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cupid-styles · 8 months

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silk and rope

the long awaited ddlg harry and yn pairing has finally arrived!!!

some general disclaimers: I've never been in a relationship like this myself nor have I experimented too much with proper bdsm techniques, so there may be some things that are wrong in this!!!! I did research and tried my best to make it as accurate as possible but pls don't come for me if something isn't right ok thank yoooouuuuuu!!!!!!!

word count: 10.6k

content warnings: daddy dom and sub/little yn relationship, big ol’ daddy kink, basically just a lot of smut (bondage, overstimulation, use of toys, dirty talk, f oral, penetration), discussions of subspace and crappy sexual experiences (nothing forced), yn in little/sub space

"Y/N, I just don't think this is working out anymore."

Normally, Y/N is able to see this coming.

In the past, she's had 20/20 hindsight, predicted when whatever man she was seeing — or rather, submitting to — had finally gotten bored of her, and been able to paste a smile on her face when it finally happened. She could bite her tongue hard enough to prevent the flush that would eventually warm her entire body with embarrassment, mumble out some nonsense response ("okay, that's fine, I appreciate the time we spent together", which was usually a lie anyway), give them a halfhearted hug and let them go.

Todd, however? The world's worst dominant? She seriously can't believe that Todd of all people is ending things.

Realistically, Y/N doesn't really care that Todd isn't interested in dominating her anymore. He was shit at aftercare and only paid attention to maintaining a sexual relationship, as opposed to an emotional one, too. (Y/N's profile specifically said that she was looking for a dominant inside and outside of the bedroom.) So, when it comes down to it, it's fine that Todd is putting a stop to their rather lackluster relationship, but Y/N is unprepared.

Typically, at this point, she already has a date with another dominant lined up for 24 hours from now. She's already talking to other people, listing out her hard limits and what she's looking for, maybe even switching her photos around to change things up after being on this god forsaken website for a year and a half.

And maybe she, too, was so unsatisfied with Todd that she wasn't paying enough attention to realize the end was coming.

But with her slightly squinted eyes and half-open jaw, it must seem that she's in some sort of immediate stage of heartbreak (she's not, she's just surprised), because Todd goes to sling his arm around her shoulders and presses a kiss to the side of her head.

"It's not you, babe, it's me," he says, and it makes Y/N want to elbow him in the ribs, "Really, you were great. Fantastic every time. Just think I'm looking for someone a little bit more... emotionally stable, y'know?"

That's what breaks Y/N out of her trance, so she quickly rises from her couch and wordlessly opens the front door.

"Thanks. You can go now."

With furrowed eyebrows, Todd stands up, as if he was expecting her to get down on her knees and grovel at his feet, begging him to stay.

"See, this is what I'm talking about, babe— one second you're all quiet and mousey, and the next you're trying to boss me around like I'm the submissive," he feens offense as he pulls his sneakers on, "I think you should probably get your brain together before you start seeing someone else, it's a real mindfuck."

"Okay," Y/N smiles tightly, gesturing outside to the chilly evening. "See you around, Todd."

The confused expression remains on Todd's face but thankfully, he leaves without another word. Y/N lets out a deep sigh as she shuts the door behind him and locks it up. She grabs one of the leftover muffins she made at work today, plops down on the couch, and turns on the TV to find a show to fall asleep to.

. . .

If Harry's being honest, the bar is the last place he wants to be right now.

And he would be at home if he hadn't blown his friends off for the past three weeks, and Claire hadn't stopped by his desk while he was packing his things up, threatening to kidnap him if he wasn't planning on attending this evening.

He feels bad, especially because he knows he has the tendency to prioritize work over his friends, so he shoots her a tight smile and tells her to lead the way.

So now he's at their usual booth in the corner, slowly nursing a lukewarm beer that he'd ordered an hour ago when they arrived. He's halfway listening to a story Lea is telling about her shitty on-again, off-again boyfriend, occasionally suppressing the urge to yawn. He glances down at the watch on his wrist to read the time and promises himself that he'll stay another 30 minutes before ducking out.

Truthfully, he's bored, and he's tired, and his bed is calling to him in a way that's almost painful. He occupies himself by people-watching, trying to guess who's on first dates or, like him and his friends, getting together for weekly drinks. It's only then that he zeroes in on her — Y/N, that is — sitting alone at the bar top, slightly hunched over as she taps on her phone, a glass of wine in the other hand.

Harry doesn't know Y/N that well. He knows that she went to college with Naomi, who started inviting her to things around a year ago, and now she's always just around. He's unsure if she actually likes any of them besides Naomi, though — she's quiet and introverted, which Harry respects and understands, but the one-on-one conversations they've had are few and far between.

But that's why his interest is piqued in the first place. He's never witnessed her sitting alone at the bar, and a twinge of concern fires through him as he watches her. He clears his throat and turns back to the table, unintentionally cutting Lea off.

"Is Y/N okay?" he asks, jabbing his thumb in the direction of the bar.

"What? I didn't even know she was here," Lea says as she peers over with a shrug, "Seems fine to me."

She continues on with her story and Harry rolls his eyes, grabbing his pint and striding over to where Y/N is sitting. He props himself up on the stool next to her and waves the bartender down, pointing to his glass.

"Hey, Y/N," Harry greets easily as his glass gets refilled. She looks up from her phone and immediately locks it, as if he's tearing her from some deep thinking, surprised that anyone would come to bother her in a busy pub. "How are you?"

With slightly parted lips, she looks a bit bewildered. "Um... I'm fine. How are you, Harry?"

He swallows, glancing down at the half-full glass of white wine she's drinking. He's never actually seen her drunk, despite near-weekly meetups at this pub. She seems tipsy, not fully under water, though decently buzzed.

"I'm good, thanks," he forces a smile onto his lips as an effort to seem as though he's not concerned for her wellbeing. "I saw you over here and realized I didn't even say hi to you."

Y/N shrugs. "I didn't really feel like socializing tonight. Naomi kind of dragged me here."

"Ah, Claire did the same to me," Harry replies understandingly, nodding his head, "Said she'd kidnap me if I didn't come out."

She scoffs at that before tilting the glass back towards her lips, taking another hearty gulp. He doesn't miss the thin wince she makes as the liquid touches her tongue, swallowing it down quickly.

"Is it 'cos you got broken up with, too?"

Harry's eyes widen at her question, but she's already looked past him, zoning out with a bleary look.

"Oh... I'm sorry, Y/N. Do you want to talk about it?"

He's not great at emotional conversations, especially with people he barely knows, but he supposes it's a decent explanation for why she's in this state. He's content with lending a shoulder to cry on, he decides, because he doubts Naomi had done the same.

"It wasn't really a breakup, it's fine," she mutters with a dismissive wave of her hand. "We weren't dating, is what I mean."

Although she attempts at some sort of explanation, Harry's still confused, but he nods as if he understands.

"Was it like a friends with benefits situation?" he guesses, and she shrugs noncommittally.

"Kind of."

"So it was complicated, then," Harry murmurs. He gets that — he's been there a thousand times over, and he understands the pain associated with those types of situations.

"It wasn't," she shakes her head, and now Harry knows she's just spewing out drunken nonsense, "He was my... dominant. Or tried to be. He was really fucking shitty at it."

Dominant?

The familiar word echoes through the chambers of Harry's mind. He's certainly not unacquainted with dominant and submissive dynamics, but he's shocked — more than, really — that Y/N refers to a typically taboo word in such a casual way. He chalks it up to the alcohol, but he's still surprised that Y/N even had a dominant to begin with.

"I met him on one of those stupid seeking arrangements websites, which honestly never produces good results," Y/N continues, making Harry's eyes widen even more. He's sure that she would never reveal this information to any of their mutual friends, let alone him of all people. "Every dom I've had from there has been... whatever. But he was particularly awful, and he just ended things out of nowhere. Normally I like to have someone else lined up, but... yeah."

Even in her alcohol-fueled state, Y/N realizes that she's rambling, providing far too many personal details to Harry, who she rarely talks to. She knows she'll be ridiculously embarrassed by the entire evening as soon as the wine drunk haze wears off, but for now, Harry's on the receiving end of her secrets.

Harry clears his throat and straightens his posture, sitting up a little taller. "Well, you said it yourself. Those sites are shitty, the dominants on there are usually just looking to experiment for the first time and they don't know what they're doing. The local BDSM community is your best bet... clubs and gatherings and such."

Y/N wrinkles her eyebrows and peers at Harry beside her. He's looking straight ahead and nibbling on his bottom lip, his hand firmly grasped around his glass. She doesn't know much about Harry besides the fact that he works at some large company with a relatively well-off position. He's gorgeous, of course, and has flings with people here and there but otherwise, her knowledge of what him is... well, almost non-existent.

It wasn't totally impossible — the likelihood that Harry, like Y/N, was involved in similar sexual dynamics. She wouldn't classify herself as part of the BDSM community, but perhaps it was because she'd never dove headfirst into learning about it outside of what she's interested in. She felt that what she looked for in a dominant was rather... specific.

"Do you... are you...?" Y/N doesn't quite know how to phrase the question, "are you a dom?" without sounding like a total creep, so she allows him to fill in the blanks. His throat bobs as he takes a sip of his beer, shrugging his shoulders tersely.

"Yeah," he finally answers. "Not very consistently, I guess, but I'll take on a sub a few times year. Usually for a few months."

She nods slowly, squinting her eyes a bit as she tries to picture it. She's not sure what type of dominant Harry is — whether he's sweet and soft, or tough and enjoys pushing his subs to their limit each and every time — but regardless, the mere thought of it is enough to make her squeeze her thighs.

"What about you?" he asks, shifting his position to face her. "It sounds like you go through doms kind of... quickly."

Y/N hums, "Kind of, I guess. I think I have kind of... like, particular needs, and not everyone is interested in it."

It's the most they've ever spoken to one another, and Harry doesn't even think before he's asking her what exactly she looks for in a dominant. He's immediately embarrassed — he doesn't know what made him question her so openly, but he can't help his curiosity.

She waves his slight exasperation off, clearly not offended by his press for details.

"Can I just ask that you don't tell anyone?" Y/N says, looking at the man sitting next to her. "It's like, a little embarrassing, and I've never told our friends about it. Not even Naomi."

"Of course," Harry quips. He's always been good at keeping those types of things under wraps — he didn't believe anyone had anything to gain by learning about someone's sexual interests.

"I... I guess I have some trauma stemming from childhood that I've worked through in recent years. It's not important to this, but I tend to look for dominants who fulfill more of a caretaker role. I like to be... taken care of. In certain ways."

Her cheeks flush as the words leave her mouth as he listens to her closely. He's not sure if he's reading between the lines, looking too far into her explanation, but he gets it. He thinks.

"So... a daddy dom?" Harry asks softly. Y/N rolls her lips into her mouth and nods curtly.

"That's nothing to be embarrassed about," he murmurs once he receives confirmation, "A lot of people like that type of relationship. I can understand why you'd be interested in it, especially if you have trauma."

She shrugs. "A lot of people think it's weird, too."

"Sure, but those aren't the people you should be seeking relationships out with," Harry replies easily, "What do you look for specifically? I'm sure we could find someone for you in the community."

Y/N lets a deep breath out, rolling her neck to each of her shoulders. She can't believe they're having this conversation in public, but she'd be lying if she said Harry wasn't easy to talk to. Plus, at the night went on, more people filed out of the bar considering it was a weekday.

"It's not necessarily age play I'm after, which I think a lot of people think is what I want," she explains, "Just like... a caregiver, I guess, that's there for me both in and out of the bedroom. I, um... on bad days, fall into a... headspace, and it's very difficult to navigate that on my own. If that makes sense."

"Makes perfect sense," Harry nods. "Are you looking for punishments and such?"

"Yeah." she breathes, nibbling at her lip as she crosses her legs, attempting to mitigate the dull throbbing in her core.

"Y/N, do you have my number?"

She swallows as she peers up at him through her eyelashes, shaking her head. He puts his hand out and she grabs her phone, placing it in his palm. He taps at the screen and she assumes he's putting his information in her contacts.

"Claire drove me here so I can't give you a ride home, but I'm gonna order you an Uber so you can head home," he murmurs lowly, handing her phone back to her. "Text me tomorrow. Can we get together after work?"

Y/N nods with slightly rounded eyes, making him smile gently. He realizes she must be more depraved than he thought if she's already slipping into her little space from an act as simple from that.

"Keep it together 'til you get home," Harry says with a quirked eyebrow, though embarrassment quickly washes over Y/N's body. He chuckles as she blushes, patting her thigh lightly. "I'll walk you out."

She grabs her bag and follows him out of the bar, welcoming the autumnal chill as it pimples her skin.

"Are you gonna slip on the way back?"

Y/N looks up to see Harry towering over her, a concerned expression on his face.

"N-no. I'm fine."

He continues analyzing her for a moment or two more before he finally nods once. "Okay. If you feel yourself getting there, call me."

"I won't. I promise."

Harry hums as a black sedan rolls up to the curb. He checks to make sure it's the correct license plate before guiding her to the car and holding the door open for her. She gets in the backseat and he nods at the driver, murmuring down at her, "seatbelt on."

She complies readily and he smiles, patting her head softly. "Message me when you get home. We'll talk tomorrow, okay?"

"Okay. Thank you, Harry."

20 minutes later when he receives a text from her stating that she's made it home safely, he already knows he'll do anything to be her dominant.

. . .

Harry half expects Y/N to pretend like last night ever happened.

He would understand it if she did. She was tipsy, revealing intimate details about her sexual preferences pertaining to BDSM. No one else from their friend group knew. It just ended up coming out for both of them — Harry doesn't parade his dominant role in the bedroom all around town, but if someone he knows asks, he's happy to admit to it and talk more about it. He's not ashamed by any means, but he can tell that Y/N is. She prefaced her explanation by stating that she has trauma — and really, who doesn't? — and hinted that dominants in the past have found her requests to be weird.

Harry doesn't think the whole daddy dom thing is strange. He understands it, especially pertaining to a psychological, healing level. He's never engaged in that sort of dynamic before, typically sticking to scratching the itch his submissives usually had, whether it be getting tossed around a little, orgasm denial, or being tied up. He was happy to do what made them happy, but he usually kept it in the bedroom.

The thought of taking up a caregiver role in Y/N's life made his spine tingle.

He's always been interested in her — not even in a romantic or sexual way, he's always just found her fascinating. She's quiet and shy, beautiful, and the definition of a wallflower. Naomi brought her in one day and she just never left. It's been a year since then and Harry doesn't think she's spoken more than 15 words to the others.

And so, with all of this knowledge under his belt, he spends his day at work worrying his bottom lip between his teeth and constantly unlocking his phone. When he gets home that evening, narrowly avoiding Claire's proposal at more social interaction, he's lost all hope, even though he did tell her to text him when she was finished with work. He's properly pouting as he sits on his couch, knees to his chest, when his phone lights up on the coffee table in front of him.

From: Y/N Y/L/N

hey harry:) first of all, im so sorry about last night. i was clearly having a tough day and i definitely took advantage of u being willing to chat with me, so im sorry if i revealed too much or took you away from everyone else.. i know u don't go out often and im really sorry if i ruined it

im also not sure if you still have interest in what we talked about last night w helping me find someone... its totally ok if you've changed ur mind or you were just drunk or whatever. again, i know i was being a lot so no worries!! sorry! just lmk :)

Harry's heart squeezes as he reads over her repeated apologies. In two texts, she said variations of "I'm sorry" four times. She thought she had ruined his night in some way when it was the complete opposite.

His thumbs hover over the screen as he thinks of a response. He's over the moon that she still decided to text him and that she'd avoiding the path of pretending nothing happened. In all honesty, he's unsure if he could live with himself when he had all those images and thoughts of her in his head, knowing that they'd just moved on from it.

Hey Y/N. Please don't apologize for last night, I had a really nice time talking to you. I'm definitely still interested. Are you available tonight?

She's quick in her reply, which makes him smile. He can imagine the way she's probably alternating between biting her lip and picking at the skin around her fingernails, both of which he assumed were nervous habits that he picked up on last night.

ok if you say so.. and yes im free! i was planning on ordering some takeout if ur interested, i don't really have any food here that isn't a baked good lol

Harry chuckles at that. Claire mentioned once that Y/N works at the bakery close to the park he does his morning jogs through. When he passes by at early sunrise, the windows are often illuminated with a warm glow, and he wonders if it's coming from her.

That's okay, I was planning on cooking if you'd like me to bring you some. I have ingredients for a stir fry. Would that be okay?

She replies with what he can only describe as a bashful but affirmative answer (only if you're sure!! but that sounds great!) and sends a second message with her address. He's beaming as he chops up vegetables and sautes them up rice noodles and homemade peanut sauce, indulging in the simple act of cooking for Y/N.

Last night, after he'd gotten home from the bar, he'd done some research on daddy dom relationships. He knew of them, but if he was going to offer being Y/N's, he wanted to ensure that he was knowledgable on anything she could want. He learned that there were many different facets of that type of dynamic, some of which he was comfortable with and some of which he wasn't. Like any other dominant and submissive relationship, hard and soft limits would be discussed, but this one, Harry realized, wouldn't just consist of kinks he had no interest in engaging in.

As he spoons the finished stir fry into a plastic container to take to Y/N's, his stomach brews with butterflies. He's never expressed interest in dominating someone he already knows in real life. Those relationships existed purely in the confides of the bedroom. It's a commitment, he understands, to engage in such an agreement with her.

So why isn't he scared?

. . .

