#Apartments for Rent london | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

silencesscreams · 11 months ago

Text

i can see you

james potter x best friends sister!reader (smut)

summary: james develops a strange feeling for sirius’ sister (reader) when she comes to london once her job required her to move. he first off thought she was a shitty person, an awful one with an awfully pretty face. so when sirius offers for her to stay in their loft until she finds an apartment, he decides he’s going to make her want to get out of there as fast as possible, until he wants her to stay more than anything in this whole world.

a/n: omg im so sorry this took so long, i tried my best w this one. also, english isn’t my first language so sorry for any mistakes. inspired by i can see you - taylor swift

warnings: mdni. smut with plot, afab!reader, use of she/her pronouns in reference to reader, use of y/n (I AM SORRY), afab!reader, being shorter than james, muggle & modern day!au, chef!peter, ships included (dorlene, marylily, wolfstar), swearing, cuddling, mentions of alcohol and drinking, a lot of physical touch, kind of public??, kissing, praise, v soft dom!james, fingering, oral (m receiving), light choking, size kink??, penetration, unprotected (don’t do this please), overstimulation

for the past two years, you started to have weekly calls with your brother, to update him on your life and know what’s happening on his.

you got transferred to london because of your job, you couldn’t find any apartments online and you were supposed to move the other week, being really desperate you told him about it, hoping he knew a real estate agent or something like that, but you were incredibly caught by surprise with his answer.

“thats such nonsense, you should just stay in my empty room until you find another place.” sirius said, his phone on speaker as he made a sandwich in the kitchen. james eyed him with a confused look on his face, but sirius decided to ignore it.

“really?” you ask, hopeful, you really could take a break from looking for apartments.

“of course. i mean, remus has practically moved into my room, so we just need to take some stuff of his out, but yeah, its no big deal.” james couldn’t help but look at him like he was crazy, remus’ room was right next to his, hell, remus’ room had a bathroom adjoined to his. james was starting to feel faint.

as soon as sirius got off the phone with you, he started blabbing.

“what the fuck, sirius?!” james said loudly, sirius sighed, putting his sandwich harshly on the plate.

“what now? i’m really just trying to eat here”

“your sister? really?” he looked like he was about to faint.

“she’ll pitch in on the rent, don’t worry about that” your brother tried to get him calm.

“oh please, i dont care about that! you know how i feel about sharing spaces” he was getting stressed, he couldn’t help it. “and you know how i feel about your family, i have been telling you to be more careful these past years but you don’t listen at all!”

it really had to be remus’s room? couldn’t peter just switch rooms and lend her his instead?

“she’s not like my parents, and neither is regulus, they didn’t do anything” sirius paused, “do your best friend a favor, will you?” and he knew he was going to.

“she’s not messy or nosy or anything like that, right?” james asked, giving into it fully.

“please, shes a cleaning freak, she’s worse than my mother” he paused. “that’s an exaggeration but she’s not messy at all, i swear. you wont even notice she’s around.” james doubted that, but he knew how much sirius missed his siblings, and he knew how fond sirius was of you.

james swore to himself he was going to get you to leave either way, he didn’t want you there and he didn’t care if he had to pay more rent because of it. he didn’t like you, he never did. even in school, before the whole sirius moving out thing, he felt weird around you. and he remembered that feeling very well, even if it was many years before, he didn’t feel like he could forget.

your moving truck arrived at the building a few hours before you, but when you got there, sirius had already arranged your furniture, which did make you a bit emotional. he had even bought a toothbrush, carefully arranging it in the right side of the cabinet, the side that pointed towards the door of the bathroom that led to your room.

the boys came to pick you up at the train station, you recognized them from sirius’ social media. they were everywhere.

you were extremely confused on why all of them had come and pick you up, you were hoping to see your brother standing awkwardly, instead he was there with all of his roommates. you felt like you were a teenage girl again, trying to talk to your brother during lunch, but his friends were always around.

you recognized remus from the photos he sent you, and peter was always on the background of your calls with him baking something.

and then there was james.

james potter. you didn’t know how to feel about him anymore. when your brother first introduced you, you found him attractive, but then you hated him.

when your brother ran away to his home you couldn’t help but hate him.

sure, your house wasn’t the best place in the world, but he took away your older brother, how were you supposed to feel?

as time passed you started to tolerate his presence. now you really don’t care about him, but he sure looked better than he usually did many years before.

you felt like you could kill him.

after living with james for a month you found him obnoxious, rude, annoying and a few other things you were too lazy to mention.

but the thing you hated the most was how invasive he could be.

you barged into his room, he was laying there, crumbs all over his red shirt.

"you should learn how to knock" he rolled his eyes when he said it, your brows furrowed.

"you ate my brownies." you had baked a few because it was bring your kid to work day and you were in charge of the snacks.

“they were really good, i thought peter made them” james paused. “he runs a restaurant downtown, you know, he’s always baking and-“

“i’m gonna have to make a whole new batch. you ate like ten of them.” you were about to get a really bad headache depending on his answer.

“i told you, they were really good.”

if you were in a cartoon you would’ve turned red and there would be smoke coming out of your nostrils and your ears. you had no comment.

you hated when he did that, just compliment you so you couldn’t really hate him that much anymore.

he used your shampoo, but it smelled really nice.

he ate your leftovers, but you really know how to order chinese food.

he even wore one of your biggest shirts you bought when you were in college because you were too lazy to buy pajamas and suddenly that shirt was really nice, because, sure, james potter actually listened to avril lavigne.

he shrunk one of your favorite sundresses, you almost cried that day and he never even apologized.

the list went on and on, and somehow, every compliment of his sounded like he was taunting you, making fun of you right in front of your face and all you could ever do was thank him.

maybe that’s just how you were, polite no matter what. but you sure didn’t want to be polite to james that day.

“no, you don’t get to do that” you felt like you were being crazy.

“what do you mean?” he chuckled. he so did not chuckle.

“you don’t get to compliment me! that doesn’t bring my brownies back!” the word brownie sure sounded stupid in that moment.

“i’ll bake more for you, but they’ll suck, you know that” he actually sat on the bed to argue, how kind of him.

“the kids will probably die if they eat your brownies.”

“you’re feeding children? where do you even work?” he looked so confused and you kept getting angrier.

“do i really look like the kind of person who would eat a hundred billion thousand brownies? god, james, why can’t you just not touch my shit?”

“that’s not even a real number and there were a lot of them! i thought it wouldn’t make a difference!”

“it wouldn’t, if you had eaten one or two, but you ate half of them!”

“oh please, lets put it to a maximum of 25%, alright?” you felt like you were going absolutely insane. he was probably going to get you in a mental hospital and you’d be walking around, looking half dead, murmuring ‘brownies brownies brownies, i want my brownies back’.

you decided to just give up, slamming the door the hardest you could while heading out.

as halloween came around, the bickering with james stopped, you didn’t quite know if it was because of the season or you just got used to each other, but you didn’t mind it much. he could be very exhausting when upset, and you were sure you could too.

you loved fall, maybe it was that you were in a great mood. pumpkin flavored stuff, candles and everything else included.

on the day before halloween, you woke up early, you had to go apartment hunting and once you got back you would try and help peter make deserts. even though your ghost shaped cookies look like very sick jellyfish, you wanted to help. it was the most you could do, you weren’t paying rent, sirius wouldn’t let you. and they were going to throw a party on the next day so you wanted to help them get everything settled.

when you got home you were so incredibly tired, you had spent all day out and it was already 9pm. you had to walk so much you felt like you were your feet would fall off because they were used more on that day than they were your entire life. you were more upset you didn’t get to help with the food though, the pain didn’t really matter that much compared to that.

you just wanted to lay on your bed, put your feet up and-

giggles.

there were giggles coming from your room.

and then you remembered it, the neighbors, a few girls that went to the same school as you and were very good friends with your brother were staying over. a big slumber party of some sort, you and james were sleeping in the living room, because, of course, the four girls formed two couples and they would sleep together separately. no actual bed for you tonight! you really liked them though, so you couldn’t complain.

you knocked on the door to your own room and marlene opened it, cheeks flushed, and you could see dorcas on your bed, doing something on her phone.

“hi, lene” you decided to call her that because sirius called her that, it was cute. “sorry for bothering you both, i just wanted to get my pillow, my blanket and change real quick”

“oh sure, come in” she opened the door and you went straight for the drawer under the bed, grabbing a light green heavy one, you usually used that on winter but it was a cold night and you didn’t really want to bother them by taking your usual one from off the bed.

you never changed clothes so fast, tossing them in the laundry bin along with a shit ton of james’ shirts that were on his side of the sink.

“thank you, have a nice night”

you sighed while going to the living room, to find james sitting on the armchair, shirtless and wearing sweatpants, drinking a beer and watching that 70s show (again). you decided to ignore how good he looked and just get some rest because you really didn’t want go think about james in that moment, or ever as a matter of fact.

you lay down on the couch and throw the blanket over your head.

“you know what bums me out about this show?” james says abruptly, like you would really like to know. you grunt, waiting for his answer. “they really didn’t know when to stop it, its only good until what? season-“

“james, im really tired, i just wanna get some rest, please” you get out from under the covers to say that, so he ignores it fully.

“how did apartment hunting go?” he asks, pausing the episode and asking alexa to turn on some playlist with songs a sad dad would listen to.

“shitty, theres not one good place up for rent in this city, its actually sick”

“yeah, thats tough” he pauses for a brief moment “come here” he said, patting his knee. was he asking you to sit on his lap? was he going fucking crazy?

“i’m sorry, what?” you were so confused, since when was he like that to you?

“get up, sit here with me a little.” were you dreaming? was this one of those weird wet dreams you had in high school?

“james, i’m really tired, my back hurts and i really want to lay-“

“i’ll give you a massage, it’s whatever” he answered, a sad puppy look on his face.

you gave in. you walked over to him and sat on the arm of the chair, but he pulled you onto his lap.

“i need to be close to you, if i’m not it’s really awkward and uncomfortable.” some song you didn’t know was playing.

it was slow and sounded old, you didn’t recognize it.

“james come on, im really tired.” you say, smiling though, you didn’t know why he was doing this. he must’ve had an awfully good day.

