#London is so big and yet also so small

[rowanhoney]

One of the bands from the other night were genuinely really good like they were really quite cool and definitely super talented. But their whole vibes is like. Tiktok witches or smth

[supernovasilence]

Ok we all talk about the Pevensies' trauma at returning to Earth at the end of The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe and their trouble readjusting to life there again but think of all the funny/good parts too

They return from the country, and their mom is surprised when all her children hug her at the station. Even Peter, who thinks he's all grown up. Even Edmund, who went away surly and withdrawn. She doesn't know her children haven't seen her in over a decade.

They miss their dear Cair Paravel, but they absolutely do not miss its chamber pots. Indoor plumbing is amazing.

It takes a while to remember how modern technology works, though. How many heart attacks did the siblings give their parents or the professor because they walked into a dark room only to turn on the light and find the children sitting there in the dark. (They were by the window! There was still plenty of light from the sunset! They would have gotten a candle in a minute!) The kids sheepishly remember oh yeah electricity is a thing.

(Edmund has a new electric torch in Prince Caspian. He was so excited to get that torch. Almost more excited than you'd think a kid his age would be, and his parents expect Peter at least to tease him, but the siblings all agree light in your hand at the touch of a switch is terrific.)

Suddenly getting really high grades in some subjects and terrible in others. Their grammar, reading comprehension, spelling, vocab, even penmanship? Amazing. History and geography? They don't remember anything. One time in class Susan forgets Earth is round and wants to die.

Also they can never remember what the date is supposed to be because Narnia uses different months and years. They can estimate time really well by looking at the sun though, and Edmund at least can always tell which way is north etc without thinking about it (again, using the sun)

Okay but how many times did they go to pick something up or reach something and realize they are so much shorter and less muscled than they expect? It's a common sight to see Peter climbing on counters to reach a top cabinet, grumbling about how he's High King this is demeaning. (No he never takes the extra five seconds to grab a stool. He will climb that shelf.)

Peter and Susan being delighted because they are no longer almost thirty. (In a few years Edmund and Lucy will tease them about being old and their parents will not understand.)

Lucy doesn't have to deal with periods anymore for a few years yet. Susan might not either. Heck yeah

Lucy loves to climb into her siblings' laps and be cuddled. In Narnia she eventually she grew too big, but now she is small and snuggleable again. Peter is her favorite, and if she's upset, he'll tickle her and tell bad jokes until she's smiling again, but really she loves cuddling with all her family. She grew up without her parents; how many times did she just want to crawl into her mom's lap and her mom was a world away? Imagine the first time she realizes she can now. Or, imagine one day, a cold and grey sort of day, when the rain is pattering against the windows, and it sounds like the rain on the windows of the Professor's house, that first day they went exploring. It sounds like the day they played hide and seek. It sounds so like the rain on the windows of Cair Paravel, that if Lucy closes her eyes she can imagine she's back there, having tea and chatting with Mr. Tumnus before the fireplace of her room, and soon the rain will stop, and they will go out on the balcony and wave to the naiads and the dryads and the mermaids, who have come out to enjoy the rain and visit one other on the banks of the Great River winding past Cair Paravel down to the sea.

But if Lucy looks out the window, all she'll see is the rain over London, so it's not only a cold and grey sort of day, it's a lonely sort of day too.

Susan and Edmund are playing chess in the living room (and they must have studied with Professor Kirke, thinks their mother, because they certainly weren't that good when they left). Lucy goes over to Edmund, and oh dear, thinks their mother, now he's going to call her a baby and be horrible to her, but instead he picks her up and puts her on his lap without even taking his eyes off the chessboard; it's simply a matter of course.

"Doesn't the rain sound familiar?" says Lucy in a solemn, wistful way.

Their mother doesn't know what that means, but her siblings must, because Susan says, "Yes, Lu, it does,” and Edmund gives her a little hug with his free arm as she tucks herself under his chin to watch the chess match.

(Five minutes later there is a crash from the next room as Peter falls off a counter. Their mother does not understand the words he must have picked up from the Professor, but he's grounded for them anyway. His siblings have no respect for their High King, because they refuse to stop laughing.)

[lilsmv1]

orange cat - OP81

Pairing: Oscar Piastri x reader

Summary: What happens your neighbour's adorable orange cat starts to pay you daily visits?

Word count: 1k

London welcomed me with its perpetually gray skies and damp weather, a stark contrast to the sunny shores of California I had left behind. As I settled into my new apartment, I couldn't help but feel a pang of homesickness for the warmth of home.

For the first few weeks, I hardly saw my neighbours, lost in the shuffle of unpacking and adjusting to my new surroundings. But one persistent visitor soon made himself known – a vibrant orange cat that would perch itself on my windowsill, peering into my living room with curious eyes.

At first, I found it amusing, but as the days went by and the cat became a regular fixture, I grew concerned. Surely, someone must be missing their furry friend. So, I decided to take matters into my own hands.

I scribbled a quick note on a yellow post-it, explaining the situation and tucking it under my neighbor's door. "Your cat seems to be visiting me often," I wrote. "Just wanted to let you know in case you're worried."

Days passed, and I received no response. I wondered if my neighbor had even seen the note or if they simply didn't care about their wandering pet.

But then, one evening, there was a soft knock on my door.

Opening the door, I found myself face to face with a handsome young man, his expression sheepish yet friendly. He held a small box in his hands, the smell of freshly baked pastries wafting from within.

"Hey, sorry to bother you," he began, his accent unmistakably Australian. "I'm Oscar, your neighbor from next door. I just wanted to apologize for my cat bothering you. And, well, to say thank you for looking out for him."

I couldn't help but smile at his genuine demeanor. "No problem at all, your cat is lovely, I was simply worried you might wonder where he was" I replied, accepting the box of pastries. "I'm glad to finally meet you, Oscar" I replied, introducing myself as well.

"Do you maybe wanna come in? I can make us some tea or coffee and we could eat the pastries you brought?" I added.

"I would love that!" replied Oscar with a warm smile.

From that moment on, Oscar and I struck up an unexpected friendship. We bonded over our shared love for his cat and baked goods, finding comfort in each other in the big city of London, so far from our respective homes. Oscar told me all about his work as a Formula One driver, and I could not help but be in awe of how passionate he was. I, on the other end, told him about the teaching opportunity that got me to move here, and I would often tell him cute stories from my classroom.

As weeks turned into months, our friendship deepened. Oscar proved to be not only a generous neighbor but also a reliable friend. Whether it was helping me fix a leaky faucet or lending a hand with heavy groceries, he was always there when I needed him.

Our weekly movie nights, whenever Oscar wasn't out of the country, became a cherished tradition, a welcome break from our everyday lives. We'd take turns picking films, debating over classics and hidden gems late into the night.

But amidst the laughter and camaraderie, I couldn't ignore the growing feeling in my chest whenever I saw Oscar. He was kind, funny, and undeniably attractive – qualities that drew me in despite my best efforts to keep my distance.

One day, as I scrolled through Twitter during a lazy afternoon, I stumbled upon something that caught me off guard. Pictures of Oscar, smiling brightly alongside a beautiful girl with long blonde hair.

A pang of jealousy shot through me, surprising in its intensity. I realised then, with startling clarity, that my feelings for Oscar ran deeper than I had initially thought. But it was too late – I was now pretty sure he was already taken, and I had no right to interfere.

Unable to shake off my newfound jealousy, I began to distance myself from Oscar, avoiding our usual interactions and retreating into solitude. But my sudden coldness did not go unnoticed.

One evening, there was a sharp knock on my door, and when I opened it, there stood Oscar, his expression a mixture of frustration and concern.

"What's going on with you?" he demanded, his voice tinged with hurt. "You've been acting strange lately, and I want to know why."

"I'm not" I replied defensively.

"Come on, don't give me that bullshit" replied a rather angry Oscar. "You've been avoiding me. Have I done something?" he asked, his voice laced with vulnerability.

I hesitated, the weight of my emotions heavy in the air between us. But then, with a surge of courage, I found myself blurting out the truth.

"I... I think I'm in love with you, Oscar," I confessed, my voice barely above a whisper. "And seeing you with someone else... it hurts more than I thought it would."

For a moment, there was silence, the tension palpable. But then, to my surprise, Oscar stepped forward, his eyes burning with intensity.

"God, you can be so dense sometimes" he breathed

"Hum, excuse me?" I replied, clearly offended.

"The girl you're talking about, that's my new PR manager."

"Oh..."

"I thought I was being fairly obvious as to how I feel about you." he said softly, reaching out to cup my face in his hands.

And with that, he closed the distance between us, his lips meeting mine in a heated and passionate kiss, leaving me breathless.

[russo-woso]

Baby? || Leah Williamson x reader

Part of the mini Williamson universe.

warning pregnancy, morning sickness, IVF, talk of miscarriage, lots of fluff

Summary You and Leah try for another baby

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

After discussing trying for another baby, you and Leah decided it was the perfect time.

Amelia was 20 months, Leah was yet to make her comeback so she could be with you during the early stages of your pregnancy, Alessia, your best friend, was now living in London due to her move to Arsenal, there was no reason not to start trying.

Keeping it a secret from everyone, you and Leah visited your fertility clinic that you used when conceiving Amelia and your IVF journey started.

Of course, with Leah's comeback happening in the next two to three months, it was quickly chosen that you'd carry again.

The egg transfer happened pretty quickly after the first appointment, purely due to the fact that you'd gone through the process once before.

You and Leah were ecstatic about the possibility of having another baby within the next year but the process also came with it's downfalls.

Constant worry of something going wrong or the IVF not working.

The hormones making you change moods every few minutes.

The nausea that you felt almost every single minutes of the day.

When you woke up in the early hours of a December morning, you felt so nauseous, not the normal kind though, not the one that you felt everyday.

This kind felt 10x worse.

You jumped out of bed, leaving a fast asleep Leah, and threw up just as you got to the toilet.

“Fuck.” You whispered, wiping your mouth and leaning back against the wall.

You hesitantly reached to grab the stash of pregnancy tests that you'd bought for this exact moment.

Should you take the test with Leah? And see her saddened if it came back positive?

That's not what you wanted, but you would love to have Leah with you when you found out if you're having another baby.

As you debated what to do, you took the test, setting it face down on the counter.

After thinking for several minutes, you came up with a solution that you thought would be best.

You'd turn the test over by yourself and then surprise Leah later if you were pregnant.

You could come up with a cute announcement for Leah.

Taking a deep breath in, you flipped it over, reading one singular life changing word.

Pregnant

You and Leah were having another baby.

You felt dizzy all of a sudden, overwhelmed with emotions.

You sat down on the toilet with the test in your hands, reading the word over and over again as tears escaped your eyes.

As you were about to head back to bed, a small 'mama' was heard over the baby monitor and you made your way into Amelia's nursery, gently picking her up and cradling her on your chest, her head resting in the crook of your neck.

"You going to be a big sister, Ami?" You whispered as her eyes started to close. "Baby in mama's tummy."

"Baby." Ami repeated, laughing at the newly understood word.

Amelia's favourite thing to do at the moment was to repeat words.

"Yeah, you’re going to be a big sister. No tell mummy though." You said, bringing your finger up to your mouth, which Amelia repeated.

Ami giggled just as Leah walked into the room.

"What are my girls laughing about?" Leah asked, her morning voice hoarse and croaky as she enveloped the both of you in a hug, planting a kiss on both your foreheads.

"Mine and Ami's secret." You replied and Ami put her finger up to her mouth, proud of herself for the new action she just learnt.

"Are you okay, love? You seem a bit pale." Leah questioned, pressing the back of her hand to your forehead.

"Probably just side effects. You know what the process does to me." You joked and laughed lightly.

"Hm. Want pancakes for breakfast?" Leah asked, resting a hand on your back before taking Ami from you.

"Pancakes sound good." You replied, following Leah and Ami downstairs.

———————

You and Alessia had made a plan to meet at a small cafe for a coffee date.

Alessia missed Ami, even though she saw her three days ago, but apparently that was too long.

And anyway, you loved coffee dates with Alessia so who were you to say no.

After saying goodbye to Leah, who was going to go do the food shopping, you buckled Ami in the car, before driving into town.

Arriving at the cafe, you held ami’s hand as she walked inside, Alessia immediately picking her up and enveloping her in a hug.

“Lessi.” Ami giggled whilst Alessia tickled her.

“Hi Y/N/N.” Alessia greeted you, hugging you too.

“Hi, less. How was training? Le seemed to be in a good mood when I saw her. Obviously they weren’t too strict on you today.” You questioned, making conversation with the blonde.

“They weren’t. How have you two been? Been on any adventures recently?” Alessia asked, taking a sip of her coffee.

“Lessi, you do realise we only saw you three days ago. Not much has happened in them three days.” You pointed out, reaching down to grab one of Amelia’s toys that had fallen on the floor.

“Me big sister.” Amelia babbled and your eyes widened at what she said, Alessia’s doing the exact same.

“You’re gonna be a big sister?” Alessia asked Ami, looking t you as she said it.

“Mama say baby.” Ami continued to babble and you buried your face in your hands.

“I’m pregnant. I found out this morning.” You admitted to Alessia, shrugging and smiling as this was definitely not the way how you were planning to announce it.

“Oh my god, Y/N, that’s incredible.” Alessia jumped up to hug you, before picking Amelia up and spinning her around. “You’re going to have a baby brother or sister.” Alessia celebrated with Ami as you watched the special moment.

“I haven’t even told Leah yet. I’m gonna surprise her later. I stupidly told Amelia this morning but with her repeating stuff because like a chatterbox, just like her mummy, I should have known it was bound to get revealed.” You explained, resting Ami on your lap.

“How far along are you?”

“We don’t know for definite, but I’d say about five weeks.” You told her and Alessia smiled emotionally at you. “Why you crying, lessi?”

“I’m just happy for you.” Less shrugged, tears falling down her face.

You brought her in for another hug, Ami joining the hug too.

“Remember, no tell mummy.” You reminded Ami as you pulled away from the hug.

“We’ve got lots of shopping to do.” Alessia smiled, thinking of all the baby clothes you’d have to buy.

“I know, god, my poor bank account.”

———————

Whilst in town, you bought what you needed to surprise Leah.

You bought a baby grow, having it personalised with baby Williamson 2024 on it.

You’d present it with the positive pregnancy test in a small box.

Leah had extended her shopping trip, having to go to four different shops to get the specific ice cream you wanted, so you had the time to set it up.

When you heard the keys in the door, your heart skipped a beat.

Emotions swirled through your head.

Nervousness.

Excitement.

Worry.

Leah entered the kitchen first, dropping all the bags off on the counter before walking through to you.

“Hi, love.” She pressed a kiss to you before moving to pick up Amelia who was playing with her toys. “Hi baby girl, I missed you today.”

“She missed you too. So did I.” You told her, walking through to the kitchen to start packing the food away.

“You go sit down. I’ll do this.” Leah said, her hand resting on your ass, gently squeezing it before ushering you out the kitchen.

Five minutes passed as you anxiously watched Amelia playing with her toys, imagining another little girl or boy playing with her.

As you heard Leah’s footsteps get louder, you thought you’d get it done quickly.

“I’ve got something for you.” You told Leah quickly, as she approached at the door, her hands behind her back.

“I’ve got something for you too.” Leah announced.

“You go first.” You said to her and she brought a bouquet of flowers out from behind her back.

“They’re gorgeous. Thank you, baby.” You pressed your lips on hers before grabbing the box from beside you, handing it cautiously to her.

“For me?” Leah asked and you nodded, an excited smile taking over her face.

As Leah undid the ribbon, you watched her face like a hawk.

She unclipped the box and opened it, her face lighting up as she saw the contents in it.

“You’re pregnant? We’re gonna have another baby?” Leah jumped up, picking you up and spinning you in her arms.

“We’re gonna have another baby, Le.” You confirmed, before she put you down, pressing her lips on yours.

“I love you so much.” Leah said, her thumbs rubbing over your stomach.

“Me big sister.” Ami repeated her new phrase, Leah picking her up and kissing all over her face.

“How does she know?” Leah asked you and you sighed, knowing it was a long story.

“You know our secret from earlier? This was the big secret. I was sick this morning and then I took the test before Ami woke up so I ended up telling her, thinking she couldn’t repeat it, but you have he eyes chatter box gene and now she’s blurting it out everywhere. In front of Alessia too.” You explained, a proud smile on Amelia’s face.

“So Alessia knows?” Leah questioned and you nodded. “Good because you know how bad I am at secrets. I would have probably ended up telling her at training tomorrow. God, I can’t believe it. We’re having another baby.”

“Two mini Williamsons.”

“Me big sister.” Amelia said again for what must have been the fifth time that day.

“Amelia is gonna be a big sister!” Leah cheered, holding her up in the air, Ami laughing.

“Me big sister!”