"This is delicious, Harry," Y/N all but moans over her serving of stir fry, chopsticks in hand. He smiles before biting into a piece of broccoli coated in peanut sauce.

"I'm glad you like it. It's a go-to dish for me, especially on weekdays when I'm exhausted from work."

She hums, nodding thoughtfully as she chews. A temporary silence takes over as they eat, ended by Harry eventually clearing his throat and gently placing his bowl on the table.

"So, about finding you a dom," he says, and her eyes perk up slightly, as if she's an over-excited puppy. "I have a proposition."

"Oh, you found someone already?"

"Sort of," Harry answers vaguely, "I think— well, no, I know. I would be interested in taking that place."

Y/N raises her eyebrows. She sets her own bowl of food on the table and purses her lips as she chews the rest of the contents in her mouth.

"I don't think you want that." she says gently.

"Why?" he shoots back, a near immediate response, "I spent all night and day thinking about it. I do."

Y/N sighs, "Because it's more than just spanking me when I have an attitude with you or cooking me a meal. I can be a lot, Harry, and it's the reason why I've gone through so many dominants already."

"Has it ever occurred to you that maybe you go through so many because they're the problem?" Harry asks. "You lay it all out on the table, right? You tell them exactly what you're looking for. Everything you told me last night."

She nods.

"And they still agree. You tell them you want a dominant outside of the bedroom, too, that the 'daddy' role you're looking for is a caretaker," Harry continues, "So how does that make you the issue?"

"Because what I'm looking for is... unconventional," she fights back, convinced in her stance. "Guys think the whole daddy thing is hot until... until I actually need them."

"It's not unconventional, Y/N. I did a ton of research last night. There are a million sites explaining what a DDLG relationship is and what it can consist of. The things that go into it on both sides, but especially on the dominant's. I'm not saying I know everything about being one, but I've at least cared to learn."

Y/N sighs and rolls her lips into mouth. She'll admit, she's impressed. She's not sure any guy she's ever been with has done that.

"So... what would you want, then?" Y/N asks, her voice softened.

"Well, I definitely have limits, but it's mainly dependent on what you're interested in," Harry explains. She finds that he's far too nonchalant for his own good, and the casual nature of his tone makes her even more nervous.

"If you did some research then I'm sure you learned about the extents it can go to," she says thoughtfully and he nods, resting his chin in his palm, "I don't have a desire for the more extreme things. Diapers and pacifiers and all that."

"Okay."

She's taken aback by his lack of response — part of her expected some sort of "oh, thank god" — but she's starting to wonder if Harry just simply exists in a nonjudgmental space. One that she's very much not used to.

"I just want someone to take care of me," she eventually forced out, setting her gaze on her bare thighs, a pair of lavender sweatshorts hung around her hips. "I can be bratty both in bed and out. I like to be put in my place. I enjoy being teased and humiliated. I like punishments and being pushed to my limits, even if I give you a hard time about it. I've been described as a handful when I'm feeling... little."

Harry had read a decent amount about "little space" last night. He'd dominated some partners to the point of falling into subspace, but little space seemed to differ. With his base knowledge on submission, he was able to tell that she was slipping into hers last night, giving him the inkling that making decisions for her and taking away the guess work was something she liked.

"I'm sure you're not, but all of those things are fine by me," Harry replies easily, "What do you like when you're feeling little?"

"It depends on what put me there. If I had a bad day at work, I like a bath and you cooking for me... I get really touchy. If it happens from a sexual scenario, it can be quite difficult to pull me out. But I get really quiet... I'll be more pliable, allow you to throw me around. I'll usually cry, but if you're doing things correctly, they won't be bad tears. Just from overwhelm."

"What sexual scenarios put you there?"

She clears her throat, her tongue thick in her mouth. Thinking about these things is enough to make her slip, but she won't disclose that. At least not right now.

"A number of things... edging or orgasm denial, being tied up and gagged. Anal since it requires trust and prepping. Any type of punishment, but especially spanking."

Harry's nodding his head as she speaks, apparent that he's processing everything she's telling him. He's not surprised by anything, per se, considering he's open to different experiences and nothing seems undoable. It's as if he's making a mental list, adding a separate section to his brain with Y/N's name plastered over it, filing away the information.

"What about when you're not feeling little?" Harry proceeds with little befuddlement, "What does the ideal dominant look like for you then?"

"Um... still just loving and caring. I likely won't be as bratty. More... in control of myself, I suppose," Y/N murmurs in reflection. "I would still like to have scenes with you when I'm not in that headspace, if that's alright. I'm not sure if it would be crossing a boundary."

"Of course." he answers readily without a blink of doubt, "When I embark on a dominant and submissive relationship, I don't like to half-ass it. I don't think there's a point in only asking for me when you need me. You'll never find comfort in me when you're feeling small."

Her heart warms at that, flutters in her tummy making it difficult to hide the smile curling at her lips. She assumes that she should've guessed Harry would be good at this type of thing; she's witnessed how deeply he cares for people. Even when they barely knew each other, he always greeted Y/N like they'd known one another for years, asking about her job at the bakery (she doesn't even remember if she told him he worked at one) and what sweets they were creating nowadays.

She thinks Harry just has a way of making people feel special.

It's what makes her core tingle, squeezing her thighs together for a semblance of relief as she rolls her lips into her mouth. She can feel herself starting to dampen in her underwear and she glances down at Harry's lower half, peeking through her eyelashes to see if he has a growing bulge.

"Do you think we can do a scene tonight, maybe?" Y/N asks softly, glancing back up at his eyes.

Harry chuckles. "I take it you think I'd be a good fit for you then."

"Mhm."

"You're cute," he smirks and pinches her thigh lightly, "No scenes tonight though. I can come over tomorrow, but I want to properly feed you and make sure you're hydrated before we do anything."

Y/N nods as she nibbles on her bottom lip. If she's being honest, she wants nothing more than to crawl into Harry's lap, parting her thighs and grinding into him while he babbles dirty words into her ear. She's always found him attractive, but knowing that he's willing to cater to her own sexual desires lights a fire deep in her stomach.

"I'm gonna head home, but I'm looking forward to getting started with you," Harry says with a small smile, "Oh, one more thing — no touching yourself tonight."

Her eyes widen as he stands from the couch, ready to grovel; they haven't even begun doing anything yet and he's already telling her what to do—

"Y/N," Harry growls, reaching up to grab her face. He squishes her cheeks together and her pupils broaden, surprised by his sudden change in demeanor. "Nod if you understand."

She nods.

"Good girl. I'll text you when I'm coming over tomorrow. I'll bring you dinner again."

Again, she nods.

"Say 'thank you', Y/N."

"Thank you, daddy."

Harry's lips curl into a smirk, releasing his grasp. "Oh, we're gonna have fun together."

. . .

The next day, Y/N can't stop squirming.

It's to the point where her co-workers notice that she's jumpier than normal, clumsy in her icing and piping when she's normally spot-on and nearly perfect in her efforts. She hears from Harry a few times throughout the day — he texts her in the morning and during his lunch break, checking in to see how she's doing, and it makes her entire body swarm with butterflies. He asks if she's eating a proper lunch (she's not), scolds her for it (which she secretly enjoys), and then tells her he'll make her something for her to take to work tomorrow.

Thankfully, she doesn't have a closing shift today, so she's done at a little past 6 pm. It's to her surprise, though, when she's peeling off her flour-coated apron, she spots Harry standing outside the bakery, a cozy cardigan and a graphic t-shirt covering his body.

Y/N has to do a double take. He didn't say anything about meeting her at work this evening, but he has to be here for her, doesn't he?

After sliding her jacket on and grabbing her tote bag, she exits the bakery, closing the glass door behind her gingerly. Harry turns, his eyes lighting up when he sees her.

"Hey," he greets with a grin, "Have a good day at work?"

"Um, yeah, it was alright. Sorry, did we say you would pick me up? I must've forgotten—"

"Oh, no," Harry shakes his head as he jerks his head in the direction of his car, reaching out to slide her bag off of her shoulder. He takes it into his hand, his fingers wrapping around the canvas strap as she shuffles to keep up. "I finished making dinner a little early, figured I'd meet you here. Is that alright?"

"Yeah. Yeah, that's really nice of you, thank you."

Harry hums as they approach his car. He unlocks the doors and they both get in, but he leans over before she has a chance to buckle herself up, clicking her seatbelt in. It's a small act that makes the butterflies return, but she doesn't comment on it as he starts the engine and begins the short drive back to hers.

"I made us some veggie pasta for dinner tonight. Does that sound good?"

"Delicious," Y/N replies honestly as she watches blurs of warm-toned leaves go by. "Thank you again."

A soft smile appears on his lips as he pulls onto her road. "Of course. How are you feeling?"

"I'm alright. A little tired. Nervous, to be honest."

Harry chuckles and briefly glances over at her, "Yeah? Nothing to be nervous about. We'll take it slow."

She shuffles in her seat and wedges her hands between her thighs. "Just don't want you to judge me, is all."

"I won't, but we did manage to forget to have the conversation on hard sexual limits. Do you mind listing yours?"

She nods. She's done this dance enough times to know the importance of discussing this subject matter, though she doubts there's much Harry could do that wouldn't be a turn-on for her.

"Um, any bathroom things, fisting, foot stuff... I'm fine with anal as long as we agree upon doing it beforehand. And if you're going to inflict physical pain on me, that's fine, but I'd prefer it if we built up to it — so, like, starting with spanking then the belt or a paddle."

"Sure, that makes perfect sense. I like to have conversations with my subs after we do a scene, so we can see how you feel about what we did," he pulls into a parking spot outside of her home, yanking the key from the ignition, "And, just so you know — no anal tonight and no spanking unless you deserve it."

He taps her cheek gently with his spare hand and she flushes as she unbuckles her seatbelt and gets out of the car. She follows him up to her front door and fishes her keys from the pocket of her jacket, unlocking it and stepping inside.

"Are y'alright with the traffic light system?" Harry questions as he sets her bag down on the slim table placed in the entryway.

"Yeah. My safe word is yarn, just FYI."

He wrinkles his eyebrows and pulls a few to-go containers out from his own bag. He opens his mouth to question her but she puts her hand up to stop him.

"I like to crochet. Don't make fun of me for it."

"Wouldn't dream of it," Harry murmurs, traipsing in the direction of her kitchen, "Go change out of your work clothes and put something pretty on for me, angel girl."

She's happy to comply, immediately feeling giddy at Harry telling her what to do from the get-go. When she gets upstairs and to her bedroom, she meanders over to the drawer she has for evenings like this. It's filled with lacy bodysuits and ruffly underwear, knee high socks, and pastel lingerie. Eager to rid her body of the jeans and sweater she wore all day, she opts for a sheer pink bralette and matching shorts that barely cover her bum. It's a sweet set that she personally likes, but she can't help the slight worry that Harry won't enjoy it as much as she does.

She's already meandering into her little headspace as she heads back downstairs. Harry's already plated up their dinner, complete with small servings of a side salad. He looks up as soon as he hears her soft padding across the length of the living room, his jaw falling slack at her appearance.

"Look at you," he coos, standing from the couch and closing the distance between them, "You look beautiful."

Y/N licks her lips, keeping her gaze low. She feels herself slipping, but for once, she's not scared of letting it happen.

"What's wrong, little one?" Harry asks gently, pressing his pointer finger and thumb to her chin, raising her head, "Are you feeling small already?"

She nods, her eyes round.

"Mm, that was quick. Just from daddy taking care of you and putting on these pretty little clothes, huh?"

Again, she nods.

"Alright. Let's get some food in your belly and then daddy can play with you a bit?"

This time, she shakes her head.

"No? No scene tonight?" Harry guesses through furrowed brows.

"Wanna play now, please."

"Ahhhh," he nods, understanding now that she's looking to skip out on dinner. "Gotta eat first, baby. Then we'll play."

Y/N pouts and he chuckles, wrapping his fingers around her wrist and tugging her towards the couch.

"C'mon. You can sit in my lap, hm?"

Still in the trousers he wore to work today, Harry settles back against the couch. He pulls her body into his, wrapping an arm around her waist to keep her steady.

"Is this good?" he asks softly, catching the shell of her ear.

"Yes." she peeps, nibbling on her lip.

"Alright baby, grab your food for me. Gotta eat at least half before we do anything."

Wringing her hands in her lap, Y/N doesn't move. Harry runs his fingertips along the length of her arm, nosing at her shoulder.

"Would you... daddy, I..."

Her voice trails off and his heart squeezes, eager to coax whatever she's trying to say out of her.

"Ask, honey. Use your words." he encourages tenderly.

She forces the words out, even if they feel humiliating despite her clouded head. "Can you feed me, please?"

Harry hums. He won't say it in the moment because he can tell the request was difficult to muster out, but his entire body feels infinitely softer. He leans forward to grab her serving, scooping some pasta on the fork.

"Y'gonna be good and eat for me now?"

She nods, "I will. Thank you, daddy."

He murmurs out a you're welcome, continuing the quiet pattern of feeding her, watching her chew and swallow, and going back for more. He doesn't let her get off without eating a few bites of salad, chuckling gently at her quiet protests.

"Still feeling good?" Harry asks, setting her empty bowl back on the coffee table.

"Mhm. Playtime now?"

He smiles and nods, carefully shimmying her body off his lap. "Why don't you go upstairs and wait for me? Daddy needs to eat too."

Y/N shakes her head and sinks to the carpet, pressing her chin to his knee. "Wanna be close, please."

"Yeah?" Harry chuckles, grabbing his own bowl of pasta, "Okay, baby, you can sit there but no touching. I know you're nearly gagging for my cock."

He watches as she shivers, nibbling on her bottom lip and shifting her position slightly so her cheek is smushed against his thigh. He laughs quietly and threads his fingers through her hair, quickly eating his own portion. He can't deny that he's just as excited to get started — he, too, has been thinking about this all day, deciding what positions he'd fold her body into, if he'd edge her or overstimulate her with orgasm upon orgasm. He didn't want to fully push her limits so quickly — he wanted to create a foundation of trust between each other, but he couldn't help the inevitable daydreams that clouded his day.

He finishes his food quickly, tapping her head playfully to alert her that he's done. She lifts her head and he takes in her moony gaze, his heart thumping quickly in his chest at how sweet she looks.

"Upstairs, bunny. Hands and knees, bum in the air, okay?" He plucks at her bottom lip as he grants her guidance, her eyes fluttering shut, relieved to finally be getting instructions. She scurries up to her bedroom, listening to Harry putter around as he places their dirty dishes in the sink. As he asks, she lets her knees meld into the foamy texture of the mattress. With her cheek pressed against the pillow, she folds her legs and maneuvers her lower half into his requested position.

It feels like an eternity before Y/N hears Harry enter the room, shutting the door behind him. He doesn't move to remove any of his clothes, instead kneeling onto the bed behind her.

"You've been doing so good for daddy, haven't you, baby?"

She knows it's a rhetorical question but she nods into the plushy pillow, wiggling her butt. He chuckles and allows his palms to roam the expanse of her skin, from the bottoms of her thighs up to the swell of her ass. She keens at the feel of his touch, already obsessed with the way his large hands fit over her body.

"We won't be doing too much tonight, but I'll be asking for your color consistently. I want you to use your safe word at any point you deem necessary. Is that clear?"

Y/N nods her head and hums, though her answer is slightly muffled by the fluff of the pillow.

He continues rubbing slow circles into the globes of her ass, intent on getting her to feel as relaxed as possible. He can tell she's excited — he is, too — but above anything, he wants her to be calm.

"I brought some toys and things for us to play with," Harry continues, her ears perking up, "Can you tell me your color for each of them? It's perfectly okay if it changes at some point. I'd just like an idea of what you want."

Y/N has never had someone care this much — every time a dominant brought a toy to a session, he'd thrown it in there haphazardly. A vibrator turned up way too high, terribly knitted rope and, the worst by far, a butt plug that wasn't lubed whatsoever.

So she's keening over the care Harry puts into his role, her heart beating rapidly in her chest as he shuffles off the bed for a moment and slings the tote bag onto the comforter. She still can't see a thing that he's doing, but as she floats into a comfortable cloudy mindset, she becomes more and more content with letting him make the rules.

"Okay, baby. Know you want daddy to make the decisions but I need you to be good for me and tell me what you're comfortable with," Harry murmurs, his fingertips dancing along the soft material of her waistband. He doesn't dip below or tug them down; it more so feels like a reminder of what can come if she's good. "Tying your wrists with silk ties. Color?"

Her pussy pulsates at the immediate vision of her arms tied high above her head, unable to touch herself or him. "Mm. Green."

"And what about your legs? Are you okay with rope, or would you prefer silk down there, too?"

"Either one, daddy. Green for both."

Harry hums, dipping down to slowly press light kisses down the length of her spine. She shivers at the sensation of his soft lips making contact with her skin for the first time. "A vibrator for your cute little pussy?"

"Green," she whimpers as his hands find purchase on her hips.

"Can daddy use his mouth on you?" he asks, the low vibrations of his voice making her core leak with arousal. "On your pussy?"

"Yes, yes," Y/N nearly pleads, bucking her hips up against his grasp. He tuts softly, and she can imagine the way his tongue flicks up against his two front bunny teeth, a look of disappointment painted over his face.

"Be patient, bunny. Don't need you squirming around just 'cos you wanna be touched."

She wants to groan out when he removes his hands from her skin but resists the urge, especially because he just told her to be patient (something Y/N has never been good at). She feels like it's a punishment in and of itself — he's barely done anything, but she can still feel the phantom kisses he placed down her back, and the skin stretching over her hips somehow feels lonely without his large palms pawing at it.