“just for a bit.” why were his hands on your waist? why were you nervous. you nodded, you felt that if you opened your mouth to speak, nothing would come out.

you could feel his breathing on your neck, his hands roaming your waist as he lead them up to your shoulders.

his hands were on the low of your back, under your shirt. that was certainly new, and that was really not a massage, but you weren’t complaining.

you looked back at him, wide eyed, what was he doing?

once you turned your face to look at him, you couldn’t look away anymore.

maybe it was how nice he looked in the paused lighting of the tv, maybe it was how warm he felt, when the weather was so chilly recently, whatever it was, it hooked you.

he was looking straight into your eyes and you felt so open to him, it was weird to see him like this.

you felt like you were back in school being head over heels for your brother's best friend.

you heard keys jingling outside, so you stepped away, leaving him sat by himself wondering what he did wrong. sirius opened the door abruptly, scaring james, who looked at him confused.

“sorry, mate, the door was … hey! is that my instrumental playlist?” james turned a bit pink.

“yeah, I was just...” he looked at you. “forget it.” he turned it off. you were pretending to be unbothered, looking at something on your phone.

you couldn’t quite wrap your mind around what had just happened.

you unfolded the sofa into a bed, getting comfortable on the right side, but then you felt his eyes back on you as sirius went into his own room.

“oh, sorry. do you want the couch? i can sleep on the chair, i don’t really-“

“we can share. don’t worry about it.” you nod at his comment. what had gotten into him? he turned off the lights, leaving the tv on. you were trying to calm down, sleeping in the same place as him, being nervous about it was so silly, but, still, you could feel your heartbeat.

“you wanna pick something?” he interrupted your thoughts, you didn’t want to watch anything. you wanted it to be over as soon as possible.

“no, you can just go back to your thing, i don’t mind it.” you answered. he laid down by your side.

fuck.

you were going to share the damn blanket.

he unpaused the tv, putting the remote on the right arm of the couch, that was your side. his arm went over you, he wrapped his arm around your waist once he went back to his side, though half of it was empty.

was he trying to spoon you? you could feel yourself getting nervous, your body starting to feel hot.

you (stupidly) decided to test his actual intentions with that, turning to your side to see if he’d pull you in, he quickly did.

you could have died right there.

he had never even hugged you before, was he really horny or something? and so you felt it.

‘oh my god.’ you thought to yourself repeatedly.

you felt his hand on your waist, pulling you closer to him, which was basically impossible with your ass already glued to his crotch.

you ended up sleeping like that, waking up in the morning to the ‘are you still watching?’ screen.

the day was fine, and you found out you and James had a lot in common, you ended up talking the entire evening, he spent the whole party next to you.

you slept in separate rooms at night, but you still spent a while with him in his room talking about all sorts of things. you never imagined how you and james could be alike. you never imagined how he could be so sweet, funny and nice.

after the fall holidays you and james became closer and closer, when labor day came up you realized how much you liked him and when thanksgiving came around, you realized how you might actually be falling for him.

he didn’t help with that at all. he was always touching you, you even ended up cuddling when you would watch some awful movie in his room.

you never really got if he liked you as a friend or he wanted something more, until christmas.

you carefully placed your gifts under the tree on christmas eve, so in the morning when you saw a little box with your name on it, you were incredibly excited.

everyone was sat on the living room floor, opening gifts. in the little box was an envelope and it was from all of the guys. there was something written in the paper inside but you didn’t want to read it at the moment.

“thanks” you smiled, but you didn’t quite know what it meant.

“we all talked and we want you to put your name on the lease.” sirius said quickly, looking at you anxiously.

“like, actually?” you ask, starting to feel extremely happy because you loved living with them.

“yeah” remus answered, smiling.

“thanks, i really appreciate it.” you couldn’t stop smiling, it felt great to know they wanted you there. james, who was sitting next to you, gave you a one arm hug and a kiss on the forehead.

“so you’re gonna let me pay rent now?” you ask to your brother, smiling.

“i guess so.” he replied. you knew he was happy too. “gonna get you an actual gift though”

they were planning a big christmas party, they invited some people from work, the girls and some other people you didn’t really know, so you were expecting to spend the night with james. you went all out, put on your favorite red dress which was short but still fancy for the event.

once you were ready, half of the party was already there, including all of james’ coworkers and friends. you sat next to him on the couch, they were all there all talking about something from his work you didn’t really understand.

they were all dressed up too, but what shocked you the most was that james was wearing a suit, sure, his necktie was already loose and the buttons on his shirt too, but he looked amazing.

“can i stay with you for the rest of the night? i don’t really know anyone here.” you whispered into his ear, nervous about the answer.

“sure” he nodded. “hey, henry” he called for his coworker that was sitting on the arm of ouch.

“yeah?” the guy answered.

“this is y/n, the friend i was telling you about the other day.” james gestures to you. you can’t help but smile awkwardly and wonder what he said about you.

“oh, hi! pleasure to meet you.” he got up from his chair and shook your hand, smiling at james and nodding. what did that mean?

“pleasure to meet you too.” you smile at him.

“i’m just gonna get some drinks, i’ll ill be right back. do you want something?” james asked you.

“just a soda.” he gets up and heads to the kitchen.

“so, tell me, how are your brownies?” henry jokes, you look at him confused.

“good, i guess, but thats a biased opinion.” you answer, curious on how he knew about your brownies.

“you know, james talks about you all the time.” he comments, you were sure he already had a few drinks.

“really? what does he say?”

“when you first moved in he hated you, you know? he always said it was fun to make you mad and all. but since october he’s been so nice when he talks about you, i personally think he fancies you, but i wouldn’t know. i don’t think he’d tell me if he did, specially because you’re his friends sister and all.” he was rambling but you really enjoyed the part he said about james seeing you as more than a friend, you enjoyed it so much you didn’t even pay attention to what he said after that.

“i doubt it, we just turned into good friends, that’s all.”

“nah, i think he wants to make you into something else.” henry might’ve just made your entire night with that phrase. you couldn’t hide your smile anymore.

“here’s your soda, a beer for you, henry” james handed the drinks and took a sip of his coke. you sat next to him, holding your soda in both of your hands, looking down at it nervously. “did something happen?” he asked you.

“no, just thinking ‘bout something” you answer, looking into his eyes now. he smiles, wrapping his arm around your waist. that makes you so flustered, you feel your entire body getting warmer and that’s just the start of it.

for the rest of the night, he stayed by your side. his hand resting on your waist, thigh, around your shoulders, wherever he wanted them. you could feel your heart beating in your chest for most of the time. he had never done that before, not in public and surely not like that, not in a sexual manner, at least that’s how you identified it, because one thing was a friendly touch, the other was what he was doing.

he made you feel needy, aching for more - he was making you want him.

did he notice? did he ever even perceive how he made you feel? how could he not?

goosebumps covered you once he grazed your thigh for the first time out of five, the fifth was when he finally let his hand stay put there.

it made you feel crazy, it really did.

you didn’t know if he meant it as you took it, but you really hoped he did.

the party was still going around 1am, james had disappeared and you were left sitting on the couch, waiting for him to come back.

you couldn’t stop thinking about him and it made you feel kind of silly. you were a bit disappointed that nothing happened but you sort of expected it. you knew nothing would actually occur, but still, it made you a bit sad. maybe the touch lead you on, but it-

you looked at your phone once it vibrated and you felt the absolute need to scream because of how excited the text made you, but you didn’t.

‘James: come to my room once you read this, please.’

you didn’t think much of it, though you would’ve come if he just asked you to like he normally did.

you finished your drink and knocked on his door. he opened it but didn’t look at you, his eyes were focused on your knees, he looked nervous.he was still wearing his pants and the dress shirt, except it was unbuttoned. shit.

“y/n?” he was looking at you now.

fuck.

“yeah?”

“you look really good tonight.”

“i clean up nice sometimes.” you smile.

“oh please, you always look good” he turned a bit pink once he said it. “and thats a really nice dress” his voice was low when he said it, was he actually hitting on you?

“thank you” you whispered, you couldn’t help but feel anxious as his body got closer to yours.

“you know, i’ve been thinking about something for a while now” he says. you could feel your stomach start to twist and turn because you were so anxious on what he was doing next. you hummed, making sure he would continue what he was saying, but he didn’t.

he just kissed you like it was the easiest thing in the world. he pulled you into his room and closed the door, locking it quickly.

the feeling of his lips on yours was something you craved for a while now, you needed it so much you started to wonder if it was normal for you to need something this much.

you couldn’t stop once it started. his hands were on your hips and you tugged onto his hair desperately.

kissing him is redefining the whole concept of kissing to you, and probably ruining every other sexual experience you could have for the rest of your life.

he pushed you into the door, his hands now on your ass.

“shit” he let out quickly as he stopped kissing you so roughly and started giving you quick pecks. “you have no idea how long i wanted to do this.” you hummed. “you’re so fucking hot, it makes me crazy.” the praise was making your stomach twist again, a wet spot being formed between your legs.

he carried you with your legs around his body and took you to his bed. the same bed you have used to lay down to watch movies, to just gossip or discuss things, to do whatever.

he sat down and kept you on his lap, straddling him, but you needed more. as he kissed you roughly and messily you would casually rock your hips, causing friction. after you did that a few times he laid you down on the bed, telling you to stop being such a tease, he got on top of you, supporting himself with his knees, one of them between your legs, causing friction and making you more aroused.

when he started playing with the strings that held the dress together, you knew you were done for, so you let him undo the bow, kissing your neck. he was messy, sometimes he would bite and it would send bolts of electricity down your spine.

“james…” you let out as he bit you again.

“tell me” he said, trailing his kisses down to your clavicle. “can i take this off too?” he asked, playing with your bra. you nodded but he didn’t move an inch.

“i need to hear you say it. can i take this off?” he was such a fucking tease, it made you go crazy. he loved to hear your voice, he knew you wanted him to take it off, he just liked to hear you say it.

“yes, please” you struggled to hold in a moan once he started sucking on your neck.