[artinvain]

KINKTOBER DAY 18 - DEGREDATION!!!!!

cw: mean sevika, degredation, dumbification, spit as lube, squirting, strap use, smacking, clit smacking, sev calls reader a bitch (during sex) once.

no minors, men, agleess or blank blogs allowed!!!!!!!!

she knows she should be kinder, she shouldn’t let you walk away with your pretty big eyes watery and your head hanging low. but she can’t help it - the more time she spends around you the harder it is to contain herself. she's so pent up around you, muscles aching from holding her hands back - trying not to grab at your plush hips and press up against you. sevika spends most of her day with her suit pants feeling too tight whenever you walk into her office, her hips twitching and cunt aching for you.

and you are soft and kind and so beautiful. you smiled at everyone in the office even if you were visibly having a bad day. all sevika really wanted to do have spoil you - not have you work at all, she wanted to have you rolling around in her bed with her all day. she wanted to wake up on sundays and have lazy morning sex and then make you pancakes. but when you do walk into her office, talk to her, bump into her or answer her calls, all she can do is bark angrily down the line because she knows if she gives in - she will never let you go. and sure she could treat you right - but she was also clingy, obsessive and jealous and she wanted you to want her and only her.

sevika is sick with the obsession. all she wants is to tear your clothes from you and feel how soft and wet you must be between your thick, soft thighs. it’s all she can think about watching you walk around the board room table, giving all her colleagues and employees documents for the meeting.

your silk skirt falls over your hips and flares out on your ass and god when you bend over the table beside her she can’t help the way her eyes pop out to look you over, she leans back in her chair so your tits are almost in her face when you stand up straight again.

sevika’s eyes follow you around the room and back to the desk where you’re sitting to take minutes. her grey eyes hard as stone when you give her a small smile and she clears her throat to gather attention and start the meeting. her words clear and decisive and sometimes cruel when she wants to make a point and yet all the time her mind is focused on the way your hands might feel in her hair while she buries her face in your cunt.

it’s late when sevika finally finishes up and she’s surprised to find you in her office gathering files in your arms, the back of you so tempting, sevika wants to press up close behind you and grind her hips into your ass -

“what are you still doing here?” sevika barks and you jump, the files falling to the floor and god, you didn’t need this - you’d been bent over your laptop the whole day effectively running silco’s desk while his assistant was out sick. you had also been taking calls from the london head office for sevika at all hours of the night, and she didn’t even notice.

you look over the files littered on the floor and sigh, tears pricking your eyes.

“I was here picking up your slack,” you bite back and you wipe your cheeks and turn to your boss. your eyes don’t travel past her chin, you try to take deep.

“excuse me?”

“I have been up the entire week at odd hours of the night with every fucking hq under S&S in europe. I've been running silco's desk because apparently jayce is useless and I never expected you to thank me but jesus-“

you brain short circuits when you feel sevika’s warm, calloused hand grabbing hold of yours. you didn’t realise she had gotten so close. her body is nearly pressed against yours - separated only by her fingers tilting your chin up, so she can look at you. god you’re pretty - “you’re right I need to thank you properly,”

sevika smirks when you gulp and of course you were attracted to sevika she’s built like a god. you tentatively touch her arm and ribs, "touch me," sevika demands and moans when your hands finally press into her skin. you never expected her to look at you like this. but god were you glad she was. all the anger and fear and tension between the two of you finally settled into the deep seated lust that had always been there.

you meet sevika half way as she swoops down to kiss you, sevika groans at the taste of you and you’re up on her desk so quickly you’re dizzy. she shuffles between your thighs as you open your legs and "god," you sigh, your head falling back as sevika kisses at your neck - her hips starting to grind into yours.

"fuck, been waiting for this - you're always fucking teasing me," sev moans, her fingers trailing up between your thighs

"those slacks that hug your ass - always have your fucking tits in my face," sevika says pressing her digits into your panties and rubbing your clit. "you know you're mine now, right?' she whimpers, when your hips buck against her fingers.

"please touch me, please i need to feel you," you whine, pulling your own panties to the side. sevika groans, kneeling between your thighs and she pants at the sight of your cunt, lips glistening with your wetness. she pulls your lips apart gently with her thumbs and licks firmly between them. "needy fucking slut, god. if only i knew - i would've done this so long ago" she mumbles, her eyes rolling back in her head as she tastes you.

you hand goes into sevika's hair, your acrylic nails scratching through her scalp and tugging her hair as she circles you clit with her tongue, humming gently into you. sevika sucks on her fingers and wets them with her spit, before sinking them inside you.

"ah, you're so fucking soft baby," sev moans high pitched when her fingers feel that soft textured spot inside you and you moan loudly, "such a fucking tease," sev whispers, "been making me wait so long to touch this pretty pussy,"

"please, please," you whine, your legs opening wide for her as she sucks on your clit. "look at you, you're so fucking desperate," sevika mocks you, "stupid bitch, all you can do is fucking beg for it, s'okay baby m'gonna give it to you,"

sevika starts to thrust her fingers into you. "you're fucking mine, you hear me?" sevika says, her tongue licking and sucking slopping at your pussy. slow and messy just to savour the taste.

"you don't need to do any work, you're my silly little slut-" she groans, sucking your clit into her mouth and then starts to rub it with her thumb as her fingers fuck into you.

"s'pretty much all you're good for - being my personal fuck toy," she chuckles when you tighten around her "aw, you'd like that wouldn't you? you're kind of shitty at your job anyway sweetpea - but you're really fucking good at spreading your legs." she groans

"m'gonna cum," you gasp, your hands tighten on the edge of her desk. "cum for me baby, come on sweet girl," she moans, standing as her thumb rubs your clit, her other hand coming to grip your chin, "tell me you're mine," she whispers and when you don't reply - or rather you can't because sevika's fingers are curling and fucking hard into you - she smacks your cheek. you gasp in shock and pleasure at the stineg,

"tell me," she says again, but your mouth hangs open, your head dizzy and she smacks you again, you finally cum, "i'm your," you yell, legs shaking and tightening around her hand.

sevika stands and puts you panties back in place. "you're not shit at your job," she says, kissing your forehead and gathering you into her arms, "i know that," you chuckle, kissing her neck, "but thanks for the reassurance,"

"i did mean it though - about you being mine," she says and she's surprised you don't stiffen in her arms, really you relax into her, let her hold you tight and kiss your forehead. "you're coming home with me," she whispers into your hair and helps you stand. she pulls you away from the papers on the floor and guides you to the elevator.

"we can clean that up tomorrow," she says and hands a heavy arm around you, so that you're leaning into her. "oh we're doing teamwork now huh?"

sevika chuckles and rolls her eyes, "yeah, considering you're my future wife," you laugh aloud at that as sevika closes her car door behind you and climbs into the driver's seat. "future wife? you don't think that's a bit fast, sevika, what if you wake up in a week and hate me?"

"not likely," she responds and starts the car to take you home.

‧͙⁺˚･༓☾　　☽༓･˚⁺‧͙

when you're at home sevika wastes no time, kissing you again and leading you to the bedroom. "finally get to feel this needy cunt around my cock," she whispers, peeling your clothes from you and kissing every piece of exposed skin she finds.

sevika sinks her fingers inside your still sensitive hole, moaning as she works you open with another finger. "god, opening up for me so easy, you're so fuckin easy," she whines, her other fingers coming to rub on your clit after she spits on it.

"taking it like such a good girl, fuck," she moans, "my good fucking slut," you cum around sevika's fingers and she starts to smack your clit as you cum, her fingers never stop fucking into you, "want you to cum all over my face baby," she's switching between rubbing and short smacks to your clit, until you're yelling her name.

"that's it, come on be stupid and so fuckin easy for me and just cum sweetpea," you whine and you back arches as you squirt, your mind rushing with pleasure, "such a good girl for me, baby yeah, doing what you're good for," she mumbles, licking and suckling at your clit, swallowing your cum as she feels your cunt tightening sporadically around her. sevika kisses your inner things and then gets up.

"need to fuck you," she groans, she can feel herself so close to falling over the edge. sevika wastes no time in getting up and pulling off her clothes to fix her strap to herself.

when she comes back to the bed, you're still catching your breath and she doesn't give you any time to relax more before she's sinking her fat cock into you and your eyes cross at the stretch, your mouth falling open.

"god, you needed this as much as i did, you feel how easy my cock slipped in?" she groans, pressing your thighs up against you and bucking her hips into you. "you're just a little cock slut aren't you? getting all stupid on me,"

her dick reaching so deep inside it's all you can say - "please daddy, so deep, s'good -" you mumble drunkenly and sevika chuckles,

"god, gonna fill you up. make sure you stay feeling stuffed full of my cock," she groans, "fuck m'gonna cum, gonna cum inside you," sevika huffs, her clit throbbing and the strap rubbing it so perfectly.

"please cum inside me daddy - need it," you grunt, gripping her arms, tears springing to your eyes as you cum with every snap of her hips, sevika cums, watching your watch as you do, begging for her cum.

sevika falls over you panting and surrounds you, her weight like a comfort as she kisses your face. "mine," she smiles, nipping and marking your throat.

"we're taking a day off tomorrow," she yawns, "wanna stay in bed and fuck you all day,"

you chuckle and start to trace her back with your nails, "can't it be like a week," you bit your lip as sevika peaks up at you from your chest,

"that needy huh?" she asks, her hips slowly starting to buck into you again, her cock slipping in and out with your wetness as your nails scratch down her back. "please," you whine softly and sevika grunts. "god fuck," sevika grips your hair and pulls your head back to kiss and bite on your neck, her other hand coming to play with your nipples.

"come on baby, i know you wanna cum," she chuckles, getting up on her knees and wrapping a hand gently around your throat, her hips snapping lazily in your sensitive cunt.

"yea, yea that's it baby, cum for me," she says when you start to whine and cry out, your legs shaking. "good girl, my perfect girl," she sighs as you cum again, pulling her down to hold you as she fucks you through your orgasm.

✨🏷️ @archangeldyke-all @sexysapphicshopowner @sevsbaby @iamaboringrattat @lavendersgirl @opropheticsoul @ariariarr @femme-historian (comment to be added to tag list)

[sommerregenjuniluft]

@jegulus-microfic june 20 - response - 2623 words - nsfw content!

about love against all odds feat. injury related prematurely retired football player james that settled and raised a son and international football star regulus

for regulus pencil mustache truther @veryinnovative, my football (players) loving wife @rottin6 and my number 1 enabler @itmeanssungod

James is kneeling behind Harry on a picnic blanket with Lily when their last guests arrive. “There they are!” Sirius’ voice carries easily over the meadow and just as expected a few seconds later there’s a big, black scrub of a panting dog in front of them, curious to see what Harry and James are up to, which is flying a kite. 

“Oh my God– Hi!” Lily says, getting up. Which is a bit enthusiastic for the fact that they’ve seen Sirius and Remus only last weekend and should have been James’ first clue. Though, admittedly, he was a bit busy angling the kite and also angling Harry’s face away from Padfoot’s butt to avoid suffocation.

“Moony couldn’t make it today unfortunately,” Sirius says, closer now, “but I’ve brought substitution.”

James isn’t proud of the way his entire upper body whips around, Harry included, who lets out a small yelp at the sudden motion. “Sorry, mate. Sorry. I’m—”

Lily is already there to take over, nudging James to get up who’s working very hard on closing his jaw and not staring like an idiot.

Because standing there besides his brother is Regulus. Hands shoved into the pockets of his slacks, paired with a simple back t-shirt and green Adidas trainers. He does not look like he belongs onto a colourful picnic blanket in a park in London yet there he is.

He’s sporting a pencil stach now. Regulus had been convinced Sirius had already used up all the genetic material for pronounced body hair on the first way around, leaving behind very little for his younger brother. James, being on the hairier side as well, used to tease him about it endlessly back when they were in school. But it seemed to develop now in his late twenties. James has only seen it on the TV in a few matches and on one or two instagram posts but the real deal is even worse. Regulus looks criminally hot with it. The whole picture of lithe muscle, strong quads and stronger calves, curly hair, the occasional tattoo. He’s every young heterosexual woman’s wet european football boyfriend dream and James’ gut is swooping.

“Reg.”

“Hi, James,” Regulus responds, much more articulated, sporting a hint of a smirk. 

Oh, he— “Bastard,” James mutters, low enough so Harry behind him won’t hear and then he’s grinning and yanking Regulus into a firm hug.

They all have a late lunch together at a nearby restaurant and Regulus is patiently letting Harry talk his ears off about Ninjago and preschool and Ron and Moine. Lily is taking him over the weekend and James bids his goodbye with a loud smooch to his son’s cheek. 

And just as James is about to invent a crazy, elaborate story about how he has something back at his house he’d meant to show Regulus for ages without making it interesting enough for Sirius to tag along, this one simply taps two fingers against his eyebrow in a mock salute before making his way in the other direction, Padfoot trotting along dutifully. “Why do you think I hid him from you all Thursday? Have fun, kids!”

Regulus groans pathetically and turns to hide his face into James’ shoulder.

“I told you we can’t keep it a secret from him forever. He probably knew all along,” James chuckles and takes Regulus’ duffel, “C’mon, love.”

It starts in the elevator up, is a wonder they make it past the hallway and into the bedroom. It’s very much overdue and heated and desperate all the way through. 

James might or might not have pinned Regulus one too many times into the mattress and offhandedly commented something along the line’s of Regulus being his and cuffing him to the bed if he needs to. And it’d worked because Regulus had moaned so prettily, eyelids fluttering and hips bucking, cock twitching and all James could think about then was where’s the fucking lube.

Saying that, he doesn’t quite expect Regulus to bring it up after the fact.

James is absolutely blissed out, breathing only just levelling out as he traces the shape of Regulus’ kiss bitten lips.

“You know I can’t stay, Jamie.”

He shrugs easily, kneading Regulus’ muscled thigh where it’s slung over his hip, “We’ll come with you then.”

“To Portugal?” Regulus’ eyebrows rise as he props himself on his elbow, his tone flat. “And then to France in a couple of months when I switch clubs? I don’t think that’s such a good idea given Harry is five.”

“Au contraire—”

Regulus rolls his eyes and slaps him on the naked shoulder. “Moving every few years? And during the nationals not to mention,” he tucks an errant strand of hair back from James’ forehead, “Multiple continents, who knows which timezone. That’s no life for a child, James. And I haven’t even brought up Lily yet. She’s just as much part of his life as you are and it works out wonderfully for the time being with you two living so close. It’s what Harry deserves.”

And deep down James knows Regulus is right. And if he’s completely honest with himself, it isn’t the life he truly wants for himself either. That’s why he’s here and Regulus is out there. James knows it isn’t what’s best for Harry nor for himself and yet. And yet no matter how many times they have this conversation it seems endlessly irrelevant when Regulus is looking down at him this way. The shine of the sunset through the window is catching in his pillow mussed curls, in the dark lashes framing his blue silver eyes and rivalling the flush of his skin with its own red hue and James thinks Regulus looks like home. Like anything he could still want in life besides what precious he already has.

James heaves a heavy sigh and hungrily swerves his eyes over every single of Regulus’ features, committing them to memory. Because that’s all that’s gonna stay when Regulus inevitably leaves again. But that’s not what James wants to think about right now though.

“Regulus.”

“Yes?”

“Shut up,” James replies happily and pulls Regulus in by the back of his nape before his indignant expression can even fully form. Every single one of Regulus’ helpless sounds get swallowed eagerly and filed away for later. For a moment James is tempted to ask Regulus if he can get out his phone and record but he thinks better of it.

They have sex for hours. 

James sucks all coherency out of Regulus through his cock and then fucks him so stupid, legs spread and pushed into the mattress, spit pooling out of the corner of his mouth, tears wetting his cheeks, cum smearing across his stomach, that he gets him to promise to stay. It’s futile and just a heat of the moment thing but it drives James so wild he almost blacks out when he eventually spills deep inside of him. There’s black dots and stars dancing in his vision when he watches it leak back out of Regulus’ puffy hole and a strange sense of satisfaction and dread mixing in his belly. 

After a quick entangled and still very much nude power nap James arranges them a platter of fruit and crackers and cheeses. They shower and James changes the sheets only for Regulus to prop himself up on his side and watch intently as he edges James until he’s the one whining and crying. He’s using ridiculous amounts of lube, his hand is so warm and slick and squeezing just right and his thumb is swiping teasingly along the slit exactly how it makes James go insane and then he’s taking his hand away and James curses, already feeling another tear running down his cheek. His thighs are trembling, his knuckles turning white where he’s clinging to the headboard. Regulus is staring at him out of lidded, expectant eyes and James’ dick is aching and it’s all so sick and hot James has to bite his tongue hard not to tell Regulus he loves him right then and there. 

He’s shown mercy, at last. Regulus makes him cum down his throat and over his face, there’s milky white running down the side of Regulus nose and James pulls him in with shaky arms for a downright nasty kiss.

They sleep until 2pm the next day and have a lovely, slow day bickering in the grocery store isles, preparing dinner together and not at all watching the movie that’s on the TV while they make out and frot on the couch like teenagers. Like back when they were teenagers. 

Sunday morning Lily brings Harry before she’s heading out to brunch with her FLINTA boxing club and James’ heart riots in his chest when he watches how easily and adorably Regulus and Harry interact. 

They meet up with Sirius and then drive Regulus to the airport together.

Goodbye is a bumpy thing. Harry is pure popcorn caramel sweetness between Regulus’ knees when he crouches down to hug him and James’ embrace, he knows, is much longer than socially acceptable. He vaguely notices Sirius distracting Harry, babbling to him about the stuffed toy assortment from a nearby shop as Regulus and James hold onto each other like they’re in a long distance relationship and not…well, whatever it is they can afford to be with Regulus visiting the country about three to five times a year.

There’s a fist clenched in the soft material of his t-shirt and James buries his nose in the curls of Regulus’ temple and inhales deeply. A spot he’s going to see sweat soaked on a flat screen and not getting to smell or touch or kiss for the unforeseeable future. At least that’s what he thinks for now.

Eventually they part and after a strong, swaying hug from Sirius and a few words about making him proud out on the field and seeing that physiotherapist about his shoulder and a safe flight Regulus is gradually disappearing into the distance with the grating velocity of your standard airport escalator. James doesn’t know who thought it was a good idea to be able to watch a loved one slip through your fingers at this agonising tempo but he’d like to have a word with them. His heart clenches in his chest, his lip already feels raw from worrying it with his teeth and James thinks, the warm weight of his son pressed to his chest, that, even though it might not seem that way, Harry is probably more holding him right now than the other way around.