"On your back." Harry suddenly instructs. She's quick to obey, rolling over onto the plush duvet. He's fast in his movements and already kneeling above her, wrapping her wrists together and fastening a bow with pink silk. "Have you used these before? Do you know how to get out of them if you need to?"

Y/N nods. She knows that she can simply pull her wrists apart to quickly dissolve the knot, instantly freeing herself.

"Good girl. Daddy's gonna use rope for your legs, okay? Use your safe word or red if you need."

She has to admit, she's immediately impressed with Harry's apparent knowledge of bondage. She's been tied up many times before, but if she had to guess how many times someone's properly tied her hands, breasts, or legs with rope, it would likely only be once or twice.

A wet gasp leaves her mouth when she realizes Harry isn't just tying her ankles down to the bed post. Instead, he's pressing her calves into the backs of her thighs, the slight burn of the rope pressing into her flesh in the most delicious way. Although she's able to close her legs, the knots still remove most of her mobility, especially with her arms tucked above her head.

After finishing with her legs, Harry stands from the bed, still in his tee-shirt and trousers. He admires his work from above with a devilish smirk on his face, making Y/N's skin warm.

"Aren't you just a wet dream?" he mocks lightly, trailing his fingertips up and along her knee, "All tied up and absolutely useless, hm? Can't even get out of bed, can you?"

Y/N shakes her head, her bottom lip beginning to wobble at his teasing. Everything about the scene is already so intense, the build-up so delicious and consuming and— fuck, he hasn't even touched her yet.

"You just need your daddy to do everything for you, don't you?" Harry continues, kneeling into the mattress. His hands find the insides of her thighs and he pushes them apart, but his eyes don't even fall to her core, instead keeping them square on her wide-eyed gaze. "Helpless little baby, aren't you? Say it. Say your daddy's helpless baby."

"I'm— I'm daddy's helpless baby." she stammers out, her tongue heavy in her mouth.

"Are you gonna cry already, bunny?" he asks, his lips curling up into a wicked smirk, "Haven't even fuckin' done a thing and you're crying over being tied up. This is what you wanted, isn't it? Wanted daddy to make all your choices? Get all cock dumb and drunk on my cum?"

She nods futilely. She doesn't even realize the wetness pooling in the corners of her eyes, but she feels tears leaking steadily as soon as he mentions it.

"P-please daddy. Wanna be touched."

"Ah, so you do have some thoughts going on up there."

It seems like maybe that's all it takes for Harry to finally cease his mocking, digging into the tote bag at the side of the bed to produce a silicone vibrator. It's light blue and long, with a bulbous head at the tip that she assumes is for stimulating the spongey spot deep inside of her.

He finds a spot between her thighs, kneeling back on his ankles. His hands move up her inner thighs and to the creases of where her legs meet her core, the sheer fabric of her pale pink shorts immediately giving way to the wetness seeping from her hole. Harry nearly groans out at that, the sight going straight to his rock hard cock being strained by layers of clothing.

With a feather light touch, he thumbs over her clit through the material. She immediately jolts and he chuckles, moving his finger to gently stroke over her mound.

"Desperate little thing. Begging for daddy's touch."

"Yes," Y/N mewls at the top of the bed, wiggling against the rough rope, "I need it daddy, please, touch me, I've been so good—"

"Have you?" he asks, retrieving his hand, "All you've done is do as I've asked. If anything, I'm the one that should get rewarded, don't you think? Picked you up from work, fed you, tied you up... sounds like you're just being greedy to me."

"I'm not— t-that is being good, daddy, I didn't touch myself like you said a-and I've earned it, please."

She's fully crying now, tears leaking from her eyes in steadfast streams that it actually makes Harry feel bad. She hasn't even stopped her begging by the time he's pulling her shorts down to reveal her weeping pussy, a soft tsk leaving his mouth.

"Stop pleading, bunny, I'll give you want you're so desperate for," Harry says, grabbing the vibrator. He'd initially planned to work her with his fingers before pressing the toy against her clit and pushing it inside, but he hasn't even spread her open and he can already see the creamy arousal coating her lips. He thinks that if he teases her for much longer, she may just disintegrate into the bed.

So instead, because he's him and he's not a nice dom, he cranks it onto the medium setting and nudges it up against her clit. She instantly gasps out and jerks her hips up at the vibrations, a near-yell leaving her throat. He's aware that every person is different and it'll take him some time to learn her body, but with the way that her legs are already shaking as he uses more pressure to press the toy against the bundle of nerves, he thinks he he's getting somewhere.

"Are you gonna cum already?" Harry asks, his eyebrows knitted together as his eyes rake over her body. Her own eyes are scrunched up, her lips parted as small whimpers escape her throat, beads of sweat beginning to tumble down the slopes and curves of her skin — it's a sight, and he wishes to commit it to memory.

"Y-yes," she admits, nodding quickly, "Can I? Please?"

In response, he transfers the vibrator to his left hand and slowly pushes a finger into her pulsating hole.

"Go ahead."

He strokes once or twice against her g-spot with his finger before she's crumbling, her chest concave with haphazard breaths and her back arched. Moans readily fall from her lips, her pussy squeezing his finger so tight it nearly makes him cum on the spot.

As Y/N comes down from her peak, she recalls Harry saying that they weren't doing anything too crazy today, so she wonders if that's it. If so, she supposes that's fine, but she thinks she'll over him a blowie, offering to let him fuck her face while she's still tied up with silk and rope.

Instead, he cranks the vibrator up another setting and pushes a second finger inside, eliciting a broken groan from her chest.

"Again." Harry instructs, curling his fingers deep inside of her.

"O-oh," Y/N whimpers with shaking thighs and a dizzy head, "Daddy, I—"

"Again, bunny." he repeats, quickening the pace of his fingers. "I want another one. Now."

She quickly realizes that she doesn't know if she'll ever be able to reject Harry, because it only takes a few more pumps of his digits until she's squeezing him again. She's never had two orgasms so close together and she finds that this one is more intense, her muscles not even fully relaxed as they contract around him once again.

Her eyes are still closed when he removes his fingers and she thinks she hears a faint sucking noise, though she can't be sure. He lowers the vibrator setting but keeps it flush against her clit, despite the way her pussy is all but begging for a break.

"Color." Harry demands, his hand finding the backside of her knee.

"G-green," she hiccups through tear-stained cheeks, "Can keep going, daddy. Please."

He nods once, lowering so his stomach is pressed against the mattress now. He finally clicks the toy off and pushes it to the side, pausing his assault on her core before spreading her lips open with his fingers.

"Jesus, you're fuckin' pretty," he mutters, watching as her hole pulsates from two back-to-back orgasms. He spits, the saliva landing on her spread slit, making her gasp. "Who owns this pussy, bunny?"

Y/N's chest is heaving, but she still manages his honorific through wet, splotchy cheeks.

"Say it again." he commands before leaning forward to lick a fat stripe from her hole to her clit.

"It's yours, daddy." she whispers, her hands forming tight fists above her form.

"Good girl. That's what I want you to say when you cum next, okay?"

She doesn't have a chance to question yet another orgasms as his tongue makes contact with her pussy, moaning deeply. He's already obsessed with her taste and she's sure she's never had someone go down on her with this much vigor. She's gulping for air when his tongue darts in and out of her hole before licking up to her clit, lips wrapped around the nub as he sucks harshly, whines sounding from her mouth at the sensitivity.

Y/N has never understood the phrase "making out with her pussy" until this exact moment.

She doesn't even know if he's coming up for air much, but he's quick to figure out the pattern that makes her thighs shake. Messy sounds come from below as he slurps at the arousal leaking from her, using the width of his tongue to lick upwards to her clit over and over again.

"Daddy!" Y/N squeals, jerking her hips involuntarily, only to be pressing her core even closer to his mouth, "Please, I— I think—"

"Cum." he mutters into her, suckling at her clit with such fervor that Y/N genuinely thinks she may pass out.

She doesn't, though, but the intensity of her orgasm claws up her body rapidly, loud cries bubbling up her throat as she repeats clamors of, "it's yours daddy, your pussy, it's yours."

She feels him press chaste kisses against her mound as he gently begins to untie the ropes, slowly easing her legs out of their angled positions. Once they're free, he helps her stretch them outward, continuing his trail of kisses up her body until he's straddling her waist between his thighs.

"Color," Harry murmurs, reaching up to release his wrists from the silk. Her eyes are set on the bulge in his pants and he gently taps her cheek, "Bunny, tell me your color."

"Green, daddy. That looks like it hurts."

She uses her newly freed hands to point at his crotch and he chuckles, shaking his head.

"I'm fine, lovebug. Are you sure you're still green? Looking quite floaty."

"I am," Y/N lulls her head to the side, leaning it against her shoulder as she circles her wrists, "Wanna keep going though. 'm okay."

"Do you remember your safe word?" he questions, grabbing one of her wrists and pressing soft kisses into the skin.

"Mhm."

"What is it?"

"Yarn. 'cos I like to crochet."

Harry grins, relieved that she isn't too far off the deep end. He finds her to be especially adorable when she's in her little space, the moony gaze in her eyes removing any traces of stress from her day-to-day life.

"That's right, baby," he replies, pulling off his tee-shirt. "Daddy's gonna fuck you now. Is that alright?"

"Yes, please. But I don't think I wanna cum again."

He hums and nods, unbuckling his pants and kicking them off his legs, "That's perfectly fine, bunny. You got daddy so hard that I don't think it'll take much for me to cum."

Y/N giggles at that and makes grabby hands at him, making him chuckle. "Off, please," she says, pointing to the briefs straining his cock.

"You're such a polite little girl, did you know that?" Harry asks as he pushes his underwear down, settling in between her legs.

"Daddy's polite girl."

If his cock wasn't painfully hard right now, he might've laughed at her repeating his words. Unfortunately, an hour of overstimulating Y/N and watching her writhe beneath his grasp, all tied up with no choice but to just take it — he's shivering at the images of it, and he knows he needs to cum within the next five minutes or his dick will surely fall off.

"Gonna push in, okay?" Harry asks softly, rubbing circles into her hip, "Remember, tell me if you need to stop. Daddy will always listen to you."

Y/N nods her head, blinking away the leftover moisture in her eyes from her bout of cries earlier. She knows that if she didn't feel so comfortable with him, there's no way she would be this far in her little space right now, where she just wants him to take and take until he's satisfied. It's maybe happened three or four times in the past with a dom she had that was actually pretty good, but she knows now doesn't even begin to measure up with Harry.

When his cock pops through her tight walls, it's a bit of a stretch, but she's wet enough with arousal from three orgasms that it barely burns. Instead, she finds herself enjoying the way her core adapts to his shape — not to mention, he looks gorgeous above her with his eyes squeezed closed and his jaw dropped in a quiet groan.

When she doesn't safe word, Harry starts to move. He takes it slow, knowing that if he immediately starts to pump the full of his length inside of her, it may cause her more pain than pleasure, regardless of how small she's feeling. Her plushy lips part as moans begin to fall from them, hooking her ankles behind his form to bring him closer.

"You're so big, daddy," Y/N breathes out, a strangled whimper coming from Harry. "I love it, I love having you inside me."

"Yeah? My little girl wants her daddy's cock in her all the time?" He pushes through grit teeth, his jaw flexing as he begins to quicken his strokes, "Tell me, bunny. Tell me how much you want daddy."

"Oh—," she mewls as he begins to brush up against her g-spot, "I want it always daddy, I-I need it— oh, god— please daddy, please—"

"Sweet little girl sounds so pretty when she begs," He says as he takes one of his palms and presses it against her lower stomach, "This pretty pussy is mine now. You hear me? It's daddy's pussy."

"Yes, yes— fuck, it's yours daddy!"

Harry growls — actually growls — and shifts his hand down to smack against her clit, a throaty moan falling from Y/N's mouth.

"Dumb little babies don't curse," he snaps, slapping her clit once more, "Or do you wanna be punished? Not get any of daddy's cum?"

She shakes her head quickly, her eyes nearly rolling back at the sting of pain radiating through her core. "I want it, please!"

"Yeah? Beg for it, bunny."

She does — she pleads and begs and all but grovels on her hands and knees until Harry pulls out and pumps his cock over her, ropes of warm cum painting the skin of her stomach all the way up to her chest. There's so much (like an impressive amount, Y/N thinks), and she wants to scoop it up and taste it, but Harry grabs her wrist and gives her a look before she can.

"If you do that, you will have to call out of work tomorrow."

She giggles and nibbles on her bottom lip, the little headspace she's swimming in telling her to disobey him. He sighs and shakes his head, grabbing the tee-shirt he was wearing earlier and swiping it over her body, ridding her of his cum.

"You're a naughty little thing," he mumbles, tossing the tee-shirt to the floor — he makes a mental note to throw her bedding and everything in the wash once she's out of her little space. "C'mon baby, up. Gonna take a bath now."

"With you, right?" Y/N mumbles with heavy eyes. He nods as he leans down to scoop her up in his arms, guiding them to the bathroom. He sits her on the toilet and she frowns, making him roll his eyes.

"You don't want a UTI. This isn't a sex thing, just pee while I run you a bath."

She does but only because he tells her to, and she knows she'll feel embarrassed about this tomorrow, but she's okay with it right now. He busies himself with turning the water and making sure it's warm before plugging the drain.

"I brought some bubble bath and epsom salts with me but it's in my bag. Can I leave you while I go get those?"

Again, Y/N nods wordlessly and he leans down to press a kiss to her hair. She flushed and wipes while he's gone, and he returns while she's washing her hands.

Harry knows it feels oddly domestic of them to be naked and prepping to take a bath together after an intense scene, especially since this is the first time they've done this. In the back of his mind, he wonders if they should've talked through the implications of them beginning this type of relationship — a ruined friendship being one of them — and he knows it was selfish of him to forgo that conversation altogether.

He ignores his worries and instead helps her into the bubble bath once it's ready, tucking his body in behind hers as soon as she's situated. It's silent between them for the first time in hours as he wraps his arms around her shoulders, lightly massaging her shoulders.

"How are you feeling?" He finally asks after a few moments of quiet.

"Tired," she mumbles, laying back against his broad chest. He can't tell if she's still floaty by her one-word response so he continues rubbing her back, allowing her to sink into the warmth of the bath.

They don’t speak again after that, not until the water goes cold and Y/N almost falls asleep in the comfort of his arms. In the meantime, he makes sure to gently swirl a clean washcloth over her skin, using his favorite lavender scented body wash, and wash her knotty hair. All the while he whispers how special she is, how she’ll never be too much, but especially not to him. He decides it’s okay if she doesn’t hear him because she’s too out of it, but hopes that his words at least seep into her subconscious so she believes the same.

#I will proof read this when I’m not so burnt out !#writing #harry styles #harry styles fan fic #harry styles fic #harry styles one shot #harry styles blurb #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x reader #harry styles smut #harry styles writing #harry styles fluff #harry styles imagine #Harry styles angst #harry styles x you #Harry styles au #harry styles oneshot #one direction

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caesium-55 · 2 months

Text

—seven days. [ vi.i ]

pairing: max verstappen x manager! reader.

summary: as the third time world champion, max verstappen's manager, you function on the belief that whatever max verstappen wanted, max verstappen shall get. but this time, after four years of working as his manager, you can't give him what he wants anymore and that was to stay.

tags: @whatamidoingwithmylife-ramdom @eugene-emt-roe @bellezaycafe @barnestatic @theseerbetweenus @wcnorris @notyouraveragemochii @lpab @vildetry06 @a-beaverhausen @formula1mount @loloekie @alucardsdaddyissues @juky-ps @cassianswh0reeee @devotedlycrookeddonut @amberpanda99 @supermaxv1 @evie-119 @spideylovin @harianaswhore

author's note: i dunno if this is good cuz i have to delete a lot of scenes to make everything fit djsjjj. AND pls listen to two weeks notice by leanna firestone. 🐝 anon shared it to me and AAAAAAAHHH it captures the main vibe of the fic

masterlist.

"New shoes?”

The shoes come in black and it features a sleek silhouette with a pointed toe and a golden heel that is shaped as the letters Y, S, and L. Max is no expert in shoes but he knows how to recognize a luxury shoe if he sees one.

“Pretty lil things, aren't they?” you bring your foot forward to flaunt it.

Max doesn't know if it’s the heels that makes your feet look pretty or if the heels look pretty because you have pretty feet. Contrary to popular belief, Max does not have a feet kink. He just knows how to appreciate the aesthetics of a body part.

“Three years of savin’ and I finally got ‘em.”

“Good for you?” Is that an appropriate thing to say to a woman who just bought nice-looking shoes?

Max sees Daniel hug you after the Azerbaijan GP. You have twinning smiles on your face. Max's curiosity grows. You pull away from the hug and wave goodbye, returning to the garage, to where Max is standing and waiting for you.

“What did you and Daniel talk about?” he asks and if he sounds like he’s demanding, he doesn't mean it.

You stop walking, finally noticing Max's presence. The smile on your face fades a little but it doesn't completely disappear. “Oh, hi? Congrats on the podium today, big guy.”

“What were you and Daniel talking about?” Max asks again.

“‘s not important.”

“I want to know.”

You give Max an odd look, probably questioning why he wants to know so badly. He doesn't know why either. He just wants to know.

“Renault has an open spot in their engineering team,” you finally say, smile growing wide. You’re literally vibrating in excitement as you say it.

Max feels like someone just poured a bucket of iced water over his body.

