Hazel's eyes filled with tears.

“How far are you guys?”

“We are about ten minutes away” you hollered so he could hear you.

“Don’t go okay? Stay on the phone until we get home?” Hazel looked at her dad through the FaceTime call with pleading eyes.

“Okay Hazey” he hummed and continued to make conversation as you pulled into the driveway.

When you got to the house, he waited outside as you opened the door for Hazel to greet him, before unbuckling Jade and helping her out of the car.

“Daddy!” Jade ran over and hugged his leg before he picked her up, Hazel still attached to him.

Jack looked at you with a face full of confusion and you shrugged, not having a clear answer for him.

Hazel hadn’t left his side since she got home, she followed him to the bathroom and waited outside of the door, he moved and she was his shadow.

You silently motioned at Jack, urging him to push her to explain.

“Hazel, sweetheart? What happened at school today that made you so sad?” Jack asked once Jade was fully distracted by a toy.

“My friend Ashley told me her daddy doesn’t live with them anymore and that he doesn’t ever want to again” she sniffled, her lip quivering as she told him the story.

“Did that make you worried that I wasn’t coming home?” His eyes softened listening to her explain.

She nodded before continuing to explain.

“Ashley said her daddy doesn’t love her anymore because he told her that.” Hazel started heavy breathing, and Jack knew she wanted to cry again. He leaned over and held her, giving her the biggest hug he could as she sobbed into his chest.

You were in the kitchen, opening the cabinets to look for dinner while overhearing the conversation and wanting to burst into tears yourself. You had known about Ashley's parents getting a divorce, but you didn’t know he had gone “no contact” or that he broke his daughters heart like that.

You knew tonight wasn’t a night for cooking, ordering takeout immediately.

“That would never happen with us Hazey. I love you so much, and I promise I won’t ever stop. You know that right?” He was trying his best not to cry, his lips quivering.

“You’re not going anywhere?” She sniffled.

“Never.”

You walked into the room, sitting beside them.

You and Jack took turns explaining what a divorce was making sure to explain to Hazel that you and Jack weren’t thinking about that at all.

“Daddy just has a busy job which means he’s not here sometimes” you continued to explain.

“But I’ll always come home” he booped her nose, reassuring her and making her giggle.

Jade realized you were still on the couch, climbing up on it “can we eat now?”

Hazel laughed, “Yeah, I’m hungry too.”

You checked your phone, “I have food coming, it looks like they are about 5 minutes away. How about you girls go wash your hands?”

That was usually yours and Jack's signal that you needed to speak to one another without the girls.

He urged them to go and stood up to speak to you.

“I think we handled that pretty good right?” He scratched the back of his neck nervously.

“Yes. But she needs some time with you. I ordered your favorite take out and maybe we can all watch a movie? I think they need an impromptu daddy date.” You looked around the corner to see if they were coming yet.

“You’re so cute. You really think of everything,” he laughed, scrunching his nose at you.

“I know you’re exhausted baby, but I think this will be good for them.“

“I know you are too” he smiled, leaning down to kiss you. “You’ve been here taking care of them all week without me. I agree this will be good for them. I’m not that tired.”

You knew he wasn’t being truthful about that, but admired it.

“I’m their mom!” You giggled shrugging it off, never wanting to make a big deal of anything.

“You know what I mean. I just appreciate you” he kissed you again.

“Did you like your flowers?” You smiled, taking in this private moment for as long as possible. You really did miss him when he was gone.

“You know I love them, I always do. How did I get so lucky? I married such a beautiful and thoughtful woman” he rubbed his hands down your lower back giving your butt a quick squeeze before the girls came giggling down the hall. He pulled his hands back quickly making you giggle.

“What if we had a daddy-daughter date girls? What do you two say?” Jack asked both Hazel and Jade who both jumped up and down excitedly.

You let him take the credit, he more than earned it.

The doorbell rang suddenly and Jack went to get the food, shaking the bag dramatically as the girls got excited.

“My favorite!” Hazel exclaimed grabbing the bag from Jack and running to place it on the table.

“You can thank your mom for that! She’s the one who ordered it” he winked at you, giving you your credit too.

#Jack Harlow #Jack Harlow fan fic #jack harlow concepts #jack harlow imagines #jack harlow blurb #Jack Harlow x reader #dad! Jack

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yeoblurbs · 10 months

Text

[05:34] angst to fluff, one-shot

Pairing: Choi San x Female Reader

WC: 2k

Warnings: small mentions of drinking (wine), subtle hints of anxiety, an awkward situation in public

Your hands shake beside you, heart hammering in anger as your eyes well up with tears. “That’s not what I intended to happen, San. I would never intentionally fuck up something that meant so much to you!” you throw your hands in the air as you speak, brows furrowed in frustration.

San is quiet; calm. Except his jaw is clenched, eyes narrowed and the dimples you love so much are nowhere to be seen. You want to throw up at the sheer hatred you see in his eyes.

His tongue pokes the inside of his cheek as he takes a deep breath, though the tension in his shoulders stays. “you’re saying it’s not your fault but if you were just nice to her, none of this would’ve happened!” he exclaims angrily.

“I was nice to her!” you cry out desperately. your face is crumpled in pure despair as you hear his next words. “clearly, not enough! so when I go back to work and lose my promotion because my crazy jealous fiancée couldn’t act civil, how will you still say that it’s not your fault?"

You hadn’t meant to cause a scene. San had asked you to come with him to a work party, one announcing his job promotion and you’d been delighted. except upon arriving, he had immediately been torn from your side by fellow coworkers, and while you were nervous, you knew you could handle yourself alone.

the problem arose when you went to use the restroom and in walked three girls, ones you saw speaking to San earlier while casually touching his arms. immediately uncomfortable, you quickly dry your hands intending to leave as soon as you could, except the black-haired one in the middle locks the door before walking right up to you.

she smiles, pearly white teeth and crimson lips, “you’re Sans girlfriend, right? I’m Yuna, his friend.”

if it weren’t for the fact that she locked you inside, you might’ve found her friendly. You smile, tight-lipped yet respectful, “I’m actually his fiancée, y/n. it’s nice to meet you, Yuna.”

her smile sours at your reply, and her friends ignore you entirely as they apply their makeup in the mirror. you know what will occur next is not something peaceful, having watched enough chick flicks to realize things would turn messy if you didn’t leave now. you bow in passing as you walk towards the door, swiftly moving past Yuna and unlocking it with a smile and nod.

except it wasn’t over then, and 30 minutes later, Yuna stands in front of you, her cherry lips parted in shock with a large red wine stain on her white dress. she begins to cry, soft sobs leaving her throat and her friends comfort her while looking at you with rage.

you open your mouth to say something; anything, but Yuna whips her head up and speaks, her voice intending those surrounding you to hear, “I haven’t done anything with San! We’re just friends, I would never go after a guy that’s taken!” her bottom lip curls into a pout. she looks at you with sadness, round eyes filled with tears as she bursts into more sobs. “you didn’t need to dump the wine on me, I’ll stay away from San, I promise!”

you’re in shock, unsure what to do as the circle of Sans coworkers look at Yuna in pity and stare at you with ire. you want to defend yourself, but how could you possibly shout that you hadn’t dumped anything on her, rather, that she dumped it on herself? who would they believe, the coworker with wet eyes or the outsider who stands before her?

but then you remember San; your fiancée, your best friend, and your soulmate. except before you can search the crowd for him, you feel a grip on your wrist as you’re pulled from the scene. you can hear him whispering apologies as he bows to fellow coworkers, but you’re too stumped at the entire situation while he brings you back to his car.

so that’s how you’re here, in your apartment at 12:32am shaking in distress as you are blamed for a situation that was not your fault. but you could handle Yunas friends blaming you, you could handle their coworkers looking at you with distaste, however, what you could not handle was San, your San, looking at you with loveless eyes as if you were nothing but a pesky, immature girlfriend. you hate that he trusts you this little; that your word wasn’t enough to him. you know you would believe him had the roles been reversed, and perhaps that is what hurts you most.