“thank you” he answered, looking back to the hickey he gave you. “hmm, that’s gonna leave a mark, sorry baby” baby? he had never called you that, you hummed as he took off his collared shirt and then proceeded to take off your bra . he groaned at the sight of you, which drove you mad. his growing bulge was exposed.

he was big.

you immediately regretted every single time you had made a small dick joke (sure, there were only 2 times but they did happen).

he was on his knees, towering over you.

“you’re so pretty”, he leaned down to kiss you again, this time more eager than ever. his right hand cupped your jaw as his left one roamed your body, making you ache for more and more. “i really wanna touch you” he whispered and went back to kissing you, his left hand now between your thighs, waiting for permission to move.

“please” you whisper, stopping the kiss briefly. he kept on kissing you as he stimulated you through the fabric of your underwear, but that didn't happen for long, especially because of how wet it was, he needed to touch you, he couldn't help himself. the dress was so hiked up it looked like a shirt, but instead of helping you take it off, he pulled it down a bit, so he had access to your chest. he immediately started kissing around your left tit, making you go absolutely insane. and that combined with the sudden touch to your clit? yeah, you were getting fucked up that night.

he was better than anyone had ever been to you. sucking in your nipple and fingering you slowly, he was making you go crazy, needing him more.

he stopped sucking on your nipple and went back to your neck, his hand not stopping at all. the right one went to cover your mouth as you moaned.

“be quiet, hm? want everyone to listen? don’t wanna stuff that pretty mouth of yours too” his non dominant hand went to your neck, choking you lightly as his other one fucked into you. you were so close to cumming, with his thumb stimulating your clit as his other fingers went in and out of you, he knew that you were close, specially with the way your pussy was tightening around him. “so fucking tight, aren’t you? can’t imagine how you’re gonna feel around my cock” he stopped and took his fingers out, making you whine, missing the feeling of him.

“jameees” you moan, finding the courage in you to pull him in, giving him a kiss.

“take it off”

“what?” you’re confused.

“the dress, i really wanna fuck you in it but i don’t wanna ruin it.” he lets out. “take it off” he sounded like he was ordering you, and you loved it so much, you wanted to give something back to him.

“i will, but can i suck you off first?” you ask, looking at him doe eyed, and how could he say no?

“you really want to?” he asks, furrowed brows, you nod, quickly getting on your knees as he unbuckles his belt, throwing it on the carpet. he got up and pulled his pants down, staying just in his boxers, he climbed back into bed with you, kissing you sweetly.

you were on your knees in front of him, pulling his cock out of his underwear, stroking it lightly then kissing the tip. you take him in your mouth, using your hands to stroke what couldn’t fit, which, frankly, was about a bigger portion of it. he was the biggest you ever had.

“fuck” he groaned at the movements you were making, using his left hand to get strands of hair out of your face, as his right one supported him on the bed. he was trying not to thrust into your mouth but you were making it so hard. “your mouth was made for me, baby” he whispered, looking into your eyes. his free hand went to your neck, choking you just a bit, as your head bobbed up and down, taking as much as possible.

“so good, your mouth feels so goddamn good honey” he groaned as he finished the sentence and you used your non dominant hand to cup his balls. he was moaning a bit and it was the hottest thing you’ve ever seen or heard, though you were sure you would see hotter things that same night. he started thrusting lightly, he couldn’t help himself, specially with how good your mouth made him feel.

“stop” he ordered you, and so you did, a pop sound being made as you stopped sucking and looked up at him.

“did i do something wrong?” you ask, brows furrowed. his hand hasn’t left your neck, and so he pulls you in by it. his tongue went straight in your mouth, he needed to taste him on your lips.

“i wanna fuck you” he said, looking into your eyes, waiting for any kind of response.

“yes. please do” you quickly say, kissing him quickly.

“the dress” he remembers and you quickly take it off, not stopping the staring for a second.

“want you down on all fours” he says, getting on his knees. you do as he commands, getting in an arch position as he’s on his knees behind you. he can see that you still haven’t taken off your underwear, he bites on your ass cheek and then pulls it down with his teeth.

“you don’t mind if i keep this, don’t you?” he asks, helping you take it off fully. “it’s already ruined”

“it’s yours” you look back at him, he’s smirking like the devil. he throws your underwear into his bedside drawer.

“gotta keep it safe” he whispers. you can feel his bulge through his boxers as he leans in to kiss your neck, you whine, needing him more.

“patience, i’m gonna give it to you, sweetheart” his right hand gave your ass a smack. “up” he said, signaling for you to arch your back even more. as you do so, he groans, pressing his covered member against your wet cunt.

“you’re so pretty like this, all for me?” he asked, using his hand to play with your clit.

“y-yes, all yours” you said, trying not to whine mid sentence.

“good girl. mine” he gave your shoulder a quick peck. “gonna put it in now, okay? tell me if you wanna stop” he took his dick from out of his boxers and pumped it a few times. you could’ve fainted once you felt his tip lined up to your entrance.

he went in slowly, he was way to big for you. every time you thought he was done, there would still be more of him left.

“jaaames” you would whine

“just a bit left; don’t worry, princess” once he was fully inside of you, you felt amazing, like you were in heaven. “you’re so fucking tight, ‘feels so good” he said, trying to to groan, his voice was raspy.

if took a few thrusts for you to get used to his size, but as soon as he picked up a pace, you were a mess. you couldn’t hold in your sounds, the way he was stimulating your clit was absolutely killing you.

“be fucking quiet” he demanded with a groan, “you want everyone to know who you belong to, huh?” he didn’t stop, he just went quicker as a matter of fact.

“fuck!” you squealed as he pinched your clit, his thrusts began to be more rough, you couldn’t even focus. you’re eyes kept rolling back, your mind was fully blank and the only thing that was coming out of your mouth in that moment was a mixture of james, fuck, shit and a few other curse words.

you were in ecstasy.

“you like this, don’t you?” he was grunting lowly in between every few thrusts. you were so close, you felt your high coming to you, the way he was fucking you was not helping with you trying to hold it.

“james ohmygod james, im gonna cum” you say, trying not to stumble over your words.

“ask nicely and i’ll let you” he said, stopping the stimulation on your clit and thrusting harder. he was close too, the way your tight pussy would clench around him was making him go insane.

“please let me cum, james. need it so bad” you blurted out in between whining and moaning. he grins and goes back to stimulating you.

“good girl, do it” he went faster and didn’t stop playing with your clit. your eyes rolled back and you let it go.

your walls clench tight around him, he didn’t stop as you made a mess all over his dick.

as you finished, his thrusts only got harder, you were feeling so overstimulated and you felt like he was close too.

“fuck, sweetheart. gonna cum inside you, that’s alright?” you moaned in answer.

his hips stuttered and you felt his cock twitch spilled inside of you, his juices mixing with yours.

he made sure he got rid of every single drop.

your legs were shaking as he pulled out and tucked himself back into his underwear, you collapsed on the bed and he laid down next to you.

“wanna go back to the party?” he jokes, looking into your eyes.

“shut up” you reply, looking at the ceiling of his room.

“gonna clean you up, okay?” james assured you as he threw you a shirt of his that was under the bed. you put it on but pulled him closer to you.

“okay, but just stay with me for a while if that’s alright.” you asked.

“always” he pressed a kiss onto your forehead and you knew that this was not going to be a one time thing.

#lila writes #james potter x reader #james potter fic #james potter smut #james potter x y/n #james potter x you #james potter oneshot #james potter fanfiction #james potter imagine #marauders x reader #silencesscreams

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alivegirldetectiveagency · 5 months ago

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dbda from jenny’s perspective is sooo. she lives alone running her families butcher shop. she rents out spare rooms but her only tenants are two teen girls. one is a shut in dropout who abruptly becomes not a shut in and is overly invested in her love life. Said love life almost gets her killed. the other tenant just appears one day, pays head rent with misc cash and coins, and makes noise constantly. they hang out in the shop constantly and seemingly have no other hang out spot. one of the girls randomly storms out talking about hell and meeting up with her shitty ex so she gets a knife and goes as well because what the fuck. then she gets possessed by a demon. also her tenant has tiny people living in a jar in her room. the pet policy for the apartment does not cover that. also the constant noise is the ghosts of two english boys living in her house. also that local asshole is a child stealing witch. the child stealing witch blows up her shop and kidnaps the ghosts. the girls go to rescue the ghosts and only one comes back. she gets invited to move to london england and is like sure why the fuck not might as well think about it because a witch blew up her place of employment.

#dead boy detectives #jenny green #jenny the butcher #dbda

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fuckyeahgoodomens · 11 months ago

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Ooh! A wonderful interview with Rich Keeble who played Mr. Arnold (the one with the Doctor Who Annual :)) in S2! :)❤

Q: In Good Omens 2 you play Mr. Arnold, who runs the music shop on Whickber Street. Were you a fan of Good Omens before joining the cast, and is it challenging to take on such an iconic story which is already loved by a huge fanbase?

A: “There’s always pressure if you’re working on something with an existing fanbase and people might have an idea already as to how you should be approaching something. To be honest I was aware of the show but I hadn’t actually seen it before I was asked to get involved. I knew it was something special though! I remember talking to Tim Downie [Mr. Brown] about how when you tape for certain things you know if something’s a “good one”. Of course by the time I was on set I’d watched Season 1 and read the book.

I had an interesting route into the show actually: I was asked at the last minute to read the stage directions at the tableread on Zoom, and Douglas [Mackinnon] the director called me up to discuss pronunciations of the character names etc. To prepare further I quickly watched the first episode on Prime Video, and I was very quickly drawn into it. A couple of hours later I was on a Zoom call with David [Tennant], Michael [Sheen] (with his bleached hair), Neil [Gaiman], Douglas and the whole team, including Suzanne [Smith] and Glenda [Mariani] in casting. After that readthrough I asked my agent to try and see if she could shoehorn me in and she came back with a tape for Mr. Arnold saying “you play the piano don’t you…?” They wanted me to demonstrate my musical playing ability, so I rented a rehearsal studio room in Brixton for an hour and filmed myself playing piano (and drums just in case), then I did my scenes a couple of different ways and I guess it wasn’t too terrible!”

Q: During episode five you mimed to music written by series composer David Arnold alongside a real string quartet – this must have been very immersive! How did it feel to work with David, and bring the ball to life?