“Engineer? Why would you even apply in Renault’s engineering team?” he sees your face shift and he wonders if his question is offensive. It does not seem like it is. For Max anyway.

“I’m an engineer, Max,” you're gritting your teeth, Max notices.

Oh, Max realizes. This was why Christian mentioned moving her to the engineering team. He thought you’re going to be their manager or something. Do engineers get managers, too? Max doesn't know.

Max’s world shifts off its axis when he realizes the bigger meaning carried by your words. You want to leave.

“No.”

You make a weird face, “No?”

“No, stay.”

He is perfectly aware that he is in no position to ask this of you. If you want to be an engineer and chase your dreams, you can. No one has the right to stop you. That's your dream. That's your life.

But do you really need to leave?

Suddenly, this becomes like the Daniel situation all over again.

Max isn't sure the exact time you begin holding this much importance over his life that he’s suddenly afraid of your absence. Max still won't consider the two of you friends per se, but he does not want you in Renault. He wants you here, behind him, following him at all times. You don't have to follow Daniel to fucking Renault.

Renault just keeps taking everything from him. First, it’s Daniel, his best friend and teammate. Max will not allow himself to lose you over to Renault and their sucky cars.

“Funny how you think you got a say in this,” you do the thing where you shift your feet lightly so you’re facing Max fully, one hand on your waist while the other rests limp on your side, your head slightly tilts to the right. There's a bulge on your cheek, where your tongue is pressing inside it, and one of your brows is cocked.

“You don't have to go to Renault. You can stay here,” he adds and it almost sounds like he’s pleading.

“And what Max? Let all the money I spent in engineering school go to waste?”

“Do you not want to be my manager anymore?”

“No offense, buddy, but I’ll choose being an engineer.”

Fair point but Max is still hurt anyway. Why are people always leaving him? Is it that hard to choose him and love him? Is he not a good enough reason to stay? Maybe it's because he's not a world champion yet. Maybe it's because he's not someone praiseworthy yet.

“I will win next year. When I become a world champion, I’ll ask Horner to move you to the engineering team.”

Max hopes you believe him.

The 2019 season ends with Lewis Hamilton at the top. Valtteri Bottas is close behind him. After Bottas stands Max Verstappen.

He’ll understand if you're making your application letter to Renault at this very moment. And yet, you come knocking on his hotel door.

“You’re trashin’ the room again,” you say, not ask but say, when Max opens the door and this is like 2018 again when he trashed his entire hotel room for coming in fourth. You even wear the same clothes as last year—a Red Bull polo shirt and a black pencil skirt with the same cream tote bag with peach prints but the shoes are different. “Sour loser much?”

“Fuck you.”

“Fuck you, too,” you reply in a nonchalant tone, not even taking offense that Max has cursed you out. “Lemme see your hands. I have a cold canned beer.”

“I didn't punch the wall.”

Not yet at least. He’s definitely planning to, before you have decided to knock on his door.

“Well then,” you thrust the beer towards him. “Good thing’s beer has multiple purposes. Bruised knuckles? Beer. Bruised ego? Beer.”

Angrily, Max takes the beer in your hands. He really can't deal with you right now.

“Don't worry, man. You’ll be world champion one day. You have the makings of one,” you assure him and your words are too unexpected that Max stiffens. “Not this year but one day.”

“Why can't it be this year?” he asks after a few seconds' pause.

You shrug your shoulders, “Not your time yet, I suppose.”

Then, you turn around and walk away, the loud clicks of your black and gold heels echoing in the hotel hallway until it fades into silence, while Max stands there at the open door, a cold canned beer in his hand.

He’s trying (emphasis on the word trying) to prepare himself snacks so he can eat while sim-racing. It's the off-season right now and his mother and his sister have decided to visit his place in Monaco and stay for a few days before they fly together to Belgium and spend the holidays there. Daniel’s name appears on the notification bar of Max’s phone.

daniel: is [name] in monaco rn or did she go home for the off season

max: why would she be in monaco right now

daniel: she lives there

max: [name] lives in monaco?

daniel: you didn't know??

daniel: she’s been living there since last year

daniel: ever wondered why she comes by our building a lot?

max: how am i supposed to know

daniel: she's your manager

max: well we don't exactly talk about where we live

daniel: i cant believe you

daniel: shes been living there since she was my manager

max: that long???

daniel: i cant with you sometimes

daniel: neways do u have her number?

daniel: i think she got it changed a month ago and i forgot to ask her

daniel: she's not answering my messages in ig

max: yeah yeah i do

daniel: great

daniel: can u call her and ask if she’s in the country?

max: ok

daniel: cool cool

daniel: appreciate it,, man

You answer the phone on the second ring.

“Need anythin’, man?”

When will he hear you call him Max rather than man, dude, bro, big guy, big boy, darlin’ (teasingly), or loser?

“Hi [Name]. I’m calling because, uh, Daniel messaged me,” he begins. “He said you’re not replying to his messages on Instagram.”

“Oh, my bad, my bad. I’ll check it out later, still out playin’ ball right now.”

“He’s asking if you're in Monaco right now.”

“Yeah, yeah, I am. Flight’s still next week. Why’s he askin’?”

“Okay,” he doesn't know what else is there to say. “I didn't even know you live in Monaco.”

“Well, I do,” he hears someone yelling your name. “Aight, anythin’ else you wanna know?”

“Nothing. Nothing else.”

“Okay. Stay safe out there, my guy.”

“You, too.”

The call ends and suddenly, the world feels too silent.

max: yeah she's here

max: she said her flight is scheduled next week

daniel: perfect

daniel: i have her christmas gift with me rn she better be there when i land

daniel: i have to wrap this up on the plane

daniel: do you know how hard it is to gift wrap smth during a flight

Max’s brows furrow. Perhaps he has underestimated the depth of their friendship. They're close enough that they give each other gifts. Or at least, she’s close with Daniel enough that he buys her gifts.

max: safe travels daniel

Daniel arrives a day later, which coincidentally is the same day Sophie, Max’s mother, and Victoria, his sister, landed in Monaco as well. Max’s mother adores Daniel, which is not surprising because everyone adores Daniel.

“Join us for lunch, Daniel,” Sophie invites him. Max and Victoria stand behind her. The three of them are heading out for lunch when they come across Daniel, who is also heading out, at the lobby of the apartment building.

“Sorry, Sophie, but I have an appointment today with [Name],” Daniel scratches his nape and smiles apologetically. Sophie perks up at the mention of [Name].

“Max’s manager?”

“Yes, Max’s manager,” Daniel nods enthusiastically.

“Invite her, too! I’ve always wanted to meet her. She sounds like an amazing girl from what Max has told me.”

Max groans, “Mom, please.”

He may or may not have talked about [Name] during his calls with his mother. Mostly, it's complaints. His mother has laughed at him, used to hee son's constant complaining. Despite that, she still thinks [Name] is good for her son. It's good that someone is able to rein you in when needed, she said.

“Oh, I’m sure she’ll love it. How about I call her and we’ll meet you at the restaurant in a few?” Daniel says.

Everything is settled. Max has reserved a private room for the whole lunch meeting so he can enjoy the privacy of lunch with his family. Less than an hour later, you arrive with Daniel.

Max almost drops the fork when he sees you walking towards them, just a few steps behind the grinning Daniel.

You look different than usual. Max is yet to decide if it's a good type of different or not, because when his eyes land on you, he feels like a thousand elephants have begun a violent rampage in his chest.

You’re not wearing the usual Red Bull polo shirt—perhaps that's why Max feels odd because he’s so used to seeing you wearing it—and instead, you were in a bustier jumpsuit with a white long-sleeved button-up shirt under it.

It looks a little too tight in Max’s opinion, hugging your body in a way that Max thinks you cannot breathe. He can't even breathe when he looks at you right now.

Daniel and you stop in front of the table and Max’s mother stands to kiss you both on the cheek. Max then notices that you’re carrying two bouquets in your hand. Funny how they're so huge and colorful but for some reason, he hasn't noticed them since you walked into the room.

“For you, Ma’am,” you smile as you hand the bouquet to Max’s mother, who gasps in delight. “Welcome to Monaco.”

Then, you turn to Victoria and hand her the other bouquet, “For you, too, Miss Victoria. Welcome to Monaco.”

“Please, have a seat, you two. We’ve already ordered for you," Max's mother says. You and Daniel sit down.

You and Daniel quickly engage in conversation with Max’s mother. Victoria elbows Max, leaning over his ear to whisper, “You have a good manager, Max.”

“You just like her because she got you flowers," Max whispers back.

Victoria chuckles and the Verstappen siblings join in the conversation.

Lunch is a pleasant event. Everyone loves the food. Everyone laughs. Everyone is having a good time. However, good things always come to an end. Daniel has to leave early because he has an appointment. Max is supposed to drive Victoria and his mother to the department store because they planned on shopping together as a family and buy gifts for their relatives in Belgium. But since Daniel left and he was your ride going to the restaurant, that means you have no ride going home.

You insist that you can hail a cab or even walk to your apartment since it’s “just three streets away” but Max notices that your smile looks too forced and Max calls bullshit. Max may not know where you live but he knows you're lying. Thankfully, his mother seems to share the same sentiments and push you towards Max.

“Don't worry, honey. He’s a good driver. You're in safe hands.”

“I’m really fine, Ma’am,” you try again.

“Call me Sophie,” she says, her hand comes up to your shoulder and you flinch a little. “You take good care of Max. It's the least he can do for you. Also, I’m a woman, honey. I know the pain of walking a good distance in heels. Don't subject yourself to that pain.”

You don't protest any further and the four of you hop into Max’s car. Max drives Sophie and Victoria to a department store and drops them off. He kisses his mother’s cheek as they bid a temporary goodbye. Afterwards, he instructs you to type down your address on the GPS so he can drive you to where you live.

When he reads the address you input, he snorts. You whip your head around to give him a dirty look.

“Three streets down,” he says, amused. “Really?”

“Shut up, ‘s just on the other side of the city.”

“It's still far.”

The first few minutes of the drive is silent. You sit on the passenger seat with your earbuds in and legs crossed, leaning most of your weight against the car door so your back posture sort of resembles a person with mild scoliosis. Max hears you hum along the song you’re listening to, your fingers tapping along the rhythm.

Max taps your shoulder. You turn to him, pulling off one of your earbuds.

“Somethin’ wrong?” you ask.

Why do you always assume something's wrong when he calls your attention? Does he really only talk to you when he has a problem?

Max gestures to the AUX, “You can connect your phone to my car.”

You gasp dramatically, a hand pressing on your chest, “You’re givin’ me AUX privilege? Truly honored.”

Max rolls his eyes.

“But I don't think you’ll like what I listen to,” you add.

“Try me.”

El Alfa songs have electrifying and infectious rhythms and Max may not understand the lyrics but not understanding the song lyrics can't stop a person from enjoying a song. El Alfa songs are the type of songs that you’ll hear in parties and in the streets.

“By the way,” Max begins. The song changes into something else—Sofia, the title reads, sung by Alvaro Soler. It's a whole different vibe from the previous song. “Thank you for giving my mum and sister flowers today. That was very thoughtful of you.”

“Just trynna be nice,” you say nonchalantly. “Glad they liked it.”

“Also, you look nice today.”

You slowly turn to him. You have this weird expression on your face like you have an aneurysm but also indigestion and mild stroke.

“Did you eat somethin’ weird at the restaurant?”

“No, I didn't.”

“Then why are you playin’ nice?”

Max rolls his eyes, “I can punch you if you want.”

“Yeah, right, as if you can. Your mother raised you too well to throw hands to the ladies.”

Max closes his mouth.

“See? I’m right,” you continue. “You’ll fight any man on the grid but you won't fight me even though I annoy you every day. You're not like your father, Max.”

Max clears his throat awkwardly. He does not know how to respond to you. You're too… too… honest.

“But thank you,” you say. “Borrowed this from my roomie ‘cuz I don't own any nice clothes.”

You wear branded clothing way too well for someone to think otherwise.

The song switches. Danza Kuduro starts playing. Max knows this one. He watched Fast Five.

Max stops the car outside the apartment building, but instead of hopping off, you rummage through your tote bag—still the cream-colored one with peach prints, it looks so worn down now—and pull out a….it looks like a beaded bracelet but it's not closed on the ends.

“What's this?” he asks when you hand it to him. Red and navy blue beads—the color of Red Bull.

“Consider this as my gift for the holidays. I made Daniel one so it makes sense that I give you one as well.”

Oh. Max blinks at you then glances down at the little thing in his palm. Something warm blooms in Max’s heart.

“That's very thoughtful of you.”

Panic follows. His head snaps up.

“But I haven't bought you anything.”

“That's okay, man,” you smile and open the door. “Thanks a lot for today.”

You step outside and close the door after you before Max can even utter another word. Max watches as you jog inside the building. He shakes his head when you disappear from his vision, hangs the beaded keychain with his keys, and drives back to where he drops his mother and sister off earlier.

Sophie notices the keychain and compliments it. She asks his son if he got into the hobby of creating things out of beads. Max shakes his head and tells her that the keychain is a gift from you.

His mother visibly lights up, “You should get her a gift!”

Max gets into thinking. Yeah, he should.

He meets you a day before your flight to Texas in the lobby of the building where you live. You gave him a keychain. It's only appropriate that he gives you keys. (You don't seem very happy with the gift though for God knows what reason but Max is adamant on giving it to you and will not stop at a no.

“I want you close,” he says, surprised by the sincerity that exited his mouth.

“Well, I don't.” Your words sting a little. Max ignores it.

He ends up giving you a different key. You say the other key is too expensive. Max is not thrilled but it's still a key and this certain key, you accept. So Max is happy.)

Max flies to Belgium a few days after you and celebrates the holidays with his mother's side of the family. He calls your cell in the middle of the night, Belgium is six hours ahead of Texas so Max is sure it's around four in the afternoon from where you are. He does not expect you to answer as quickly as you did.

“Somethin’ wrong?” your voice sounds rough like you’ve been asleep.

“Hi, uhm,” Max clears his throat. He’s a little tipsy right now and his words are flying around in his brain. “Happy holidays.”

There's a pause.

“You called me for that?”

“Can you stop being mean? It's the holidays.”

“Are you drunk?”

“Kinda?”

“Well then,” Max hears a ruffle of sheets and suddenly, he feels bad for waking you up. “Happy holidays to you, too, bud. Appreciate the effort and the money you spent on making this call. International calls are expensive as fuck.”

They're not. At least, Max thinks they're not.

“Can I get your Instagram? The one you use to talk to Daniel?”

“My priv? Why?”

“Because I just want it.”

“Brat. You can’t follow that account usin’ your public account. PR has access to your account and they’ll see my shit. I don't want them to see my shit.”

“Then, I’ll make a private account and we’ll follow each other.”

He hears you sigh.

“You promise not to give PR access to that account?”

“Hm. I promise.”

“Yeah, okay, whatever. Send me the details and I’ll follow you when I wake up, aight?”

Max giggles, “Okay.”

“Anythin’ else?”

“Nothing, nothing.”

“Aight, I’ll continue my nap. You enjoy yourself there.”

“Okay.”

Then, COVID happens.

#mv33 x reader #max verstappen x reader #f1 x reader #formula 1 #formula one #max verstappen #max verstappen x you #f1 imagines #manager!reader #mv33 #mv1 #mv1 x reader #mv33 x you

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azriels-shadowsinger · 3 months

Note

Could you pls do prompt #6 with azriel 🙏🙏🙏( “I don’t want to go to sleep with this hanging between us.” or “I can’t sleep with you still mad at me.” )

“I don’t want to go to sleep with this hanging between us.” or “I can’t sleep with you still mad at me.”

Azriel x Reader

wc: 900

a/n: i love when men grovel

prompt list

You were absolutely furious at Azriel. He had promised not once, but three times, that he would be home in time for dinner tonight. And yet, here you are, staring at his cold plate of food.

You hear the front door open and shut. Azriel walks towards the kitchen, seeing the pots and pans and realizing his mistake. Without saying a word, you angrily dump his plate in the trash and begin to scrub the dishes.

“Sweetheart…” he tries to approach you, but the furious glare you give him makes him pause. “Y/n, I’m so sorry. I lost track of time, and Elain needed help-“

“Of course, it’s Elain again! When am I going to be your priority, huh? I’m your gods damned mate, Azriel, and yet I always seem to come second to Elain. Get your fucking priorities straight, because I’m tired of the disappointment.” You snap.

“You know how she gets, y/n! Try to be understanding. She needs someone to help her through these bad days.” You roll your eyes at his excuses.

“I don’t want to hear it, Az.” You let out a frustrated sigh.

“You’re being unreasonable y/n. Stop being so sensitive and try to understand the situation!” He yells. He sees the change in your expression at his words and realizes he went too far. “Y/n, I’m-“ You cut him off.

“Go stay at the townhouse. I don’t want to look at you right now.” You say coldly before shutting the door to your shared room, locking him out.

You wait until you hear the front door open, indicating that Azriel has left, before you let the tears fall.

———

As if the gods knew you were having a bad night, a heavy storm pours down on Velaris. Any other night, you would enjoy the sounds of thunder while wrapped in your mate’s arms. Tonight, however, each clap of thunder makes you shudder.

You gave up on trying to sleep after hours of tossing and turning, so you decided to go make a cup of tea.

As you wait for the teapot to boil, you hear a banging on your door. You let out a heavy sigh, almost certain you know who is on the other side of that door. You open the door to see Azriel, completely soaked from the rain.