“I don’t know what you want me to say, San. I told you I didn’t do it, she poured it on herself and if you can’t believe me then maybe that says something about this relationship,” at your last sentence his face drops. his shoulders have released some tension and his eyes carry less hatred. but it’s not enough for you anymore. hurtful words have been thrown your way and you didn’t think you could stand to look at his cold gaze any longer.

you take a deep breath before wiping your cheeks and grabbing your own car keys. San has stepped forward, he looks confused as you turn to him, “I’m going to stay at my friend's house tonight. Go get some sleep and we’ll talk soon.” you utter tiredly yet no less firm.

he looks slightly panicked as his hand darts up to grab your wrist, but you aren’t in the mood to explain yourself any longer; you shake his hand off and wait for him to reply.

“wait.. you’re leaving? we need to still.. let’s just talk about this. don’t leave before we resolve this.” he pleads softly. the anger has washed from his form and his face holds nothing but a soft frown, fury nowhere to be seen. but it’s still not enough, at least not right now. “no, San. I don’t think I can properly speak to you right now after hearing you blame me for something that was not my fault. you made it clear that you don’t trust me. I need space.” you glance up at him before looking to the door, “sleep it off and I’ll see if I’m in the mood to talk tomorrow.”

But San isn't angry anymore, no, he could handle losing his job promotion, hell, he could handle losing his job entirely. what would destroy him most is losing you, and he feels guilt claw at his chest when he thinks about the words he carelessly spewed tonight. he needs you to know he's sorry, but how can he do that if you're gone? San looks at you in agony, eyes filled with anguish at the mere thought of you leaving right now. “do you have to? can you just stay? please? I’m sorry, I’m sorry for all of this but please let’s just sit down and talk.” he swallows and bites his lip, tears springing to his eyes, “don’t go.. don’t leave me” he pleads. "At least let me apologize."

the sight of his tears brings you pain, but you know you need the space for at least one night. you sigh and approach him. his teary eyes stare into your sad ones while you cup his reddened cheeks and kiss his forehead.

“I’ll be back tomorrow, san-ah. I’m hurt, but I still love you, and we will still talk.. but right now I really need the space. I hope you can respect that." you speak softly, aware of his fragile state despite the fact that you, too, are hurting just as much, if not more than he is.

Sans lips press together in another frown as he nods and kisses your temple gently, "Okay, I understand. I still want you to know I'm sorry, and I love you." your eyes fill with tears at the gesture and comment before you turn to leave.

ꕥ

You spend the night with your friend, updating her on what happened at the party. she tells you to leave San for good, but even she knows you would never do that, at least not over something like this. you arrive back at the apartment sometime in the afternoon, taking your time to reflect on the argument and process how you felt. you come to the conclusion that you will forgive San once he apologizes, though he will have to make it up to you with more than a simple 'sorry' this time.

you place your keys on the counter, taking off your jacket, and hanging it up. you look around in question, wondering where San was and how he could leave without saying anything when the two of you had yet to resolve yesterday's argument. you pad over to your shared bedroom, opening the door, and walk towards the lump on your bed. you pull back the cover and smile at the sight.

Sans hair is splayed out on the pillow, cheek smushed with his lips in a pout. your smile dims when you notice the redness beneath his eyes, realizing he must have cried quite a bit. you cup his cheek, rubbing your thumb underneath his eye as you lean down and place a gentle kiss on his forehead.

when you raise your head, his eyes flutter open. "morning, baby" you whisper with another kiss, this time to his nose. he crinkles his nose cutely at the action, before sitting up and attacking you in a hug. you fall on the bed with a soft thud while he lays his head on your chest and rubs his cheek on you; an endearing habit he had when he needed comfort.

you open your mouth to speak, but he beats you to it. "I'm sorry. yesterday I was a complete ass. there is no excuse for how I behaved or the things I said." he lifts his head up and looks at you, face inches apart, "I was afraid to lose my promotion, but still, I shouldn't have blamed you for something that wasn't your fault." he sighs and the two of you sit up facing each other.

"I..I'm so incredibly sorry for what I said and the way I handled the situation." he pauses and reaches for your hand; you notice his is shaking. "I've been so worried about my job, that I treated you like shit even though I knew it was wrong. I know it'll take time for you to fully forgive me," he squeezes your hand and looks you in the eye, "but I hope you know I love you, and I'll do my best to make things right."

you smile tearfully at his formal-like apology. while the wounds were still fresh, seeing his serious demeanor and hearing his reassuring words that he did truly love you was comforting. still, though, there was one thing you couldn't shake off; one comment that had you spiraling. "Do you still think I'm a crazy jealous fiancée?" you utter lightly, though your heart feels heavy when you ask.

San seems to feel worse at your question, as he looks at you with a pout and pulls your hand gently, maneuvering your body onto his. your head falls into the crevice of his neck. you move to look at him, until he places his hand on the back of your head softly, raking it through your hair.

"of course not! I was a dumb idiot who didn't know what he was talking about. if anything, I'm the one who gets crazy jealous." he grumbles sulkily at his last sentence, and you giggle when you realize he's not wrong. San can get jealous easily, always clinging onto you and nuzzling your neck for attention.

his words bring you comfort, and while San still has to make it up to you, you know the two of you can get through this. you place a soft kiss on his neck and hear his breath stutter before he squeezes you closer to him. you lift your head and stare at his face closely before kissing the corners of his red eyes. he blinks at each kiss and you smile at the endearing action before placing your lips on his.

yeah, the two of you would be okay. you were sure of it.

a/n: was supposed to be a drabble but i love happy endings:(

#san x reader #choi san x reader #ateez x reader #ateez angst #angst with a happy ending #san x y/n #san x you #ateez x you #ateez x yn #ateez fluff #ateez imagines #ateez fanfic

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wosowrites · 1 year

Text

Under the Surface (Leah Williamson x Reader)

warnings: none

a/n: based off this request here

prompt: in which the reader plays for barca and is secretly dating leah and the reader doesn’t want to hide anymore, but Leah doesn’t agree.

Long distance was shit. It was horrible. You and Leah had met when you played for Aston Villa a year ago. Your relationship got serious very quickly. But Jordan and Leah had just broken up a couple months ago and Leah was worried about what the people who had taken Jordan’s side in the breakup ( even though it was very friendly ) would say about you. And the same thing went for you. You had just gotten out of a short relationship with Guro Reiten, and felt as though keeping things with Leah underground was better.

But then Aston Villa wasn’t meeting your expectations, and you talked to Leah and decided you would both be able to survive long distance. You signed with Barcelona, Leah supporting you through it all.

As mentioned, long distance was hard on the both of you, but you managed. Your love for each other prevailed. The actual problem? It had been a year since you started dating, and even longer since both of your public breakups, so why was Leah wanting to keep it a secret?

It was even worse because you couldn’t talk to anyone about it, not your spanish teammates, not your barca teammates, not even your best friend, Ona, who told you all the time that she was only a call away.

You came to training on Monday, your eyes puffy, your hair in a tangled ponytail from the day before, your mascara slightly smudged. You felt worthless. There was only one explanation. Leah was embarrassed to be with you publicly, or at least didn’t love you enough to tell the world you were hers.

You drove to training with the music so loud your ear drums rang, and people gave you judgmental looks at red lights. "Oh cry about it!" you yelled at a lady who was scowling at you.

But you were the one who burst out into tears again.

You pulled into the training center and parked your car, taking a second to compose yourself. You looked at yourself in the mirror, tried to tuck strands of hair back and clear the shine of tears from your cheeks.

"Okay y/n, you got this." you told to yourself. "Daily affirmations. Let’s go."

You stepped out of your car and slung your backpack over your shoulder, making your way towards the doors. You scanned your player ID and opened the doors where photographers were. They started taking a few pictures but then stopped, realizing the shape you were in. "Please don’t post any of those," you told the photographer in spanish.

He nodded to you and you kept on walking towards the locker rooms. Most of the team was already there, and they went to smile at you as you walked in, except your whole look threw them off guard and their smiles dropped.

You held the gaze of the room for a couple seconds before speaking. "One comment. And I mean one comment and your head will be through the wall." You told the girls.