And life’s a funny thing sometimes. 

Because, like every time when Regulus bids his goodbye, leaving behind not exactly shards but rather yet another pin in James’ heart, wrapped around by a red string Regulus indisputably, invariably takes along across the ocean every time, it bleeds and burns and burns so badly that they get ice cream. Sirius slaps him between the shoulder blades, pays for his chocolate mint and hazelnut, tells him he’s such a dad for his choice and, together with Harry, tries distracting him as best as he can manage. 

And so begins a week of moping and then one and a half of delusion and overcompensation, full of fun trips and adventures, and then another few of avoidance, full of social media free zones and grinding through work and scheduling all kinds of appointments to fill their freetime until—

Until one day he can’t avoid it anymore.

A bright, blinking LED sign in the form of an incoming call on his phone screen that’s making James’ heart stutter in his chest. He’s just sat back down in front of his computer in his home study after lunch break and started wiggling an USB stick into a port when the vibrations had made his head shoot up.

It’s just the three letters of Reg and a silly photo of when he was seventeen, pulling a face at James taking a picture of him on his digital camera.

Regulus never calls.

James isn’t sure he’s breathing.

It’s barely been about two months, not close to visiting time again, and Regulus usually never calls so James sits there absolutely dumbstruck and convinced the universe is pulling a sick joke on him.

The call ends abruptly and James blinks harshly. He fumbles for his phone and clicks into his call history. Incoming call from Reg in red font, signalising it’s been missed, followed by the exact time of the day it is at the moment. 

James presses on the little phone icon.

It only rings once before there’s a voice on the other side of the line.

“James?” Regulus sounds slightly breathless. James hasn’t heard his voice over the line in about seven years.

“Yeah?” James says back. His heart is pounding in his chest, his blood rushing in his ears. Then James realises he should probably say something more. “Err, Hi. I’m—” he sighs, clicks his tongue, clears his throat, tries again. “Did you just call me?” “Hi,” Regulus says back, still breathless and it sort of sounds like he’s smiling. James blinks again. “Yeah, yeah. I did call.”

“Oh,” James makes. His heart does a little spin in his chest. “Uh, what’s up?”

“I’m coming to England,” Regulus declares, giggling. James’ heart tries to leap out of his chest at the sound.

“Cool, cool. You got another away game?” He winces, closes his eyes, “Sorry, I haven’t been keeping up with your matches lately.”

“No, James, I’m– wait. Okay, rude, first of all—”

James snorts and rolls his eyes, now grinning against the phone as well. “Sue a guy for being heartbroken.”

“Yeah, I just might,” Regulus quips. “But…what I was initially going to say is, No, James, I’m not having an away game in England.”

“No?” James asks, confused. Nationals are still a while away so that can’t be it.

“No. I’m having a home game in England,” and James wonders how something so soft spoken can pack such an ear-ringing gutpunch.

“I’m— Regulus, what,” James stands up, his chair loudly scraping against the hardwood floor. “Are you saying…”

A single chuckle works its way out of Regulus and over the line to James, “Yeah, that’s what I’m saying.”

James’ heart is sprinting away from him. He’s sweating. His breath is coming faster and he feels like he should run a lap around the property. Or six. “Regs, love, please spell it out for me because I’m not entirely sure I just hallucinated what you—”

“Arsenal made me an offer,” Regulus says and James hears angels singing in the background, “A better one.”

“Oh, fucking Christ,” James pinches the bridge of his nose, pushing his glasses up onto his forehead, “Reg, I swear to God if you’re joking right now I’m personally flying over and—”

An exasperated noise, grin evident in his voice nonetheless, “I’m being honest, James, God’s sake. You can fucking look it up online, they probably already posted about it.”

A breath punches out of James, he sinks back down into his desk chair. There’s a polaroid of him and Regulus from Halloween a few years back, alien and a scientist. It was a fucking mess scrubbing all that green paint off again and it didn’t help that Regulus abandoned his sponge in favor of grabbing at James’ hardness through his briefs. It had been the first night they kissed since they were teenagers. 

With a sudden clarity, all the tension floods out of James’ body with a slightly delirious laugh and he leans his cheek into the warmed glass of his phone screen, “You’re coming home.”

Regulus sounds equally giddy, equally drunk on love and fate. “Yeah, Jamie, I’m coming home.”

[sneakyparsnipslicer]

The Cosplayer

For a few years now Glen had been going to an unofficial event for a game he loved. It all began around 2021, he'd seen his friend Kieran talking about it on Twitter; a gathering of fans of the game in a town he'd be able to get to. The first time he'd gone to the event, he was able to meet many other fans of the game, recognising some content creators he'd interacted with before online. In the midst of them all, there was one guy that stuck out to him; a cosplayer dressed up as one of the main protagonists.

Glen had seen a fair few cosplayers at places like Comic Con, but this guy was good. Very handsome. From what Glen could gather from others was he was a professional cosplayer that went to many official events hosted by the company that made the games they all enjoyed. Glen knew then and there that he'd have no chance getting to know the guy, but all the same he could admire him from afar.

The next two years were the same, Glen went to the event, so did Mr. 'Geno-Morphus' as his username online had him called. It was clear Geno had a band of friends he'd always hang out with at the events, some of which were shared with the people Glen had come to befriend over the years, though Glen never got the chance to meet Geno, they could never seem to be in the same place at the same time. Each year Glen would see him co-hosting a cosplay panel with another professional cosplayer. Glen had thought they were together until Kieran told him that Geno was actually gay, but also married. Glen had never felt his hopes rise and fall so fast, but he accepted the fact.

In late 2023 a small group of the event goers organised a little meetup in a town a little further away, and Glen was asked by Kieran if he'd like to go. Hanging out with the people at the events had fast become a highlight of each year and so he jumped at the chance. They'd all be meeting up early 2024, granted it wouldn't be as big as the main event, but it would be nice to see the friends all the same.

The journey took a while and Glen had just journeyed up following a night shift, so after a little nap at the hotel he'd booked a room at, he went down to the bar to meet up with Kieran, who waved to him. "Kieran! So good to see you!" cried Glen sweeping his friend into a hug. "Hey mate, good to see you too! Did you get a good rest?" Kieran asked, reclaiming his seat. Glen grabbed a seat next to him. "Oh yeah, NEVER travelling 3 hours after an 8 hour night shift again! Had to stop at Costa and get a shot of Espresso" Glen shuddered. Kieran chuckled, taking a sip of his whiskey. "Ah right, be right back, just gonna get a drink!" said Glen quickly, he headed to the bar and soon returned to the table with a pint of whiskey also. They both said "Cheers!" and clinked their glasses.

"So, is anyone else here yet?" Glen asked. "Well Caitlin says she'll be along in a few hours, Jack's here but he's taking a rest, he has come up from London of course" started Kieran. "Of course, I don't blame him" said Glen, Kieran nodded in agreement. "Fred and Kim are on their way with little Sammy, but their train's been held up" said Kieran. "Oh no, that sucks. Really hope Sammy won't kick up a fuss. Remember that time in 2022 when he had to be taken out the room?" asked Glen laughing. Kieran smiled, chuckling. "Yeah I think they want to forget about that, so don't bring it up!" said Kieran. Glen took a sip of his whiskey and gave him a thumb up. They both sat and talked a while, updating eachother and how life's been since the previous event, Kieran was surprised to learn that Glen had been invited to a Halloween party by Jack that had been hosted by another couple they knew based in London. As the night went on more people did arrive, drinks were had and to Glen's surprise, who should show up but Geno-Morphus. It seems he didn't live too far away and had actually decided to come along earlier in the week. Glen didn't quite know what to say. It wasn't like he didn't know who Geno was, but he wasn't exactly acquainted with him. Geno went to get a drink and came back, sitting next to Glen.

"How're you doing mate?" Geno asked Glen, smiling at him. "Oh you know, just happy to be here, happy to see everyone" Glen smiled. "We haven't spoken before have we? I know I've seen you at the events but I think I've been a bit to busy with the event organisers" said Geno, looking Glen up and down. "Yeah, I totally get that. Must be tough to get a moment to yourself at times like that" Glen replied. "Oh mate, you know it! So what's your name?" Geno asked. "Oh, I'm Glen, love your work!" Glen chuckled. "Cheers man, I really appreciate it. My name's Wesley in case you didn't know" said Wesley, offering his hand to shake, at which Glen accepted it. Glen and Wesley chatted a lot about their jobs, Glen joking about the actual shit he has to clean up at the cinema, Wesley talking about his cosplaying schedule. Eventually the group carried chatting til past midnight when the last call bell was rung. Some of the people took their drinks back to their rooms, Glen found himself walking with Wesley to Caitlin's room, she'd had way too much to drink and so they made sure she got back to her room and into bed safe. Glen left a glass of water on the side table for her and they both left. "Guess it's just us now Glen, fancy hanging at mine for a bit?" Wesley asked. "Sure, sounds good!" said Glen. They both headed to Wesley's room which was a floor above Caitlin's. Getting in, Glen saw that Wesley had brought his laptop, which was still on.

"Ah, thought I'd closed it. Oh well, wanna hear the playlist I'm putting together for my birthday party?" Wesley asked. Glen nodded. He pressed play and 'A Little Piece of Heaven' by Avenged Sevenfold started playing, Glen started laughing. "Oh man, no way! I haven't heard this song since 2012!" cried Glen, they both had fun singing the main chorus. "God you are so down to Earth Glen! How have we not spoken sooner?" asked Wesley, laying down on his bed looking at him. Glen shrugged. "I guess I always thought you were on another level. I mean we have guys that stream the games, podcasters, people making custom levels and I come along like 'Hey, I clean toilets at a cinema!'" said Glen. Wesley laughed. "I like you Glen, you're a good laugh" smiled Wesley. Just then, 'The Best' by Tina Turner came on. "Oh Tina Turner, you have great taste Wes!" said Glen, closing his eyes and swaying to the music. "Yeah, love Tina. Got to see her and Bryan Adams perform 'It's Only Love' back in 1985, God that was a good night" said Wesley looking at the ceiling. "1985?! Fuck man I wasn't even born!" Glen laughed. Wesley nodded sadly. "Yeah, this birthday coming up I'll be 47" said Wesley. Glen's jaw dropped. "No way are you 46!" said Glen in disbelief. Wesley shrugged. "It is what it is" he said. "But you're fine as fuck!" said Glen, clapping a hand over his mouth, realising what he'd just said. Wesley looked at him and laughed. "You really think so?" he asked, smiling. "Well if we're being honest, yeah. Your husband's a lucky guy, whoever he is" said Glen. Glen fell silent for a moment. "Maybe I should be getting back to my room now, sorry Wesley" said Glen, standing up and moving to the door. Wesley stood up and put a hand on Glen's shoulder. "It's ok, it's sweet of you to be honest, you've been so open tonight and I really appreciate that" said Wesley, standing before him, smiling.

Glen's mind was racing, he'd long had a crush on Wesley, he just never imagined he'd ever be in a room alone with him. Wesley moved in and kissed Glen gently on the lips. Glen didn't resist at first, but he pulled away and shook his head. "Sorry Wes, this isn't right, you're married" Glen began, Wesley put a hand gently on Glen's cheek. "Hey it's alright! We have a bit of an open relationship. Polyamorous, you know. He'll always come first of course" Wesley explained. "Well, unless you cum first, right?" Glen chuckled, then hid his face in his palm. Wesley cackled at the joke, pulling Glen's hand away and kissing him again. Glen could feel his dick harden, he'd wanted Wesley for such a long time now and this was it. This was where he got to know Wesley intimately. Wesley pulled back and smiled, taking his jacket off. Glen began to unbutton his shirt and Wesley pulled his t-shirt off. They both looked at eachother shirtless, next moment they were in eachother's arms, making out, hands on eachother's backs, Glen running a hand through Wesley's hair and Wesley slipping a hand below Glen's jeans to feel his ass. They both pulled away, panting. "You've been wanting this a while, haven't you?" asked Wesley, grinning. "Oh if you could only know!" said Glen breathily, rubbing his hands over Wesley's well-defined pecs. Wesley wrapped his arms around Glen and thrust him onto the bed, sitting atop him, beginning to unbuckle his own belt. Glen watched in anticipation as Wesley threw his belt away and began to pull down his trousers and boxers, revealing his girthy dick. "Am I living up to the dream?" asked Wesley. "I'll say! Fucking hell!" said Glen, reaching out to grab the shaft, beginning to pump it. Wesley threw his head back and began to moan, Glen sat up and began to suck his dick. Wesley looked back at Glen and smiled, pushing him back down on the bed. He stood up and kicked off his trousers and boxers. "Here" he said, laying back down on Glen, grinding his crotch into him whilst kissing him on the neck.

Glen cried out in orgasmic ecstasy as he wrapped his arms around Wesley's back. "I want you inside me!" Glen said, and Wesley stopped, they both stared eye to eye for a moment. "Well now I have your permission…" Wesley said sinisterly and proceeded to force Glen down stronger than before, grinding his crotch into Glen furiously, the sound of squeaking, squelching rubber filling the room and Glen moaned out. To his surprise, Wesley was beginning to sink into his own body, Glen put his hands on Wesley's ass, helping force him in. Glen had never felt more aroused and his sense of feeling was beginning to diminish, this absolute stud of a man was fucking his way in and it was amazing. He didn't know this was even possible, but somehow, he felt he'd needed it.

Under Glen's skin, Wesley was shifting himself, moving his arms and legs to fit correctly, lining up his face with Glen's. He unbuckled Glen's belt and pulled down his jeans and briefs, grabbing Glen's expanding dick and choking it, ensuring his own dick was stretching nicely into Glen's, using both hands he jacked off working up a sweat until finally he let out two, thick squirts of cum, laying back on the bed, panting. Glen's body was now in Wesley's control. He leaped off the bed and ran his hands down his slippery body. He walked over to the mirror and looked at himself. There was no trace of his old face at all, he was effectively Glen with a bit more musculature than before. "Well I've had fursuits and morphsuits, but you Glen, you've got to be my first bodysuit!" Wesley said out loud in Glen's voice. Hearing Glen's voice escape his mouth only made him smile, this was perfect. Wesley had grown bored of continual convention cosplay, it paid good, but required him to be available, never really leaving time for himself. Glen was to be Wesley's final cosplay, he'd announce Geno-Morphus's retirement on the socials later, and who knows, maybe his husband will enjoy Glen too!

[monzamash]

uncool — lando norris

lando norris x you no warnings part of the golden retriever lando/black cat reader universe (need a better name for this little series lol) requested in october last year – i am so sorry it's been that long! this request has been hiding in my drafts and i rediscovered it today so hopefully you're still here, anon 💋 masterlist

“are you having fun?!”

lando looked like a fish out of water in a sea of black-clad metal heads, holding onto your hand for dear life with his hoodie over his head and a grimace on his worried face. it wasn't rocket science – you that knew lando was only there because you asked him, suffering in the mosh pit of your favourite band because he loved you more than ringing ear drums and a couple of fresh bruises in the morning. it also made him feel closer to you being there, in your little world that you kept close to your passionate yet guarded heart. music was the thing that bonded the two of you in the early days when you thought there was no way a stupidly cute formula one driver (and budding DJ) would have anything in common with little old you.

“it’s… hectic! are you okay?”

maybe there was a really small part of him that was hoping you weren’t okay and he could pull you both out of this waking nightmare but when he looked down into your glassy eyes, smile bigger than the moon, he knew you were in your happy place and god, you looked beautiful – smudged mascara and all.

“i’m great! – oh my god they’re playing saviour!” you screamed and lando mustered up his best fake smile and returned to his role as a pretender in a crowd of die hard fans, all singing in sync with you.

you were a mosh veteran, old hat by now and you could sniff out a poser from a mile away. lando’s stiff body behind you, hands gripping the jacket wrapped around your waist, made you feel a little guilty as the crowd began to jump and he didn’t, or at least he didn’t until he figured out the chord progression and attempted to move in time with the beat. you smiled a little to yourself and intertwined your fingers with his, quickly leaning up and pressing a kiss to his jaw as the pyro exploded above in a loud crescendo.

“that was amazing!” you yelled over the house music. the bright floodlights filled the arena and shone a spotlight on your sweet boyfriend who’s relieved eyes were as big as saucers.

“i don’t know how i survived that – fuck me,” lando exhaled, leaning into you for support as you turned towards the exit and wrapped an arm around his waist.

you couldn’t stop the chuckle slipping from your lips as you watched him limp, “baby, if you didn’t want to mosh you should’ve said something – i wouldn’t have minded standing up the back if it meant you would enjoy it more.”

lando shook his lowly hung head and braved your gaze, “how could I do that when you were having the time of your life? i love seeing you happy and being apart of it but i don't think i'm cut out for that moshing, crowd thing… and i didn’t want you to think i’m uncool.”

his confession surprised you a little, much like the cold london breeze did as you stepped into the brisk night air, hand in hand. but deep down you knew this wasn’t his scene, he was doing it for you and you love him for treading out of his comfort zone for one night so you could be in your element. 

“oh honey, i never thought you were cool to begin with,” you teased, earning an eye roll and a coy smile, “but i love that you would risk your life like that for me – you’re so braaave.”

lando playfully elbowed your ribs and pulled you into his side with an embarrassed groan, making you giggle and wriggle out of his tight grip, “uh uh, you’re not getting away with that! i can be cool!” he doubled down and spun you around – the smile you know and loved returning to his handsome face.

“name one time!” you snorted trying to get your breath back from laughing and failing miserably as you held onto his jacket for balance.

“oh, um i dunno, maybe driving a freakin' race car at 350 kilometres per hour,” lando shrugged humorously and you laughed before placing your cold hands on his chest and surrendering with an adoring smile.