A: “I actually didn’t meet David Arnold sadly, but I did work with Catherine Grimes, the music supervisor who is lovely. David was at the London screening but I missed an opportunity to go and say hello to him which I kicked myself about.

I remember before I was in Scotland there was a bit of uncertainty as to whether I would need to play anything for real or not, so I practised every day playing loads of Bach and other music I thought was era-appropriate just in case they asked me to do anything on the fly. So yes, it was very immersive as you say! They sent me three pieces of music to learn which I practised in my Edinburgh apartment on a portable folding keyboard thing I bought. They introduced me to the string quartet (John, Sarah, Alison and Stephanie) and I tried to hang out with them when I could. On the day we all had earpieces to mime to. I had to mime while listening out for a cue from Nina [Sosanya] from across the room, then deliver my dialogue and carry on playing, which was tricky! The quartet and I helped each other out actually: Douglas would say something like “let’s go from a minute into the second piece of music”, I’d look at the sheet music and whisper “where the hell is that?” and one of the quartet would say “we think that’s bar 90” or something. Here’s a little bit of trivia: the shooting overran and the string quartet couldn’t make the last day, so they found some incredible lookalikes to replace them for the scene when we get lead out of the bookshop through all the demons, although I think they also kept them deliberately off camera.”

Q: What did you think of your music shop when you first saw the set? Did you have a favourite poster or prop?

A: “I thought it was incredible! It could’ve been an actual music shop with all the instruments hanging up with the “Arnold’s” price tags on. The attention to detail was incredible, well IS incredible as I understand it’s all still there. It’s hard to pick a favourite to be honest. I did a little video walkaround on my phone at the time so maybe I’ll post that if I won’t get in trouble. Interestingly the shop interior itself was elsewhere on the set to the shop entrance you see from the street. You walk out of Aziraphale’s shop, over the road, through the door of the music shop and… there’s nothing.”

Q: Mr. Arnold is tempted into the ball by a Doctor Who Annual and is playing the theme in the music shop scene – are you a fan of Doctor Who in real life? And what was it like making those jokes and references in front of the Tenth Doctor David Tennant?

A: “I’ve always dipped in and out of Doctor Who over the years since Sylvestor McCoy, who was doing it when I first became aware of it when I was growing up. Even if you’re not a fan it’s one of those shows you can’t really get away from, so doing that particular scene in front of David was really fun, and of course Douglas had directed Doctor Who as well. Apart from the amusing situation of two supposed Doctor Who fans talking about Doctor Who without realising they’re in the company of a Doctor Who, I also seem to remember Michael being the one to suggest that he would deliver his “due to problems at the BBC” line directly to David.

Oh, and I think it was actually my idea to grab the annual off the harpsichord before joining the queue behind Crowley at the end of the ballroom scene (which we’d shot weeks earlier at this point). When we were blocking it out and rehearsing I knew I had to leave my position and get to the front for my “surrender the angle” line, and then later it just felt like I wouldn’t leave without the annual so I ran back through everyone to grab it. Nobody seemed to have a problem with me doing that so I just carried on doing it when we shot it! I do remember it being a fun set with Douglas and the team being very open to suggestions.”

Q: How did you balance filming both Good Omens and BBC Ghosts at the same time?

A: “Luckily both shows were a joy to work on, and everyone seems to know about both of them. We were shooting them in early 2022 and I also had a little part in an ITV drama called ‘Stonehouse’, starring Matthew Macfadyen. I usually never know when I’m working next so to have three great TV jobs at once was very unusual. There was all this date juggling and I actually almost had to turn down Ghosts due to clashes. Luckily both shows had to move some dates so it worked out. But yes, I spent two weeks up in Scotland shooting all that Good Omens ballroom stuff, then I came back down to London to do Ghosts, knowing I’d be back up to shoot my scenes in the music shop in a couple of weeks. Now, when I found out who was playing my wife in Ghosts I couldn’t believe it: Caroline Sheen – Michael Sheen’s cousin! She was amazing and that was another great set in general. I say “set”, but it’s all filmed in that house which surprised me. I’d worked with Kiell [Smith-Bynoe] and Jim [Howick] before, and Charlotte [Ritchie] was in the Good Omens radio play a few years ago and a big fan of the book. Charlotte’s very musical of course and we got talking about my folding keyboard I had for practising my Good Omens stuff, and she ended up setting it up in the house for us to have a play on!

Now, when we’d shot all our internal scenes there was this big storm forecast, and our external scenes were scheduled for the day of the storm, so that had to be moved into the next week. It meant I ended up shooting those scenes outside the house, then going straight back up to Scotland to shoot the Good Omens music shop scene the next day! When I mentioned to Michael I’d just worked with Caroline he said “ooh she’s in Ghosts is she!” and revealed that she’d texted him about me which was rather surreal. Then later after the Ghosts wrap party Kiell gave me a part in his Channel 4 Blap, so at the time I felt like I was killing it career wise, but the industry quietened a bit after that and my workload eased off over the year so I was in my overdraft by November.”

Q: What are your plans for the future – can we expect to see you in something else soon?

A: “This year, after a bit of a quiet start, I was very fortunate to work on a Disney+ show called Rivals which stars… David Tennant! I think I’m allowed to say my character is called Brian, and I shot five episodes so that was another really amazing job, and great to work with David again (I told him he must be my good luck charm, although I hope he’s not sick of me). That should be out at some point in late 2024. Other than that I’ve filmed a few other bits I presume will be out next year, one of which is called Truelove on Channel 4 which actually looks really good. That starts early January. Of course now Season 3 of Good Omens has been greenlit, I would love Neil and the gang to have me back on that… but I can only keep my fingers crossed!”

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hoe4sports · 4 months ago

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So Long, London

Leah Williamson x reader

A/N: Please be sensitive about this. This is how i grew up and I’m going through a rough patch with my mother. This is based on «So Long, London» by Taylor Swift. Feel free to listen to the added song as you read this for extra feelings. Even if you dont like her, take a listen.

Summary: You grow up with a mother that refuses to work. You have to leave football to pay rent at 11. Your mother tells you that life is supposed to be hard. Until one day, Leah’s dad tells you that it’s not supposed to be this hard.

Warnings/triggers: Angst. Childhood poverty. Verb abuse.

I saw in my mind fairy lights through the mist,

I kept calm and carried the weight of the rift,

Your hand was trembling on the door handle. It was hard to sort out if it actually was your hand that was trembling from nervousness or your whole body from exhaustion. Tears pressed on your eyelids, but you knew better. Your lungs opted for a deep breath to stop the shaky breaths that had been running wild since you started walking back home from work.

It was cold outside. The kind of cold that leaves your body shivering so bad that when you finally get inside, it feels like your core is frozen. God, you think. You are so tired. Yet, you cant seem to enter your own house. Well, it’s not really your house. It’s your mother’s house that she rents. Actually, she rents but you pay.

You take a deep breath before pulling yourself together. Building up your invisible shield to protect you from your own blood. Not physically, but mentally. “Just one more month”, your mother says. She says that every month. And every month, you believe her. The believing her is what keeps you going. “Just one more month, then you can focus on middle school again.” That’s what your mother always say. She has been telling you that for years. You continue to believe it. Maybe she will try to get a job next month. Except, she won’t.

“Life is supposed to be hard” is what your mother would always reply like it was the solution to all the problems in the world. To her, it was. To you, it was the cause of all your problems. You are only 11. You are supposed to be playing in the sun with your girlfriends from school. You are supposed to be chasing your dreams with your team. You are supposed to like to dress up in pretty dresses. You are supposed to go to tournaments with you bestfriends, Leah, Ella and Alessia. You are supposed to be free from adulting worries. You are supposed to be a child. But you cant. Your mother refuses to work, and your baby sister needs roof over her head. And your mother refuses. So you work. Because it’s just, one more month.

You are lost in your thoughts when your hand opens the door startling you. Your feet step inside the hallway, but it feels like your head is still outside. Like it’s floating away like a balloon, a million miles above your house. Your trembling hands puts your backpack down before it quietly unzips your coat. It’s soaked. But that is expected, you have been walking with the news paper for hours. The shoes on your feet gets neatly put away in the shelf. But you stop. You take them and the coat with you into your room, not wanting to take up too much space.

When you make it to your bedroom, you feel safe. It’s not really a bedroom, it used to be a pantry but it fits a bed and a small desk. It’s sad that it doesn’t have windows, but you like it regardless because it keeps the cold somewhat out. The coat gets put up on the pole of your bed and the shoes gets put next to the wall. You take your backpack off and place it down infront of you. The coldness of your hands are still present, but it’s okay. Life is supposed to be hard. You unzip your backpack to find the contents soaked, again. Your belly hurts. You promised your teacher to keep your books dry. Now, they are ruined. They are falling apart at the seam. You try to place it on your desk, standing up while you spread the pages hoping it will dry. Maybe you can try to glue it close when you get to school.

The door creaks and your head freezes. “Did you make any money tonight?” Your mother asks. You nod before emptying your pockets. 110 punds. Your shaking hand offers them to your mother. She smiles. She always does when you give her the money she needs. “Thank you, don’t stay up too late” she says as she leaves the room. You cant help but frown. You are so painfully tired. You get up at 5 every morning. You walk your neighbour, Mrs. Tiller’s dog for 5 p every morning. Then, at 6, you walk to school. You reach school just before 8. Your mother used to drive you. Then when she couldn’t afford the car, you catch the bus. But the cost of tickets rised, so now you walk. School is over at 4 every day. Then you walk home. Usually, you are home around 6.30 because you are tired. It forces you to walk slower. Sometimes you stop and sit on a bench to rest. Around 7, you head out to give out the news papers for tomorrow. There was no routes available close to your house, and most people won’t hire an eleven year old. So you take what you get given. From 7 to 11.30, you walk with the news papers. Sometimes, you get tips, explanations if it rains or if you are sick. Because people feel bad for you. But you don’t care, because life is supposed to be hard. Your eyes are tired as you try to do your homework from you soaked books. You end up sitting at your desk, close to falling asleep. But, it’s okay, you think. It’s only for one more month. Expect, it isn’t.