They were used to your empty threats, but today, it was not empty.

While everyone did their best to look away and not bother you, Aitana even going outside the room to warn the incoming teammates to not piss you off, Mapi came to you immediately. "Do you want me to do your hair?" she asked gently, already in her kit and her classic low messy bun.

You held her gaze for a second, biting your trembling lip. "Okay. Thank you."

She had you sit on the floor and gently untied your hair from your bobble. She brushed through it with patience and softness you hadn’t seen from Mapi before, despite knowing her for years. She ran the brush through your long hair and then french braided each side, brining it into a braided ponytail. It took her about ten minutes, making you both the last in the room as all the girls had gone out onto the pitch.

Mapi handed you a makeup wipe, not saying anything, not telling you to use it, just letting you know it was there. You smiled at her gently and washed off your racoon eyes before walking out together.

You got into your car after training, feeling exhausted and annoyed. You took out your phone from your bag and opened it, noticing the missed calls from Leah. Concerned for her well being, you quickly called her back as you started the car up. "Leah! Are you okay?" you asked as she picked up the phone. "I’m fine. Are you okay? I called Lucy to talk about the lionesses roster and she mentioned you came to practice looking like you had been crying. What’s wrong?" Leah said.

You cursed Lucy internally before answering. "Listen… I’m fine. Im okay," you said, trying to sound convincing. "You’re not. I’m booking a flight to come over," Leah said. "Leah! You don’t have too," you said. "Tomorrow at 5:00. I’ll be there tomorrow at 5:00 baby." Leah told you.

Shit. How were you going to tell her that you felt as though she didn’t love you enough to tell people you were with her. Oh hey Leah, do you love me or are you embarrassed of me because you’re the love of my-

Your thought was interrupted by Leah, having forgotten you were on a call. "Okay my love. I can’t wait."

Lie.

"I’ll see you soon."

You sat on your couch, staring at the door defiantly. You were waiting for a knock to echo on your door, Leah having told you not to pick her up as it would mean leaving training early.

And then, it came. You were already frozen, but someone your body seized up more. You stood up robotically and opened the door. "Y/n/n…" Leah said, dropping her backpack and wrapping her arms around you. The way her body felt against yours made you want to shut up and not tell her how much her actions were hurting you. And when she pulled away briefly to kiss you, that desire was fuelled even more.

But reality struck.

You had flown her from England to Barcelona, you couldn’t tell her it was nothing. "What’s wrong. Why we’re you crying at training?" Leah said, rubbing her arms on your forearms as she looked into your eyes. You bit your lip, wanting to loose yourself in her.

"Leah do you love me. Genuinely. Do you love me?" You asked her. Leah’s face dropped and she tried to come closer to you but you backed away. "Jesus. Yes. Of course I do. You mean the world to me," Leah said, looking at you with hurt puppy eyes. "Then why the hell wont you tell anyone about us. It’s been a year! Are you that fucking embarrassed of me? I don’t get it."

Leahs lips parted in confusion before her face twisted in disgust. "You know nothing. I am so in love with you and you are not aloud to let me come here just to start accusing me of this bullshit! How could you!? I don’t want to keep our relationship secret because i’m embarrassed of you!" Leah yelled, making tears form in your eyes. "Then why?! Why, Leah?"

Leahs chest heaved up and down and she was now crying as well. You had never fought before.

"I don’t- I don’t want to make you cry. I’m sorry," you cried out yourself, putting your hands on the counter and hanging your head. "You want to know why I don’t want to tell anyone? I don’t want to tell my friends because they’re really close with Jordan and I don’t ever want them to think I didn’t care about her. And I also don’t want them to think you’re a rebound that’s lasting a little long because you’re not. Because I love you more tons anything in this world. You are the love of my life. And I don’t want to tell the public because they were… are… obsessed with me and Jordan. And I’m scared they’ll hate on you. You don’t deserve that. That’s why I’ve been wanting to keep it a secret. No other reason, do you hear me?" Leah said.

She had inched closer to you and her hand was now on your back, doing the thing that calmed you down the most. She slipped her hand under your shirt and grazed her nails up and down your spine. "Shit," you groaned, using the palm of your right hand to wipe your cheeks. "I’m an asshole," you whispered, loud enough for her to hear. "You’re not. I am. I was trying to protect you but I didn’t realize that I was hurting you more than I was protecting you," Leah said, grabbing your hands in hers and making her look at you. "I don’t care what people say about us. Our friends will be happy for us. And not all the fans are… obsessive. Most of them are amazing. And we get hate whether we’re publicly dating someone or not," you said, cupping her cheeks with your hands and rubbing a stray tear off her cheek. "You’re right. And that’s why I’m gonna do this," Leah said.

She pulled out her phone and opened instagram. She clicked on her story and scrolled through her camera roll, choosing a picture of you and her kissing at the top of a mountain you had both hiked together.

One year with you 💓 fooled everyone, didn’t we my love?

She wrote those words as you laughed at them. She looked at you and nodded, and then posted the story.

The next 24 hours were crazy. Your phone blew up ridiculously from texts of your friends and fan accounts tagging you in things.

You reposted Leah’s story do your own, writing:

Never getting enough of you 🤭💋

#woso fic #woso imagine #woso x reader #woso #arsenal fcw #leah williamson #barca femeni #mapi leon #ingrid engen #ona batlle #espwnt

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forfucksakesniall · 1 year

Text

"In His Loving Arms"

Pairing: Lewis Hamilton x Reader

Summary: Feeling sick and receives a message from her busy boyfriend, Lewis Hamilton, who rushes to her side to comfort her.

Word Count: 354

A/N: first ever fic written. hope you guys enjoy.

Masterlist

You wake up feeling achy and unwell. Your head throbs with a sharp pain that feels like tiny hammers pounding inside your skull. You reach for your phone with a trembling hand, intending to cancel your appointments when a message from your boyfriend, Lewis Hamilton, pops up.

"Hey beautiful, how's your day going?"

You smile through the discomfort, your heart swelling with warmth. Despite his busy schedule, Lewis always makes time for you. You reply, "Not so great, I'm feeling a bit sick."

Almost immediately, he replies, "I'll be there in 15 minutes. Just rest, okay?"

"No, its fine I'll just-" you try to finish your sentence, but he ends the call right away.

You feel grateful for Lewis's presence but guilty for taking him away from his important race. As promised, he arrives within fifteen minutes, dressed in his team gear and sunglasses. He looks handsome as ever, but his eyes hold a hint of concern as he asks, "Hey, how are you feeling?"

"Not great," you admit, feeling tears prick your eyes. "My head hurts so bad."

Lewis sits down beside you on the bed, taking your hand in his. "I'm sorry you're feeling like this. Is there anything I can do?"

You shake your head, feeling touched by his care and concern. Lewis seems to understand as he leans in and wraps his arms around you. His embrace is warm and comforting, and you lean into him.

The scent of his cologne wafts over you, and you feel the soft texture of his team shirt against your cheek. Lewis strokes your hair gently, murmuring soothing words. You feel safe and protected in his arms and soon drift off to sleep.

When you wake up, Lewis is still holding you close. He has changed into more comfortable clothes after his race. He looks so relaxed, as if he wasn't driving a car really fast. The love he shows you makes your heart feel like it could burst.

You look up at him and softly say, "Thank you for staying."

"Of course," Lewis says, smiling. "I want to take care of you."

He gets up to make you a cup of tea, and you hear the sound of the kettle boiling in the kitchen. The sound is like music to your ears, and you sit up on the bed, feeling weak but content.

When Lewis returns with the tea, you take it gratefully, sipping it slowly. He sits down beside you again, looking at you with tender affection.

"You know," he says softly. "I'm glad I can take care of you for once."

You smile, feeling your heart swell with love for him.

"It feels so good to be loved by you," you say.

"I love you too," Lewis says, leaning in to kiss you.

As your lips meet, a soft sigh escapes your throat. You can feel the heat emanating from his body, his arms wrapped tightly around you as you melt into his embrace.