“okay, you are really cool and very sexy driving fast cars, i’ll give you that.”

“thank you,” lando sighed with closed eyes, basking in the small victory before looking down into yours with all the sincerity in the world, “and i would risk my life for you every day of the week – all you have to do is ask.”

"oh, you are sooo getting laid tonight," you whispered, tugging him closer and placing a strong kiss to his shivering lips.

"oh yeah?" lando asked, eyebrows suggestively wiggling.

"oh yeah."

request from anon: "saw this one and immediately thought your writing style, it, and a lando desperate to impress were a match made in heaven: “I didn’t want you to think I’m uncool.” “Oh honey, I never thought you were cool to begin with.” 😘

[totaly-obsessed]

hiii! i love ur work so much!!!! i was wondering if i can request a kcc fic where she gets jealous hehehehehehe

Favorites

Kyra Cooney-Cross x reader request

-> Kyra finds out that she is not the favorite aunt or girlfriend

-> Hope you like it Anon, even though you probably meant a different jealousy haha

➳ Masterlist

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

The national break was always a welcome break from the daily club life, even if the World Cup was not that long ago. You had arrived together with the other Matilda’s that played in England. The plane journey was a long one, but one most of you were accustomed to by now.

Your plan for it? Sleeping. As much as you could. Trainers and mostly everybody you knew tried to tell you that it was bad, but you didn’t really listen – the want to sleep much too big.

Sam, your club teammate sat next to you, anxiously chewing her nails for most of the trip as she was one of the worst fliers you knew. Your captain was always thankful to sit next to you, as you calmed her down with your deep sleep and not a care in the world.

The two seats across from you were occupied by Mary and Kyra who were playing cards, bored out of their minds. Eventually, it was the new Arsenal signing who kicked your feet to wake you. “Huh? Are we there yet?” The two started laughing at your startled face and at how fast you had sat up in your seat. “No, still a while out. You’re playing cards with us.”

It wasn’t a question, Kyra knew that you would just roll your eyes and close them again, desperate for sleep. But she also knew that even you couldn’t resist her puppy eyes, so she batted her lashes at you, knowing that you would cave in.

The two of you had been dating for over a year now. Her joining Arsenal had been the best thing ever – you finally moved in together, which was quite hard with the midfielder playing in Sweden before. Even with the both of you on rival London teams, it was the best thing ever.

When in public Kyra might seem like the excited, touchy one when in private it was you who would simply refuse to let the brunette go, cuddling as close to her as you could. So whipped as you are, you played cards with them and even managed to get Sam to play as well.

“Man, I can’t wait to see Harps again. She grows so quickly.” This has been Kyra’s first time being away for such a long time from the toddler since meeting her. The two-year-old quickly found her way into all the Matilda’s hearts, helping the team relax after a long day, her gleeful giggles sounding through the halls of the facility. “Me neither, maybe she finally decides to be a striker.” Sam was back to consciousness, always happy to talk about the youngest team member – also distracting herself from flying. None of you could help but laugh, knowing that if little Harper decided to be a footballer one day, she would follow in her mother’s footsteps and become a midfielder.

The rest of the journey was long and hard, you were just happy to have Kyra at your side, knowing that you didn’t need to talk, the brunette filling the silence all by herself.

When the group of you arrived at the team hotel it was already late in the day but most of the Tillies that roamed the halls were excited to see each other again after a very successful World Cup. “Auntie Y/N!” A small body made its way through the sea of players, crashing into your open arms as you couched down, ready to hug her. “Harps!” Giggles filled the room as you threw her up in the air and caught her again.

You could feel Katrina’s watchful eyes on you but the short midfielder was never worried when Harper was with you. With Charlie and Kyra? Panic. But once you joined them? Everything was alright. It wasn’t like you were more mature, but the way you carried yourself; serious and careful when needed but you also knew how to have fun – the perfect combination.

“Harper look, Kyra’s here too!” Your girlfriend tried to get the girl's attention but she was much too busy playing with your hair, telling you the story of how her favorite stuffy had found its way to Australia. “Babe, I’ll go make out with Charls, yeah?” When you didn’t even react, the midfielder scoffed offended.

She just got replaced by a two-year-old.

Kyra didn’t know who she envied more. You for being Harper's favorite auntie, or Harper for having all your attention when in the same room.

Once back on the ground, the toddler grabbed your hand, swiftly pulling you out to a field, commanding you to grab a ball. The rest of the Matildas watched in awe as their very stoic teammate turned to mush once the tiny blonde shouted “Again!” signaling you to roll the ball to her so that she could kick it back.

“My girlfriend just got stolen.” The young Arsenal player’s mouth was wide open as Harper took you from her, in broad daylight. Harper kept pulling you out on the field further and further until you couldn’t hear the teasing anymore – not that you paid it any mind.

“Kyra just got replaced!” It was Mackenzie who started joking at their young teammate's expanse. “I still have an open room, should harper take your bed as well!” But it was Caitlin who caused the brunette to whine in defeat.

Katrina knew that you were up to no good when she saw you crouched on the floor, telling Harper something while pointing at the rest of the Matilda’s at the side of the pitch – a devious smile on your face.

Just a few short moments her daughter ran towards them, as fast as she could, arms wide open an excited smile on her face. “Auntie!” Kyra had now crouched down as well, copying your previous action, opening her arms as the small blonde raced directly toward her.

“C’mere Harps!” But Harper had a different plan, throwing herself on the ground as she army-crawled through the midfielder's legs – jumping into Alanna’s strong arms, who stood directly behind Kyra. The crowd erupted in laughter, as you made your way back to them, a sly smirk still on your lips, seeing your girlfriend's very prominent pout as Sam patted her back. “Not the favorite girlfriend, not the favorite aunt – Man, that’s gotta hurt."

[bloodyknucklesforme]

No name (taking suggestions) for this yet but yeah @syoddeye got me into Nikolai so... here's this. It's way longer than I originally planned but here we are. There will be more at some point but my fingers were just itching to write this out rn so unedited as well...

cw: dark fic, dubcon/noncon, reader is being trafficked, human trafficking, cockwarming, body inspection, piv, Nikolai is evil but also kind i guess,

"Clothes off... all of them," A thick Russian accent said from the intercom. You looked up at the camera in the corner. He must of seen you hesitate, "I already paid. Don't waste my money."

It never got easier. It'd been almost a year now. As you dropped your coat to the floor your anger and shame hit the ceiling. You'd trusted your ex, he promised to help you when you lost your job, when you couldn't pay rent, when you needed to borrow money. You moved to London for better opportunities now you were in some stranger's house waiting to be used. You'd lost track of how deep in debt you were to him and his 'friends'. 10k? 20k? It made your stomach clench.

"Don't cry. You'll fuck up your makeup." is what those cunts back at the club would always say before you got in a car to a client's.

Marcus hammered it in that this was a very important client. Probably another criminal. A rich one at that. His house was more of a warehouse with an automatic front door.

"Turn around," he ordered when the last of your clothes hit the floor. Checking for a wire or weapons you guessed. Knowing you were being watched like this made your skin crawl but it was better than being groped immediately on entry.

The front room was more of a safe room with steel walls and thick doors. No windows, just the camera, an intercom panel and a white gift box.

"New clothes in the box. Put them on."

It was a too small lacy bra and matching too small panties. A washed baby blue, all mesh so you were fully exposed. The door inside clicked. You went inside.

It was nice. Expensive but not tacky like other homes you've been too. The kind of furniture you'd seen in interior design magazines and auctions, solid wood things made by designers with names you could never properly pronounce. There were soviet era antiques scattered about as decor. The first floor was open with a kitchen and dining area to the side and the rest of the room being a living area. There were stairs to the side leading up to where you guessed was the bedroom.

"You're prettier than the photo." You jumped at the voice. He was so quiet you didn't notice him on the couch. He was big, obviously tall but muscular with wide shoulders. Dark hair slicked back with a widow's peak. Stubble covered the bottom part of an aged face. He wasn't old, older yes but whatever business he was in had aged him around the eyes.

He snapped his fingers and motioned for you to walk over. He had a cigar in the other hand.

"Good. You follow instructions. More than I can say for the last one Arno sent me." He motioned for you to spin around again, giving your ass a light spank and laughing when you yelped. "You fuck anyone else today?"

"No," you shook your head. He blew cigar smoke at you, watching the silver bisect around your middle.

"Good. I'd hate to waste more time cleaning you out. They never do a good job at that." He put his cigar in the ash tray beside him. "On your knees."

"What's your name?" He asked, making space between his legs for you. You answered softly, a lie. Never give them anything was what another girl told you. He held your chin between two fingers, moving your head around like a doll. "Open your mouth."

He leaned forward, looking inside you. A thumb hooked over your bottom row of teeth. It tasted like tobacco and sweat. You'd learned to hold back gags long ago.

"I don't like girls with rotten teeth." He ran a finger over your teeth, top and bottom, occasionally pressing on one. He frowned, "Stop shaking. I'm not going to hurt you."

A lie, most likely. Men always said that before fucking you, like they could believe you were there willingly, like they didn't pick you out of a catalogue of girls. You clenched your fists in your lap and willed the fear out of your bones.

"I like girls who like you." He pulled his fingers out of your mouth and pushed your jaw shut. "I paid to have you all night. Make it worth it."

He leaned back, grabbing a remote and turning on the tv. A hockey game roared on the tv.

"Is there...uh...anything you want me to call you?"

He looked down at you, like he already forgot you were there.

"Sir, when you answer my questions. Kolya, when I fuck you." He undid his belt and spread his legs wider. You knew your job. He picked up his cigar again as you undid the zipper on his pants.

He laid a hand on the back of your head, pressing down your hair.

"Just keep me warm for now. Don't want to miss anything."

You took a deep breath before taking him into your mouth. He was thick and uncut. Intimidating even half hard. He didn't push as you worked your throat open, slowly bobbing your head. Sometimes men would ply you with liquor, help you to relax a bit more. You wish he had. The mix of salts from precum and skin filled your senses. A hesitant hand moved to rest on his thigh for leverage. He didn't shake you off.

"Good job, Kotenok." He rubbed his knuckles across your cheek. He let you rest against his thigh, nose tickled by his dark pubes. Cigar smoke, the drone of the tv and the blood rushing around your head started to calm your nerves. Maybe tonight wouldn't be as awful as you thought.

He thrusted lazily during every commercial break. Everything was in Russian so you couldn't follow the game beyond his angry or excited, more so angry, ad libs.

He finally sighed and turned off the tv. He tapped your cheek softly.

"Kotenok, I need you to make me feel better about my team losing."

He made you walk ahead of him, directing you towards his bedroom. His dark eyes dug into your spine.

His bedroom was dark. Wine colored walls with thick, velvet blackout curtains covering the windows. The bed was large with silk sheets and a down comforter.

You crawled onto the bed, swaying your hips as enticingly as you could manage. A hand wrapped around your ankle and pulled you to the edge of the bed. You yelped as his hips hit your ass, cock bouncing against your cheeks.

"Remember what I told you, Kotenok?" He pulled your panties down, calloused hands scrapping against your thighs. "What to call me?"

"Kolya."

"Good girl." Two fingers felt around your entrance. A shiver ran down your spine. You weren't wet enough, you knew that. You clung to the comforter, waiting for pain.

"I told you to stop shaking. I said I wouldn't hurt you." He rubbed a hand across your ass. He sounded annoyed. You closed your eyes and pressed your face against the silk. It smelled clean and floral.

The snap of plastic and cold fingers prodding at your cunt.

"Shhh...I don't break the things I buy." He didn't admonish you for hiding your face as he scissored you open. "There we go, Kotenok."

He pushed in slowly, groaning loudly as you whimpered and fidgeted. Despite the preparation it was a stretch and burn. He held you down by your hips.

"Good girl," he purred with one last push. The head of his cock bumped against your crevix , causing you to clench in pain. It only spurred him to start thrusting roughly. Your face dragged against the sheets.

"Close your eyes and let it happen. Most of them don't last long anyways," a girl said to you early on. You didn't remember her name.

You forced out moans every time his hips smacked against your ass. Arching your back so he could think he was pleasuring you. There was a modicum of pleasure, chasing it was too much effort, especially with unreceptive partners.

He wrapped an arm around your waist, hand dipping between your thighs. He pinched your clit till you cried out.

"I don't like liars, Kotenok." He rubbed harsh circles till you moaned, shuddering hard. "Cum on my cock or shut up."

His other hand grabbed your shoulder and pulled you up. Your back rested against his chest. Still rubbing your clit, he hooked an arm under yours and rested it between your breasts while holding your chin and forcing you to look upwards. There was a mirror on the ceiling.

"Say my name," He barked.

"Kolya...please...Kolya. I..."

"Want to come on my cock? Beg me for it."

"Kolya please...please Kolya. I want to come. Please. Kolyaaaaa!"

You watched yourself as he forced you up to your peak, clenching around his cock. He laughed harshly and smacked your pussy. He held you up as your legs failed to hold you up any longer. You came hard, grabbing at his arms, manicured nails digging into his muscles.

He growled something in Russian before biting down on your shoulder. He filled you to the hilt, his cock twitching inside your still clenching pussy. His cum was a familiar warm. He let go and you fell face forward against the bed.

"Catch your breath. I still want my money's worth."

You lost count of how many times he fucked you. You were pliant and submissive, following his lead as he bent you into whatever position he wanted. He was more virile than you expected.

You woke up sore, dried cum and bite marks covering your body.

"You shower before you leave. Scrub well." He slapped your ass before shutting the door and locking it from the outside.

It was a large shower but more importantly the water was hot. Not warm but hot. You could have cum just from feeling the jets against your skin. The body wash was luxurious - sweet and woody. You scrubbed well. These kind of men didn't want their DNA wandering all over the place.

There was towel left for you but no clothes and your lingerie from last night was missing as well. He did leave a cup of tea for you on the bedside table.

You kept the towel wrapped around yourself as you walked back downstairs. He was sitting at the dining table, typing on a laptop, cup of tea still steaming and full.

"Come here, Kotenok." He tugged your towel till it fell to the floor. He tapped the inside of your thigh till you spread them. "Don't start shaking again."

You bit your lip. He spread you open with two fingers, tilting his head as he inspected you. You yelped when he forced a dry finger inside you, moving it around and dragging it against your walls.

"Good girl." He pulled his hand and away and got a money clip from his pocket. "I like you. I'll ask for you again."

He handed you five hundred pounds. You stared at Charles in disbelief. You'd been tipped before but never this much.

"Thank you, sir."

"Did I ask you a question?" He didn't look away from his computer.

"No...umm...Thank you, Kolya."

The corner of his mouth twitched into a smile.

"If Arno takes that from you, tell me. That's your money. I paid him enough as is. Now go get dressed. Your car is here." He pointed back towards the front door.

You hurried off. For the first time more scared to leave than to stay.

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Writing Notes: The Human Body

A Quick & Simplified Guide: On Cells & DNA

CELL

The basic unit of life

You are made up of about 30 trillion of them

Don’t all look the same: A red blood cell looks nothing like a spleen cell, which looks nothing like a cell in the skin of your eyelid. That’s because they each have very different jobs.

But they still share some basic parts:

Nucleus - heart of the cell

Golgi apparatus - packages up proteins and labels them so they get to the right place; "the cell's post office"

Mitochondria - the cell's power generators. Like cars, you run on "fuel" too. It's called ATP (adenosine triphosphate). They do almost all the work of turning the energy from your food into ATP. Without the "fuel", the cell would die.

Endoplasmic reticulum - makes proteins that the cell needs in order to keep doing its job

To survive, cells need:

Food - especially sugars, which contain the energy that is turned into ATP

Oxygen - vital for turning the energy in sugars into ATP

Water - needed inside each cell for nutrients to move into and around it

3 Types of Waste (when making ATP from food)

Carbon dioxide - which you breathe out

Ammonia - after a bit of tweaking by your liver, this chemical passes out in your urine

Water - any water that your cell does not need eventually ends up in your blood, and exits your body in urine, feces, sweat, and breath

How "Big" is your Body?

Though your cells are tiny, they can join together to make big structures. In fact, unpacked, your body is enormous:

A pair of lungs, smoothed out, would cover a tennis court.

If you unravelled the airways within your lungs and laid them in a line, they would stretch from London to Moscow.

In the same way, all of the blood vessels (the veins and arteries and smaller blood-bearing tubes) in your body would stretch two and a half times round planet Earth.

DNA is extremely thin. You’d need 20 billion strands of it, laid side by side, to make the width of the thinnest human hair. But you have so much of it, and so many cells, that if you formed all that DNA into a single strand, it would reach 10 billion miles across the solar system, to Pluto and beyond. Think of it: there is enough of you to exit the solar system. You are, in the most literal sense, cosmic.

DNA

The "instruction manual" for making you.

Almost every single cell in your body has two copies of that manual:

The Double Helix

DNA - made up of two strands connected by rungs, making a kind of twisted ladder called a double helix

Stored inside the nucleus of the cell, in packages called chromosomes

Within your DNA are short sections called genes

A gene is a code that tells the cell how to make a particular protein

Most of the useful things in your body are proteins:

Some speed up helpful chemical changes going on inside you. Others are needed to fight harmful invaders. And others make up bits of virtually all your body parts, including your muscles, your bones and your brain cells.

Different DNA

Your DNA is unique to you (assuming you don't have an identical twin)

Yet in all humans, 99.9% of the DNA is the same.

This makes us all nearly identical.

But my DNA and your DNA will still differ in three to four million places.

Given the massive amount of DNA you have, this is quite a small number, but it’s enough to make a lot of difference between us.

Where does DNA come from?

Almost all of your cells contain 23 pairs of chromosomes.

One of each pair came from your biological mother, and one came from your biological father.