He is panting heavily, bracing himself on the door frame to steady himself from the wind. Cauldron, did he fly here in this storm?

“I don’t want to go to sleep with this hanging between us still.” He says breathlessly.

His eyes are bloodshot, and you try your hardest not to feel bad for him right now, but you can’t help it. Azriel is always so deeply affected by your fights, probably because he still believes deep down that he doesn’t deserve you. You can’t help the way your heart aches at the thought of him beating himself up so badly over this.

“Get inside you idiotic bat. You’re going to catch a cold.” You pull him in the door and shut out the raging storm. Water drips from him all over the floor. “Wait here, I’ll get a towel.” You mutter. When you return a moment later to hand him the towel, he immediately pulls you into a tight hug.

“I’m so sorry, my love. I am forgetful and horrible and you deserve so much better. You were right, I hadn’t been prioritizing you, but that stops now. I was so so stupid to ever take you for granted for even a second. If you want, I’ll never speak to Elain again, if that’s what will make you feel better. I’m so sorry. I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness.” Your heart aches at the pain in his voice. You pull Azriel closer, and almost immediately he buries his face in your neck. You run your fingers through his hair in an attempt to calm him.

“I know you’re sorry, Az. You need to stop saying you don’t deserve me, though. You have such a big heart, that sometimes you stretch yourself too thin by trying to help everyone. Just because I get angry at you, doesn’t mean I love you any less. I understand that Elain has needed some extra assurance lately. And I’m not asking you to never speak to her again, that’s a bit dramatic.” Azriel sniffles and pulls away to look at you. “I just need you to make sure you make time for me, even when you are helping everyone else.”

“I will, I promise. I love you, y/n. I’m so sorry.”

“I forgive you.” He releases the tension from his body at your words.

Azriel spends a few more minutes drying off before following you to bed, immediately pulling you to his chest.

“I can’t sleep when you’re upset with me.” He mumbles quietly, pulling you closer.

“I know, Az. We’re okay, let’s talk more in the morning.” He nods sleepily.

———

The next morning you wake up to breakfast in bed, four bouquets of flowers, and coffee from your favorite cafe. You’re not even sure how he had time to do all this, but before you can question it, Azriel is bringing you another plate of apology pancakes.

I just want to hug azriel🥺

this is the last one for tonight. i will post more tomorrow!

prompt list

#acotar #a court of thorns and roses #acotar fic #acotar fanfic #azriel #azriel acotar #azriel x reader #acotar x reader #my writing

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inuyashaluver · 4 months

Note

Could you do one with Esme Morgan or Georgia Stanway? pls I love your fics 🤍

bucket list - georgia stanway

georgia stanway x reader

description: in which you and your best friend make bucket lists and yours leaves you both questioning the status of your friendship

warnings: quite long i think, silly silly pining, swearing

a/n: hiya!! went with g on this one as i have one for es coming sooonnn, hope you enjoy!! thanks so much for the request and the love ❤️

⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆

your best friend, georgia made it her number one priority to tease you. she’d like to say it was her job, no matter what you did, she’d always be there to tease the shit out of you because she just couldn’t help it.

she loved to see your shy smile or annoyed face with a groan at her teasing but she would never tell you that.

—

you grew up with georgia, best friends ever since you met at the england youth camps when she accidentally kicked a ball straight into the back of your head.

“head’s up!” a voice beckons while you chat with ella and alessia. “ow, fuck!” you let out a pained laugh, whipping your head around to see an apologetic, worried georgia running towards you.

“i’m so sorry, (y/n)” she says earnestly, placing a hand on your shoulder, giving it a light squeeze as you look at her with wide eyes. “georgia, i’m fine” you say assuringly, slightly confused at the girl’s stern expression. “let me make it up to you?” georgia pleads, taking her hand off your shoulder and letting it hang by her side. you smile at the slightly older girl, “georgia, please, you don’t have to do anything” you let out a small giggle, georgia lets out her own as well, “i’ll make it up to you, promise!” she winks, waving goodbye to you and running off towards niamh.

when you turn back to ella and alessia, they send you cheeky grins. “what?” you laugh, “nothing” they both quip, smirking at each other before passing a ball between them.

—

georgia did in fact make it up to you, the girl would buy you bags of lollies or she’d get you a drink almost everyday. every time she walked in with that bright smile, the two of you would talk for what felt like hours when in reality minutes. the two of you grew extremely close over the years and everyone thought it was so endearing that your friendship and obvious love was so strong.

through the affirmation of almost everyone of your teammates, you’d come to terms that you liked georgia more than a friend but you would never tell her that, you couldn’t afford to lose her.

throughout the years of being georgia’s best friend, you’d seen all her romantic partners come and go. it broke your heart when they came along but you always put on a brave face and a friendly smile whenever you were introduced to them.

everyone would look at you sympathetically when she’d bring her special someone along to a dinner or a party, many of them giving you long hugs to cheer you up. and every time someone did, georgia would quirk her brow and ask what was wrong only to be met with your bright smile and the shake of your head.

“nothing” you smile, driving georgia borderline insane to the point where she couldn’t sleep at the thought of your kicked-puppy expression.

—

“we need to find you someone, (y/n/n)! it’s time!” georgia slings her arm over your shoulder during an england team dinner, leah (your ultimate older sister figure) sits across from you and sends you a knowing look when you glance up at her.

“i’m fine, g” you laugh, sipping nervously on your drink when you hear her groan. “no, it’s not fine, love, i want you to be happy” she pleads, giving you a quick kiss on your temple which makes your cheeks turn pink.

you swallow the lump in your throat, tracing your finger over the rim of the glass in front of you, “i am happy, georgia, just drop it, please” you utter, feeling her eyes burn into the side of your head. georgia opens her mouth to say something more but lets out a pained yelp instead when leah kicks her under the table.

you look at georgia concerned, she just smiles at you sheepishly, taking her arm off your shoulder and placing them in her lap.

“sorry” she mumbled,

“(y/n)? come to the bathroom with me?” leah smiles, you nod instantly and the older girl hoists you up from your seat, and as soon as the girl’s arm is over your shoulder, you break down.

“i’m so sorry, darling” she mutters, running her hand up and down your arm comfortingly. your tears run down your cheeks when you make it to the bathroom, your breathe shakily as leah speaks sweetly to you.

“why doesn’t she like me, lee?” you look up at her tearfully and she’s heartbroken, pulling you into a hug. “she’s silly if she doesn’t, love” leah retorts, squeezing you gently and helping you look somewhat presentable to go back to the table.

georgia looks at you with wide eyes when you sit back next to her, your glossy eyes sending a dagger straight to her heart at the though of her making you upset. “you okay?” she whispers, “i’m okay” you smile and nod at her, quickly tapping her thigh before focusing on a conversation beside you.

—

to get georgia off your back, you let her set you up with one of her friends. when you walked into training the day after your date, she sends a wolf whistle your way.

“hello, missy, the date went well, huh? she really liked you” georgia teases, grabbing your hand with a gentle squeeze to sit you down next to her.

she sits cross legged in her cubby and prompts you to do the same.

you let out a nervous laugh, in all honesty, the date did go well but she wasn’t georgia and it killed you. you didn’t want anyone but her and you could never tell her that.

“it was alright” you shrug, georgia just shakes her head amusingly at you, “it was alright” she mocks your voice and laughs when you slap her knee.

“come on! don’t leave me hanging, love, it’s been killing me” she pleads, grabbing your hand again and holding it in her lap.

“she’s lovely, but i don’t think she’s really my type” you cringe, scratching the back of your neck with your free hand.

“not your type?” she cocks her head to the side, thinking of what to say when you look at her sheepishly.

“what’s your type then?” she questions simply, causing you to choke on nothing. her eyes widen and she passes you her water bottle, you drink from it quickly while georgia watches worriedly.

one you calmed down, you and georgia both let out little giggles.

“um, i don’t know” you exhale, “well, i hope she makes me laugh, super kind and um..maybe plays football as well?” you answered, looking right into her eyes and she just nods. “i’ll work on it, i need my best girl to have her own best girl” she teases with a wink, causing you to roll your eyes with a shy smile.

“all right, stanway, get your boots on” you pat her thigh gently and stand up, walking over to your own cubby to get ready for training.

before she walks out to the pitch, she gives you a sloppy kiss on the cheek which makes you squeal surprisingly, pushing her off you with false grimace as she laughs loudly at your expression. she completely misses how your cheeks are burning red when she runs out of the room.

she was killing you. you were killing her.

—

it was during the world cup in australia where your friendship took a complete turn. leah wasn’t there for you to confide in and it made you nervous.

during the long plane ride, the staff decided to give the team random things to do for the duration of the plane, one of them being, make a bucket list with 10 aspirations for the year.

you guys would make them on the plane and then present them to each other during dinner that night.

you and georgia smile excitedly when you’re given the colourful paper and the glittery pens, both of you wordlessly competing with one another about who would make the better one.

everyone diligently worked on their bucket lists, laughter and bright smiles filling the plane as you all wrote down your wishes for the year.

georgia, much to your amusement, tried to copy your list, claiming she was stumped.

“g! come on, man” you groan, placing a hand on her cheek as you push her peering eyes away from your paper. “love! come on, man!” she mocks, attempting to bite your hand on her cheek, you gasp and move it away from her, grabbing your paper and clutching it to your chest.

“(y/n/n), please, i don’t know what to write” she whines, attempting to grab your paper with a giggle, “just make it up then, copycat!” you stick your tongue out at her and she smiles amusingly.

she rolls her eyes at you, huffing out a sigh and writing random things down on her paper.

—

it was dinner time, all of the girls were excited to share their aspirations for the year. georgia the entire time she was awake on the plane teased you relentlessly, attempting to steal your paper, prompting you to run away from her as soon as you landed.

a lot of the responses for the lists were things like: ‘win the world cup’ (i’m sorry), ‘travel more’ etc, you were nervous to share your list, it was forward and you knew it. you just wondered what everyone would think, a specific girl in particular.

after georgia shared hers, you were the only one left, she lists you from your seat after your refusal, carrying you over to the front of the room and placing you down with a satisfied smile.

you look at everyone nervously and they all send you encouraging smiles, you take a deep breath and start.

your list too had the world cup wish, the travel wish and some other random ones you put prompting the girls to laugh. but when you got to your last one, they all smirk at you knowingly.

“get a kiss from someone i love” you say shyly, rolling your eyes at the smirks and whistles as you wave them off. georgia smiles at you when you sit beside her, “let’s help each other with our lists” she whispers in your ear, you nod with a smile, internally cursing yourself for writing your last bullet point.

—

georgia tossed and turned all night after the team dinner. you were rooming together but you were fast asleep. she smiles looking over at you bundled up in the hotel bed, taking a picture of you and mindlessly setting it as her lock screen.

the truth is, georgia has always had feelings for you, she just couldn’t admit it to anyone else because she was afraid. she would date people to distract herself from you but it just made it worse, having to imagine her lover was anyone but you was torture.

so when she attempted to set you up on dates to see you happy, she thought it would diminish her feelings for good. obviously, it didn’t, the thought of you with someone else had her blood curdling and her heart breaking all at the same time.

she rose up from her bed and looked at the small desk across the room, seeing both of your lists perched up there. she gets out of bed and takes yours in her hands, her fingers trace over your carefully crafted list, smiling at your pretty handwriting.

she takes a photo of it, making a mental note of helping you achieve everything there, even if she wasn’t the lucky one to make the last one happen. (idiots).

—

it was the next day, georgia was clingier than usual and it made you curious. when you two got to training, she had her arm around you whenever she could, making you laugh and teasing you as much as she could.

alessia and ella look at each other after witnessing each interaction, laughing at your pink cheeks for the girl that could easily be masked as exhaustion from training. you walk past the two girls while georgia trails closely behind you,

“maybe number 10 will come true, hey, (y/n/n)?” ella teases, getting a little slap on the shoulder from alessia when your eyes widen. georgia tenses and her eyes look between the two girls, then to you and back to them again. she could feel her jealousy brew, unaware that the girls were insinuating that number 10 would be her.

you send them both a little glare when georgia nears you again, they both smile and walk off. “number 10 is quite the talker” georgia nudges your shoulder with her own, “yeah, it’s stupid really” you shrug, eyes trained on both of you walking on the pitch. “it’s not stupid!” she exclaims, no hint of teasing in her tone causing you to look up at her in surprise.

“really?” your jaw is slightly slack, “really?” she mocks, you laugh instantly, there she is, your georgia.

—

that night when you both made it back to the hotel room, you both flop down on your respective beds, both of you smiling happily as you sink into the mattress.

“so..just out of curiosity, who would you want to do number 10 with” georgia’s voice breaks the comfortable silence in the room. she looks over at you nervously, you focus your attention on the ceiling when you feel your breathing slightly quicken.

“oh i don’t know” you laugh nervously, “i mean i have someone in mind but it won’t work out” you admit, a tinge of sadness laced in each word you spoke, “really?” georgia sits up, looking at you expectantly, in turn, you move to sit up too, resting your back on the head board of the bed as you look at her with an unreadable expression on your face.

“yeah, she doesn’t like me back so definitely likely it won’t happen” you sigh, avoiding looking into her eyes, terrified she would catch on to your words.

“i’m sure she does, go on then, who is it?” she smiles, moving off her bed to sit in front of you on yours.

you begin to fidget with your hands, picking the skin around your nails, a nervous habit that georgia always had to stop you from doing, she instantly moves closer and takes both hands in her own, giving you a stern but somewhat affectionate expression.

“i don’t know if i should say, i don’t want you to hate me or anything” you mumble, looking down at your entangled hands. “i could never hate you, don’t be silly, just tell me, love, this is a safe space” she smiles, running her thumbs over your knuckles.

“it’s you” your heart beats out of your chest, you can hear each frantic beat filling the room as georgia looks at you in a surprised manner. her grip on your hands tighten, “i love you” you utter, you can feel your body overheating under the gaze of georgia, her mouth is agape as her eyes trail over your features.

“i’m number 10?” she inwardly asks under her breath, but your proximity makes it easy for you to hear so you nod at her words. “you’ve always been number 10, and i know you don’t like me back and it’s okay, just please don’t pull yourself away from me” you plead, your eyes slowly brimming with tears when her brows furrow.

“woah, who said i don’t like you back?” she questions, moving closer to you so your knees were touching.

“what?” you blurt, if you weren’t already red, this would’ve set you on fire. georgia's cheeks fill with pink as she smiles at you, “baby, i’ve always loved you” she speaks earnestly and you both are swarmed with butterflies.

“georgia” you utter, “it’s always been you, love,” she declares, “i tried to distract myself from you but it doesn’t work, they’re not you” she expands, her hands intertwine with yours.

“it’s the same with you, no one comes close to you, g” you admit affectionately. both of you smile at each other knowingly, you both loved each other and it’s all that mattered at this point.

after a few minutes of just looking at each other with lovesick glances, you break the silence. “so..” you grin, georgia giggles brightly, her eyes trained on your lips for a moment before looking back into your eyes.

“can i help you with number 10, baby?” georgia whispers, your breath hitches at her forwardness, nonetheless, you nod. she smiles at you before tugging you forward, pulling you to sit on her lap. both of you look at each other shyly, this foreign yet familiar closeness somehow working completely.

you place your hands on the sides of her neck, your fingers playing with the loose hairs that have fallen from her ponytail. her hands seek refuge on your hips, her thumb rubbing back and forth over your shirt.

she looks into your eyes lovingly, seeking silent confirmation from you to see if you really wanted this. your enthusiastic smile and your excited eyes glancing between her eyes and lips said everything and more.

georgia, painfully slowly moves forward, her lips grazing yours without actually kissing you just yet. a tease, as per usual, she was still your georgia. you huff out a laugh against her lips and she pulls back to look at you amusingly,

“what’re you laughing at” she giggles, you shake your head at her and pull her forward towards you again. “you’re such a tease, stanway” you say against her lips, closing the gap and melding your lips together.

almost like you’d done it before, your lips move together simultaneously. she hums into your mouth and you smile against her, giving her your own noise of enjoyment as she pulls you closer to her, your bodies pressed up against each other.

after a few seconds, you feel her tongue lightly working its way into your mouth and you gladly accept, both of you making out until you had to pull away reluctantly for air.

she pulls away breathlessly and looks at you with blown out pupils and kiss swollen lips, almost looking into a mirror with your identical appearance. “you’re perfect” she mutters, pecking your lips a couple of times while you giggle against her, “you’re perfect” you mock her and she pinches your hip lightly, “it’s not nice being teased, huh?” you laugh, she kisses your cheek repeatedly as she lowers you onto the bed, hovering over you slightly,

“whatever, worked on you though, you love me” she cheeses out, nudging your nose with her own. “hm, i guess i do, but you do too” you smile, puckering your lips up at her and smiling when she instantly places a chaste kiss on your lips again. “yeah, i do” she whispers against your lips, settling on top of you and pulling you into a tight embrace.

—

when you both waked into training the next day with shy smiles and intertwined hands, screams and cheers echoed in the change rooms. “fuck yes!” ella screams, jumping around with alessia while everyone fusses over the two of you. somehow, leah was facetimed and the girl teared up. “my little babies are all grown up” she coos, the phone shoved into your face as you sit in georgia’s lap to talk to her.

“turns out she liked me the whole time, lee” you giggle, georgia nods instantly and kisses your cheek. leah smiles at you both, admiring two of her best friends so giddy over each other.

“i’m so happy for both of you” leah speaks full of affection, ruining the moment when her captain side comes out. “okay, love you both but, training, now!” she exclaims, blowing you both a kiss and hanging up promptly.