And you say I abandoned the ship,

But I was going down with it,

You are now 14. One more month, your mother still says. Every time you tell her that you feel like you can’t catch your breath. Just one more month. You now know that’s not true. That it’s forever. But you smile and keep quiet. You never make a fuss. You pretend to believe her. As long as you pay the rent, your mother doesn’t care. But, life is supposed to be hard, so it’s okay. You skip school to work at the local gas station. But your mother doesn’t know that you work there. She thinks you still walk with newspaper. It hurts to lie to her. She likes you, she says. But, she loves your sister.

Your mother hates lying. She yells at you if you lie. But your boss is your friend Leah’s dad. He gives you one check a month. Just enough to cover the rent. But he pays for your football with your friends. And he sneaks you cash when he can. That way, your mother doesn’t get suspicious. It hurts to lie, you think. It makes you feel on edge. Like you are always on guard. Like someone will come rip it all away from you. But it’s okay, life is supposed to be hard.

One day, you come home from work and from practice. You make sure to not come home too early. So you wait at the field, not wanting to cause any suspicion in your mother. It’s the same routine still. You come home, bring your clothes to your room, your mother comes in to ask for money and then she leaves.

One day, that goes all wrong. You come home too soon. You don’t mean to come home too soon, but you do. The exhaustion is ripping you apart and you need to sleep. So you sneak into your room with your clothes. But you forgot to change out of the pair of hand-me-down shorts Leah’s mom gave you and you are still wearing Leah’s brother’s old club shirt. It makes your mother furious. She tells you that you are an awful kid. That you are irresponsible. That she wishes someone could come and take you away so she doesn’t have to deal with you. And you don’t say anything back, you keep your head down and let her tell you how awful you are. She forces you to change and she then takes your shorts and t-shirt away. Then she slams the door shut. And she doesn’t talk to you for weeks.

After pleading your mother to speak to you, to aknowledge you for weeks. She looks at you with disappointment in her eyes. You try to explain. Football is the only thing that brings you happiness. And your coach says that you have real talent. That you might make it. Your mother tells you that might dosent get you anywhere. That football is for immature children. That you need to be a responsible adult and work. You nod. But, you aren’t an adult. You are a child. You are 14. But, life is supposed to be hard, your mother says. And you quit football. Because life isn’t supposed to be fun. Life is supposed to be hard.

My white knuckle dying grip,

Holding tight to your quiet resentment and,

My friends said it isn't right to be scared,

Every day of a love affair.

You keep the schedule. Work-School-Work. Until you are 15. One day, you get called to the front desk. You feel scared. Maybe your mother finally got someone to take you away? So you could stop being a burden. For a split second, the thought of someone taking you away, relieves the heavy feeling you have in your gut. Maybe, just maybe, things will be better, you think. But, you find your old coach at school, Leah’s dad. Rather, he manages to pull you out of your class to talk to you. The sight of him makes you want to cry. You want to ask him to take you away. To find some other family that you can live in. Maybe one of the group homes you learn about in social studies isn’t that bad. But you lie. You tell him, The joy you felt playing football is gone. And you haven’t been able to feel that kind of joy since. But you tell him that it’s okay. That life is supposed to be hard.

He frowns and shakes his head. He says that life isn’t supposed to be this hard. That kids needs to get to play and have fun. That you aren’t supposed to work when you are 11. That your mother is supposed to be working. You think about believing him. That his word might be true. But you remember. Your mother warned you. That people will try to convince you otherwise. So you shut him down. You tell him that you just don’t life football anymore. That it’s boring. But all you want to do is cry.

You turn your back to him while he calls your name. But you continue walking all the way down the hallway. To the left and then up the stairs. To the right and to your classroom. You quietly slip into the room finding your seat, doing your best at being invisible. Leah furrows her brows at you and tries to whisper something about what happened. You try to smile to her, but it dosent look real. Not at all. You can’t really smile anymore. Because you are so tired. You work all day and do homework all night. Your grades suffers from that. But, you think that it’s okay. Life is supposed to be hard, you think.

A week later, after working a night shift, you go back to school. Still in the same clothes as yesterday. When you get into your classroom, you slip quietly into your spot next to Leah. She smiles at you. And you try to smile back. But, you are just so tired. She asks you if you are okay. And she knows about your mother. She asks if your mother is being tough on you. You think about telling her the truth. But you just shrug. You smile sadly at her, and tell her that life is supposed to be hard.

When you get to work that night, Leah and her dad is there. You light up. Are you working tonight, you ask. But you know the answer. She dosent work. She doesn’t have too. She focus on football. On getting better. On being a child. Leah’s dad shakes his head. He says that it has gone on too long. That you need help. That your mother needs help. You feel offended. You don’t need help, you think. You pay the rent, you think. You are responsible. But when you want to argue with him, Leah looks at you with her warm smile. She asks if you want to sleep over. And you think about it. Your mother wouldn’t know. But you have work, you tell her. She looks at her father, he says you can have the night off. You can’t afford that, you say. But he smiles, he says that he will make sure you get pained. So you agree. To go home to Leah and sleep at her place.

When you get to her house, it’s like you want to cry. You get a warm bath with bubbles and bathbombs. As you dry off, you smell dinner. Her mom has made your favourite. Spaghetti and meatballs. Red sauce. Salad and garlic bread with Parmesan. You look at the dinner on the plate and you dig in. The feeling of being full is something you don’t really get a lot, so you feel tired and warm and fussy. You and Leah go to bed in her room. But before you do, Leah needs to go get her backpack from the car. While you wait, her mom pulls you aside. She tells you that you can always tell her if you need help. If you need somewhere to stay. That she thinks of you as her second daughter. And if it wasn’t for you being so full and warm and fluffy inside, you would’ve gotten angry. But you don’t. You thank her. Then Leah comes back and you go to her bedroom. Her nice room with soft carpets. And curtains. And a nice mirror with lights on them. She even has a big bed with two nightstands. You borrow some soft pyjamas. They look brand new, and you decline. But Leah says it’s okay. That she can get new ones. So you accept. Leah has already fallen asleep. So you scoot into her for comfort. Her soft snores are comforting, you think. And you cuddle up to her. She wraps her hands around you in her sleep. Like when you were kids. She’s still your bestfriend. You close your eyes. But you hear the door of Leah’s bedroom going up. You open one of your eyes slightly. Just enough to see, but not enough to let them see that you are awake. It’s her mom. She comes in. She kisses Leah’s forehead. She moves around to your side and kisses your forehead too. Then she wraps the comforter around you both. Just like she did when you were kids. But you still are kids. You feel confused as you lay there with closed eyes. Maybe life isn’t supposed to be this hard.

The next morning, you get ready together. You get another shower and you borrow some of Leah’s clothes. They are nice and warm. You don’t really have warm clothes anymore. It’s too expensive. But Leah’s parents takes care of her, and of you. Her dad has already turned on the car to warm it up before he drops you off at school. When you stand in the kitchen, waiting for Leah. Her mom looks at you with tears in her eyes. She tucks your hair behind your ear. And you feel the tears pressing too. You throw yourself around her. She hugs you back as you cry. And she holds you. You look up at her while you shake. You both know that you are not going back to your mothers house. But you don’t know what to say.

Maybe life isn’t supposed to be this hard, you say. And Leah’s mother understands.

So how much sad did you think I had,

Did you think I had in me?

How much tragedy?

Just how low did you think I'd go?

Before I'd self-implode,

Before I'd have to go be free

You sit across from your mother. It’s an office. It’s bright and white and clinical. You stay with Leah’s parents now. And you don’t work. But you play football again. Your mother crosses her arms as the therapist talks. You look down at your shoes. The eyes of your mother is burning into your chest. You feel a cry gather up in your throat. And you want to run away. To hide. To never come back. A part of you wishes you never asked for help. But a part of you knows that, if you didn’t get help. If Leah’s mother didn’t help you. You wouldn’t be here’s

She’s making up things, your mother says. You don’t bother arguing. You just stare at the floor while your mother takes a verbal stab at you infront of the therapist. She’s irresponsible, she’s says. Ungrateful, she says. The anger is building up in her voice. And you feel scared. Like when you were 11. And walked the streets to hand out the newspaper. In the middle of the night. To pay rent. But you don’t say anything. You just look at the therapist. She raises a brow at you. And you nod.

The therapist smiles and stands up. A second later , Leah’s mom comes into the room. There aren’t any chairs close to you. But, she sits next to you. Moving the chairs around, arranging for you to feel safe. It’s nice, you think. Leah’s mom is perfect. She is kind. Helpful. And she won’t say mean things about you. Not even when you aren’t there. Her hand takes yours. It’s magical, you think. You feel safer. Warmer. Stronger. Just as if her hands have superpowers.

The therapist continues on talking. You can’t really underatand everything. You are just tired. Even though you have stayed at Leah’s for a few weeks, you still feel tired. Leah’s mom got worried, so she took you to the doctor. You hadn’t really been there before, but she came with her. The doctor did tests and took you blood. Then he told you that you were burned out. That he was pulling you out of school for a few weeks. That you needed to do something fun. Fun to you was football. Or used to bed but it was too late to play now. You got scared, but Leah’s mom said that she was gonna take care of it. You felt scared to believe her, but you did. And she took care of it. You got a tutor that helped you better your grades. You started football with Leah, and you loved it again. You feel like you might die if you have to go to your mother again.

The therapist talks. Leah’s mom says that you are kind. That you help out at home without being told to. That she sometimes stops you from overworking yourself. That she reminds you to be a kid. That you are respectful. And polite. And, easy to love. You feel warm inside when Leah’s mom talks about you. But you can see your mother’s face when you look up. She is angry. Her face is tight. And she’s smirking at you in a way that scares you, like payback.

The therapist then talks to you. He asked you questions and you don’t really know the answers to anything. You shrug and hold on to Leah’s mom. To comfort. To her love. The room is silent as you mother looks at you. Leah’s mom looks at you. The therapist looks at you. You gulp before looking your mother in her eyes. You hold Leah’s mom tight. Life isn’t supposed to be this hard, you say.

You swore that you loved me but where were the clues?