Your DNA is, therefore, a mixture of your parents’ DNA.

But you’ll also have about a hundred of your very own personal genetic mutations.

These are stretches of DNA that don’t quite match any of those given to you by either of your parents – they are yours alone.

Some people have an unusual number of chromosomes.

For example, people with Down syndrome have an extra copy of chromosome 21.

DNA is extremely stable:

Probably nothing you own right now – no item of clothing or game or even computer – will still exist a thousand years from now, but your DNA almost certainly will.

Incredibly, scientists recently managed to get genetic information from a human fossil that was 800,000 years old.

Source ⚜ Writing Notes & References

[justrainandcoffee]

“Good Morning” (Tom Hardy x fem!oc)

Part 1 of the series: “Only for tonight”

Summary: It's 2012 when Hannah received a call from an important executive to work with them. She's a great musician only until that moment she didn't have the chance to really show her natural talent. The BBC offered her the opportunity to finally do it and at the same time the opportunity to meet him. || Three years later, everything is very different. Two different realities linked by the same phrase: “good morning.”

Warnings: None. Although there's some angst towards the end. || This is pure fiction. All names are made up except his. Even in future chapters all filmography named here was invented. || The story is divided in past (2012) and present (2015)

Words: 2.7 k. || Remember that English isn't my first language. Please, consider leave a comment or reblog considering this is the first time i post this and still don't know what I'm doing 👉👈🥺.

Three years ago.

Hannah Murphy was born in London a morning in middle of May. His father was architect, her mother owner of a several beauty centres and her eldest brother was a neurosurgeon now working in Boston, United States.

Big things were expected from Hannah. Maybe being a doctor like Eric, her brother, or having a PhD in Economics like one if her cousins because first and foremost, the Murphys were successful people. Her grandfather, Mr. Andrew Murphy, was the one who designed the building for one of the most important corporations that existed nowadays in England. So, considering that everyone had their eyes on her, even as kid. But Hannah W. Murphy wasn't born with numbers and theories in her veins, she was born with music.

"You're wasting your life," her mother said when she was 10 and her father accepted to take her to a conservatory of music to learn to play piano. "Look at Eric, he's reading books that are for advanced students! And you're nothing compared to him, Hannah. Music! What kind of shit is that?"

But Hannah knew, even when she was 10, that music it was going to be her life. And she was right.

"Your daughter has a gift," one of her teachers said not longer after she started to study there.

But Greta Murphy, her mother, insisted on study something that could give her a name in the future and her brother thought the same as her. The only one who supported her was her father, Andrew Murphy jr, who was also the only one who went to her first solo in a theatre when she was 15.

Hannah was 16 when one of her plays, composed by herself, was part of a local play. Small, but it gave her some money and the hopes that her dreams could be possible.

Yet, when she finishes school, to stop hearing her mother for once, she decided to study engineering.  During those years, she didn't stop writing music but she just kept it to herself.

At the age of 23, she finished her career and threw the diploma in front of her Great. Hannah never worked as engineer.

Teaching kids and offering her music to different people who was interested in her talent, she was able to earn enough money to rent her own apartment and lm have her the freedom she was craving for.

Seven years later Hannah Murphy, 30 years old, was about to face the biggest change of her whole life.

She was walking Solomon, her black staffy and the most brainless dog in the whole world, when her phone on her pocket started to vibrate. It was an unknown number but she answered anyway.

"Hannah speaking."

"Ms. Murphy?" A female voice on the other side of the line made her stop walking.

"Yes?"

"Good morning, Miss Murphy I'm calling you in name of Mr. Henry Atwood, he wants to have an appointment with you, miss Murphy."

The first Henry Atwood that crossed her mind was the director and executive producer the BBC had and the brain of one of her favourite tv shows the last years. But the idea of someone calling her and saying that  that Henry Atwood wanted to see her was ridiculous.

"I'm sorry, I don't understand. Who's Henry Atwood? and how did you get my number?"

"Mr. Atwood, the tv producer," by her voice tone, Hannah believed that the girl considered her stupid. "I'm his secretary and I got your number because he asked for it to one of the directors you worked with."

"Scott?"

"Mr. Scott, yes"

If it wasn't because she was in middle of a park, Hannah could've screamed.

Travis Scott was a director working on a play and he asked her to help his team with the music. Finally after several failed meetings she ended up working alone and the final result in Travis's words was "the best fucking thing he ever heard."

That was four months ago but she didn't know that he knew Atwood and even less than he was going to receive a call from him. Or his secretary to be more specific.

"Ms. Murphy?"

"I'm sorry I'm trying to understand what's happening… I- the answer is yes! If he wants, yes of course I can. I just need to know when."

"Great. I'll make an appointment, then."

.

Two days later a very nervous Hannah was waiting for Atwood in the waiting room. It was perfectly tidy, with magazines on the glass table, some flyers prompting the movies and TV shows to come and some from previous months. The tiles shone reflecting the lamps on the ceiling.

Hannah felt stupidly nervous. Most people there arranged things thanks to secretaries or managers but she didn't have any of those. She had a dog without brain cells and she was sure Solomon didn't know how to talk. Although she did know that the staffy was the best to calm her and right now she needed his comfort.

Hannah would remember that day for the rest of her life. It was 20th of June, 11:30 am and it was a  guy talking about the European football league on the radio sounding in the background when he saw him for the first time. He was wearing a white shirt and jeans. He'd have been any other man but he wasn't.

"Good morning," Tom said to her who was sitting in the chair next to the office's door, so still that she wasn't sure that was even blinking.

"Good morning," she managed to say.

Don't be awkward.

Tom smiled before walking towards the elevator "call me, okay?" he said to the other man.

"I will."

Both him and Hannah look at Tom go. "Quite a character," he said. "You are Hannah, right? I'm Henry Atwood."

Hannah was still seeing the corridor where he disappeared from their sight and Atwood couldn't help but chuckle.

"Tom Hardy," she said "It was him?"

"Yeah, it was him. We hired him for future our project. And I have an offer for you, too, But please first, come in."

Hannah called Betty, her best friend, as soon as she left the building like if everything was a dream. All was so surreal that she needed something to drink and to eat to process what just happened. Both women went to a pub, ordered beer and fish and chips.

"The main theme?" Betty asked. "Are you fucking kidding me?"

"No, I'm not!"

"Oh, my god! Your mother is going to freak out and probably pass out. Imagine her telling her friends about this."

"She's going to say that the BBC isn't Hollywood and no one outside England is going to see it. And probably she's going to say that the music is horrible."

"She doesn't know a shit about music."

"But she does know how to destroy people. Believe me, I know."

"Then fuck her. Don't tell her a word, better that way."

"I won't."

"But you already signed the papers?"

"No. I mean I said yes, but I need to make it official. I'm going to read it tonight and then sign them. Fuck me, I can't believe it."

Betty smiled at her Hannah couldn't help but imitate her. That was a good day.

Good morning.

Hannah was very tempted to say to her about her seeing Tom inside the building, but suddenly she felt really silly.  What she was going to say? Do you know I saw Tom Hardy today and he said good morning to me? Besides, it was something so random and something that Hannah believed that wasn't going to happen again that she felt unnecessary to say it.

Next week, Hannah returned to the BBC building with the papers signed and her hopes higher than ever before. Hannah was happy and it was good. Not long ago she ended a relationship that left her with debts, without her motorbike but with Solomon. The only good thing the bastard did was abandoning the dog in her house. Solomon was just an eight-month puppy, playful and sweet, but according to his ex, he was just a waste of money. As if he himself wasn't a waste of money and oxygen.

So these unexpected good news was exactly what she needed. And her first salary was more than welcome.

"There's a meeting this Friday. The whole team," Henry Atwood said. "Including you."

"Including me? But I have nothing to do with the cast."

"That's the point. It's not just the cast. There are always new ideas to add or to erase from the plot, suggestions, new plans. Etc… maybe you can create something even more great if you know what it's this about. Can you come?"

"Yes, I'm free, so… yes!"

"Good then!" Henry offered her a big smile and his hand to shake it "Welcome aboard, Hannah."

Hannah preferred to be one of the firsts to arrive there instead of being there late. It was her first meeting and officially it was also her first day at work. It'd be considered rude to be there late. Not to mention that the idea of people looking at her was something she wasn't used to. Not without her piano as shell, at least.

The meeting office was big and chairs and tables were in a circle so everyone could look at the rest.

Hannah couldn't help but felt nervous. The idea of working for them suddenly hit her in her face with fury.  On her first day at work, she had to leave the office and find an empty place to calm herself. She felt sick and she was hyperventilating. Her mother's voice in her head didn't help at all "You're going to fail, because you're a failure."

"Look at your brother, head of the surgeon committee of Boston."

"Your music is quite mediocre."

"Shut up! Shut up!" she said to herself resting her forehead on the cold window that was in that corridor. The last thing she needed that special day was her mother and her awful vibes with her. "Please, go away."

Hannah closed her eyes and tried to think about good things. Her dog, her best friend, her piano… she imagined herself sitting in front of it and tried to breathe normally again.

"Are you okay?" A male voice brought her again to reality.

Hannah gasped and back off surprised by the unexpected company.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you. I'm sorry," he said.

It took Hannah few seconds to recognise that Tom was in front of her, but when she did it, she rushed to reply. "Yes, yes. I- uhm, I was nervous and I felt anxious. I needed to clean my mind. It happens, from time to time."

"Are you sure?"

Hannah nodded as Tom walked to the water dispenser and offered seconds later a glass of water.

"Thanks," she said smiling briefly.

People tend to see celebrities as deities, not humans. Because of course they're people but also, they're beyond of what could be considered approachable. Not everyone could be near one. And suddenly Hannah was few inches away from a famous actor that seemed to be concerned about her. Like, indeed, any good person in the world could be worried about another. Famous or not.

"I started today," Hannah said "I think my brain felt I couldn't do it."

"It's normal, a new job make everyone feel nervous. You'll be fine. You'll see. What's your name?"

"Hannah Murphy."

"The composer," Tom said. His voice denoted surprised and he smiled at her "Henry talked a lot about you. You're a little celebrity here."

"Oh, please, no! I'm just- I'm not. I Just play the piano."

"It seems to me that more than that. Were you in the meeting?"

"I tried to be there before feeling sick."

"Come on, Hannah. They'll love you, don't worry about it."

Tom smiled at her again and something in his reassuring made her feel better. Together they entered in the meeting room.

___

Now. Three years later.

The apartment was still dark, the windows were closed despite the morning was a reality. She could hear the cars, people… even birds. Everything was the proof that outside those walls nothing changed.

Hannah didn't sleep in the whole night in that bed  that now semeed to be awfully big for her. The empty spot.

She didn't want to cry again, but new tears appeared in her eyes.

Where was her morning kiss on her shoulder? The beard tickling her skin? The "let's stay five more minutes"? His morning coffee, too strong for her taste, but whose smell was synonymous with the beginning of a new day?

It's not like Hannah didn't break up with another person before… but never before everything hurt that way.

Tap tap tap.

Solomon was wagging his tail against the wooden floor because he saw her moving in bed. Against all odds, she smiled briefly. She pat the mattress and the dog didn't waste time to jump and snuggle with her in a single motion. His big head was now on her chest and she caressed it with her hand.

"You're hungry, aren't you?"

The animal looked at her. He didn't know anything about broken hearts, empty beds and tears. But he could feel her sadness. He'd wait for his breakfast until she felt better. Solomon settled closer to her.

It was 10am when she finally decided to go out of bed. The sun was shining, the city was indeed awake long time ago. Looking through the window she'd say that everything was the same. Only it wasn't.

Her phone was full of messages from her family and friends. Especially Betty. But Hananh didn't have the energy to deal with them, especially not her mother that for sure was ready to say that she was nothing but a disgrace, not even smart enough to keep a relationship with the best man she ever found. And for the first time in her life, Hannah hated the feeling that her mother was right.

She sat on her couch with a cappuccino mug in her hands and some toasts on a plate. On a chair on the opposite side of the living room still was one of his T-shirts, one that she stole from his wardrobe and ended its days as her pyjamas. She didn't use it for a while and she didn't want to touch it now, afraid that it'd smell like him.

The memories of the previous night overwhelmed her. It was her fault, she knew. For being too weak. Her mother was right, she wasn't like the rest of them, never was.

The sound of a new message caught her attention. She didn't need to see who it was. That was his ringtone, she personalized it long time ago.

Hannah took her phone and read the message.

[Can we talk? Ily]

Hannah pictured Tom in his house with his own dog next to him. His phone next to his nose because probably his glasses were somewhere where he couldn't find them.

She ruined it.

She received a new message from him.

[Pooh, let's talk]

Hannah broke into new tears when she read her nickname. No one before him ever called her Pooh. And everything started the moment he knew her second name was Winifred. Winnie. Hannah hated the name and she always used just the W, as reference for it. But with Tom, Hannah learnt to love her second name, even before dating. Or maybe it was because it was him.

Hannah called Tom.

He answered before the second ring, for a moment no one talked until he did "Good morning, Pooh."

[officerfriendlysblogs]

Hidden Chords

Harry Styles x Reader

Summary: The story follows a long-time friendship between Harry Styles and the reader, who meet during Harry's One Direction days. As they both rise to fame, their bond remains strong despite busy schedules. Over the years, the reader secretly falls in love with Harry but keeps her feelings hidden, especially when he starts dating someone else.Heartbroken, she channels her emotions into a song, which becomes a hit. Harry later confronts her about the song, revealing that he has loved her all along.After years of missed chances, they finally confess their feelings and start a relationship, proving that their love was worth the wait.

Warnings:⚠️This story features elements of mildangst, minor jealousy, and heartbreak, yet it is also infused with excessively sweet moments, culminating in a joyful conclusion.⚠️

Word count: 1,184

You met Harry Styles when you were just two teenagers chasing dreams. He had his wild curls and charming grin, and you had a notebook filled with half-finished songs. It was 2010, and One Direction was on the rise. You were signed to a small record label, opening for big acts and waiting for your moment.

It was a chance meeting at a shared soundcheck that changed everything. He walked in with his bandmates, a gaggle of exuberant energy, and you were busy trying to fix a broken guitar string.

“Need a hand?” he asked, his green eyes twinkling.

“Do you know how to restring a guitar?” you shot back, skeptical but amused.

“Not a clue,” he said with a laugh, “but I could fetch someone who does.”

You smiled at that. And just like that, Harry Styles became your friend.

The years that followed were a whirlwind. You watched One Direction skyrocket to unimaginable heights while your own career slowly took off. Harry never let fame change him, though. He still texted you terrible jokes, shared Spotify playlists, and called late at night when he needed to vent about the pressures of being in the world’s biggest boyband.

“I don’t know how you handle it,” you told him once, lying on the floor of your London flat, phone pressed to your ear.

“Sometimes I don’t,” he admitted. “But then I think of people like you. Grounded, real. It keeps me sane.”

You rolled your eyes, but your heart fluttered. You told yourself it didn’t mean anything.

When the band announced their hiatus in 2015, Harry confided in you first.

“I think this is it,” he said, voice low and uncertain. “I think we’re done.”

You wanted to comfort him, to say the right thing, but all you managed was, “Are you okay?”

“I will be,” he said after a pause. “I think I’m ready to do my own thing.”

And he did. You watched him transform from boyband heartthrob to a solo artist who commanded the world’s attention. You couldn’t have been prouder, but with every milestone he reached, you felt the distance between you growing.

You stayed close, though. Somehow. Amid tours and albums and award shows, Harry always made time for you. But somewhere along the way, your feelings shifted.

It wasn’t just friendship anymore.

It hit you one night in New York. You were both there for different reasons—he was recording his debut album, and you were promoting your second. He invited you to his studio, where he played you a rough cut of “Sign of the Times.”

The song was beautiful, haunting. And so was he, sitting there with his guitar, eyes closed as he sang.

When he finished, you clapped, a little too enthusiastically to hide the way your heart was racing.

“It’s incredible,” you said.

“Thanks,” he said, looking almost shy. “Means a lot coming from you.”

You wanted to tell him everything in that moment, but fear held you back. He was Harry Styles. Your best friend. What if you ruined it?

Then came Camille.

She was stunning, of course—French, sophisticated, effortlessly cool. You found out through a tabloid, and your heart sank.

When you saw Harry next, you tried to act normal. He brought her to a party you were both attending, introducing her with a proud smile.

“This is Camille,” he said, arm draped around her shoulder.

“Hi,” you said, forcing a smile. “Nice to meet you.”

She was kind, polite, everything you knew Harry deserved. And that made it worse.

The first time you cried over Harry was after that party. You went home, locked yourself in your room, and let the tears fall.

You hated yourself for it. For being jealous. For wanting something you could never have.

So, you did the only thing you knew how to do. You wrote.

The song poured out of you in a way nothing ever had before. It was raw, painful, and honest—a confession you couldn’t give him in words.

The chorus was a plea: “How do I compete with the stars in your sky, when I’m just the shadow in your light?”

When your producer heard it, he insisted it go on your next album. You hesitated, terrified of what Harry would think, but eventually agreed.

The album came out, and the song—aptly titled “Shadow”—became a hit. Fans speculated endlessly about who it was about, but you never confirmed anything.

Harry called you after hearing it.

“‘Shadow,’” he said. “It’s beautiful. Heartbreaking, but beautiful.”

“Thanks,” you said, your voice tight.

“You okay?” he asked, sensing something in your tone.

“Yeah,” you lied.

Months passed. Harry and Camille broke up, but you didn’t let yourself hope. Instead, you threw yourself into work, trying to forget the way his smile made you feel, the way his voice lingered in your mind.

It wasn’t until a late night in Los Angeles that everything came to a head.