—

when you both got back that night in the hotel room, georgia grabs a pen and checks off number 10 on your list, giving you a cheeky smile before joining you for a cuddle in bed.

⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆

you know the drill, just pretend it’s you, ily kei xx

liked by leahwilliamsonn and 44,232 others

stanwaygeorgia: my best girl

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yourname: you gave your best girl her own best girl, a cutie you are, stanway!!

↳ stanwaygeorgia: my cute girlfriend just quoted me

yourname: forever my number 10 xx

↳ stanwaygeorgia: honoured

leahwilliamsonn: took you both long enough

↳ yourname: i’m sorry i cried over this idiot to you for years

↳ leahwilliamsonn: here anytime, my girl

↳ stanwaygeorgia: watch it. both of you.

ellatoone: where’s the photo creds?

↳ stanwaygeorgia: tooney took this

↳ ellatoone: thanks.

#woso #woso community #woso fanfics #woso one shot #woso x reader #woso imagine #georgia stanway #georgia stanway x reader

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alessiasfreckles · 5 months

Text

Advantage (Leah Williamson x reader)

After colliding with another player, you have a concussion and have to stay home. Leah volunteers to look after you.

warnings: injury / concussion, sick, very mild angst if you squint

A/N: based off this request! I hope you like it! also any doctors pls don't come for me i've never had a concussion idk what the recovery looks like. part 2 here!

-----

The crowd went silent as your body fell limply to the ground. The game had been going so well up until that point, you were 3-0 up, and you were racing towards the goal with the ball high in the air, your eyes never leaving it as you jumped up to hit it with your head. That was all you could remember. Your teammates rushed towards you, the ball lying forgotten on the grass as the ref ran over.

“Shit, she’s not moving,” Katie exclaimed, turning around to flag down the medics who were already making their way across the pitch. “Get over here, she needs help, now!”

Leah was knelt down by your side, careful not to touch you in case it was something serious, like a back or neck injury. “It’s going to be okay, y/n,” she said, her voice wavering slightly. She was mostly saying it to calm her own nerves, trying to convince herself you were okay.

“What happened?” Lotte asked Alessia, who was stood anxiously chewing her lip.

“I’m not sure, I- I was so focused on the ball as well,” she said, feeling guilty for not paying better attention. “She jumped up for the ball and the defender, fuck, what’s her name, the big one, went for it as well, they must have hit heads.”

Everyone was gathered around you like a protective wall, guarding you from the cameras and the crowd, who were talking quietly amongst themselves, worry rippling through the stadium. The medics carefully moved your limp body onto the stretcher, and the last view most of the girls on the field had of you was your body being carried away.

Your eyes fluttered open to see the overhead lights of the hallway as the medics carried you towards an ambulance waiting outside. “What’s- what’s going on?” you asked, groaning slightly.

“You’ve had a head injury, y/n,” one of the medics told you gently. “You have to go to the hospital to be checked for a concussion.”

“Oh,” you said weakly, “okay.”

---

The hospital released you after keeping you in for observation for a few hours, determining that whilst you had a concussion, it was only a mild one. The team doctor drove you home, telling you to rest up and make sure to drink lots of fluids. You were surprised to see the lights on in your house, when you pulled up, but brushed it off thinking that maybe you’d forgotten to turn them off that morning.

When you opened the door, however, you were surprised to find Leah, Beth, Viv, and Katie sat on your sofa.

“Y/n!” Leah exclaimed, standing up quickly and rushing over to give you a hug. “How are you feeling? Thank god you’re okay.”

“Remember, Lee, don’t crowd her,” Katie said with a grin, but she couldn’t hide the concern on her face.

“How are you feeling?” Beth asked. “Jonas told us that they said it’s a concussion, but not too bad, right?”

“Uh, yeah,” you said weakly, with a smile. “yeah, I’m okay, mostly. But, um, what are you guys doing here?”

“Oh!” Leah blushed. “Well, we thought someone should be here, so you’re not just home alone, and we all wanted to make sure you were okay- well, the whole team did, obviously, but we thought it’d be better if it was just a few of us so we weren’t crowding you!”

“That’s really thoughtful, thank you,” you said, stomach fluttering at the thought of Leah being so worried about you. “The doctor did say that it’d be better for someone to be here tonight and tomorrow. Sorry, I know it’s our day off, so everyone probably has plans, but-”

“Don’t be silly, y/n!” Leah said quickly, and behind her, Beth and Viv shot each other a knowing look. “We’re all happy to look after you. I can stay, at least tonight.”

“Thank you,” you smiled warmly, before you were hit with a wave of nausea. “Oh, I think I’m going to be sick-”

You clapped a hand over your mouth as Katie grabbed a bowl they’d put nearby and quickly put it in front of you. Leah held your hair back and rubbed a hand on your back as you threw up, and you grimaced.

“Ugh, ‘m sorry, that was gross,” you said weakly.

“Here, have some water,” Viv said, holding a glass. You took it gratefully as Katie stood up.

“I’m sorry, chick, I’m going to have to head out,” she said apologetically, looking slightly queasy herself. “You know I can’t handle sick. But I’ll come round tomorrow to check on ya, with some of the other girls?”

You nodded, feeling your head start to pound. “No worries, thank you for being here. I’m starting to feel pretty tired, actually, and my head is killing me, so I think I might just go to sleep.”

Beth and Viv stood up as well, both hugging you before saying their goodbyes. And then it was just you and Leah.

“Hey, um, what actually happened, on the pitch?” you asked her. “I don’t really remember much. The doctor said that’s normal, but it’s weird, not being able to remember.”

“Well, it was the 39th minute, I think,” she began, frowning, and you couldn’t help but smile at the fact that she even knew the exact minute. “You were running for the ball, and you went to header it, but that big defender from the other team was going for it too and their head hit yours. Then, well, you just… fell to the ground.”

“Oh,” you said quietly. “Was the other player okay?”

“She was bleeding a bit, a cut on their head, but she was fine other than that.”

“That’s good. I’m… sorry,” you told her, and she looked confused.

“Sorry for what?”

“For not paying more attention. I should have seen the other player-” you started, and she cut you off with a vehement shake of her head.

“Absolutely not, y/n, don’t apologise. You didn’t do anything wrong, okay?” she said.

You nodded, still feeling somewhat guilty, but too tired to argue. Leah chuckled as you let out a big yawn. “Bed?” she asked. “For you, I mean. I’ll sleep on the sofa.”

“What? Don’t be silly,” you told her, ignoring the butterflies in your stomach. “There’s plenty of space in my bed.”

“Okay,” she smiled. “Right then, sleepy head. Did the doctor say anything about sleeping, or anything we should watch out for?”

“Um, just that it’s important that I rest a lot, I think,” you frowned, suddenly not sure. “I don’t really remember. Oh, I think she gave me some paper with information on it.”

You found the info sheet in your bag and showed it to Leah, who read through it quickly, nodding. “Well, let’s get you to bed.”

It wasn’t the first time you and the captain had shared a bed. After all, the team was like a family, people sharing beds all the time when you went away or slept over at someone’s house. Still, if you weren’t so tired, you probably would have been more nervous about the idea of sleeping so close to Leah, who you’d been harbouring a crush on for a while now. As it was, you fell asleep fairly quickly, exhausted from the day’s excitement. Leah however, still worried about you, laid awake for a while, thoughts racing. She listened to your slow, steady breathing as she scrolled on her phone, first googling ‘recovery from concussion’ and ‘what to do when someone has a concussion’, despite the fact that she knew full well what the recovery for a concussion looked like from having had one herself just a couple years before. Still, she couldn’t stop thinking about you.

“Lee?” you groaned, rolling over in bed as the sun shone through your curtains. “What’re you doing here? Fuck, it’s so bright. Ugh, my head.”

“Oops, yeah,” she said, quickly closing the curtains a little more and dimming the bright morning light. Smiling at you, she sat back down on an armchair in your bedroom, her laptop balanced on the armrest. “Sorry about that, I forgot. Anyway, morning sleepyhead! I slept over, remember? To keep an eye on you.”

“Oh, yeah, right” you mumbled, pressing a hand to the side of your head and wincing in pain.

“Here,” Leah said, jumping up and picking up a glass of water and some pain medicine she’d put on the bedside table. “Take this, it should help your head.”

You nodded, taking it from her gratefully.

“How are you feeling?” she asked.

“M’ head hurts. And I feel a bit weird. Head feels fuzzy,” you said, before sitting up. “Wait, what day is it? Do we have training? We’re going to be late!”

You stood up quickly, grabbing onto the bedpost as your head started swimming.

“Woah there!” she put her hands on your shoulders, gently pushing you back onto the bed. “Today is Monday, we don’t have training, remember? We played yesterday.”

“Oh, yeah,” you say, frowning. “I forgot.”

“That’s okay,” she told you. “It’s normal to be a bit confused after a concussion. My brain felt so fuzzy after mine.”

You nodded. “Yeah, fuzzy is a good word to describe it. Wait, you were here when I got home, right? How did you get in?”

“I have a key, remember?” she said with a laugh. You’d given her a copy of your key at some point after you started hanging out more outside of training. It came in handy when you forgot your own key, which happened more often than you’d like to admit. “Speaking of, some of the girls are going to come over later, if that’s okay? Or do you want to rest a bit more?”

“Um, I think I'll rest more for now, but it’d be nice to see them later?” you asked, still feeling tired despite having slept in.

“Of course,” Leah said, smiling warmly. “Do you want me to stay? I don’t mind, but I can come back later too, if you want? Or, I mean, I don’t have to come back at all, if you’re sick of me already.” she teased, her voice confident but a hint of worry behind her voice.

“Oh, if you have something you have to do, that’s okay, you can leave,” you told her, feeling guilty that she was spending her day off looking after you.

“I don’t have anything to do!” she quickly said. “But, I might do some shopping? I had a look in the kitchen last night and honestly, y/n, I don’t know how you survive. All you had in was some milk, a half empty jar of pesto, and some bread.”

“Oops,” you smiled lazily, the pain medicine starting to kick in. You couldn’t remember what the doctor said it was exactly, but it was strong. “I’ll be okay whilst you go shopping, Lee. I can handle myself!”

She raised an eyebrow at you and laughed. “Yeah, okay hun. Look, I’ll be back in half an hour, an hour tops, okay?”

----

True to her word, 45 minutes later the front door opened. You had slowly made your way over to the sofa after she left, planning on putting some TV on but had ended up falling asleep. Your eyes opened to the sound of the key in the lock, and when Leah came through the door carrying multiple shopping bags you smiled widely.

“LeeLee!!” you beamed, rubbing your eyes sleepily. Oh yeah, the pain meds had definitely kicked in.

“I see the pain meds have kicked in,” she said with a grin, and you gasped.

“OMG, that’s what I just said! Well, in my head. Said in my head. Ha, that rhymes,” you chuckled to yourself, before getting distracted by how many bags Leah was carrying. It was at least three.

She laughed. “Is that right?”

You nodded seriously, sitting up. “Yep. Anyway, look at all those bags! You must have bought soo much. And you’re carrying it all! You’re so strong,” you swooned, and her cheeks had a slight pink tinge to them.

“Wow, those pain meds must be strong. They’ve turned you into a right little loopy Lou,” she said as she carried the shopping through to the kitchen.

“Loopy Lou, loopy Lou,” you repeated quietly a few times. “Huh. That’s fun to say.”

“How are you feeling?” Leah asked as she came back, sitting down next to you on the sofa.

“Good,” you said, drawing out the word.

“Any nausea, any pain?”

“Hmm, nope! Actually, head hurts a bit. Right here,” you said, poking the lump on the side of your head. “Ow.”

“Yeah, that’d be where you knocked heads,” she said, carefully brushing your hand away from the sizeable lump, and you blushed when her fingers touched yours.

“You’re so pretty, Lee,” you sighed, a dopey smile on your face, and Leah let out a surprised laugh. “And your hands are so nice.”

She raised an eyebrow, curious to hear what else you had to say, but not wanting to push it. “Is that right?” she asked, her voice light.

“Yup,” you nodded, trying to make your face look more serious, but you got the feeling that it wasn’t working. “So pretty.”

“Okay, y/n,” she laughed, but the flush on her cheeks was undeniable.

“You’re blushing!” you exclaimed gleefully, poking her dimple with an outstretched finger. “You’re so cute!”

She batted your hand away playfully, still blushing. “Yeah, yeah. You’re the cute one,” she said, not looking directly at you, like she was scared of your reaction.

“Me?” you gasped dramatically. “You think I’m cute?”

“Sure do,” she looked back at you and smiled, a hint of relief in her eyes. “But I’m guessing you won’t remember any of this by tomorrow.”

“Oh,” you pouted. “But I like that you think I’m cute.”

“You do?”

“Yeah!” you nodded emphatically, then stopped quickly, wincing at the throbbing in your head. “Oof, ouch. That was a bad idea. Can I have some more pain meds?”

“Uh, yeah, I’ll get them,” Leah said, standing up. Despite her excitement at learning that apparently you felt the same way she did, she felt a twinge of guilt, a voice in the back of her mind telling her that she was taking advantage of the state that you were in.

“Thanks, LeeLee!” you beamed when she brought you some meds and a glass of water. “You’re the best.”

“Haha, yeah,” she said, shuffling awkwardly. “Um, look, y/n, I’m going to go, if that’s okay? Katie and some of the others will come over in a bit to check on you.”

“Oh, okay,” you said, frowning, and within a few minutes Leah had packed her things and left.

---------

A week later you were almost back to normal. Your head still hurt a little occasionally, and you preferred to wear sunglasses when up and about, still a little sensitive to bright lights, but the lump on the side of your head had almost disappeared. You’d spent the week recovering at home, Leah by your side for the first day and girls from the team coming by after training every day since. Leah had pulled back somewhat after that first day, and you weren’t really sure why, though you had the feeling that maybe you’d said something stupid when you were on the particularly strong pain meds you’d been given.

You’d been instructed to come back to the training grounds so that the team doctor could give you a check up and you were looking forward to being back, even if you weren’t officially back yet. You were also hoping to see Leah. The checkup didn’t take long, the doctor declaring that you could come back and slowly start training again the next day, but to take the rest of the day off. You didn’t see any of your teammates on your way to the doctor’s office, and figured that they were outside on the training pitch, which was fair enough, but you were still a little disappointed.

You left the doctors office and started to make your way to the car park, when the door to one of the changing rooms opened and someone came out, almost knocking into you.

“Shit, sorr-,” they said, holding out a hand to steady you, when you both looked up at the same time. “Y/n! Hi!”

“Hey,” you said softly, looking at Leah. You still felt like things were weird, but you didn’t know why.

“Did you just have your checkup? What did they say?” she asked, and whilst her excitement at seeing you felt genuine, you couldn’t shake the sensation that something was off.

“Oh, that I’m looking good!” you told her, debating whether or not to say anything. “Yeah, they said I can come back tomorrow. Not, like, full steam ahead, obviously, but I can slowly start training again.”

“That’s great!” she said, and then bit her lip. “Um, I should probably get going.”

“Wait-” you started as she began to turn away, and she looked at you with wide eyes. “I, um, did something happen? Did I do something? I feel like you’re upset with me, or not upset but, I don’t know. Something seems wrong.”

“I’m not upset with you,” she frowned.

“Then what’s going on? Please, talk to me, Leah,” you asked, your stomach tying itself in knots.

She sighed. “Do you remember much from Monday?”

“Not really, I guess. I vaguely remember you being there, and then some of the girls being there, but that’s kind of it,” you said, and knocked on the side of your head, smiling wryly. “A concussion and strong-ass painkillers will do that to you.”

She let out a forced laugh and you felt your stomach churn. Oh god, had you embarrassed yourself by telling her about your crush? “Why, did something happen? Did I say something?”

“Kind of,” she said, not meeting your eyes. She thought about lying but had a feeling that you’d know if she did. “You, uh, called me pretty. A few times. And cute. And, um, said that I had nice hands.”

“Oh,” you said in a whisper, desperately fighting the urge to run and hide. “I’m sorry.”

“No, no!” she interjected. “Shit, sorry, no, that’s not what I, uh. No, please don’t apologise. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

You frowned in confusion. “What do you mean? Why have you been avoiding me then?”

“It’s my fault,” she started, and sighed again. “Look, I said some stuff back, okay? And it wasn’t professional or even just okay of me to do that, whilst you were in the state you were in.”

“What kind of stuff?”

“I, well, I might have said that you were the cute one.”

“Okay…,” you said slowly, waiting for the rest. When nothing came, you let out a laugh. “Wait, that’s it? You’ve been avoiding me because I told you I think you’re cute, and you said it back?”

She shuffled her feet, looking down. “Well, I didn’t want to be taking advantage of you!” she protested, and you couldn’t help but smile.

“I hardly think that counts as taking advantage of me,” you lightly countered, stepping closer to her, emboldened by her confession. “So, you think I’m cute, huh?”

“So, you think I’m pretty, and cute, and have nice hands, huh?” Leah retorted, the guilt and worry she had been feeling fading away.

“Sure do, Williamson,” you smirked, taking another step towards her, figuring that you’d already told her once so you might as well admit to it. Now you were only a few inches away from her, and as you glanced at her lips and back up to her eyes, she reached up a hand to cup your cheek. Leaning forward, she placed a soft kiss against your lips, and you tried very hard to ignore the way your stomach felt like it was flipping, focusing on the way her lips felt against yours, something you’d spent so long imagining.