I died on the altar waiting for the proof,

You sacrificed us to the gods of your blues

You stay with Leah’s parents. Permanently, you decided. You get new clothes. And a bedroom with fairy lights. And carpets. And a desk. And a big bed. And clothes. And cleats and workout clothes. Even a new phone and a computer for your school work. You like it, but you feel scared. Maybe this is too much, you think. Maybe you are too expensive, you worry. But Leah’s mom reads your mind. She assures you that you deserve a space for you. That you need things. A room. Clothes. That you deserve dignity.

Life gets better from here. When Leah celebrates her 16th birthday with your 16th birthday, you feel sad. You don’t know many people. But you are happy for Leah. Because her family is coming over with gifts for her. You decide to wait upstairs as you sniffle before putting your new summer dress on. It’s pink and it’s the nicest dress that you own. The only dress you own. You hear Leah callling from downstairs, and you feel embarrassed that you made her wait for her gifts so you hurry down. But you stop mid stairs. Leah’s family has gather at the bottom of the stairs. They have gifts and cake and balloons in their hands. And they all yell, surprise! It makes you confused until Leah comes up and grabs your hand. She tells you that it’s your gifts. Your cakes. Your ballons. And your family. You feel grateful as you tear up. You blow your candles for the first time ever and her family hugs you. It feels safe. It feels like home. Home with Leah and her family.

She’s your bestfriend. But after your birthday party. You lay in the big swing in the garden together. Looking at clouds. Hearts. Starts. Balls. Cats. The skies has shapes. You haven’t really noticed it before. Leah grabs your hand as you both lay there. And you grab hers. It feels safe with Leah. She has been your bestfriends since you went to kindergarten together. But that changes. Leah kisses you. And you kiss her back. And suddenly, you are girlfriends.

At night, you get your makeup off and put your new soft pjs on. You start to think that this life is good. This is how life was supposed to be. And you feel like you might have accepted it. That it’s okay to feel happy. That this is what a family feels like. You start brushing your hair before preparing to braid it. You sit in the chair watching your hands brain in the mirror. You hear your phone buzz, and you look at it. It’s your mother. For the first time in a year. And you spiral. Immediately bursting into Leah’s room and her arms. She holds you tight. Her mother brings tea and you watch a movie together. Eventually, you pass out from exhaustion. And Leah, deletes the message. Leah says, life isn’t supposed to be this hard before she kisses the top of you head keeping you safe.

And I'm just getting color back into my face,

I'm just mad as hell cause I loved this place,

For so long, London

You are 17 now, and you finally got an offer to play for a club. You and Leah, got an offer together. But you don’t know how to feel. You are leaving to play. Leah is playing for Arsenal. She has been for a year. You got accepted into the girls under 18’s squad, but you made big progress. You didn’t think that it could be this good, that you deserved a life like this. But here you are. Leah’s mom and dad comes to every game. If you and Leah play at the same time; they split up so you can have someone there for you. You are scared to admit it, but you love it.

But now, Barcelona is knocking on your door. Leah’s door aswell. Leah has set her heart to leave. Barcelona is the greatest women’s club in the world, and she is one of the greatest players of her age. You are not there yet, but you get there eventually. But you don’t know that yet.

You feel scared. If Leah leaves and you stay behind, then she might break up with you. But she reassures you that she won’t. Because she loves you. And she chose you. Then you feel scared again. If Leah leaves and you stay behind, then where are you gonna stay. Leah’s mom laughs and says that this is your home too. That you can stay here for as long as you wish before you grow up. She says that you can go and come back if it gets too much.

That makes you feel safe. Leah’s family makes you feel safe. Her dad helps you make a decision. He tests your speed. Your strength. Your one vs one. Your dribbles. Your shots. Your agility. He watches Barcelona’s games on the tv with you. You analyse the team together taking notes to see if it matches with your current shape.

After a week, you call Barcelona back. You hang up after the call feeling empty as you walk down stairs. Leah sits down in the living room with her mom and her dad. They all look at you. Her dad looks worried. Leah looks terrified. Her mom smiles at you, like she always does. Always creating a safe heaven for you.

You gulp. Leah asks you, did you decline, she says. You swallow as you sight. Tears starts to press on your eyelids and your phone feels like it burns holes in your pockets. Leah takes a step towards you. You can see tears in her eyes too. You let out a breath and look at her.

Life isn’t supposed to be this hard, you say. I am going with you to Barcelona, you confirm and Leah breaks out in a huge smile. She pulls you in for a hug. Her mom and dad hugs you both at the same time. Your mom and dad hugs you both at the same time. A family hug.

A moment of warm sun,

But I'm not the one,

So long, London

You stare at your bags. You stare at Leah’s bags. Your dad looks at the bags before he starts shuffling them around to fit into the trunk of his car. Somehow, he makes it happen. You have dinner together for the last time. Spaghetti, meatballs, salad, garlic bread with Parmesan. Your favourite. It feels like the end of an era. You feel stronger now. Like you have grown into a woman. You have more respect for yourself now.

After dinner, you all drive to the airport. Ready to take on the world together. You and Leah, in your new apartment in Barcelona. As you pass through busy London streets, you pass people. Elders, youngsters, families and kids. You pass stores like Claire’s and primark. You pass a football field with little girls playing football. It makes you smile. You think about how one of those girls might be the next big thing. How all they need is one person who believes in them. One person to change it all.

You look over at Leah who is asleep. She always does this, falls asleep in rides. Trains, cars or planes; she always falls asleep. You grab your phone and go to the message section. You decide to type in a message. The message is to your mother, former mother. You tell her that you are moving to Spain. To play football with Leah. That your parents are diving you to the airport. That you hope she rottens away alone. And to never contact you again.

As you press send; you block her number. You look up when it’s done feeling 100 kilos lighter. Outside, the rain suddenly dries up and sun breaks through the heavy sky. You lower your shoulders as you breathe in the London smell for the last time, at least for a while. It’s good. You know that this is the start of your life. This is you prioritising you. That this is what you need. A place to call home, that doesn’t have any memories of your former mother.

At the airplane, you get to sit next to the window. You put your phone in airplane mode and watches as the flight takes off. The trees becomes small underneath you. The houses becomes like small sheds. The horses looks like grains of rice and you look over to Leah who is fast asleep holding you hand. You smile as you turn your head back to the window. The sun is shining more and more as you move higher up. You look at the familiar landscape while it disappears and whisper underneath your breath,

So long, London.

#woso imagine #woso x reader #woso fanfics #woso community #leah williamson x reader #leah williamson imagine #leah williamson #lionesses

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randombush3 · 1 year ago

Text

take me home

alexia putellas x reader

notes: idek i was just bored. i don’t even like this 😬

words: 2247

summary: it’s late, but you have a visitor you can’t turn away. (think ‘style’ by taylor swift)

warnings: (repurposed) smut. i don’t wanna talk abt that shocking portion of the fic tho so shh

The nights are lonelier than you had expected them to be when you moved here. Barcelona to London was a big change – a scary one, though it is difficult for your pride to let you admit that.

You, with your ambition, lost sight of what was supposedly tying you down, paying it as much attention as the other person in the relationship was. When you left, nothing really changed. You haven’t heard from her since.

So, as you sit in front of your TV, the bright colours of Sex Education illuminating the white walls of your otherwise dark apartment, you ask yourself once more why you are surprised. Why, every time you spend an evening alone, attempting to master the English language, your heart can’t help but crack a little bit more.

Eyes growing wearier by the minute, you cheat your immersion by texting a friend: no one particularly interesting. She is telling you about her vision for a song. A pianist she heard the other day has inspired her, and she wants your help. You often lend an experienced hand to the ones who need guidance when it comes to producing, but it’s midnight and you can’t be bothered at all. You realise that, in Spain, she must be out in the warmth of the city’s night, sitting on someone or other’s balcony, smoking a cigarette. A quick once-over of your own situation prods at a regret you have decided to ignore.

You’re in London for a reason.

The grating chirp of your buzzer causes your phone to be flung from your grip, landing on the rug beneath your bare feet with a soft, muted thud. Another ring of the buzzer has you groggily heading towards the intercom to the left of your door (painted red since yesterday, as urged by your mother who is all for personalising and making a place feel like home).

“Hello?” you question, too lazy to consider the shockingly short list of potential visitors.

The voice that replies wakes you up, practically setting your body aflame, syllables washing over you as though they come from the font at the altar. Holy. Well, you decide that they are equals.

And, oddly enough, despite moving to another country – despite leaving without saying goodbye, tears in your eyes only cried once your backs had been turned against each other, hands on either side of a door that wasn’t going to open again – you obey her command, slipping on your shoes without hesitation. You step into the lift, examining your tired reflection in the smudged mirror, wondering whether licking your thumb and smoothing out your eyebrows is really going to fix the dark eyebags that act like reverse eyeshadow on your face.

The car that waits outside your building, shadily parked by the pavement across the road, honks once, headlights off. You sigh, accepting your fate, and cross, pulling at the handle of the passenger side, opening the door onto a potentially disastrous night.

“Hola,” says Alexia. Her hair is loose, falling around her shoulders in professional curls. She is in London for a reason, too. From her white shirt and silk trousers, you deduce the kind of reason.

The air is tense, thick with unsaid words and the knowledge of what happened when you last spoke, but you slide onto the leather seat of the rented Audi anyway. “Hola,” you say back. She drives.

There are many questions you’d like to ask her, the first being how she found your address. They sit on your tongue; hopeful, waiting to be said. You swallow and succumb to the heavy silence, listening to the whir of the engine and roll of the tires on the wet tarmac of the roads she drives you down.

She has no map. She knows not where she is taking you, nor why she came in the first place. (The latter is a lie. She misses you. She tells herself she doesn’t.) In truth, she is surprised you don’t notice how she is going round in circles. Maybe you don’t get out much. Maybe you are just as miserable as she has been.

You moved away eight months ago. She has craved your presence for nine. No, ten. Maybe even for a lifetime.

Maybe you feel the same, though she wouldn’t know.

Maybe you want to come home.

Maybe leaving her has only shown you what was always there. What is no longer waiting for you in your apartment after late-night studio sessions or long, draining meetings. What is not a set weekend plan anymore: football matches; dinners with her team; nights at clubs together, dancefloor commandeered and dominated, dingy bathroom not long after. Then, Alexia realises that she has gambled, and that bets can be lost.