The scent of his cologne fills your nostrils, a heady mixture that makes you feel weightless, like you're floating on a cloud. The soft sound of your lips meeting, a symphony of pleasure that resonates through your entire being. The gentle, rhythmic movements of your mouths are synchronized, like you have been made for each other.

His skin is warm and smooth against yours, the contrast sending shivers down your spine. Every touch, every caress is like an electric shock, sending a wave of pleasure through your body.

The kiss seems to last forever, and yet it is over too soon. As you pull away, you feel a sense of longing, wanting nothing more than to stay in his arms forever.

Suddenly, a wave of dizziness washes over you. You try to steady yourself, but your head is spinning and your body feels weak. He notices your discomfort and quickly lays you down on the bed, his hand holding yours tightly. You can feel his concern radiating off of him as he gently strokes your face.

"I think I need to lie down again," you murmur, your voice barely above a whisper.

He helps you lie back on the pillows, tucking the blankets around you. He looks deeply into your eyes. You can see the love and concern reflected in them, and you know that he will always be there for you, no matter what. Tears well up in your eyes, and you can't help but feel overwhelmed by his kindness and love. You reach out and pull him into a tight embrace, burying your face in his chest.

He wraps his arms around you, holding you close and letting you know that you are safe and loved. You can feel the steady beat of his heart against yours, and it is like a calming rhythm that soothes your troubled mind.

With a sense of peace and contentment, you close your eyes and drift off to sleep, knowing that you are in the safest and most loving place in the world - In His Arms.

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apomaro-mellow · 28 days

Text

Family Planning 1/?

Steddie; omegaverse; omega!steve x alpha!eddie

It's time for the ole flour baby project and who should Eddie get paired up with but none other than high school royalty Steve? They both need this grade to graduate but can they get through it without tearing the bag to shreds?

Read on AO3

Steve woke up to his alarm, rushing out of bed. His morning routine, however, was not rushed. The radio sounded as he stood in front of his bathroom mirror. Guitar riffs filled his head as he washed, brushed, and dried. He put on a red sweater, fall was finally kicking in and he felt it. With a quick goodbye to his parents, he got in his car and drove off to pick up his friends, Tommy and Carol.

Carol walked out of her front door. Tommy scaled down from Carol’s window. Steve only shook his head as they both got inside.

“How do your parents not know?”, Steve asked Carol.

“She knows how to keep things quiet”, Tommy winked at her from the front seat.

“Yeah, I just gag him every night. He loves it”, Carol pinched his cheek and withdrew her hand before he could swat it away.

They pulled up to the school as other students were arriving. There was still five minutes until homeroom which meant they had about twenty minutes before they had to get to class. So they took their positions, leaning against the car, talking about whatever drifted to their minds.

“Davidson is already staring me down like he knows I’m gonna fail”, Tommy said.

“Maybe he wouldn’t glare so much if you didn’t put a thumbtack in his chair”, Carol pointed out.

“He shouldn’t be such a buzzkill, right Steve?”

“His punishment fits the crime”, Steve agreed. “Davidson can’t touch you anyways.”

Carol smirked. “Yeah, your solid D streak makes you untouchable.”

“Why’s this woman always gotta give me grief Steve? Why can’t we just ditch her?”

Steve rolled his eyes but was smiling. “You forget, Carol came first. If anyone’s getting ditched, it’s you.”

Before Tommy could retort, a van roared into the parking lot, chaotic music playing too loud to discern most of the melody. It stopped abruptly and the driver excited just as quickly, slamming the door.

“Desperate for attention, much?”, Carol remarked.

Eddie Munson. A guy with all the bad markings of an alpha: loud, brash, hard headed, and just a general nuisance. Not wanting to cross paths with him, Steve led the way inside. He went out of his way to avoid Eddie’s van but unfortunately, the rest of his weird club was at the door and suddenly, Eddie was there, shouting at the rest of the members, causing Steve to wince. And that little movement was all it took to get his attention.

“My apologies, your highness, for inconveniencing your ear drums”, he gave a deep bow.

Steve rolled his eyes and went past. Steve had been one of the first of their senior class to present, doing so literally the first semester of freshman year. When he returned to school, smelling of cinnamon and vanilla, he had been dubbed ‘princess’ and the nickname stuck to senior year.

Living in a big house with parents who gave you everything you wanted didn’t help matters. Steve took it in stride. His classmates were willing to do a lot for their princess. Like Tommy shoving Eddie so they could get through the door.

“God, what a sleaze. What’re the chances of him actually graduating this year?”, Tommy wiped his arm like it was actually dirtied.

“As likely as you making it above a C average in Davidson’s”, Steve snarked.

—-----------------------

Eddie held the grin, even through the comment about his graduation status. Last year wasn’t it but second time was the charm, as they said. Still, it didn’t mean he was going to become a model student. Which was why he never went to homeroom. He skipped English on occasion too. But Home Economics, he usually tuned in to. There was a 50/50 chance they’d be cooking something and Eddie would get to poach tastes from his partner’s cooking.

He burst in just as Ms. Engels was in the process of getting the class to settle from their pre-lunch antsy-ness. He took his seat in the back, feet propped up on the back of the chair in front of him.

“Alright, children, listen! Today we are beginning a project that will take not just the rest of this semester, but also into the next”, Ms. Engels began, starting a wave of groans.

Steve was only half paying attention. Whatever project, he was sure he could lean on his partner to get it done. Home Ec was definitely still in the dark ages of family planning, putting most of the home-oriented things on the omega, but it was the 20th century. Omegas could go into the workplace, get high profile jobs, and didn’t need to just sit at home and pop out babies.

Then Ms. Engels put a sack of flour on her desk. With a little pink beanie on top. Steve’s stomach dropped.

“It’s time class, for the ‘family’ part of family planning.”

She went into detail about the assignment. That they would be paired appropriately according to their secondary gender and that they would need to keep a detailed log of when they fed the baby and changed it and who watched over it.

“Take note of how much formula and diapers cost. And the more in-depth you report, the greater chance of a high grade. As a couple, if you would like to give any updates during class, I would encourage it.”

Then she took out a list, announcing the couples and gesturing for one to come up and grab one of the many sacks of flour set in a box and to grab a beanie in either blue or pink. As she went down the list and choices got eliminated, Steve felt a sense of dread. The same feeling was coming over Eddie as he realized the same thing Steve did.

This was one of the few periods he didn’t share with Tommy or Carol. Dammit, as incessant as Tommy might’ve been, him being a beta meant they could’ve been paired together. But that wasn’t the reality right now.

“Aaron Hall and Cathy Mansley. Steven Harrington and Edward Munson.”

Steve was frozen in place. There was no way. No way in hell that he had to pretend to be a parent with Munson of all people. Eddie was frozen too, but only for a second before he shot up and strutted up to the teacher’s desk. He hefted a bag of flour into his arms and stretched a hat across its head, a pink one.

“She’s got your eyes honey bun~”, Eddie winked at Steve, causing snickers and giggles.

Steve scoffed but ignored him otherwise as Ms. Engels directed them to fill out the first form she gave them about name, sex, date of birth, the weight of the baby, as well as the names of the sire and the dame. Eddie pulled his chair right up to Steve’s desk, determined not to be ignored.

“So what are we gonna name our precious gift from above?”

“You decide. I don’t really care”, Steve said, barely sparing him a glance.

Eddie gasped dramatically and covered the pretend ears of their offspring. “How can you say something so cruel? And after she came from your own loins.”

Steve cringed. “Don’t talk about my loins Munson.”

“Okay, fair. In all serious though, I need to get a good grade on this project”, Eddie said.

The bell rang, saving Steve from another second of this. “Sounds like you better buckle up, pops. Can’t be a good example if high school takes you three times.”

Steve stayed long enough to watch the alpha’s face drop and then walked out of the room to his next class. Steve thought he’d made it clear that Eddie was on his own with this assignment. What was the point in playing pretend? Steve wasn’t having kids for a long time.

So he wasn’t impressed when Eddie stepped right up to his lunch table, that bag of flour under his arm like he was carrying books and not a child.