You were there for a show, and Harry was in town for a film premiere. He invited you to dinner, just the two of you, like old times.

Over glasses of wine, you talked about everything and nothing, laughing until your sides hurt.

Then, out of nowhere, he brought up “Shadow.”

“Was it about someone specific?” he asked, his tone careful.

You froze, the truth threatening to spill out.

“Why do you ask?” you countered, stalling.

“Because…” He hesitated, running a hand through his hair. “Because I feel like I know who it’s about.”

Your heart stopped. “Harry—”

“Is it me?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

You looked away, the weight of his gaze too much to bear.

“I…” You swallowed hard. “Does it matter?”

“It does to me,” he said.

When you finally met his eyes, you saw something there—something that looked a lot like hope.

“I wrote it because I didn’t know how else to deal,” you admitted, your voice trembling. “I didn’t want to ruin what we have.”

Harry reached across the table, his hand brushing yours.

“You could never ruin it,” he said softly. “But you should’ve told me.”

“Why?” you asked, tears brimming in your eyes. “So you could tell me you don’t feel the same?”

“No,” he said, shaking his head. “So I could tell you I do.”

The world seemed to stop in that moment.

“You… what?”

“I’ve been in love with you for years,” he confessed. “But I didn’t think you felt the same. And then Camille happened, and I thought maybe I’d missed my chance.”

Tears spilled down your cheeks, a mix of relief and disbelief.

“Harry…”

He stood, pulling you into his arms. You melted against him, all the unspoken words finally finding their place.

“I’m sorry it took me so long,” he whispered.

“It doesn’t matter,” you said, your voice muffled against his chest. “We’re here now.”

And as he pressed his lips to yours, everything else faded away.

From that moment on, your relationship changed. It wasn’t easy—balancing two demanding careers never is—but you made it work.

Because love, you realized, was worth the wait.

[guardarecheluna]

There's a version of life that i want, and it's just like this.

Words: 4.6K

Warnings: embarrassingly sweet fluff that may be giving you a toothache.

A/N: hi loves! Now let me tell you, THIS was self-indulgent. But I’m blaming some of you who’s asking for Harry and Y/N’s first meeting, SO, here you go, it’s absolutely filled with cliches and fluff – which is exactly what I’m into. Please let me know what you thought of this and if you'd like to hear more from them! <3

Summary: Their first meeting. Eyes searching for the other in the sea of people, clumsy, clammy hands grabbing at each other in the night, just for some sort of connection. Y/N swore up and down that love isn’t something you just find, it’s something you create. Oh, how wrong she was.

Masterlist HERE

The first meeting

It was just like that love that you read about in the books. It was fast, simple, pure and most of all, requited.

Harry and Y/N were very aware that whenever they were asked the story about how they first met, the story was often received and answered to with a sigh and a roll of their eyes. They knew, it sounded like an absolute fairytale. Not that there hadn’t been bumps in the road; there had been many, but the first night they met were free of any bumps and awkward conversations. Because when love was found, they wanted to sing it to the deep blue sea, from the high rooftops, that they had found their person. And that feeling; that night, is something no person or situation will ever take away from them - no matter how many rolled their eyes.

May 7th, 2019

“Y/N get a goddamn grip or I’m leaving without you.” Maya had yelled to Y/N from the lounge. A unusually huge glass in her hand filled with whatever alcohol she could find in Y/Ns apartment. Maya was already bothered, huffing and puffing when she arrived at Y/Ns apartment, and to find Y/N not yet ready for their outing was just one more inconvenience.

Y/N and Maya had been friends since university, and now, well into their 20s their friendship only grew more and more solid. “You need to give me a moment, Maya,” Y/N shouted back, keeping her voice as still and calm as she could, wanting Maya to calm down. Although she knew better than to use her gentle tone with Maya when she was upset, she snickered, knowing that Maya may as well be completely out of her mind by now. “Jesus fucking Christ on a boat, Y/N, don’t start.” Maya said under her breath. Y/N could hear her in the lounge, heavy feet waltzing around with angry, toddler-like steps, on a mission to get her point across that they needed to get a move on.

Y/N was just doing the finishing touches, perfume, bracelet, and a deep breath in the mirror. “Alright, we’re good,” she said, looking at herself, almost examining herself, looking for a reason to not step out of the front door. Not that there was anything holding her back besides her bed, Netflix and maybe some baking of a mudcake, but all of that just sounded much more tempting than their friend’s birthday party.

They were a small gaggle of friends from university still seeing each other now and then. They weren’t as close as Y/N and Maya were, but it was enough to see them a few times a year and get invitations to their parties. It was their friend Eli’s birthday this time, coupled with Eli’s boyfriend, who’s birthday was just around the corner.

Eli was an absolute whirlwind of a woman, energetic, social and constantly engaging with others because of it. A big party like this was Eli’s dream. She and her boyfriend, Melwin, had rented out this private property on the outskirts of London. A party pad by the lake with a huge outside area, bedrooms for all, and most importantly, a full bar. As you could guess, Eli was loaded. Or, actually, her family was. And while this party had been a bucket list thing for Eli for a long time, and it was definitely still special, it was also common for Eli to throw big parties.

Y/N and Maya had of course promised Eli that they were coming and staying over, since they had to get there with a car.

Y/N took one final look in the mirror, and then grabbed her packed bag from her chair, stuffing it with a few final things, the perfume from earlier, her trusted Aquaphor, charger and ID.

“I’m guessing I’ll be getting us there.” Y/N said, as she stepped out of her room, eyebrow rose in question of what she was witnessing. Maya was gulping down the final drops of whatever alcohol she had found in Y/N’s cupboard. Maya dragged the back of her hand against her lips making a face at the taste of the harsh alcohol, already regretting her decision of having a pre drink. “You know, we’re going to have to last until the morning, why are you doing this to yourself?” Y/N continued, laughing at Mayas face and the absolute amateur behaviour she was showing off. Maya closed her eyes, speaking slow and out of breath the big gulps of liquid she had just taken down. “You’re damn right, get your pretty ass in the car before I bring out the real hard stuff.” Maya had such a straight face, Y/N couldn’t help but laugh, and reply, “You’re cute, and about as intimidating as a butterfly stuck in pink candy floss, but alright.”

Y/N took the keys from Maya’s hand as she put her shoes on, standing in the doorway, with the key in the lock, ready to leave the stillness of her apartment for the weekend.

If she only knew.

Driving in London is a nightmare come to life. However, with enough pep talk and hurrahs from Maya, they finally made it to the outskirts of the city and made their way to the villa by the lake. And the house was…well it was huge.

Y/N parked beside the big timber house, looking out over the lake and the open-air party-area filled with tables, little gazeboes, a bar and string lights. They could hear the music blasting while they drove through the wooded area to get them to the house, high treetops decorating the sky and creating a perfect watercolour painting on the reflection of the lake.

Loud voices were heard from the other side of the house as they rounded up their things from the car and stepped inside. They definitely weren’t the first ones to arrive, and still, it would seem that the house was filled to the brim with people of different ages, genders and looks.

“Should we just find ourselves a room and lock us up in there?” Y/N said quietly to Maya without letting her gaze wander from the different people in the house. Maya rolled her eyes, the drink she had gulped down at Y/N’s apartment working in her system. Maya turned to look Y/N straight in the eye, with a stoney face. “Absolutely not. I’m not having another one of those nights, you’re going to drink, dance, have fun, and find a potential boyfriend. We’re done sitting inside drinking wine and whining about never finding prince charming. Done.” Ouch. Maya was maybe a little too honest with her feelings sometimes, but Y/N also knew that the looks and the shaming she was receiving was fully real and probably needed to give her a little kick.

Y/N let out a dramatic, fake sigh, “Fineeeee, but only you get me a shot in the next 7 minutes.” Maya smirked. “Well, lady, if that isn’t my specialty, what do you fancy?”

They walked into the crowd of people, arms linked together, snickering and looking around the crowd for something, or someone interesting.

Y/N was just going to steer them towards the outside bar area, eyes zeroed in on the target, when someone crashed harshly into her shoulder. “HEEY!” Maya yelled immediately when she realized what had went down.

“Shit, I’m so sorry, I really didn’t think I had that much to drink, I’m so so sorry” A deeper, slow British accent sounded behind her. Y/N didn’t even bother to look at him, just put on a smile despite her now aching shoulder. “It’s alright, don’t worry about it, happens now and then. I actually enjoy hockey-tackling when I’m drunk so be on the lookout for when I’ve had a few shots later tonight.” Y/N said, finally meeting eyes with the force that crashed into her. A belly laughter erupted from a man, she realized. “I’ll be sure to be on the lookout, but I’ll make sure to stay out of the way just in case. What’s your name, hockey-fiend?” He said between chuckles, recovering from the laugh he let out. This was…an interesting conversation to say the least. Most people, when faced with Y/N’s witty commentary would back off immediately and just think she’s an incredibly strange person, but not him. “It’s Y/N.” She said plainly, a smirk on her glossy lips with her arm stretched out, hand for him to take. “Well, Y/N, I’m Harry. I’ll be on the lookout, let me know if you need me to be your punching bag.” He said, and he smiled. Y/N really wasn’t that bothered with men and their antics, but when Harry smiled, she true to god almost threw up. That smile was infections, it made her warm and cold at the same time, a shiver running down her back when he let go of her hand. And then he walked off, smile still sitting on his face.

Maya had been surprisingly quiet, her mouth agape when Y/N finally gained consciousness again and looked at her. “Do you realize who you just fucking tackled?” Maya whisper-screamed in Y/N’s face. Y/N knew he was familiar, she knew she had seen him somewhere, not quite being able to place him. Maybe he had been at another one of these parties. “Y/N, you just flirted with Harry fucking Styles, and guess what? You’re going to charm his goddamn pants off tonight, you’re going to hockey tackle him at least twice more and he’s going to like it.”

Well, Shit. A flush immediately settled over Y/N’s face. Did she just? There’s absolutely no way. She didn’t even mean to sound flirty, that had to be one of the most embarrassing experiences of her life. Y/N almost thinks it was good that he was famous, because he had to have so many interactions, that her embarrassing flirting and almost-tackle to the floor might just fade into the background.

“I can’t believe I fucking said that to Harry Styles, now I really have to have a shot. Or dig myself into a hole, that must be in like, the top 3 worst things I’ve ever done.” Y/N sighed, hands covering her face to hide her blushing skin. “How is he even here? Does Eli know him? Or Melwin? I’m going to lose my mind.” Y/N continued, sinking deeper into her hole of embarrassment, desperately needing to dig her way out of it. Luckily, Maya was there to drag her out of this, as usual. “Are you being for real? You understand that he flirted back, right? Hockey-fiend, my ass, let’s get drinking and I’ll snoop around for some more information about him. You’re getting laid with Harry Styles tonight, I’m fucking calling it.” Maya said, self-assured, and grabbed Y/Ns arm to head towards to bar. It was indeed time for a drink. Och seven.

It was slightly later in the evening. The sky wasn’t quite dark yet, but the string lights hanging above the outside area of the villa was giving the whole evening a much cozier feel, despite people being drunk off their asses. Y/N had was walking away from the crowd, knowing she needed a breather. Maybe a cigarette. She didn’t usually smoke, however at parties, she’d like to have one here and there. And it was a perfect excuse to get away for a moment. She could feel the alcohol in her system, but she wasn’t quite drunk, at least not yet.

As she looked around the crowd of people to find a way out, she caught his eyes again. Harry. It looked like he was standing in a circle with who she’s guessing was his friends, but the moment they made eye contact, none of them looked away. He smiled with those insanely sweet dimples, giving her a nod and then got dragged back into the conversation once more. Y/N smiled. Maybe she didn’t mess up as bad as she thought.

Y/N was sneaking away from the crowd for a moment and went down to the lake close by the house. And even though it was close enough that she could still hear the yelling, loud voices from the bar, and the music blasting lake, coming down to the still water gave her a sense of tranquillity. Still buzzing from the drinks she had ingested, she smiled to herself, like you do, and sat down in the grass by the lake.

She pulled out one of her cigarettes and lit it up. Deep strokes were inhaled and exhaled as the nicotine from the cigarette made her calm out to her fingertips.

“See, I didn’t take you as a smoker.” She heard a voice behind her. She knew it was him without even looking back, the deep, sultry voice and slight northern british accent.

“Well if you knew me, you’d know I’m not a smoker, guess you’ve got a lot to learn.” Y/N replied cheekily as he sat down beside her. Y/N hadn’t looked at him yet, he did make her nervous, for sure, her stomach churning and even though he was sat next to her, at least 20 centimetres away, it was like she could feel the heat from his body from where she was sitting. She finally decided to look up at him, eyes sparkling from the reflection of the lake and hair tousled in an annoyingly good-looking way, She drew her hand up, wordlessly offering him a drag from her cigarette. Maybe she was going to be brave today. “I’m no smoker either.” He said, and in the middle of the sentence reaching up and takin the cigarette she offered, smiling at her. “Hmm, I guess there’s a lot I don’t know about you, either.” She said, pulling her knees up and resting her arms overtop. She chuckled. “Want to play 20 questions?” She continued, laughing at her youthful wording. He laughed, handing her cigarette back, “Ask away, love.”

Y/N had no idea how long they had been sitting at the lake. It could’ve been a few minutes, or hours. They asked each other ridiculous questions, answers becoming even more strange and somehow deep and more meaningful by the minute. Sometimes a scilence fell over them, thinking about what to answer the other, but it was never that awkward feeling, he was just so easy. Patient, kind, and teasing, but in the most loving way a person could be. “What does it matter if I scrunch or fold the toilet paper?” Harry asked her, laughter erupting from him, shaking his whole body. Y/N was acting offended but smiling big as she shook her head. “I feel like it says a lot about a person! And from what I’m gathering you’re a scruncher.” She said, looking at him with an accusatory look. He raised his hand as if he’s surrendering. “Alright, alright.”

Harry felt free talking to her. She was so unbothered and funny, yet still had this bottomless depth of a personality.

Harry was the type of person to fall in love quickly, he knew this. It was also an issue, because in this situation, he already knew he was in deep shit looking at her curls falling from her head to her eyes scrunching up when she smiled. He was so fucked. Y/N on the other hand, was almost surprised that she managed to keep her cool talking to him. She could tell his eyes lingered on her face a little bit longer than necessary, and how his body language had opened up to her, almost matching hers. Y/N however, wasn’t one to fall in love quickly or without rhyme or reason. She knew that falling in love would take hard work, dedication from both people and most of all, attraction. So, the feeling of her chest feeling tight when Harry laughed at her stupid comments, or how her stomach churned when their eyes met was a foreign, and new feeling to her. Was this how it was supposed to feel like the whole time? Maybe she just hadn’t found her person.

Suddenly Y/N stood up. Eyeing the lake and then looking at Harry. He knew exactly what she meant. “You can’t be serious. It’s the beginning of may, it’s going to be freezing.” He looked at her, face challenging and unserious. “Oh I’m fully serious, watch me:” Y/N replied, tugging her top over her had and pulling down her trousers, leaving her in just her underwear as she ran towards the lake and clumsily jumped in. Harry instantly looked away from her body, keeping his eyes on her face as she ripped the clothes off her body, the gentleman he was.

She was so free. And Harry hadn’t felt like that in years. As she emerged from the water, her whole body till in the water, she said, “Are you coming, or?” Dragging out her R’s as to tease him slightly.

And it was almost like he couldn’t protest as to what his body did next. He stood up and started pulling off his shoes, along with his other clothes. “Shit. I can’t even believe this.” He said quietly to himself as he focused on not toppling over from the previous alcohol he had ingested.

Y/N swam out into the depths of the water as she saw him coming into the water after her. A constant smile on his pink lips, his cheeks aching from all the laughs she had given him, he swam up behind her, diving into the water and grabbing her ankle as she tried to fight him back.

They splashed at eachother, swam, and laughed without a care in the world. Without a care that this huge party was going on just 50 metres away from them; they were in their own little bubble.

They were out of breath by now, lips turning blue in the chilly May temperature. Harry was shivering from the cold, but honestly, he could barely feel the biting water that surrounding him when he looked at her. Her now et hair perfectly slicked against her head and eyes gleaming, but he could tell that she was shivering as well.

She swam up to him, deciding to be brave, embracing the fire in her chest and the confidence from the alcohol and his loving gazes. She wrapped her legs around his hips in the water, arms around his neck as she scratched his baby hairs at the nape of his neck. She could feel his whole body tighten up as he clasped his arms around her middle. They were face to face in the water, close, close. Breaths heaving and cold, blue lips smiling. She finally had his eyes looking at hers. “Is this alright?” Harry asked, almost shyly, a furrow in his brow as if it wasn’t her who came up to him and wrapped herself around his body. She nodded. “You haven’t looked at my body even once.” She said calmly, forehead leaning against his, eyes still set on his.