Though, if you had found someone else to dance with – to love, really – you’d probably be with them right now.

She wants to say something. Apologise, perhaps. Or ask how you are, solely to discover your current relationship status.

You get there first.

“It’s been a while since I have heard from you.”

She glances across the dashboard, turning right onto a long, tree-lined drive, not caring whether this may be trespassing. It’s hard to look at the road when she could be looking at you instead.

“I have been busy,” she offers.

“I see.”

She bites her tongue, eyes squinting in frustration with herself. Her grip on the steering wheel tightens, though you hardly notice, too occupied with searching for your self-control. You’ve never been blessed with much of it, but it exists within you to a certain extent. Surely.

You know you are wrong when she parks once more outside of your building, this time getting out. You follow suit, taking her hand wordlessly, leading her inside.

Instead of looking into the mirror, she presses you up against it, hands on your hips as you nod, bottom lip trapped between your teeth. Her eyes are wild, and you’d think she were drunk if she hadn’t been driving you around for the past twenty minutes. You don’t have to tell her to kiss you. She already knows what to do.

The lift doors open on your floor. You tug her out, taking her home. To your home – a word no longer shared between the two of you.

Your apartment is as dark as you left it, Netflix asking if you are still there as it interrupts Sex Education. You are now accidentally on the next episode.

She laughs quietly when she sees the TV, mouth opening against yours, sound in your mouth as you work to be consumed by her. You’ll probably regret this tomorrow morning.

Alexia takes off her coat, draping it over the back of the sofa. You smile to yourself, choosing to not be conflicted by how comfortable she is here. She knows you well. You like to tidy on your own, and you will set aside her coat somewhere else later. She gives you the freedom – the break in your kiss – to tell her to redress. To get out.

She waits a second more when it does not come.

You undo the top button of her shirt while she stands, paused in your new apartment, breathing in the lingering smell of fresh paint. There are scuff marks on the skirting boards, and she is reminded that it has been eight months. That you have had time to create another life here. It seems as though you, now onto the second button, still manage to mould yourself around her, however.

“Ale,” you murmur, tracing your pinkie finger across the exposed skin of her chest. “It’s okay. I…”

And she heavily relates to your failure to get the words out.

Instead of bearing the silence that should follow, she ignores the alarm bell in her head that warns her not to break her heart all over again, and leans in to kiss you once more, lips soft and familiar and addictive.

Your body feels electric against hers as she kisses you harder and harder. Your mind, for once, is at peace. The first time it has been since you moved here.

You take her to your bedroom, kissing your way down her neck as she lifts your hoodie over your head, muscular arms well-versed in this action. There have been others, you’ve heard.

Topless, you sit on your bed, crumpling the fresh sheets. “I heard that you’ve been out and about with some other girl,” you say, catching your breath. She stands in front of you, looking down, eyes fixed on yours despite the cleavage on display being such a tempting exhibit.

There is guilt here with the two of you, now. She wants to make you feel like you are the only person in the world, but she knows you won’t believe her.

“What you heard is true,” she replies, reluctant to admit it. “But I… I can’t stop thinking about you.”

You scoff, lying back anyway. She kneels over you, a leg either side of your waist. “I’ve been there too. A few times.” The pang of jealousy that strikes her low in her stomach spurs her on as she reconnects her lips with yours.

You watch as concentration takes over her, letting her touch you, kiss you, caress you. You haven’t even told her to slow down. If anything, you wish she’d speed up and just get to it already, remembering just how good she makes you feel.

She explores your body like she knows it but wants to learn it all over again, kissing the scars and the freckles and the tattoos that litter your body, all equally important features of the woman that sends her soaring above the clouds. You keen under her touch, whining as your patience depletes.

“Please,” you breathe. Alexia slides down your body, her lips skimming the hollow of your throat. You gasp as she kisses the valley between your breasts, the slight tickle of her hands ghosting your ribs making you feel a thousand things at once.

It all crashes into one as she kisses you over your underwear. Your hand laces through her hair, tousling it. You prefer that over how her stylist does it, anyway.

Her lips brush the waistband of the black fabric, hooking her fingers underneath the elastic, giggling at the way you raise your hips in anticipation. Instead, she chooses to swipe through your folds, circling your clit as you protest half-heartedly. You grip the bedsheets as her fingers dip inside of you, tucking and curling. “Good?” Your back arches as at the welcome invasion. You silently beg for her to leave you more breathless than you already are. She somehow hears your thoughts and inches your underwear down, slotting herself between your thighs, lying on her stomach.

Warm lips caress your inner thigh, teasingly making you ask her for more through your involuntary moans. Alexia’s hot breath ghosts over your clit. “Joder,” you swear. You crane your head up to watch at the first bold swipe of Alexia’s tongue against you. Her lips are hotter than her breath as she kisses you, open-mouthed and needily. Her tongue glides through your wetness, stopping at your entrance. Another urgent moan spills from your lips as her tongue slips inside of you, her hands cupping your bum, bringing you closer to her.

You squeeze your eyes shut, death-gripping whatever you can hold onto, as her tongue makes its way up to your clit. The disappointing emptiness is not felt for long; tongue quickly replaced by two skilled fingers. You groan as she curls inside of you.

Your orgasm builds, months overdue. You grind into her.

She pulls away.

Your eyes flicker open at the loss of contact. “What?” you pant.

She kneels up and brings her hand to her mouth, her soft lips enveloping her glistening fingers. Her eyes stare up at yours, intense and lustful, her lips turning upwards in a devilish smile. It is the sexiest thing you have ever seen.

Her hair hangs down as she leans over you, shirt still just as done-up as it was when you had last been focused on things other than how good it feels to have Alexia between your legs. The pause, hot and breathy, enables her to pull the white material off, lacy bralette barely covering anything.

You undo the clasp at the back expertly, throwing the bralette somewhere that will prolong her nakedness in your bed. You groan, a common sound now, at the sight of her, hands cupping her breasts as she grows bashful.

When her thigh connects with your centre, she loses her shyness. She can feel how wet you are, and, really, she feels sorry for you.

Once more, she slips her fingers inside you, adding another this time. Your back curves upwards, your muscles trembling. Alexia’s free hand rests on your navel, holding you down as her tongue swirls around your clit.

She sends you reeling; catapulting you head-first into a land of bliss.

When you have both showered — much, much later — you let her distance herself from you in your bed. She’s a stranger now, you tell yourself.

Alexia leaves London the next day, with no plea to take you home with her.

You spend another evening in front of the TV, deciding that yesterday was only a blip in your routine. But, you know, deep down, that she will be back. Or vice versa. You’ll never go out of style.

#woso x reader #woso #barca femeni #alexia putellas x reader #woso smut

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hl-obsessed · 6 months ago

Text

my first fic rec ever! faves from the faves: ✨ and fics i would die for: 💎✨

Have I forgotten how to love; remind me once again by Harrystylesisgod24

(M, 108k) After a serious accident, Harry suffers from a case of retrograde amnesia where he hasn't only forgotten the fact that he is a part of the world-famous band, One Direction, but his fiancé, Louis Tomlinson, as well. Despite being immensely grateful for Harry being alive, Niall, Liam, Zayn, and especially Louis, struggle with accepting that Harry might never remember the many things they experienced together; hell, even their friendship is forgotten. And Louis can't quite push away the crippling fear of Harry not remembering that he loves Louis with all he got. Not that any of that is going to stop Louis from reminding him over and over again.

There You Are by lovelarry10

(E, 82k) Harry’s entire life has fallen apart - in one night, his carefully planned future is suddenly uncertain.

Then he meets Louis.

where the tide takes you, i will follow by @pinkcords

(E, 54k) There’s no way around his departure, their inevitable fate. Harry will leave and he will return to London and when he sits in his new flat, wherever it might be, he will think of this summer and the warmth the sun brought him and the way it felt to be loved. He will compare all his future relationships to Louis and when they fall short, he will be disappointed. Harry knows this.

Or, Louis lives in Gloucester and Harry tries to find a way to stay.

waiting for the tides to meet by @nauticalleeds

(E, 60k) Louis lets out a deep breath, thinking about Harry’s soulmate. Thinking about how Harry’s soulmate is probably as beautiful as Harry, some person that Louis cannot compare to, and how the universe has chosen them to be Harry’s. Fuck the universe. “Fuck you,” he calls out to the universe. He’s aware of how crazy he sounds.

Maybe he is crazy, with how he’s falling for Harry. And fuck that, too.

Soulmate AU. Everyone is born with heterochromia — one eye is their own eye colour, while the other is the colour of their soulmate's. It's only when they meet their soulmate for the first time that their own eyes match properly.

The Devil and the Deep Blue Sea by @kingsofeverything

(E, 109k) Louis’ life is steady and calm, moored by his marriage, and tied to his hometown, but after a chance encounter with another man, it’ll never be the same.

somewhere in between lightning by @nauticalleeds, @shiningdistraction, jassy117

(E, 99k) A summer gone wrong (or very right) when, under Liam’s persuasion, Louis finds himself drunkenly applying for Love Island, and getting accepted. Oh, well. A summer spent on an island paradise couldn’t be all that bad, right?

Escapade by @haydolce

(M, 146k) In the grand scheme of things, finding a date for a wedding should be no problem for Louis Tomlinson. He's rich. He's handsome. He's reasonably well behaved. But when the wedding is for his lifelong best friend (and former boyfriend), and is happening in under a month, finding a date for the ceremony and accompanying festivities becomes more of an adventure than he ever could have planned for.

💎✨ Take My Breath Away by @realitybetterthanfiction

(E, 154k) Top Gun AU

love is a word, you gave it a name by @larrydoinglaundry

(E, 158k) After two decades in brutal show business, Louis Tomlinson is trying to restore his tranquility of mind in the peace of Northern Europe where the sun barely sets, Maria's bar is always open, and young Harry has an irresistible spark in his eyes.