“I don’t think I was making myself clear back in Engel’s”, Eddie started.

“What’s he talking about?”, Tommy asked.

“Oh holy shit”, Carol’s face broke out in a smile so wide, “You’re doing that project with Eddie Munson?”

“You want the whole cafeteria to hear?”, Steve hissed. It went unbidden as Carol laughed and Tommy snickered. “I figured you could handle it. This isn’t your first time, right?”

Eddie set their unnamed flour pup onto the table. “Last year she did the nutrition diary, so I’m new to fatherhood. And you’re gonna need to shape up, mother dearest.”

“Ugh, don’t call me that”, Steve groaned.

“Father dearest, then?” There was a new wave of male omegas who preferred to be called dad over mom, and Eddie could respect that.

“Gag me.”

“Tempting, but I think Engels will have a problem if only one parent reports. And I have no problem telling her I did the brunt of the work.”

Steve raised a brow. “Is that a threat?”

“It’s a warning, Harrington.”

Tommy stood up then. “Back off trash!”

He shoved Eddie and multiple things happened at once. Eddie tried to grab for the table or something and instead grabbed the flour. He fell backward into someone, making them dump their lunch on his head, and the bag of flour flew, landing heavily on Principal Woolsley in a spectacular explosion of white.

“MUNSON! MY OFFICE! NOW!”

If Steve thought he was off the hook, he was sorely mistaken. While Eddie was hauled off to the office, he was able to keep his head down for a while. But Eddie must’ve snitched because Ms. Van Dorf in the office called his name on the intercom to come to the principal’s office.

Eddie was still sitting in one of the chairs, unidentifiable foodstuffs in his hair. Mr. Woolsley had gotten most of the flour off of himself, with only a light dusting on his shoulders. Ms. Engels was also present.

“I’ve been informed of the project your class is undergoing. Bags of flour don’t grow on trees”, Woolsley said, hands folded on his desk.

“Hey, even I can afford a bag of flour”, Eddie said. “What’s the damage? A dollar?”

“That’s not the point, Mr. Munson. What happened in the lunch room was a flagrant display of irresponsibility”, Ms. Engels said.

“I’m not the one being irresponsible”, Eddie looked to Steve who was still standing by the door.

“You two are going to show Ms. Engels that you deserve another chance at this project”, Woolsley started. “You have until the end of the week to show her your dedication and earn another sack of flour.”

“How are we supposed to do that?”, Steve asked, arms crossed.

“Get creative. Oh and detention for you both today. They need help in the theatre department”, Woolsley said before dismissing them.

Eddie shoved past Steve to get to a bathroom and wash his hair. Steve spent the rest of the day talking off his friend’s ears about the whole ordeal and by the time detention came, he was ready to rip him apart and let them both flunk this class. But unfortunately, Steve needed this grade as much as Eddie. He was only taking senior year one time, thank you very much.

He walked into the storage room as directed by the head of the department and found Eddie already there, sorting fabrics. Steve was determined to ignore him, getting right to work rifling through a box of paints and tossing ones that were either empty or bone dry.

Eddie spoke up after a whopping five minutes of silence. “So, any ideas on how to earn the favor of our warden?”

“We were told to get creative. I figured that was more your speed”, Steve said.

Eddie grinned. “I’ve been known to dabble in the creative arts. But I admit, my mind is drawing a blank. How to appear as a responsible parent? To be quite honest, I don’t have a lot of experience with those.”

“What about your uncle?”, Steve asked.

“...How do you know my uncle?”

Steve looked up from his box. “It’s a small town, Munson.”

“Yeah, well, you got me there.” His Uncle Wayne was a pretty nice role model. Decent, hard working. If Eddie was half the caretaker he was, any future kid or bag of food would be in good hands. “What about you?”

“Me?”, Steve said before shrugging. “My parents are fine. Kinda assholes sometimes, but what parent isn’t?”

“Do they dote on you like the rest of the royal court?”

“The wha-stop, I’m not the princess everyone thinks I am.”

“You’re avoiding the question”, Eddie pointed out.

“I don’t know if doting is the word, but they’re parents. They give me what I want sometimes. And what I need.”

“Well, that’s what we have to prove if we want another chance”, Eddie sighed. “But how the hell are we supposed to be doting parents to a kid we don’t have?”

Steve shrugged when just a half second through the motion, he had an epiphany. “Wait! We don’t have a kid yet!”

“Uh, yeah, that’s what I just said. Keep up Harrington.”

“No, we don’t have a kid yet”, Steve repeated, getting to his feet and moving closer to Eddie like proximity would make him easier to understand.

“I feel like I’m not high enough for this conversation we’re having.”

“What if-hear me out-what if we put on like we’re expecting parents?”, Steve suggested.

Eddie wasn’t sure where he was leaning on that idea, when he looked past Steve at something that had to have been put there by fate. A fake stomach for when someone had to act as a pregnant person during a school play.

“Oh this is either gonna be really stupid or really funny.”

Steve followed his sight and blushed a little, then turned back to Eddie. “I don’t see why it can’t be both.”

Part 2

#apo writes #stranger things #steddie #omegaverse #a/b/o

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bitten-fruit · 4 months

Text

you invite him inside

It's Summer 2007, and you're on your way home from a party in Edinburgh. You encounter an exceptionally forward Scottish stranger with a buzzed head and a brow ring, calling himself Soap - you roll the dice, and let him walk you home.

18+ MDNI - cw: reader is drunk - 5k words

tags: Indie Sleaze(!!) Johnny 'Soap' Mactavish x f!Reader, teasing & denial, flirting & banter

a/n: this is (some) of the first chapter of my longfic Trainspotting on A03, bitterfruit. I thought I'd share on here since I'm working on a part 2!! ♡

You carve through the beating crowd of the house party; sloshing drinks and drunken hands intercept you as you attempt to navigate your way to the front door. MGMT’s Kids thunders from the speakers in the hallway, its deafening volume only exacerbated by the passionate chanting of the dancers that hover around it.

Control yourself! Take only what you neeeed from it!

Your friend Katie, who had brought you as a plus-one, had long disappeared with some boy she had been all over - taking your coat with her - leaving you to make your way home in nothing but your needlessly skimpy playboy bunny costume.

Finally stumbling out of the dense jungle of partygoers, you burst through the front door as if you’d just been birthed, sweaty and panting.

Just a fifteen-minute walk.

With your arms crossed, you trudge down the steps in the stiletto pumps you had borrowed from Katie – glossy, sharp, and a size too small. Fuck, they ache. Before you even make it past the gate, you throw in the towel and unstuff your feet from their latex trappings; holding the shoes with two fingers hooked at the heels, doing your best to avoid stepping on the broken glass on the footpath.

As your distance from the house party grows and the echoes of Paper Planes begin to fade, it dawns on you that you’re far drunker than you had believed yourself to be. Being surrounded by students two boxes and three pingers deep has the tendency to make you feel staunchly sober by comparison.

Still, you feel the slabs of concrete wobbling beneath your feet, your head starts to spin like you’ve stepped off a carousel if you shut your eyes for too long. The streets are utterly quiet, devoid of cars or people, despite the neighbourhood’s proximity to the CBD. You may well have found it off-putting if you were sober, but in truth, you’re just thanking Christ there’s nobody around to see you trotting down the road in nothing but a bodysuit and fishnets. You imagine a car might pull up alongside you, rolling slowly on its wheels as the driver asks through his window, “how much for an hour?”

And that would almost be preferable to what you actually encounter once you’re halfway home – crossing the street, stumbling in your bare feet as you walk past shops with steel shutters blocking their doors and windows.

You hear the distinctive thuds of sprinting feet from far behind you; the soles of sneakers slamming hard on the footpath, in a rapid enough pace that the person might as well be an Olympian runner. As they get louder, closer, your first instinct is to flee – but before you even have the chance to turn to look over your shoulder, the sprinter has come to a screeching halt beside you, tearing off their jacket and tossing it over your shoulders as if it were a cape.

“What the fu–” You yelp, hastily cut short.

“Shh – shut up, pretend y’know me.”