“You know,” she said as she broke away, smiling teasingly. “Last week you kept calling me LeeLee, not Williamson.”

#i really struggled with this one but i hope it turned out okay #leah williamson #leah williamson x reader #arsenal wfc x reader #woso #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso x reader #awfc #leah williamson fluff #hannah writes fics

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yourpsicodelicbitch · 11 months

Text

Ascendants at different degrees 🦚🦢

my natal mercury is square with transiting mercury 😭 km pls. my mind has been a MESS I can’t and that’s why all my fucking ideas seemed difficult to write. srry if it’s not it.

julianlandini

Ascendant at Pisces degree (12° or 24°)

that’s fucking meee. i have this fairy vibe or they often call me hippie. that sensible and humanitarian side it’s there, the wanting to contribute for the best of others, to make that world they dreamed of basing it on the different perspective of others, of what the other have felt and how they have felt when they witnessed it. since the origin, since the depth of things. the path of their life is about to express themselves and to speak for others? The ones that couldn’t spoke? Bc all their life they have been listening to them, looking from a side the reality they’re scared of. -they’ve been psychologists if you want to call it that way-. They want to give love, they have so much love to give. During a period of their life -mostly childhood- they could have felt isolated from the world, these period of time could have been pretty sensible for them and helped them to “open their eyes”, how the world they thought worked was a lie.

Ascendant at Taurus degree (2°, 14° or 26°)

the difference of a person when the degree of the ascendant changes it’s incredible. There’s two people in my life that have aries rising but the one with taurus is completely different of the other. How a person with taurus degree on their ascendant live or the vibe of their life…they want comfort but at the same time have to have what they want, they’re persistent in to what they want and that’s attractive. I have seen people with this placement having a lot of romantic interactions or situationships, it’s easy for them to attract lovers👅 I’ve noticed they make good use of opportunities, they remind me of a bear bc I want to hug them no matter what. They’re realistic or practical. They indeed are critical with food, they need to take their nap to feel good. They’re like old people, how they point out manners and limits people have to have on their perspective and etc. I’ve seen a lot of people with these placement that had moved to their natal place to other bc of the opportunities. could mean also they are part of a family that can provide them economic support or/but with time they had struggle with it.

Ascendant at Aries degree (1°, 13° or 25°)

they’re pretty erratic, they look fucking mad all the time. They’re impulsive, their emotions, their decisions, they don’t know how they ended up the way they ended up. You can see from aside they’re natural liders. however, their whole life they’ve been fighting for being the liders of their life. there’s people around them that don’t understand limits, that think they have the right to control the aries degree life. these placement have to learn that they have the right to stand up for they want even if others don’t want to or don’t let them. they want to have something build by their own, THEIR thing, if not they’ll feel lost. they follow their heart and not doing it will cause problems in the future.

Ascendant at Capricorn degree (10° or 22°)

I have a friend that has Leo ascendant but she wasn’t giving me the stereotypical explosive energy someone expects from a leo. I did my research 😌 and of course she has a Capricorn degree. She is a very career focused person, grounded and driven by her goals. Also an introvert or priorities the company of the ones she likes the most or thinks is the best. She’s studying to be a doctor, her whole life will revolve around her work, she is devoted and has a BIG heart for her loved ones and the ones that would be part of her path. She looks serious. They’re seemed as reserved bc they’re 🤪 and when you get to know them they’re a beautiful soul. They won’t let anything get into their way when it comes to their career and goals, they’ll risk it all. Around their life they’ve had this introverted behavior or they’re Saturn ruled, which means they know bc they have to experience things, little by little but they have had and have to. In other words, they have seen and been in difficult situations that later -bc they have the power- analyzed the situation in 3er person to comprehend bc if not saturn will do what they do🤭

—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•

❀ Based on my personal experience and what I’ve analyzed in my surroundings.

❀ English is not my first language.

❀ I’m not a profesional astrologer, I just love astrology and I’m willing to learn.

Thank youu. baibaiii🫣🫶🏼💋

Do not copy. Please give me credits.

#astrology #astro observations #pinterest #astro posts #astro notes #astro placements #ascendant #rising #birth chart #Aries degree #Capricorn degree #pisces degree #taurus degree

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sataraxia · 11 months

Text

jerk.

earth42!miles x fem!reader

summary: you haven't heard about him for a whole week, what a 'jerk'. (wc: 3.9 k, kinda short and a dumb blurb)

warnings: cursing, a kind of suggestive? line at the end.

a/n: it's the first time i publish something so maybe it's kinda bad idk, and also this isn't angst miles is actually the best man ever pls i just wanna hug him. aand english isn't my first language so pls pls let me know if i spelled something wrong!

"I heard that kiki was invited to prom in the most romantic way possible, I'm so jealous."

"oh god, yeah, I wish I had a boyfriend like hers, or well, just a boyfriend".

You were biting your nails right now, looking everywhere but at your friends, what a topic, huh?

“hey, your boyfriend already invited you?”

And there was the question, you just looked lazily at them “uh, sure”

The truth was that you hadn't been talking to Miles for a week or so, and this was exactly why.

You always understood that maybe he didn't like a lot of things about high school, and you never complained about it, but this time, it was something important to you, and he didn't seem to care.

"baby, it's just a dance, I don't understand why you're acting like it's such a big deal." he said while not even looking at your direction.

"maybe it's a big deal that you're being a jerk about this."

Yeah, that conversation didn't end well, you haven't heard from him since.

The thing was, you don't do a lot of couple things publicly, and it's slowly starting to affect your mind, maybe he didn't want to be seen with you, or someone couldn't see him with you, the thought alone causing you to shiver.

You spent the rest of the day distracting yourself with your friends and your homework, secretly waiting for a message from him to appear on your phone.

It did, but definitely not what you expected.

miles <4: 'i’m back in town, wyd?'

Oh.

You didn't know whether to be happy that he wasn't ignoring you, or angry that he didn't give the last discussion more than a thought.

You decided not to let it go this time, and not even look at the text.

Of course, that was stupid, but so were you.

It wasn't more than two hours, he was already knocking on your window, and once you let him in, he just looked at you, deeply.

“wanna’ tell me what’s up with you, darling?”

That was not affectionate, he was annoyed, mocking, you realize.

“nothing.” you couldn’t look at him when you were lying, he knew that.

“i thought you were the one who opted for that communication bullshit, cmon.”

“where were you?”

“work” the tone was defensive, almost secretive, it was always like that when he mentioned something about the prowler, you never talked a lot about it.

“you could have told me”

“thought you didn't want a jerk talking to you?”

“yeah, but you’re still my boyfriend, Miles, we argued, and I didn't hear about you for a whole week.”

“sorry.”

That's what made your veins boil the most, he was never mean, disrespectful, or a jerk.

He always knew when to say sorry or when he had done the wrong thing, that meant he didn't really care about the problem that kept popping into your head, he didn't see it like a problem at all.

And that only made you feel dumber, maybe you were overreacting, again.

“it’s okay, i just missed you”

That's all you had to say for him to look at you with those eyes that made you feel like the most special woman on earth, that made any insecurity disappear just as the space between your bodies did.

“i missed you too.”

Of course, he stayed the whole night with you.

The next afternoon, when you entered your room, you saw a package on your bed, with a note on top of it

“I couldn't go to prom if my girl wasn't wearing my color, be at your door by eight o'clock.

luv ya, miles.”

Inside the package was a beautiful dress, vibrant purple, obviously.

This was definitely the man of your dreams.

+bonus:

Eight o'clock, and he was with his motorcycle at your door.

"you are breathtaking, love" he said and you approached him to give him just a little kiss, while smiling.

"thanks for all this, but I thought it wasn't a big deal?" a smirk adorned your face.

"it was a big deal if you were calling me a jerk about it" you grabbed his waist as you settled on the bike.

"sorry about that." a little peck on the cheek.

"you'll have time to apologize to me, don't worry:"

#writing #writers on tumblr #oneshots #across the spiderverse #miles g morales #miles morales #miles 42 #miles morales x reader #earth 42 miles morales #miles morales fluff #earth 42 miles morales x reader #the prowler #miles the prowler #miles morales x y/n #sataraxia

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e-hv · 3 months

Text

Why II

This is a repost cause i deleted all my fics

Major warning if you have mommy issues or daddy issues or parental neglect issues pls do not read this

and if you do read this pls don't blame me for anything, including but not limited to excessive crying/sobbing, a depression slump/ wanting to kill someone or anything else

Or if you're name Sarah

part 1

Alexia Putellas X Child!Reader

Tw: Negelct, Angst

Summary: Why did she not try

Why didn't I make the effort to acknowledge you, or even offer a simple greeting, when all you wanted was a moment of recognition?

Alexia was back from Elena’s high school graduation when she saw the Envelope on the dining table, mark with her name on it, she was going to open it when she realized it was your handwriting. She rolled her eyes thinking it was one of your notes, asking her to spend time with you or something similar. She threw the envelope into the bin and started looking through her email. The sky soon turned dark, she realized she hasn’t seen you since she came back which was unusual since you were always clinging to her like a lost puppy. She was going to order take out for both of you, when she recieved a text from Elena asking her if she wanted to celebrate her graduation with dinner, she texted her back saying yes, and called you to come down so she could give you money for your dinner. When you didn’t reply her or rush down she just left the money on the counter and went out for dinner. When she came back the lights were still on, she thought nothing of me until she saw that the money she left you was left untouched. She walked up stairs and open the door, noticing your barren room. She decided to call you, but all she heard was,

"Thank you for calling. The number you have reached has been disconnected or is no longer in service. We apologize for any inconvenience this may cause. Please check the number and try your call again. Thank you.”

Since when did your number change she thought, she wanted to ask your friends if they knew where you were but she realized she didn’t even know who they were. Then she remembered the letter that she envelope that she threw to the bin,

When she opened the envelope and read the letter, she felt empty she didn’t know why, she thought would be happy wouldn’t she after all she had been pushing you away all this time. So she set the letter down, change into her evening gown and went to sleep. But as the weeks past, she felt the empty feeling grow into a pit in her heart. She started missing the notes you left, the way you would smile when she talked to you, the warmth of your presence in the house. She missed the little moments that she had taken for granted.

As more a month flash by she started trying to look for you after all you couldn’t have gotten that for right. She decided to go to your room trying to find anything that could lead her to where youu went instead she found, a book, she then remebered that in your letter you wrote that you were excited that you made it into the school's football team. When she first read it she was confuse as she never remembered you even taking an intrest in football. But after she saw the book she realized you did indeed tell her you make it to the football team, it was also the day she was supposed to fetch you from school as you had been begging her to for a long time, so she just said yes. Hoping you would stop pestering her, she didn’t fetch you that day, and instead of giving you an explanation, she just ignored you when you told her your exciting news, and told you she would talk about it over dinner, which she also missed.

She then remembered all the other times you tried talking to her, yet she just regarded you as a pest, wanting you to just stop. How she regrets it now, as all she wanted was for you to come back through the front door and hug her telling her you change your mind. And she would make up for all the times she dismissed you. However it didn’t happen you didn’t walk in, the house was still missing your presence, and the emptiness lingered in every corner.

Alexia couldn't shake off the overwhelming guilt that consumed her. She realized how she had neglected you, how she had failed to offer even a simple acknowledgment of your existence, let alone celebrate your achievements and share in your excitement.

As she sat in your barren room, holding onto the book that held a piece of your excitement and dreams, she couldn't help but feel the weight of her own shortcomings as a mother. She wished she could turn back time, to undo the hurt she had caused you, to be the supportive and loving mother you deserved.

But no amount of regret could change the fact that you were gone, that she had lost the chance to make things right. The realization hit her like a wave, crashing down on her with a force she couldn't bear.

Tears streamed down Alexia's face as she clutched onto the book, her heart aching with the longing for your presence, for another chance to show you that she cared.

Why did I neglect the most fundamental tasks you asked of me, yet expect you to readily assist me in my every request?

She was still trying to look for you when she, reread your letter for the hundred time, she read the part where you said that you asked if you could go to the arcade with your friends and that you’ve always bent over backwards to fulfill her every request. She recalled the times, she would asked you to help her buy things before and during team building and didn’t even ask you if you wanted to join, instead reminding you that you had to help her clean up after it ended. She then remembered all the times you ask her if she could go to the beach with you, or attend your concert or events and she said she was busy.

She remembered how she always seemed to prioritize her own needs and desires over yours, expecting you to readily assist her in every request without considering your own wishes and feelings.

The weight of her negligence and selfishness hit her like a ton of bricks. She realized how she had taken you for granted, how she had failed to see the love and effort you were pouring into your relationship with her, only to be met with indifference and neglect in return.

Alexia's heart ached with the realization of her own hypocrisy. How could she have expected you to be there for her when she couldn't even spare a moment to acknowledge your needs and desires?

Why couldn’t she had just try to make time for you maybe then you would still be here with her, she thought as she was holding back tears telling herself she didn’t deserved to feel sad as it was all her fault.

Why was I consistently absent from your most significant moments, offering nothing but hollow excuses in return?

Alexia now had a routine go to training or a match and comeback home to try to look for you. The only times it ever change was when she had an away game even then, she checked the camera that she installed in the front door ( incase you came back and she wasn’t there) religiously. When she checked her phone she saw a message from Elena, she ignored it as now every time she saw it she saw a message from her she only remembers the fact that she missed your primary school graduation even though she promised you. Or the fact she always said that she had to help Elena with something and missed your milestones and important moments. She remembered all the reasons she thought was good reasons that now she realized was pitiful excuses.

All the times she said she was busy, and the way your eyes dimmed but you still hugged her and said it was okay. She wondered how much she hurt you but didn’t realized or more accurately was to busy to care.

And you... why didn't you question me when I stopped paying attention to you?

She found a photo album titled 2019 summer road trip, she didn’t remember going on any road trip before, when she opened the album she saw a photo of you in a car, she then remembered of the week she didn’t see you at all. And when she did you asked her if she wanted to ask you anything and she just ignored you thinking it was one of your antics. Turned out you had gone on a road trip for a week, and she didn’t even realized. She wondered why you didn’t ask her if she notice but you did in fact try to, as she vividly remembers you trying to tell her something but she just tuned it out and focused on her phone.

The weight of her neglect weighed heavily on Alexia as she flipped through the album, each photo a painful reminder of the moments she had missed, the moments she had failed to share with you.

She recalled the times you had tried to reach out to her, to question her absence, but she had brushed you off, too preoccupied with her own affairs to spare a moment for you. The guilt gnawed at her insides as she realized how much she had hurt you, how much pain she had caused with her indifference and neglect.

Alexia couldn't understand why you didn't push her more, why you didn't demand her attention and question her absence. She knew deep down that you deserved so much more, that you deserved a mother who would be there for you, who would prioritize your needs and desires above all else.

But instead, she had failed you time and time again, offering nothing but hollow excuses in return for your longing for recognition and acknowledgment.

As she sat there, surrounded by memories of the moments she had missed, Alexia couldn't help but feel a profound sense of regret. Regret for the time lost, for the moments she could never get back, for the love and attention she had failed to give you.

What actions of mine led you to accept the disdain from me , your own flesh and blood, to endure such neglect?

What exactly crossed my mind when I opted to engage with her instead of you, my own daughter?

Alexia couldn’t help but ask herself what exactly did she do to make you accept her negelct like it was normalcy, and maybe it was to you. Her mind settled on to the memory where she believed Elena over you, and scolded you for something you probably didn’t do. She then recalled the fact she had took the necklace back from Elena planning to give it back to you when you apologized. You never did, and that was a blessing in disguised. She rummaged around her drawer for the necklace and when she found it, she knew she didn’t give it to you that’s when she remembered in your letter it stated that you found someone that treated you like her own daughter, who was there for you when she wasn’t. She shouldn’t feel sad, angry or jealous that you relied on that women instead of her but as she held the necklace in her hands, engraved with the word "Princesa" and signed by someone named L.W., Alexia couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy towards this mysterious figure who had seemingly filled the void in your life that she had left gaping open.

She realized that she had pushed you away, prioritizing her own desires and relationships over nurturing the bond she had with you. The memory of scolding you based on Elena's words instead of listening to your side of the story haunted her, knowing now that it was a pivotal moment where she had failed you.

And as she sat there, clutching the necklace that symbolized the connection she had failed to maintain with you, Alexia couldn't help but wonder why she had chosen to engage with others instead of prioritizing you, her own flesh and blood.

She knew that her actions had led you to seek comfort and acceptance elsewhere, to find comfort in someone who treated you like their own daughter when she had failed to do so.

But even amidst the guilt and regret, Alexia realized that she couldn't change the past. All she could do now was acknowledge her mistakes, learn from them, and strive to be a better mother to you, even if it meant starting from scratch and earning back your trust and love.

And as tears welled up in her eyes, Alexia made a silent vow to herself – to never again neglect the most fundamental task of being a mother, to always prioritize you above all else, and to make up for the lost time and opportunities she had squandered in the past.

And despite the pain and letdowns I've inflicted, why did you persist in holding onto hope that I would come through for you

Despite the pain and letdowns she had inflicted, Alexia couldn't help but wonder why you persisted in holding onto hope that she would come through for you. It was a question that haunted her as she grappled with the realization of how much she had failed you, how much she had neglected to be the mother you needed and deserved.

When a parcel labeled for you arrived, Alexia couldn’t resist the urge to open it. Inside, she found a medal inscribed with the words "Copa Juvenil Estrella" – "Star Youth Cup." Confusion washed over her as she struggled to understand why you would receive a medal from one of the most competitive under-21 tournaments in Spain. It was then that the pieces of the puzzle began to fall into place.