✨ Shadow Dances by @itsmotivatingcara

(M, 101k) Louis Tomlinson has a begrudging gift, he’s able to communicate with the spirits of the dead. FBI Medium AU

Tired Tired Sea by @mediawhorefics

(M, 113k) As a B&B owner on the most remote of all the British Isles, Louis Tomlinson is used to spending the coldest half of the year in complete isolation, with his dog and the sea as sole companions. Until, one day, a mysterious stranger on a quest to rebuild himself rents a room for the winter.

For the Right Reasons by @juliusschmidt

(E, 106k) Bachelor AU

Late Night Talking by @kingsofeverything

(E, 53k) Louis Tomlinson has a new album coming out and a second world tour on the horizon. Promo season gets underway with a stop at Late Night Talking, the late night show hosted by Harry Styles, and Harry Styles just happens to be the man who blew a chance to date Louis a decade ago.

technicolor by @creamcoffeelou

(E, 81k) When the small town of Twin Lakes begins experiencing a string of serial murders, a team of detectives is called in to help. Louis is the head of the team and meets a hard-headed psychic who everyone else seems to believe is the one who will solve the case.

Louis isn't so sure.

The slow-burn, hate-to-love, crime au where Harry is a psychic, Louis is a detective, and the world is against them.

This Wicked Game by @cherrystreet

(E, 70k) An AU in which The Bachelor is gay, Louis is a contestant, Harry is the bachelor, everyone drinks a lot of champagne, the entire world gets to watch them fall in love, and no one plays by the rules

Like Water Over Fire (Like Water On Fire) by @mcssymon

(M, 119k) Prince Harry has 46 men and 13 weeks to find the husband of his dreams, Louis has a limited amount to time to live out a royal fantasy. They might just be exactly what the other needs.

Say Something by @kingsofeverything

(E, 105k) At fifty years old and recently divorced, Omega Harry Styles isn't interested in dating. When his doctor suggests a heat and rut matching service, he signs up out of necessity. It’s the only use he has for an Alpha in his life.

Twenty-eight-year-old Alpha Louis Tomlinson aims to change that.

Let Our Hearts Collide by @crinkle-eyed-boo

(M, 77k) When Harry, a lonely transit worker, saves the life of the handsome commuter he's been secretly pining for, an innocent mistake results in Liam Payne's family believing that Harry is engaged to their son. In the Paynes, Harry finds the big family he's always longed for...and a love he never saw coming.

A While You Were Sleeping AU

💎✨ Love After the End of the World by @mercurial-madhouse

(E, 162k) “Wait. Just so I’m clear in me fucking noggin,” Niall says. “An international worldwide takeover is well under way and the only thing standing between having hot showers and a second end of the world is us five fuckers?”

***

Society shattered when all electricity suddenly cut off across the globe, plunging the world into darkness. Now, Prometheus Industries is the sole remaining supply of power, a saving grace to those who survived Lights Out. As fugitives in no-man’s land struggling to break into Prometheus HQ, death lurks around every corner for Louis and Zayn. Things get complicated when a routine recon falls apart and Louis collides with Harry and his mates Niall and Liam, survivors with their own agenda.

When staying alive is already a constant battle, the deadliest weakness is to be in love. For Harry and Louis, finding each other sits on top of the endless list of What Else Could Go Wrong.

(story sadly has been delated form ao3. link to download here)

✨ Stranger Stars by shaylea

(E, 212k) Five years ago, Africa offered a grieving Louis Tomlinson an escape from an England he couldn't tolerate. Now it's become home as he leads overland tours across the continent with his best friend and driver Zayn Malik. What's meant to be just another ordinary six-week trip from Cape Town to Nairobi turns into anything but, when future lawyer/current photographer and songwriter Harry Styles and his friends join Louis' latest set of passengers.

Gemma's Dad (Could Use A Guy Like Me) by @lululawrence

(NR, 83k) The summer before Louis and Gemma's senior year of college was supposed to be their last big hurrah before they graduate college and become Real Adults in the workforce. They had it all planned and it was going to be filled with mornings skateboarding, afternoons at the pool, and evenings hanging out with as many of the neighborhood kids they grew up with as they can.

Of course, Louis wasn't planning on getting home and learning that Gemma's dad had gotten the house in the divorce and was dealing with things by focusing on work, the house, and his newly planted garden. It becomes obvious early on that Harry is a bit lost and Gemma is worried about him. To help both of them, Louis is more than happy to help Harry find himself again.

As the summer goes on, the adventures and day to day happenings allow Harry and Louis to spend a lot more time together than either of them ever anticipated and Louis finds it more difficult to keep his growing feelings in check than he ever thought it would be. After all, there wasn't a chance that Harry would ever be interested in Louis... right?

red hands by @dystopianharry

(TNU, 133k) "I’ve never told anyone," Harry murmurs, voice so soft no one else would be able to hear, if it wasn’t just the two of them.

“But you’ve told someone,” Louis says firmly. “And that’s not gonna fucking happen around here. You don’t speak a word of it, or someone’s going to kill you, and we can’t let that happen.”

a dystopian au in which harry, an ex-soldier who’s escaped from his government run camp, accidentally stumbles across the biggest rebel movement in the country, and louis, one of the rebellion’s mysterious leaders who appears to hate him, seems to simultaneously have an obsession with keeping him alive. or: harry is wanted for treason, niall hasn’t changed in four years, liam is always smiling, and louis is angry. like, really angry.

another dream but always you by @nobodymoves

(M, 66k) Harry is a Dreamwalker; he has the ability to visit people in their dreams and help put them on the right path. He's assigned to Louis, who's struggling after the break-up of his band. It's an unusual assignment from the beginning; Harry has a crush on Louis, and Louis's subconscious immediately decides Harry is the love of his life. When Dreamers cast Harry as their love interest, he can usually redirect them, but Louis is insistent on being Harry's boyfriend, and despite knowing they have no future, Harry wants to keep up the charade.

Shake Me Down by @agreatperhaps12

(NR, 208k) Harry's new to college, fresh out of Catholic school and conversion therapy camp, and Louis runs the campus LGBTQIA organization.

Nameless Night by green_feelings

(E, 155k) For their 18th birthday, every person receives a letter that reads a simple date. That is the date you'll meet your soulmate.

Harry and Louis have different beliefs, live in different worlds and have different dreams, hopes and fears. Yet, they're not so different from each other when it comes to love. When their paths cross, there is no doubt they belong together. Except for that one, essential difference: they didn't receive the same date.

Or, a fic about differences that make no difference at all: Harry and Louis are soulmates. In every way possible. Featuring Niall as a role model, and Liam and Zayn as a different kind of role models.

Light, Spark and Fire (series) by green_feelings

(M, 239k) Or, Harry’s working on taking Louis’ walls down, until he builds his own up.

Jump Before We Fall by green_feelings

(E, 114k) Louis and Zayn's lives revolve around running a hotel by the sea, Harry is a student who wants a life far from home for just a little while, Niall doesn't know where life leads him and Liam thinks he has already found all purposes in his life.

✨💎 my heart is breathing for this moment in time by usedtothebeach

(E, 160k) When Louis first saw Harry at the 2010 X Factor Auditions, he thought he was watching a peculiarly special stranger. But Harry has known Louis ever since he was five years old.

Because Louis has a rare genetic disorder that causes him to Time Travel to important moments in his past and in his future - and to Harry, always to Harry. When they're put into a band together, it seems like everything Harry has been waiting and wishing for has finally come true. Except for the small fact that Louis doesn't know that Harry is in love with him- that Harry's always been in love with him. Fate, it would seem, is just getting started.

A story about growing up and growing together, and the impossible love that makes it all worthwhile.

✨ you were in my dream by @harruandlou

(E, 59k) Louis woke up after having a sexy dream about his best friend’s boyfriend’s best friend resolved to never think about it again. He hardly knew Harry, so what difference would it make? But when they are thrown together only a few days later, Louis had to admit, his subconscious might have been onto something.

Desperation Was My Sanctuary by @insightfulinsomniac

(E, 102k) As a PhD student and transplant to New York City, Louis is struggling for both money and companionship. His roommate, Zayn, introduces him to a friend who is involved in New York City's sugar bowl. Reluctantly, he signs up for a sugaring app knowing he’s probably the least conventional sugar baby on the market. If he can find a sugar daddy who will pay his bills without asking him to sacrifice his own preferences and boundaries, he might just be willing to earn a bit of extra cash by faking a relationship with a millionaire.

At the age of 35, Harry’s spent his entire adult life devoted to his career as a fashion designer. With his label, Eroda, steady and flourishing, he finally has time to settle down. When he reflects on his adult life, he realizes that he’s never been in a relationship and therefore feels behind. Shy and insecure in his inexperience, he turns to a sugaring app to manufacture a “test relationship” on his terms.

Turns out, they’re both looking for something unconventional.

A smutty, non-traditional strangers-to-lovers story about finding yourself, friendship, safety, sexual discovery, and an unexpected collision with tender, profound love.

Of Mates and Men by bananaheathen

(E, 630k) In which, Louis and Harry meet as best men for their best friends' wedding... well... sort of.

Or, the one where Harry's just moved back from New York and Louis doesn't believe in romance.

Or, I guess... the one where Zayn and Liam are getting married.

✨ Next to your Heartbeat (where I should be) by jaded25

(M, 130k) "We were meant to be but a twist of fate made it so we had to walk away"

All it takes for them to fall in love is one night. All they have to do is wait one year to see each other again.

Yet, when Louis returns after his year abroad, the boy who's got his arms wrapped around Harry isn't him. It isn't a stranger either, which should make walking away all that easier. After all, friend's don't lust after their mate's boyfriends.

Technically, doing the right thing should be easy - but when has Louis ever been known to taking the easy way out?

✨ For As Long As I Can Remember (It's Been December) by green_feelings

(E, 128k) After recovering from a severe accident that causes Harry to lose his memory of three years, he moves to London to start his life over as a star chef. Little does he know that when he falls in love with Louis at first sight, it’s not the first time they meet.

Featuring an unintentional game of hot and cold, Harry chasing memories that won’t come back, Louis burying himself in work to try and forget what he can’t forget, Liam being torn between two of his best friends, Zayn as a moral compass and Niall saving the day with good music and brutal honesty.

✨🌸🌸🌸✨

part 2 (30-50k)

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