A man, and a local, evidently – the kind of Scottish accent so thick you can barely distinguish the beginning of one word from the end of another.

“Get away fr–”

He interrupts you once again, tossing an arm over your shoulder as he walks alongside you, shoving his other fist into the pocket of his loose black jeans. “Please, lassie, do me a favour and just go with it.”

Amidst his breathlessness he sounds quite desperate – voice deep and warm, oozing sincerity despite the edge in his tone. So you weigh your options, whether or not to trust him, or to help him, or to scream and flee. You tilt your head just enough to take a peek at him; he hunches over, shoulders shrugging high as if keeping his neck warm, head low like it might hide his buzzcut from whoever may be chasing him.

You quickly discover that there are, in fact, people chasing him – more echoes from further down the road of multiple sets of running feet. You hear an enraged roar from a man behind you; your body tenses on instinct, head twisting further in the hopes of checking how close they are to you.

“Don’t look at ‘em,” he instructs you pointedly, under his breath.

More indistinguishable yelling erupts from his pursuers, though they no longer seem to be approaching. “Cheap fucken’ trick, ye fucken’ coward!”

“Keep walkin’ with me,” he mutters, tugging you along with his heaving arm draped around the back of your neck, forcing you to accelerate so that you can keep up with him.

Adrenaline throbbing hotly in your ears, you try to steal glances at the controlling stranger, not able to see much of him in your periphery. You realise now that the gifting of his jacket was not a chivalrous gesture, but a failed attempt to trick his pursuers. “Sounds like they’ve spotted you,” you whisper-yell, facing ahead.

“Aye,” he grunts, “but they won’t touch me if there’s a witness.”

“I don’t want to be a witness,” you squeak, nervous terror in your throat.

He chuckles breathily, gives a single shake of his head. “Too late.”

“Next time I see ye, yer a fucken’ dead man, hear me? With or without yer hoor!”

The stranger groans as he scoops you around a corner, keeping a hurried pace, shooting looks over his shoulder to ensure he’s no longer being followed. Fortunately – or, unfortunately – this was the corner you would have taken anyway.

“Did he just call me a whore?” You whisper, still in shock.

He chortles at you again, sliding his weighty arm from your shoulders and releasing you at long last. “Ignore ‘em. Fucken' wankers.”

You finally have the opportunity to turn around fully to check behind you, seeing only empty, silent street.

“They won’t follow us,” he assures you, still walking alongside you, arrogant in his assumption that you won’t tell him to fuck off.

But you don’t, not yet. “Why – why were they chasing you?”

“Nosy wee thing, aren’t ye?” He smiles, crossing his arms, and you finally get a good look at him.

Hair buzzed short, the sort of job he likely did himself over his sink with an electric clipper plugged into the wall. A curved barbel pierces through the tail of his left eyebrow, almost as flashy as the sharp grey eyes pointing down at you from beneath it. His grin pushes dimples into his densely stubbled cheeks, revealing charmingly crooked teeth, and a golden crown on his right canine.

There’s something tired, jaded about him, dark eyes and low brows; face speckled with a variety of little scars, one white slash through his right eyebrow, a few pink lines carving over his temple and through his shaven scalp.

You blink, reminding yourself to speak.

“Nosy?” You snap, “you brought me into this!”

He tilts his head, appearing to acquiesce. “Aye, true. They’re just mad ‘cos I short-changed ‘em.”

As he shrugs, the hem of his cropped t-shirt tugs up on his stomach, revealing the hem of plaid boxers sticking out from his baggy trousers, a sliver of firm abdomen, a dusting of curly hair trailing down from his navel. You swallow.

“Hm. For what?” You pester.

“Now yer bein’ nosy.”

You huff, crossing your arms underneath the cape of his jacket, checking over your shoulder one last time to be certain you’re no longer being stalked.

“Fine,” you pout. After a beat of silence, you decide to add; “I’m not a prostitute, by the way.”

He snickers hoarsely, “’course not. Prostitutes are much more subtle. You’d be the first I’ve ever seen dressed as a – a what, a bunny?”

He reaches behind you, the cocky prick, lifting the back of his cloaking jacket and flicking the puffball pinned to your ass. You gawk at him, a surge of adrenaline buzzing within your chest – curious, that it’s not out of fear but fascination.

“See a lot of prostitutes, do you?” You sneer, noting how briefly his gaze lingers on your backside before it flits to your face.

“Not ‘round this side of town,” he chortles. You suspect he’s joking, but who’s to say? “So… why a bunny?”

“Playboy bunny,” you correct him, turning your head to glance at him; he just looks bewildered. “Pimps and hoes party.”

He laughs, richly, lurching forward as he does. “Ha! Had no idea they still did those.”

“Sure do,” you say, failing to suppress your grin. “Too old for them, are you?”

“Aye, for house parties full o’ students,” he admits, “but not too old to party. M’only twenty-six.”

You smile. “Good for you.”

“Got no girlie-mates to walk ye home?” He changes the subject.

Peeking at him, you squint. “You’re not supposed to ask a girl if she’s alone, you know.”

“Oh,” he frowns, “why’s that?”

“Like, stranger danger.”

“Yeah?” He chuckles deeply. “Do you think I’m dangerous?”

You turn to look at him, running your eyes from his cocksure grin, down to his Chucks and back again. He certainly looks the part. Rough around the edges. You wonder if you would have avoided him, had he not approached you so blithely.

“Very,” you nod. “Plus, you’re following me.”

“Am I?” He jibes, “well, love, if ye want me to leave y’alone, tell me and I’ll try to leave ye be.”

Your pout shifts into a girlish smirk despite your dire efforts to contain it. “You’ll try?”

“Mm. Might be easier said than done,” he ribs, leering down at you. Your quiet titter only serves to embolden him. “It’s probably for the best that I found ye.”

“You reckon?”

“Mm. Not very bright o’ye to be walking home by yerself at this hour. And in that.”

You click your tongue impatiently. “You sound like my mum.”

“Then she’s a smart woman,” he says, with a sternness that leaves you taken aback.

You peer up at him, scrutinising. For fuck’s sake, you curse at yourself, get a grip. All better judgement, your guardian angel, screams at you to stop flirting with this bizarre studded stranger and hurry your ass home. But the little devil on your other shoulder is far more interested in seeing how this unusual interaction plays out.

“You gonna protect me, are ya?” You probe.

“Naturally,” he chuffs.

“Walking me home, then?”

A devilish grin stretches in his lips. “Happily.”

“Promise you’re not a psychopath or something?”

He inhales deeply, blowing a raspberry as he puts his hands on his hips. “No promises.”

“Mm. Well, I shouldn’t be surprised,” you say, “only psychopaths would roam the streets at three-a.m.”

“Yeah? What does that make you?”

You giggle. “Shit. You got me.”

“You bet I do. What kind of psycho wears a fucken’ outfit like that ‘on the streets at 3-a.m.’?”

Taking a peek down at yourself, you’re confronted immediately by your obnoxious cleavage, unsure how you could have forgotten it was there. You decide to slip your arms into the roomy sleeves of his jacket, wearing it properly rather than as a cloak – much warmer.

“What’s wrong with it?” You wonder in jest, feigning offence.

“Yer jokin’.” He scoffs.

“What?” You gaze at him, with a cock of your brow; he unashamedly glowers at you, vibrantly grey eyes raking from your lips to your feet before climbing back to your stare.

He huffs petulantly. “I could see yer tits from across the street,” he murmurs, “don’t make me say something about the stockings.”

You laugh coyly, feeling your cheeks burn hot and red. Seems like you got the answer you wanted. “S’that why you ran up to me, huh?”

He shakes his head. “Nae. That was just dumb luck.”

“Ah. Lucky you.”

“Mhm,” he rumbles, voice low, “very lucky.”

Why is your heart fluttering? Why are you suddenly hanging on his every word like a fucking teenage girl? You blame the cherry-flavoured RTDs you were knocking back every ten minutes while you were at that party. They’ve made your cheeks all pink and your tongue all wet.