He chuckled. “I..I didn’t want to without it being okay with you.” The confident and self-assured Harry she had seen earlier almost completely gone as he grabbed her closer, bringing her so that her body was flush against his. “You’re sweet. But if I remember correctly I was the one who pulled all my clothes off in front of you and dragged you into the water. I want you to look at me.” She replied to him, giving the back of his neck a scratch with her nails. She could feel the hairs on his arms standing up from goosebumps, but she couldn’t tell if it was her doing or if it was the cold water. He broke their eye contact and looked down, his forehead nudging her nose. Harry let a puff of air escape his lungs, “I’m in so much trouble with you.” Y/N smiled at his comment, and he looked up at her again, foreheads touching once again. Harry’s hand came up to touch her cheek, and she leaned into his hand, placing a gentle kiss on his palm. If this was in any other dimension, Y/N was sure she could see hearts in his eyes as he looked at her lips touching his palm. Y/N writhed in his arms, cold lips like magnets, wanting to button together as if the universe had them made for each other. Neither Y/N or Harry knows how long this silent dreamstate they were in lasted, switching breaths and desperately wanting to get closer. “Can i kiss you?” Harry whispered, breaking the silence between them. And before Harry could even listen for an answer from her, their lips met in a mix of warmth, magic, and desperation. Harry let a moan slip out when their lips finally touched. This was the feeling he had been chasing ever since he almost knocked her to the ground earlier in the day. The tense desperation building between them ever since they sat down at the lake and ever since he had laid eyes on her. It was her, it was all her on his mind, Harry felt like he could go crazy, just by having her lips touching his. Their kiss continued, hands touching and grabbing at their sides, hair and cheeks. As they broke their kiss they didn’t dare to speak. It felt like all of their manners and etiquette had been drained from them, letting their nature take over in overwhelmingly good kisses. “I hate to do this, but I think my toes are about to fall off of my body.” Harry whispered to her, his confidence wittiness from the start, back in his voice. Y/N gave him a “Mhm.” As he started to move them to the shoreline, limbs still tangled and frozen to each other’s bodies.

Harry put Y/N down as they reached the grass, and man, now without her body clinging to his, he could really feel the cold. He grabbed his coat that was still laying on the grass, draping it over Y/N’s shoulders. The rest of their clothes and shoes as well as the now almost empty pack of cigarettes, he scooped up in his arms. “C’mon.” He smiled to her, giving her a short kiss to her lips, leading the way around the house and to the room he was staying in for the night. She looked at him with pure adoration and love-sickness at this point, and followed along.

It was almost 3am at this point, and the party out in the garden was still in full swing, Y/N thought to herself that if she knew her friends right, they party was just now starting, and they would keep going until at least 5am, waiting for the sun to start rising.

It was Y/N’s turn to feel shy as Harry had his arm in the small of her back, letting her into his room. He immediately dropped their clothes and belongings on the floor of the hallway and dragged her with him to the bathroom. They were both shaking from the cold as Harry’s icy fingers turned on the shower and pulled her in with him, both still in their underwear. “God, I can’t even feel the bottom half of my body. Remind me to never do that again, even if it is to impress a cute boy.” Y/N stuttered out as they waited for the water to turn hot. She didn’t look at him, her eyes focusing on the water, waiting for the steam to engulf her. However, if she had looked at him, she would see the same love-sick eyes and syrupy sweet smile spreading on his features. “No more impressing cute boys, I’ll get too jealous, if I’m honest.” He said as he pulled her in under the water, their bodies immediately relaxing under the heat of the water, skin turning bright red from the change in temperature.

Their lips found each other once again, in the warm water of Harry’s shower. Hands moving to touch wherever they could. “Will you stay here with me tonight?” Harry let out between kisses.

Y/N did a crash-analysis in her head the moment he asked her. Was he looking for just a one-time thing? He was famous after all, maybe this was just how he brought home the girl’s he’d like to sleep with. No, she could swear there was something in his eyes that wasn’t just lust and looking for someone to stick his dick into, this was something else. She decided to be brave, maybe even test him, if you will.

She nodded to his question, “Yes.”

As they got out of the shower, Harry offered her some warm clothes from his suitcase. She climbed into the fluffy cloud of a bed, freshly washed with crisp white linen that made her almost let out a moan from how good it felt. She put herself in the middle of the bed, and turned to the window, closing her eyes for a moment, smiling for herself as she tried to comprehend all that happened this evening.

Harry joined her in bed, also in a fresh pair of underwear and sweats, chest bare as still flushed red from their shower. “Can I lay next to you?” Harry let out as he lifted the duvet, always asking her for permission. He really was the most careful and caring person, she was realizing. And he she felt almost dumb to have even considered that the chemistry they had was to be excused as a simple hook-up at a party. She didn’t answer him, but he helped him raise the duvet further and reached her arms out for him as an invitation. He looked at her as he got in right next to her, as their limbs once again tangled together for further connection and closeness.

And they talked, they continued talking through the night, playing with fingers, listening and laughing at anecdotes, jokes and facts.

Harry could tell her eyes was starting to droop as her speech got quieter and more slurred, words getting caught in her lips on their way out. “Shhhh,” Harry hushed her in the middle of the sentence. “Sleep and we’ll talk more in the morning; I’m not letting you out of that cliffhanger that easily though.” He continued with fondness in his voice, kissing her cheek and forehead, Y/N relaxing in his arms. Y/N let out a happy sigh of contentment as she cuddled closer to Harry’s chest, face fully burrowed into his neck and breathing in his natural scent. She was already drifting off though, there was nothing stopping her now.

They both fell asleep that night in each other’s arms, engrossed in what would bloom to become the most beautiful, important relationship they had ever had. But at that point, bundled up in each other’s arms and peacefully resting through to the late morning - they just didn’t know yet.

[hikarry]

Girl, sit down. I'm about to slap you with another imagine

*claps hands*

Ready?

Imagine: 1802, Russia. Czar Alexander I in power

Crowley infiltrated the palace as a war General.

A maid just handed him an envelope while he was walking around the gardens, and he was quick to open it with his finger. It was Aziraphale's, from Soho, London. A long one, as they usually were.

He scanned it quickly, just taking the general idea - he would read more calmly when he was home, by himself, and not feeling like he was being watched.

At the end of the second page, finally, something actually caught his attention. Aziraphale was going to Krasnaya Polyana, around a day away from Moscow. Apparently, there had been a spike of demonic activity there, and Heaven had sent him to investigate. He was asking if Crowley had anything to do with it, but he clearly didn't. He had been stuck in Moscow for 7 months now. But, alas, he also had no idea who it could be. He was not informed that another demon was topside in this region. And, for some reason, the angel going to the encounter of an unknown demon was not sitting well with him. He folded the letter and hid it in his jacket's pocket.

Aziraphale was a big angel. He could look out for himself... yet that did not mean Crowley couldn't try and find out who was causing mayhem in Krasnaya Polyana, did it?

As soon as Crowley got home that night, he wrote a quick note to one of his contacts in Hell, asking for information and readied himself to wait for at least 3 days before he got an answer. Surprisingly, it took only a night. When he woke up, there was a small note on his bedside table. He picked it up and turned it around, reading quickly. He sucked in a sharp breath before re-reading the note, just to make sure he was understanding correctly.

Asmodeus was topside. Along with Vine. A Prince and a Duke of Hell, and Aziraphale was walking right to the lion's mouth by himself.

Right. Okay.

Crowley read it one last time before burning it in his hands.

He had to find an excuse to get himself sent to Krasnaya Polyana as soon as possible, preferably before Asmodeus and Vine caught Aziraphale's scent around. The angel might be an ex-cherubim, but Satan knew what a real Prince of Hell could do to him and Crowley was surely not going to sit in the sidelines to find out.

A week and a half later - way way later than he expected - he got himself in Krasnaya Polyana. As soon as he got out of the train, he was hit with the smell of sulfur and a heavy feeling of evil all around.

With no bags to carry or to worry about, he just closed his eyes and reached out for Aziraphale's essence. He could feel it, barely. If his senses weren't mistaken, he was somewhere in the mountain.

Could Crowley help it, he wanted to avoid meeting both the Prince and the Duke. He only hoped Aziraphale was still off their tracks.

It was snowing heavily. The mountain was covered in ice, and the wind was frigid and white, somehow. It made it very, very hard to see or even focus enough to grasp Aziraphale's essence and keep following it.

His boots sank in the snow, and it didn't take long for his legs to start hurting and his insides to feel raw from the cold.

At the peripheral of his vision, he could also feel two very distinguishable demonic essences. The stronger one was in the city, which Crowley had already left behind, and the other was barely visible, somewhere on the top of the mountain, but considerably far away from Aziraphale.

The angel was alright. Probably he was in one of those ski places slightly up the mountain. And, confident in that thought, Crowley forced himself to stop and enter a bar nearby. Exhausting himself would not help the angel, so he needed a little break to recover and be able to continue to climb the bloody mountain.

He was sitting at a table, half full glass of vodka between his hands, when a loud groan was heard outside and the whole building shook, all the lights going out. People around him gasped and yelled, holding themselves to the furniture and each other until the tremor stopped.

"Oh goodness, what was that?" A woman asked near the bar with a very heavy French accent, both her arms around a man that held her just as close.

"An avalanche." The bartender answered, walking around to light up some candles. "And a strong one at that. There might be replicas, so everyone should stay put for at least an hour or-"

Yeah...so, Crowley didn't exactly hear the rest. He just tossed the vodka down in a single swing and got up from his seat, slithering around the people in the bar until he reached the door. He felt a hand on his arm, trying to pull him back when he reached for the doorknob, but he shook it away, finally getting outside.

The layer of snow outside was so thick now that his boots didn't dig into it. So he ran. Which didn't help with his respiratory system and, consequently, the rest of his body feeling raw and frozen all at the same time in less than few seconds. It took longer for his legs to get tired, but he was already tired, regardless. Still, he soldiered on, all riding on adrenaline and low-key panic.

"Aziraphale!" When Crowley started feeling his essence more clearly he started calling out for him, trying to see through the fog and the snow still falling. Not even his demonic eyes were helping on that task.

Eventually, he got to a spot where he could feel the essence so strongly that he actually felt its warmth, so he stopped and looked around, his heart hammering against his chest and his breath rasp and heavy.

"Aziraphale?" He turned on himself. There was no sign of Aziraphale anywhere... but he could swear the angel should be right here... and suddenly, it clicked. "No..." He was under the snow, wasn't he? "Fuck. Aziraphale!"

Crowley took a few steps to the left and fell to his knees, his trousers getting ice cold soaked as he dig the snow as fast as he could. He had no idea how much time had passed, but finally, he found some cream fabric under the snow.

"No, no, no, no. For fucks sake, Aziraphale!" Still digging, he started talking to himself, mainly not to let the panic spiral and keep himself grounded. "Why is it always you?! Don't those wanker archangels have any other angel to throw into a frozen nightmare after their bloody death?!"

From there, it was rather easy to dig his torso and his face from under the snow.

Aziraphale was frozen to the touch, his lips were an awful shade of bluish-purple and his corporation was not breathing.

Okay. Crowley. Just. Don't. Panic.

He held Aziraphale by the shoulders and pulled him the rest of the way out of the snow.

"Angel?" At some point he had thrown his gloves to the side to make digging easier, so now he placed his equally frozen, wet and trembling hands on Aziraphale's cheeks. With his demonic essence, he tried to reach out for Aziraphale's and the angel's essence reached back instantly like a cougar attacking its unattentive prey, surprising the demon, who staggered back, hands away from the angel, snapping his essence back inside his own corporation.

Alright. Aziraphale was quite clearly still here, and he was either so out of his mind he pounced on Crowley with the default intent to smite him, or he was just plainly terrified.

Carefully, both his hands once again on the angel's face, he slowly reached out, this time more prepared for when Aziraphale's essence jumped on him.

Aziraphale wasn't trying to smite him. He was reaching for warmth.

Crowley's corporation shallowed as he sat back and pulled Aziraphale to his lap, upping his body heat as much as he possibly could. It didn't feel great. In fact, it felt like he was having a very bad fever, and his mind swam a bit with the sudden difference in temperature, but he had to try and keep the angel warm. On a metaphysical level, Crowley's True Form surrounded Aziraphale's, as tight as metaphysically possible, trying to keep him stable. Keep him here. His essence was flickering a bit, and Crowley wasn't having any of it.

"Don't you dare discorporate, you bastard."

Crowley looked around. There was nowhere warm where he could take the angel close enough. Try as he might, this was only a temporary solution. One that wasn't doing much at that.

Suddenly, his head snapped back to attention as he felt a demonic presence getting closer.

Fucking Heavens, that was exactly the last thing he needed right now. There was nowhere to hide, and even if he found some place, the Duke would feel Aziraphale's essence and hunt like a starved dog.

Right. Think. Preferably before Aziraphale fucking discoporates in your arms.

The only idea that came to mind was miracling a small cabin or whatnot into existence right then and there. It would be a big ass miracle, and he would be exhausted afterward, but his priority was keeping Aziraphale here. So he took a long breath and snapped his fingers, a small wooden cabin showing up right behind them.

Gently, Crowley got up and took Aziraphale in his arms, walking them both into the cabin. At least inside there was no more wind or snow, and whatever body heat his body produced would remain trapped between the four walls.

Sitting Aziraphale on the floor with his back against the wall, Crowley detached his cape from his shoulders and wrapped it around the angel before turning his attention to the door.

Vine would find a cabin in the middle of a bloody mountain suspicious, as he should.

Crowley was tired, both physically, mentally and metaphysically, and his miracle reservoir was quite affected by that and the big ass miracle he just performed, but he had to put up wards around this place that not only masked the cabin, but both his and Aziraphale's essences from the Duke's radar. It was easier said than done, but he had no time to dilly dally. With each snap, he felt his mind go foggy, and his vision tilt to the side. Yet, he kept going until everything was more or less in place. All he could do for now was pray. Or not pray. He was a demon. Demons didn't pray

He sat on the floor next to Aziraphale and pulled him into his lap, hugging him against his chest and upping his body temperature once again. This time, he was invaded by a sudden nausea, and his eyes unfocused, but he kept it up, trapping Aziraphale's True Form with his own once again.

"Stay with me, angel." It was more a wordless request than a whisper.

There they stayed, Crowley with his head leaned against the wall and Aziraphale unconscious on his arms.

Slowly but surely, Aziraphale's skin started warming up, and his lips changed to a very pale pink, but pink nonetheless.

Crowley was exhausted. Part of him was begging him to close his eyes and sleep, but if he did his body temperature would go back down to normal and his essence would spring back to his corporation, letting go of Aziraphale and that wasn't an option. Not until he was concious.

In the back of his mind, he noticed when the demonic presence got dangerously close to where they were. Instinctively, he hugged Aziraphale more tightly, holding his breath. He felt truly frozen in place while the Duke slowly walked by them and only allowed himself to somewhat relax again when he was far away enough. Yet, he didn't put down the wards. They were consuming a lot of his energy, and his body was growing somewhat numb, but he refused to let go.

Aziraphale's corporation took a deep breath and slowly started shaking.

Good. That was good. He was coming back to himself.

It was a slow process, but when the night fell outside, Aziraphale finally stirred, opening his eyes with quite the effort.

"Crowley...?" His voice was sluggish, but Satan was it good to hear it. The demon was too weak to answer with words, so he only hummed, gripping him more strongly. "What happened...?"

Gradually, Crowley let his body heat fall to its normal temperature, and he let the ward hidding the cabin fall. It was like someone had taken a boulder off his chest, but his mind was still somewhat slow. He looked down at Aziraphale, his sunglasses lost somewhere in the snow outside while he had been digging.

"There's was an avalanche. You got trapped in it. Buried yourself 7 feet under a block of ice."

Aziraphale moved slightly on his lap, straightening himself up so he was actually sitting.

"You're supposed to be in Moscow."

"Observant."

"What are you even doing here, Crowley?"

He thought about dropping his arms from around Aziraphale, but he wasn't ready for that. Not yet.

"Saving your arse once again, obviously. If I had stayed in Moscow, right now your corporation would be a popsicle and you would be upstairs getting an earful from Gabriel or that wanker Michael. So, you're welcome."

The angel didn't say anything else. Instead, he let his head fall on Crowley's shoulder, and both of them stayed in silence, only their ragged breathes and the wind outside making themselves heard.

"You need to leave Russia. Or, at least, Krasnaya Polyana."

"I can't." His hand was gripping the front of Crowley's jacket, the demon wasn't sure he was aware of that. "I have an assignment to complete."

"It's completed." Aziraphale's head snapped up, looking the demon in the eye. "You came here to figure out why there was a spike of demonic energy here, yes? There's a Prince and a Duke of Hell. Asmodeus and Vine. That's why."

"I can't just leave these people in the hands of two demons! I have to find out whatever it is they are trying to do!"

"That's not part of your assignment. You had to know the cause, now you know. You will write your report as soon as you can and get the heavens out of here before they sniff you out."

"Crowley, you're being ridic-"

"You are leaving, Aziraphale." Now it was his turn to look the angel in the eye, his voice as cold as the ice outside. "You've never dealt with a Duke of Hell, much less a Prince. You've mainly dealt with me and, let's be honest with ourselves, I give you little to no trouble. You are not prepared to face either of them. Asmodeus could easily discorporate you on sight. Or kill you. Actually kill you. Destroy your essence. They are not some random demons you can waltz to and have a polite conversation with." Aziraphale stayed quiet, unmoving. "You are leaving and that's final."

"You can't order me around."

"I'm trying to save your bloody life, Aziraphale!" His arms let go of the angel, and his hands came up to grab his shoulders, shaking him slightly. "This is not a joke. They will not stop by to have tea and biscuits and discuss the weather while you convince them to leave. Stop being fucking stubborn for once in your damn life! You did what you came to do. Just tell Gabriel that they are here and leave." Aziraphale looks down to his hands. "I'm serious, angel." He held the angel's chin, pushing him to look up at him again. "I'm not leaving you here with them. You either come with me to Moscow or go straight back to London to the bookshop."

Crowley feels the vibrations of Aziraphale humming on his fingers.

"Very well, my dear. Whatever you say." The angel got up from his lap and the demon followed him, swaying on his feet. Aziraphale held his arm, stabilizing him. "Are you quite alright?"

He kept his eyes closed for a few moments until his mind stopped feeling sluggish. Probably because he took too long answer, Crowley felt Aziraphale's fingers brushing his. He finally let down the two last wards and took the deepest breath.