She remembered the day of the tournament finals, the same day you had asked her to attend your football match. She recalled how she had brushed you off, claiming to be busy with her and Elena's training. It was a moment of realization that hit her like a bolt of lightning – she had prioritized her own interests over yours once again, and it may have been the final straw for you.

As Alexia connected the dots, she felt like burying herself six feet under. She couldn’t believe she didn’t know you were playing football much less knew you were playing it at such a high standard.

She wondered just what else she didn’t know about you. But she knew she could only hope that she’ll find you and that you’ll be able to forgive her so that you could build up your relationship again.

I just wish that one day I'll gather enough courage to ask for your forgiveness, and to find the strength to accept that you may never be there for me, regardless of how much I now yearn for your presence in my life

As Alexia was sitting down looking at her computer, a picture came up with you in her arms the day she adopted you and promised you she would love and take care of you forever. However all she did was the opposite, she remembered all the conversation’s or missed opportunities you had hinted at in your letter and, memories came rushing back to her,

“Mami, I made it into the school’s football team.”

The words barely registered as she mumbled a distracted response.

“But you promised you'd pick me up today.”

Your disappointment was palpable, "I know, sweetie, but something came up. The helper will take care of you," she said, barely sparing you a glance as I tried to focus on my task at hand.

As she watched you retreat to your room, she couldn't help but wonder why you seemed so upset. Didn't you understand that she had important things to attend to? Why couldn't you just be patient and wait for her to finish?

“Mami, can I go to the arcade with my friends? It’s the last day of school.”

She thought that you should help her with her teambuilding since you were her daughter after all.

"But I finished all my work."

Your insistence only added to her frustration. "I said no. End of discussion," I declared, my tone final as I brushed off your request. Didn't you understand that she had more important things to worry about than your petty desires?

"Why does she always choose someone else over me?"

As she watched you resign yourself to another night at home, she couldn't help but feel a twinge of annoyance. Why couldn't you just accept that she had my own life to live, her own priorities to attend to?

"Mom, why can't you come to my graduation?"

Your hurt was evident in your voice, but she couldn't afford to dwell on it. "I have a work commitment, sweetie," she replied, her words hollow .

"I didn’t do anything wrong, Mom."

Your protests fell on deaf ears as she refused to listen. "I don't want to hear it," she cut you off, her disappointment palpable as she struggled to come to terms with your perceived shortcomings.

All the things she thought about you and everything she said was what pushed you away. Each dismissive remark, each broken promise, each moment of neglect drove a wedge between you, widening the gap in your relationship until it became insurmountable.

As Alexia sat there, reflecting on her past actions and the impact they had on you, she couldn't help but feel a deep sense of regret and remorse. She wished she could turn back time, to undo the hurt she had caused, to be the mother you needed and deserved.

But she knew that she couldn't change the past. All she could do now was acknowledge her mistakes and strive to do better in the future. She realized that she needed to confront her own shortcomings, to learn from her mistakes, and to prioritize you above all else.

With tears streaming down her face, Alexia made a silent vow to herself – to gather enough courage to ask for your forgiveness, and to find the strength to accept that you may never forgive her, regardless of how much she now yearned for your presence in her life.

As she sat there, clutching onto the memories of the moments she had missed, a notification from Instagram interrupted her thoughts. The post was from Arsenal, and the caption read:

"Welcome to Arsenal, our new signing Y/N Williamson”

#angst #liquidation writes #woso soccer #woso fanfics #woso #woso community #fc barca femeni #womens football #woso imagine #alexia putellas angst #alexia putellas imagine #alexia putellas x reader #alexia x reader #alexia putellas

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ambcass · 4 months

Note

Can I request Bruce Wayne x kid reader, where the reader is really shy and hardly talks to anyone, and when they meet someone new, the reader hides behind Bruce's leg. The reader is clinging to Bruce, like a lost puppy, but at some point Bruce has to leave and the reader has a full on melt down, crying and screaming. Trying to find Bruce, the reader somehow escapes the manor and tries to look for Bruce, but they get overwhelmed with the people and the cars. Luckily Gordon finds the reader and recognizes, so he calls Bruce. Later Bruce and the whole Family arrive, and Bruce never leaves the reader ever again.

OMG I ACIDENTALLY DELETED AN INBOX!! IF U MADE THE PERCY JACKSON ONE IM SORRYYY :(((

anyways request pls :)

"And who is this cutie?" a woman wearing a red dress points to you. You were on Bruce's side, lost in a trance before you heard that woman address you. You quickly hid behind Bruce and peeked your head out. Bruce looked behind him and smiled.

"This is ___. They're a bit shy but once you get to know them, they are a bundle of joy." The woman stepped closer and extended her arms.

"Awe, come give me a hug," she said in a warm tone. You backed up, furrowing your eyebrows. Bruce stopped her and started explaining how you didn't come from a great environment before meeting him. The woman pouted but respected your past.

"Poor baby...I'm so sorry," She placed her hands on her chest. "I'll leave you two alone now. I'll see you later Mr. Wayne" She winked at Bruce and then left. You came out of hiding, you held on to his hand. Bruce gave you the "okay" signal, meaning that he was done with this gala, and it was finally time to go home. The two of you walked out of the "palace" and headed to the limo. The windows rolled down, and Alfred was there to greet the two of you. Bruce opened the door and you leaped into the car.

"Alfred, Alfred! Can we please, please, please go home" you whined and shook your legs. Bruce got in the car and closed the door. Alfred giggled and started driving away.

"I take it that your trip was fun?"

"Not even. We have so much in common, the two of us hate galas," Bruce answered and turned towards you. "Isn't that right,___?" You nodded. For you, the ride took so long that you started falling asleep. Your eyes couldn't keep open and eventually, you closed your eyes and fell asleep.

Once you arrived back to the manner, Bruce carried you back. Placing you on your bed until you wake up. Waking up, your vision slowly started to clear up as you walked out of your room.

"B-bruce...," you called out. "Bruce! Where are you?" your heart started to beat faster and faster. You ran down the stairs calling for Bruce and Alfred but no response. Walking back and forth, running in circles through the manner.

You knew it was a bad idea, but you did it anyway. You left the manner to search for him, the both of them. Ran down the hill, heading for the streets, cars were running at 50 mph but you didn't care that you were going to get hurt. You just wanted your dad.

At this point, you're out of breath. You sat down on the side of the crosswalk. Tears flood your eyes. You start hyperventilating. Breathe. You told yourself. Breathe. That's what Dad would want. You felt a tap and jolted up.

"___? What are you doing here? Where's your dad?" A guy in his mid-40s looked down at you. It was Commissioner Gordan. You went to give Gordan a big hug as you sobbed in his arms.

"W-where's Bruce. I can't find him!" you cried out. Gordan stroked your hair, trying to calm you down.

"It's going to be okay, we'll find him...I'll give him a call, alright?" His soft expression made you realize that you were safe. Safe from everything from the outside world. Godan gave Bruce a call and minutes later he arrived. The moment you saw him, you ran towards him and wrapped your arms around his waist.

"What are you doing out of the house?" Bruce asked. You did nothing but ramble countlessly about how much you missed him and Alfred. A person emerges out of the car and speaks,

"Hey sweetie, what can your big brother do to help you feel better?" Your oldest brother, Dick Grayson came out from the car. You took a look in the car and saw the other three. Jason, Tim, and Damian.

"The others are gonna arrive at the manner later. Meanwhile how about us four spend time with our little sister. How does that sound?" Dick asked and you nodded. You entered the car and Bruce followed.

"After today, I won't ever leave my little girl at home alone ever again."

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kanekisfavoritegf · 2 months

Text

BET U WANNA

ft. Kento Nanami as T.A. for Professor Geto

minors & blank blogs DNI pls🩷

warnings: smut, slight power imbalance, biting, licking, and a whole bunch of other stuff :))

So, how the hell did you end up here? In an empty lecture hall with cum seeping out of your cunt?

Professor Geto was a known stickler for the rules, and no matter how cute he was or how many girls winked and flirted his way, he never paid attention to them. And you never paid attention to him. Your eyes constantly stayed on one of your ex-classmates and now T.A., Kento Nanami. He was smart and handsome, and he never even paid you a glance, not even after sharing a short business course last year.

You were invited to this University Gala for the top students of the year. You came as Professor Geto’s student, and Nanami was there out of responsibility. His job was to chaperone and introduce you to other professors, T.A.s, and future employers who wanted the best pick of the litter.

You wore a deep Navy black gown; it hugged your every curve perfectly, there was a slit at the front that only reached a little above the knee, yet it had still managed to catch the attention of Kento.

And now that you had it, you refused to lose it.

“Oh, look.” Nanami gestured across the room. A man who looked like he should be anyway, but here, and at a university gala for business majors, with a scar on his lip, stood in the corner. “That’s Mr. Toji; he is looking for someone smart like you to help him with his next project.” Before you could even protest the idea, his arm had latched onto yours and dragged you to what felt like the 60th CEO, Professor, or someone important of the night.

“Kento, wait!”

“Nanami.” He corrected curtly before practically throwing you at the CEO.

“Toji, Y/N, Y/n, Toji. She is head of her class and shows great promise, especially if you are looking for fresh ideas on marketing!” The words rushed out of his mouth right before he rushed away, leaving you standing there awkwardly alone with Toji. You gave him a curt smile and handed him your business card. Giving him no time to ask any more icebreaker questions, you turned on your heel and went back to your higher-up.

“What is your deal?” You whisper yelled at him.

“I don’t know what you mean.” You could only roll your eyes at him.

“Nanami, you have avoided eye contact from the moment I arrived. Did I do something wrong?” You spoke with a hint of sadness, trying to play this as well as possible.

“Of course—” he huffed. Of course not, Y/N, it’s just…” His eyes drifted to your legs and then back up to your face.

“Oh.” You smirked up at him, “You wanna fuck me, don’t you?”

“Wha- No!” He said firmly.

“Oh, Kento.”

“Nanami.” He cut in again, but you only raised yourself so your mouth would be level with his ear

“You wanna fuck me so bad, don’t you.” You whispered. You were giggling as you pulled away and walked out of the gala hall and down the halls of your university.

You didn’t need to turn around to know that the quick steps that followed were behind you were his. You smiled as you led him further and further into your pull.

You turned so abruptly when you reached Geto’s classroom door. So fast that Nanami had no time to react to your stop, he crashed into you, pressing you against the door.

“You are going to fuck me here? Right where anyone can walk and see us?” You smiled, “Didn’t take you for the Voyeur, Kento.”

“Shut up.” He rubbed with the keys to the classroom door, pushing you inside before locking it again.

“What is the big deal anyways, Kento?”

“You need to stop.”

“Why?”

“Just stop, please. I can’t–”

“You can’t what, Kento?”

“It would be improper. Wrong.” His eyes met the ground in shame; it would have been cute if you hadn’t already been so desperate for him to give in.

“It’s not like there is some sort of power imbalance between us.”

“Of course, there is-”

“You aren’t my professor; you are a T.A.” You scoffed, slowly taking a step towards him and another one, another one. Until you were so close, you could feel his shallow breaths fanning your face. “You are what? Two years older than me.” You brought your finger to his chest, slowly pushing him into your professor’s desk as you continued.

“Hell, Kento-”

“Nanami”, He tries to correct you, to take control of the situation. Unfortunately, he lost this silent battle with you the moment he stayed behind to help you.

“Kento,” you whisper in his ear. “We used to be students together before you graduated, and you even took a class with me.”

His hand reached to grab yours, holding you firmly in place before you could do anything more. His voice was firmer now as he spoke. “Y/N.” He spoke a little firmer now, “Stop.”

“Why? You want me, so take me.” And for a moment, something flicked in his eyes, as if you had pushed almost all his buttons as if he was almost about to give in. Almost.

His hand still grasped yours, holding it far enough away from his abdomen that he wouldn’t feel your eclectic touch. But you didn’t need to touch him to make him give in.

Looking up at him, you held his gaze, and for ten tortuous seconds, you stared at each other, no words spoken, and his expression still frustrated and guarded.

“Kiss me.” And he did. He kissed you like drowning, and you were the air he needed. He kissed you and kissed you and kissed you even more. Turning you both around, you were now pressed against your professor’s desk and leaning back as Kento pushed you into the wood even more. You couldn’t even complain about the straining angle he had you stuck in because you were so distracted by his dick rubbing into you. Swiftly, he picked you up and set you down atop the desk; as the kiss got more wet and more primal, Kento’s moans became clearer and more transparent. His strong arms held your legs around his waist as he continued to hump into you like a man-crazed. You moaned at the neverending friction Kento was giving you, humping back into his clothed thrusts over and over and over again. The feel of his dress pants rubbing into you. It was addictive.

So lost in it; you hadn’t noticed the mess you were making on his pants or the table. You were dripping all over the wood.

Suddenly, he pulled away from you; a pencil, or book or whatever the fuck it was that had pulled Kento’s lips from yours fell onto the floor and made a dramatically loud noise. His lips were pink and puffy from your bite-filled kisses. You went to pull him back from more, to grab onto his wrinkled beyond-belief shirt and make him fuck you. But he stepped away further. He stood a few feet from you and stared at the mess he had created on your professor’s desk.

“Lick it.”

“What?”

“You will lick up your mess and not miss a single drop.” Kento’s eyebrows raised at your hesitation, “What, I thought you wanted to be a good slut? What’s with the change of heart?”

You felt a heat rush to your cheeks as you turned to lick it up. Your pussy throbbed as you to a stripe at the wooden desk. Kento’s eyes burned into your back; you could feel the heat of his gaze coming off of you in waves. You were bent over at a 90-degree angle as you licked and licked and licked some more.

You had gotten lost trying to clean up your mess perfectly, and you had taken no notice of the looming figure, Nanami Kento, right behind you. His dick in hand. You were practically jumping for the opportunity to meet with your entrance.

He stroked it lazily, paying more attention to you and your licks, keeping in time with your every movement. You moaned at the sound of his rubbing getting wetter and wetter, probably from precum. You heard a chuckle leave his lips before he raised your gown over your hips and slotted his dick in between your thighs, You let out a moan at the feeling of his cock rubbing against you, but you were not alone with this; long and deep moan came out of him too, almost louder than yours. Yet he still dared to shush you.

Kento bit into your shoulder lightly before reading himself from you and begging to thrust.

“Keep licking; I still see your mess on the table, Y/N.”

His voice sent a small shiver up your spine and only made you seem to rub your thighs.

“Fuck! Don’t do that.” He warned roughly, more moaning and gasping than firm and authoritative. You only giggle, squeezing them tighter, opening them a little and then squeezing more. And that’s when he took his hand from your waist and wrapped his arm around your body, and reached out of your neck, pressing in the same way you were around his cock.

“Fuck, baby, you are gonna make me cum.”

“Then cum, Keno.” wiggling your hips at him.

And that’s all it took for him to explode over your thighs and now clenching pussy. Nanami pulled away so he could watch as it closed around nothing.

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.” Nanami groaned over and over. It was at that moment, as he made eye contact with your clenching hole, that he decided to flip you over and sit you on his boss's desk and fuck you.

His dick was already softening, but he didn’t care. Moaning loudly at how good he felt in you as you throbbed around him, you could have sworn you heard Kento whisper out a small,

“Thank you, god.” Before pulling out of you, to push back in.

He took it slow with you; each thrust had you whimpering for more. You felt like you could cry.

“More Kento.”

“I’m sensitive, love.”

“I don’t care,” you dug your heel into him. “Please,” you purred in his ear.

And like the gentlemen he was, he obliged you. Giving in and plunging into you. Hard. Each time he reentered you, a gasp, or moan, or groan, or some heavenly mix of all three left him, And all you good do was pant into his neck. Sinking your teeth into him, occasionally when you felt like you were going to scream.

The drag of his hips filled you with electricity. It was perfect; it was everything and more, and you hoped to god that your voices and the depraved sounds you were making didn’t carry down the hall and were loud enough for the party to hear.

“Nanami.”

“So now it’s Nanami?” Despite your tearful face still latched into his neck, you could feel his smirk and condescending tone dripping off his tongue. So you squeezed down on him, biting simultaneously, too.

“Fuck me, God.” He whimpered into your skin.

“God? Am I your God, Kento?”

“Shut up.”

At some point, your fucking turned into some weird way to torture each other, revelling in the pain and pleasure you both received from it. You clamped down on him, and he stroked your clit in circles. You bit into his neck, and he whispered the most nasty shit into you.

At some point, this became a battle of ego, an unspoken game for who would make the other cum first. Position after position, against the table, over the table, riding him on the desk, him holding against the blackboard as he fucked deeper into you.

None of you would let go. Not until the overstimulation plus the edging started to catch up with Kento did he let go, but his pride was in the way. But it wasn’t as if you were doing any better; you looked like an absolute wreck, mumbling incoherent words as he had you in a matting press on the floor.

Everything about this was depraved from both ends. And you didn’t even realise you were cumming until you felt Kento shoot his thick warm cum deep into you.

Even after he was finished and you were both slowly coming down from your highs, he slowly rocked into you, and you only continued moaning like a mindless slut.

“Look at the absolute mess I have made now, Y/N. You are just going to have to clean it up,” he said, shaking his head. He stroked the top of yours softly, still inside you, of course.

“I’ll let you leave without licking it up if you manage to keep all of my cum inside as you suck me off.” But you couldn’t even keep your eyes open. He lay atop you now. Your legs shook even after he pulled out of you, a deep blush kissing his face.

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