Yet in the current quiet, strolling nonchalantly down an empty street at half-past three in the morning, you don’t feel any awkwardness in the silence. You just smile at your feet like an idiot.

“What’s yer name, then?” He asks casually, both fists in his pockets.

You hum in thought, “hmm. I can’t tell you that.”

“Oh? Why not?”

“You’re a stranger, remember?”

“So?” He disputes, grinning and playfully biting his bottom lip with his top teeth, brandishing that glistening golden canine.

You shake your head. “Who knows what you could do with my name! You could be a stalker for all I know,” you explain defensively, “you might find out where I work on MySpace, or something.”

He snickers. “Wouldn’t need MySpace to figure that out, lass.”

Frowning, you give him a disapproving smirk. “You’re proving my point.”

“Ye really won’t tell me?”

“Nope.”

He huffs disappointedly. “Alright, then, I’ll just have to call ye the bunny I found on the street.”

“Fine by me,” you declare proudly. “What can I call you, then? The playboy?”

With a chuckle, he purses his lips in contemplation. “The playboy to yer bunny, I like that,” he says. “But, pals call me Soap.”

“Soap?” You question incredulously, “seriously?”

“Aye. If I can’t have yer name, y'can’t have mine.”

You snort. “Is it meant to be ironic?”

“Can’t be,” he refutes, quick to detect your insult, “I’m clean as a whistle.”

As you open your mouth to offer back some snippy response, you spot your mailbox, number eighteen, three terraced townhouses down – you had lost track of how long the walk was, your charming stranger having sponged up every last drop of your attention.

You find yourself disappointed, unjustifiably; you even consider, briefly, not mentioning that you had arrived home just so you can keep walking with him. God, you’re pathetic.

But imagining yourself having to eventually turn around, having to admit that you purposefully missed your stop – you begrudgingly decide to be a good girl and put yourself to bed.

“This is me,” you say flatly, slowing your steps before you come to a stop.

“Ah,” he stops beside you and rocks on the balls of his feet. “Bugger.”

“Yeah,” you sigh, mindlessly slipping your hands into the pockets of his jacket, preceding a reluctant silence. “Well, um... thanks for walking me home. Who knows what danger I could’ve gotten into.”

He waves away your jocose gratitude. “Oh, ‘course,” he says, “had to make sure ye didn’t get tricked into a chase by some strange gadgie.”

You snicker. “Oh, yeah. That would be terrifying.”

Crossing his arms, her gives you a wide but wistful grin. “Alright. I’ll leave you to it, hen.”

“Okay,” you nod, chewing your lip, you feel something in his pocket – rolling it between your fingers, feels like a wad of paper. Cash? A receipt? You start to wonder what he might have ‘short-changed’ those thugs for. Don’t be nosy. “Oh – your jacket.”

As you slip it off your shoulders, he disputes; “don’t wanna keep it as a memento?”

You chuckle, frowning, shaking your head in bemusement. Memento? What a peculiar bloke. “No. It sorta smells.”

“Bollocks,” he retorts, reaching to take the jacket from you – a brown leather bomber, now that you can see it properly. “I smell divine.”

God, he does. Like patchouli and sweat and leather; some sort of earthy masculine concoction, the kind of scent that’s probably entirely accidental – underpinned, you note, by something strangely chemical, like he had just taken a walk through a hospital. Still, so delightfully distinct from the stench of Axe body spray that the boys at your university gassed themselves with daily.

You pass him the bomber, shivering once your scantily clad body is once again exposed to the chilly air of the night. He’s quite shameless, this stranger, eyes almost bulging as they comb brazenly over you – legs, hips, tits – finally getting a good look at you, he takes his time.

“Eyes up here, playboy,” you chide.

He smirks, piercing gaze jumping to yours while his head remains tilted down; you’re almost intimidated the intensity of his eye contact from under his brow. “Aye. They’re just as pretty.”

“Alright, alright,” you giggle, face glowing hot. “I’d better turn in.”

“Yes, you’d better.”

Before you bring yourself to turn around, his hand reaches toward you, plucking the bunny-eared headband from the top of your head.

“Oi!” You bark, smoothing your disturbed hair; watching in confusion as he meticulously sits them on his head, flicking one of the fuzzy white ears with a pleased grin stretched in his lips.

“I want a memento,” he explains boldly. “Never know when I'm dreamin’ these days.”

You stare at him in bewilderment, amused and oddly endeared. He slips on his jacket, stuffing his hands into his pockets and shrugging it over his shoulders.

“Fine, all yours,” you capitulate, smiling meekly, once again letting a pregnant silence linger while you resist a goodbye. “Um. Alright. Goodnight. Soap.”

He nods. “G’night, wee bunny.”

You nod, too, finally turning on your bare feet and walking up the stairs of your flat’s brick stoop. Fumbling around in your handbag, you pluck out your keys – jingling loudly with all of your various keychains as you unlock the painted white door.

You hear his footsteps as he strolls away, slowly, growing duller as the distance grows. You find yourself frozen in the open doorway, staring into the dark abyss of your foyer, facing solitude. Bouncing in dispute with yourself, you exert all strength to bite your tongue. Don’t be stupid, don’t be stupid, don’t be stupid.

He starts to whistle, some obscure tune from just down the street, as if he is purposefully reminding you he’s still in earshot – a smug little prompt.

Fuck it.

Spinning around to face the road, you lean out of the door, and call out; “Hey!”

As though he had expected it, he stops in his tracks, twirling on his heel to face you with his hands still in his pockets. Had lit himself a cigarette already, in the thirty seconds since you had bid him farewell.

“Hm? Want the ears back after all?”

“Um–” You scramble to come up with an excuse. “Those guys won’t be looking for you, will they?”

He grins. “Oh, they could well be.”

“What’ll they do if they find you?”

“Who knows,” he huffs. “Probably kill me. Might gimme one o’ those Glasgow smiles.”

“That would be pretty terrible,” you remark solemnly.

“Aye. It sure would.”

You chew the inside of your cheek, battling with your drunken little demon. “Maybe you should hide out here for the night.” You daft bitch.

“Hm,” he ponders aloud, sauntering slowly back towards your stairs, squinting in thought. “Sounds like a bad idea.”

“How come?” You challenge, tapping the inside of the doorframe with shy fingers.

He creeps up your short footpath. “Never know what might happen.”

Your lips curl into an impish smirk. “That’s the best part.”

He laughs, plucking the cigarette from his teeth, holding it between his thumb and forefinger. “How drunk are ye. On a scale one-through-ten.”

“Um,” you muse, biting your lip. “I’m not that drunk.”

“Well, hen, you must be steamed. ‘Cos that’s not a number.”

You snicker, then groan impatiently. “Four.”

“Only four, eh?” He asks dubiously, standing at the base of your stairs, he gazes up at you devilishly. “You gonna remember in the mornin’ that you asked me to come in?”

“’Course,” you say. “I want you to come inside.”

He sneers. Filthy boy. “Don’t wanna get in trouble,” he refutes.

“I want you to come in,” you insist, correcting your wording just slightly.

He hums, feigning deep thought, as if he hasn’t been hoping you’d ask. “Alright,” he surrenders. “Why not.”

You do your best to conceal your glee, nodding, grinning, you turn to step inside and you hear him follow you.

“Ye live alone?” He asks, as he looks around the empty hallway, shrouded in darkness.

Shutting the door behind you and locking it, you tut at him. “Still shouldn’t ask that.”

“You’ve already invited me in,” he jeers, “if you’re worried I’ll hurt ye, you’ve made it well easy for me.”

“I s’pose so,” you admit, smiling sheepishly as you go to switch on the light hanging in the centre of the foyer. Christ, it’s a tip – you and Katie are equally dishevelled, leaving shoes and lip gloss and hair ties and clothes in your wake wherever you venture. “Can’t be too careful,” you add – very aware of how uncareful you are being.

“Do I scare ye?” He asks coyly, taking a raffish drag of his cigarette.

“I dunno,” you answer frankly, leaning bashfully against your front door with your hands tucked behind you. “Should I be scared of you?”

“Mm,” he shrugs, “probably.”

You purse your lips and nod. “Stranger danger,” you remind yourself.

“I reckon you’re a lot more dangerous than me,” he grins.

You frown. “Why’s that?”

He puts his cigarette between his lips, holding it with a pinch, taking a puff as he eyes you scrupulously. “Look at you.”

You suck your bottom lip between your teeth. Fucking hell.

“I have a flatmate,” you finally answer his initial question, and change the subject. “But she’s not home tonight.”

“Good,” he says, milky smoke spilling from his smile.

“Um,” you make noises to fill your flustered silence. “Want to go upstairs?”

He cocks his eyebrows. “Lead the way.”

Pushing yourself from the door, you slip past him and trot up the staircase that sits flush with the panelled wall. The old oak creaks and moans under the weight of his heavy steps, he follows you steadily.

Rushing to get to your room before he can see it, you scuttle across to your bedroom door from the landing, hoping he ignores the kaleidoscope of peeling stickers you’ve tacked above the handle. You shove it open, quickly kicking aside a pair of twisted up panties you had left on your red shag rug.

In a blink he’s behind you, standing in the doorframe, a terrifyingly tall and bulky silhouette against the dim glow emerging from downstairs – made uniquely funny by the rabbit ears sticking up from his head.

You step over the piles of discarded outfit options and switch on the lamp by your bed; the yellow bulb glows coral pink from behind the vintage fabric lampshade. Looking back at him, he’s already perusing your room like it’s a museum.

He picks up and analyses the assortment of trinkets on your shelves and chest-of-drawers (old jewellery, empty lighters, some strange ceramic babies you once picked up at a flea market), and admires the mosaic of posters on your wall (Gorillaz, Feist, The Killers, MGMT, Arcade Fire, The Strokes, Peter Bjorn and John – careful cherry-picks of your favourite bands, in the hopes you’d one day impress some hot guy with taste as good as yours).

“Bit of an artiste, are ye?” He queries, nodding at the easel against your wall – housing a half-finished and long-hated painting of yours, an attempt at a masterwork copy of Monet; sitting amongst a bombsite of palettes, brushes in dirty cups, and curled-up tubes of oil paint.

“Guess so,” you answer. “It’s my degree.”

He leans into your hideous painting, taking a drag but careful not to stain the canvas with the smoke. “Still studying, then?”

“Yeah, uh, my Master’s.”

He nods. “If you’re already this good, what does a Master’s in painting get ye?”

You snort. “Good fuckin’ question.”

Feeling suddenly shy, you venture to busy yourself, electing to pull the curtains shut over your window.

You hear him chuckle while you aren’t looking. “What’s this?”

“What’s what?”

You spin on the ball of your foot, and freeze instantly – stare caught on your grape-coloured vibrator, held comfortably in the palm of his hand, he tosses it and catches it again. You had left it on your bed, a rookie mistake. You fucking idiot!

Your hand shoots to cover your mouth, fire burns white-hot behind your cheeks; but you can only giggle, humiliated. “Put that down,” you plead into your palm.

Ignoring you, he inspects it, quickly finding the button to turn it on; its buzzing rings out obnoxiously loud into the cripplingly awkward silence, forcing you to grimace. He doesn’t seem to find it awkward at all, holding the end of the purple rod into his other hand, curling his lips in disapproval as he evidently evaluates the vibration against his skin.

“Never understood why you girls like these things,” he remarks insouciantly.

“Please put it down,” you cry, staring at the ceiling as if it might hide you from the embarrassment.

He only sniggers. “Cannae compare to the real thing.”

You cover your eyes. “It fills the void,” you quietly admit.

He finally switches it off, but continues to fiddle with it as he ambles towards you. “Mustn’t do a very good job o’ that.”

Uncovering your face, finally, you jolt when you see how close he is to you – only a foot between you, you can feel the heat of him from where you stand. You do your utter best to prevent your eyes from jumping to the vibrator in his grip, but he still toys with it, as if just to taunt you.

“What makes you say that?”

He gazes down at you, lips stretched into a smug grin. “Why’d you invite me in, eh?”

You swallow, stifling a giggle – you look around capriciously, anywhere but his drilling stare. “Just wanted to help you out.”

“Help me out?” He interrogates you, inching forward, forcing you to step onto your back foot.

You’re suddenly short of breath. “I didn’t want you to get stabbed.”

He gleams that cheshire smile, suddenly his canines seem sharper. “You’re a bad liar, wee bunny.”

“Am I?” You utter, shambling back further has he continues to encroach.

“Took me to yer bedroom straight away… didn’t even offer me a drink…” he teases, “I’m thinkin’ ye want me to help you out.”

You feel a sudden bump as your back hits the door of your cupboard, shrinking as he leans over you, closing the gap. Your eyes catch on his lips as he again places his cigarette in between them, its smoke drifting softly over your face, your stare lingers.

“Dunno where you got that idea,” you breathe, entranced by the cloud that’s left in his mouth once he tugs the roll out again.

Don’t be stupid. Don’t be stupid. Don’t be stupid.

Ignoring any remaining shred of common sense, you step up on your tiptoes to slam your lips against his, sucking down the smoke lingering behind his teeth deep into your chest. He matches you with no hint of hesitation, leaning into you with the full weight of his body, you hear him finally drop the vibrator as it lands on the carpet with a dull thud.

Fuck, his tongue tastes good – like tobacco and peppermint chewing gum, soft and hungry as it writhes against yours. He does what he can with his one free hand, starting tastefully with a cup of your cheek, then a hold of the side of your neck, down to your shoulder – before plunging into a greedy handful of your breast, kneading it like dough.

His wet and eager lips drag along from yours, taking soft bites out of your cheek, hot tongue licking from your jaw to your neck, where he burrows his teeth. You let out a breathy whimper, fervid fingers clutch and claw at his chest through his t-shirt, using the fabric to pull him closer. His busy hand ventures along your waist, taking a palmful of your hip and tugging it only slightly towards him.

Impatient, ravenous, your fingers slither down his firm stomach to the waistband of his jeans, fumbling to get his button undone; you feel him smile against your skin, a breathy chuckle, before his other hand moves to stop you with a hold of your wrist.

He releases your neck from his maw, standing upright with a fucking cocky and self-satisfied grin plastered on his face. You let go of his button and return your hands to your sides, worried you’d been too eager, put him off with your fervour.

“Glad to know it’s this easy to get ye hot n’ bothered,” he drawls, taking another drag of what is now nearly just the butt.

“No idea what you mean,” you pant, utterly breathless, you sweep some stray hair from your forehead with your palm. “I’m not hot and bothered.”

“Aren’t you?” He goads, and the hand that clutches your hip sneaks towards your centre, prompting you to hold your breath; he snakes it over your mound, gliding it brazenly between your closed legs.

His shrewd eyes watch you, arrogantly, as he palms your aching pussy through the thin fabric of your bodysuit – under which you wore no panties, you wonder if he can feel how damp it is. He pushes a coaxing pressure against your covered clit with the heel of his palm, forcing you to whine in desperation; your insatiable hands return to his chest, balling the fabric of his t-shirt into your fists – and he only chortles.

“I could fry an egg on that,” he says.

And suddenly you snort, breaking into cackling laughter as you shove him away with both hands. “God, you’re disgusting!”

He laughs with you, proud of himself, he finally takes off the fucking bunny ears.

“I could hang a towel on that,” you jab, eyes suddenly caught on the frightening tent pitched in his roomy trousers. That can’t be real.

“You could hang a lot on it,” he agrees rakishly, chuckling, palming the length under his pants to tuck it away.

You try to contain your giggles as you push yourself upright, attempting to un-fluster yourself by smoothing your hair and wiping the dampness of his saliva from your neck. You feel the slippery wetness of your cunt with a step. “You’re evil,” you spit, still throbbing from his attention.

“Cannae fuck you yet,” he declares bluntly, turning to dump the end of his cigarette into your paintbrush cup full of brown water.

“Why not?” You pout, whingeing like a spoilt brat.

He returns with a debonair grin. “Gotta give you a reason to see me again.”

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