"I'm fine. Just. A lot of big miracles. And you grabbing at my essence and True Form like a dehydrated man in the desert." Aziraphale's hand flinched away and he was about to open his mouth to say something, but Crowley cut it, holding his hand, squeezing it. "I said I'm fine. Let's go back to civilization, shall we?"

They did go back to civilization. To Moscow in the first train out from Krasnaya Polyana, to be more precise.

Aziraphale stayed with Crowley in his flat at the capital for 3 days. He wrote the report as soon as they arrived, and both waited to hear something from Gabriel in the next few days, but silence was all they got. On the 3rd day, when Aziraphale had his train back to Paris and then to London, Crowley insisted on seeing him out, so he had to leave the palace in quite the hurry, with no chance to switch out his uniform.

"Thank you for seeing me out, dear. Or should I say..." Aziraphale tapped Crowley's hat. ", General?"

Crowley rolled his eyes fondly, smiling in response.

"Shut up."

"I'm not jesting. You've always looked rather... fetching in a uniform. When was the last time you wore one? American Revolution?"

"I believe so."

Aziraphale hummed, fixing Crowley's left shoulder pad.

"You always wore them much better than I did."

"Usually you are at the hospitals saving lives, angel. Not in the battlefield."

The angel snorted.

"Not like you are in the battlefield actually fighting yourself."

"Oi! I have fought!"

"Mmh. I've never seen you holding a gun. And the last time I saw you brandishing a sword was back in the Gallic Wars, back in 58 BCE."

"Ngk."

Aziraphale chuckled, taking a step back, grabbing his suitcase.

"Will you be back in London?"

"Myeah. Should be done here in another year or so."

"Shall I keep watering your plants?"

"You've got the key, don't you?"

"Indeed." They heard the train making the last call and both looked towards the noise before looking back at each other. "Do try to not get yourself discorporated."

"Likewise. I'll see you in a year, angel."

Aziraphale nodded and started walking away, dragging his suitcase behind him. Before stepping through the train's entrance, he looked back, spotting the demon exactly where he left him, still watching him. Crowley winked and saluted him, pulling a chuckle out of Aziraphale's throat.

Crowley was ridiculous.

And so the angel went back to London. Alive. And out of the rather of any demonic entity, apart from the one he wanted to stay in the radar of.

[allophonicmess]

Sweetest Taste

Masterlist

15th Doctor x Reader (One Shot)

Part of the Doctor and Sun universe but can be read as a stand-alone

SMUT ( fem oral reciving & P in V)

4.3K

Tags: Fluff, Smut, body worship, consent, unprotected sex, established relationship

June offered the perfect time to visit London's Kensington Park for a stroll. Living in the bustling, vibrant city, you came to love it over the years. The park gates acted like a separator between the cold, busy and unpersonal streets and the lush green gardens that offered a sense of connectedness for the visitors, allowing them to escape from the pressure of the city and simply decompress and be.

You pulled at your clothes, making sure that you looked your best. It wasn't your first meeting; it was far from it. Yet, this day marked your first proper meeting with him in this new body, and it made you both excited and nervous, just like the previous times you two saw each other again with new eyes. Literally.

You felt a grin spread over your lips as you passed the black gates that separated the greenery from the greyish street. Passing the café, you stood momentarily, eyes wandering over the small, chapel-like building, the calm scene, and artistically set up plans in the middle of the grass. To your left, the view opened into the display of dark-orange cranesbills, lavender and other flowers. The ensemble reminded you of the sunset, rich in colour and contrast. Behind it, a line of angular ponds, lined with waterplants and accompanied by beautifully crafted benches, created the scene of the Italian Gardens.

This was the place you had decided to meet. You stayed on the reddish pavement, following one of the main routes through the park. The white oldtimer turned ice cream vendor stood in its usual place, attracting a small crowd of eager customers. They had formed a line, waiting patiently for their turn to receive their sweet treat.

"Should have clarified the time we meet", you mainly mumbled to yourself. You had told him when and where to meet you but in a more broad sense. Yet daytime also played a key role. You looked around for a moment. Perhaps a walk would be good to pass the time. You could follow the Long Water, take a look at one of the many statues and then come back a little later to see if he arrived at your set location. Or you could start searching for the big, blue police telephone box. It shouldn't be hard to find unless he fixed the chameleon circuit. Perhaps this new Doctor got tired of the Tardis' look, but you doubt it.

"Figured you'd be here around noon. Love to spend your-"He continued, but you interrupted him, finishing the sentence alongside him.

"Well, good on me to have thought of that" he spoke, the playful tone of his new voice made your grin before you consciously processed it. It was as if your body was drawn to him, able to recognise it anywhere, regardless of sound, tone or pitch. Always recognising, always drawn to it.

You turned around with a soft gasp, and there he stood. A big, inviting smile stretched over his face, adorned by a thin, trimmed moustache. His eyes held a twinkle that you couldn't quite explain. Youthful joy and pure ecstasy were the best words you could find. There were two ice cones, one in each hand. 99 Flake, you noticed. Vanilla soft ice with a chocolate flake, Simple yet classy.

"-lunch break in the park." You chuckled, approaching him and taking the cool dessert with a soft "Thank you".

"Bring some ice cream, you said. And here we are!" he cheered with a joyous laugh. You nodded, letting your eyes wander over his new look. He had changed; he put on some actual clothes. You didn't mind his 50/50 Bi-generation look, but it was… impractical for travelling.

He noticed your wandering eyes and decided to play into it. The Doctor stepped back, giving you a little swirl that made his orange leather coat swish. He had dressed up nicely. The outfit was new, certainly different from what he used to wear, yet it suited him so very well.

It reflected him, the healed and refreshed mindset expressed in daybreak's bright and daring colours. He wore light, striped sneakers, contrasting with the dark blue trousers. 'He really put some thought into this,' you thought, noticing the repetition of colours on his top. The zipper of his striped jumper was opened halfway, revealing the view of the necklace set he wore. An orange gem on one chain and an odd-looking golden shape on the other. They rested over a soft patch of dark chest hair that you took immediate interest in.

"You like it?" He asked with a flirty wink, stepping closer again and taking your free hand.

"Yeah, very stylish. It's new. Different, but I think it looks great. Especially the jewellery." You admired, feeling the cool metal of his ringers against your hand as you squeezed it to emphasise your comment.

"Thanks, darling." He chuckled softly, eyes moving from your face to the hand which held your now semi-melted ice cream that threatened to spill over your fingers.

"You want to lick that away before you get your hands dirty." He nodded towards it.

You quickly breathe a soft 'oh', turning the cone in your hand to clean it up. The sweet and creamy liquid made you hum in delight. You noticed that the Doctor was about to be in the same predicament as you. The molten cream snailing over the wafer.

"Same with yours. Don't want to make a mess." You joked, looking him in the eye. But he stayed serious, keeping eye contact for longer than you would find appropriate for the situation.

Then, there was a shift in the air around you. The soft reunion of lovers turning into something else…

His eyes focused on you as he licked away a streak of melted ice cream that dared to run down the cone. Those dark eyes watching you intently, clearly aware of the sexual allusion the action carried.

He grinned cheekily at your loss of words, clearly aware of what he was doing to you. But he wanted to take his sweet time with you. He enjoyed teasing you before, always did, but now it had a different tone to it. He felt a rush, watching you struggle; your attraction to him was undeniable.

Oh goodness, that stare was stirring something in you.

You released a breath, eyes following his pink tongue slide along the brown wafer with perfect pressure. He took his sweet time, knowing exactly what he was doing to you.

"Uh…" You started, gasped really, at a loss of words. Regeneration was a gamble, and you won.

"My plan?" You asked, shifting in your seat to get a better look at him. "What do you mean?"

"Do you want to sit down?" He asked softly, sweetly, with an innocent look. He waited for your approving nod, then placed his arm around your waist to lead you to one of the benches that lined the fountains.

You tried to calm down and get your pulse back to normal. You had seen him just yesterday. The other version of him, still him though. But this new factette of him thrilled you, willing to play along in his little game. It only would make winning the price sweeter and much more satisfying.

The two of you sat down on a bench. The wood under you had been warmed in the sun, making for a cosy spot. The Doctor moved in closely, placing one arm over the backrest. His hand rested on your shoulder and arm, stroking over it in a slow, calming motion.

"You chose a lovely spot", He commented, watching the place and people around him. He slid a little closer, making your thighs touch. He looked into the distance, where the Long Water widened into a river.

"So what's your plan?" He turned back to you, taking a lazy lick of his treat. He was almost finished.

"I was wondering how you want to proceed now. Do you want to keep your routine? Work, here on Earth? Travel?" He squeezed your shoulder, waiting patiently for your response. His head was turned back, the light shifting in his short, dark hair. The colour bordering between black and a lush midnight blue.

"I liked the routine. Me staying here, taking care of Earth while you are off. You taking me on dates when you find the time." You shrugged.

"Oh yeah? I'm glad to hear it." He pulled you in for another kiss. It was less passionate but undoubtedly made you feel his love. The Doctor petted your face quietly, watching you with warm admiration.

He sighed, something shifting behind his eyes. "I should have made more time for you." He whispered with some sense of grief behind it. "You deserve so much more than what I offered you." He moved even closer, and the arm around you pulled you into him. His hand moved towards your face.

He held your face gently, fingers curled and ringed knuckles resisting against your pulse as his thumb glided over your cheek.

"That will change now. You will be my priority." His eyes moved between your eyes and your lips, silently asking for permission to kiss you. You granted it, leaning forward to meet him in a soft, shy kiss. It was new, different to the feeling and rhythm you were used to. But you adapted, just like so many times prior. You found a new rhythm with him, lips moving in a sweet dance.

The two of you only let go to catch a breath of air, grinning shyly at each other like smitten teenagers. "You liked that?" He whispered with a breathy chuckle. Your actions, visible acceptance of this new version of him, took away the feeling of nervousness.

"Yeah, very much." You replied with a smile, just as relieved as him. Change was a constant in your lives. Things and people; everything was constantly changing. Yet you remained.

"I'll admit: I'm a fan of this." You vaguely motioned towards him, his face and body. "It suits you." Your own smile widened as he seemed to light up. The complement boosted his already strong confidence and charm. He radiated a warmth that you just wanted to bask in.

You didn't mind the silence. It felt easy and natural. But you were giddy, high on his smile and the joy you felt. So your brain went into overdrive, leading to making a silly confession.

"You know what I couldn't stop thinking about?" You asked, unable to hold back a childish giggle, already overly excited to reveal it.

"What?" He asked, watching you intently.

"Those thighs." You giggled, placing a hand on his left leg for emphasis. The woolly material of his trousers was rather rough against your fingers. But you felt his warmth seeping through the pant leg.

"Is that so?" He grinned. First, it was innocent, playing to your joke. But then it turned hungry before shifting into a stern expression.

And there it was again, that tension around you.

"You know what I kept thinking about?" He asked, his thumb tracing your lip.

You only managed to let out a breath of air. Yet he took it as a response to reveal it to you.

"I kept thinking about how sweet you will taste on this new tongue."

Oh, you were done for.

Your eyes met his. A spark was ignited the moment you saw the lust and longing reflected in his intense stare.

"Take me. Now."

What ensued was a mad rush for the Tardis. He grabbed your hand and practically dragged you off to the location of the well-known police call box. He had parked it just outside the other park gates. There, resting in the shade of tall plane trees, right next to old and out-of-use red telephone boxes. You would have laughed at it and appreciated the joke if it hadn't been for the delicious ache between your legs and the heat that flushed your body.

The Doctor practically ripped open the Tardis door, letting you in before him. He stepped in quickly and slammed the door shut the moment you were both inside. And not even a second later, you found yourself pressed against said door. Pillowy lips caressed yours as soft hums escaped between them, and strong hands grasped at your sides. All you could see and feel was him.

You threw your arms around his neck, gently scratching his neck and toying with the collar of his leather coat. That evoked a hiss from him; his tone made pain and pleasure mix.

"Need more of you." He hissed, placing his hands under your ass and pulling you up. You immediately wrapped your legs around his waist, crossing your ankles behind him to create stability. Thank the universe for Timelords' strength. He didn't carry you very far, though, slowly setting you down on the edge of the Tardis console. The surface was slightly sloped, but the new design allowed for free space between the control elements. You believe it might even have been made like this on purpose. Naughty machine.

This new position allowed you to be on eye level with the Doctor, if not, being a little taller than him. He noticed it, too, breaking away from you and grinning at you with marvel. You placed your hands on his jaw, feeling the skin there, the shaved hair over his sharp cheekbones. You pulled him in for another kiss, this time leading him in it. You held him there momentarily before your hands smoothed over his neck, along his ears and back down to the coat collar. A tuck signified him to shrug it off, and he obliged. The garment fell to the floor with a soft swoosh, leaving him in his jumper and pants.

You broke the kiss slowly, pressing your forehead to his as your hands wandered over his shoulders and back, feeling the strong yet lean muscle underneath the woolly material. He did the same, tugging at your jacket and shirt in the hope of finally being able to touch your skin. You let the coat slip from your arms, lifting them immediately to let him pull off your shirt. It left you in only your bra, sitting on the white metal console.

"You look like a goddess", He sighed, going for your neck and the soft spot behind your ear. The kisses there turned into playful nibbles as he carefully held the skin between his teeth to suck at it. It made you gasp, a shower running down your spine. You pulled the Doctor into an even closer embrace, hands holding him firmly.

He hummed against your skin, hands massaging the skin of your waste. His lips moved lower, over your clevis, down to the spot on your breast bone just above where your breasts connected to the skin. He licked down a stripe, only halting when he was stopped by your bra. It made him look up.

"Will you allow me to find out?" He looked you deep in the eye, waiting for your consent. His fingers were tracing along the hem of your jeans, eager to have you be rid of them. You nodded, holding onto his shoulders.

"I need you to use your words, darling." He kissed your jaw for emphasis; his right hand had moved up to the small of your back, tracing the spot where your spine connected.

"Yes, please." You managed to answer, already pushing yourself up on his shoulders to make it easier to free yourself of your pants. He grinned, making quick work of the zipper and button. He freed the jeans and underwear from under you with a swift pull. His hands explored the now-exposed skin of your thighs before pulling off your shoes to take off your pants for good.

He sighed at the view in front of him. Lips skimming over your thighs as he slowly and gracefully got to his knees. His hands traced over your back and down to your hips, squeezing them. The Doctor looked like he was about to pray, eyes focused up at you in admiration, soft breaths excepting through his slightly opened lips. He pulled you forward by your hips, making you lean forward and stabilise yourself with one hand on his shoulder and one on the console.

"My good girl." He whispered into the soft skin of your thigh, the moustache deliciously ticking you. His hands were on your knees, keeping your legs spread for him.

"Let me have some of that sweet taste." He mumbled before he oh so slowly licked over your core. You gasped, feeling his hot breath on you and heavenly pleasure against your clit. He kept his eyes focused on you, licking in slow motions before taking your pleasure bud in his mouth and gently sucking on it. The sensation was otherworldly, making you throw your head back. Years of experience had made him so good at making you gasp and scream, and the regeneration into a woman had evidently benefited his understanding of female pleasure.

He kept at it, lapping at you like his life depended on it. At some point, one of his hands had moved from your knees to your thigh, massaging it gently in the rhythm of his licks. You weren't going to last long if he kept going like this.

You moaned softly, trying to gather the energy and will to make him move. While this was great, you needed to feel him inside you.

A hand was placed on his head, making him stop to look at you.

"Too much?" He asked; the wet shine of your juices on his moustache made you even hotter.

"No, it's great, but I need you to feel you." You explained weakly, "I need to feel you inside me." You slid slightly lower on the console to get down on shaky legs, hoping they could hold you up.

But he was faster, swiftly getting back on his feet to carry you like he did before. The dark wool was rubbing against your core deliciously with each step as he carried you over the ramp towards the bedroom.

The Doctor placed you on the edge of the bed with just as much care and admiration as he had picked you up with. He was crouched before you, smiling softly in anticipation. You grinned, smoothing your hands over his neck and over the cool metal of his jewellery. The zipper of his jumper was only halfway open, so you took the little metal handle to open it fully, allowing you access to the gentle splatter of chest hair. Your hands moved over his torso, but you had to stop as the material offered no more room before the seams would give away.

"You are overdressed", You stated, making him chuckle. He readily lifted your arms to help get rid of his clothes. Fingers snuck under the waistband of his pants, grabbing onto not only the jumper and the light undershirt as well.

"Much better", you mumbled, placing your hands on his chest to explore it. He was fitter than you expected. Muscles stretched and flexed under your hands, and he brought his arms back down to hold your shoulders, pushing the straps of your bra down. He moved awkwardly from one foot to the other to shrug off his trainers.

That left him in his socks and pants. Still, too much, you decided and started fumbling with the button of his trousers.

"You got what you wanted. Let me see those legs again." You joked, making him laugh as he freed himself of the last of his clothing. He leaned over you, kissing you softly as he worked on the hooks of your bra. It hadn't been long since the two of you had had sex. But not with this body; it excited you to feel him again.

You slid back on the bed, allowing him to kneel and hover over you. The bra had been taken care of and thrown on the pile of clothing on the floor at the foot of the bed. You were getting ready to lay on the bed, having moved the duvet and additional pillows aside, but the Doctor stopped you.

"Can we try something?" He asked, still leaning over you, hands caressing your neck and the back of your shoulders as you turned towards him.

"Yeah, sure." You answered, interested in what he had in mind.

He kissed you again, gently holding your lower lip between his teeth before letting it go to focus on you.

"I want you on top." He stated simply. Kissing along your neck, fingers tracing your sides. "I want to watch you take what you need." He spoke against your chest in between soft kisses. "Is that alright?"

He asked, and you never knew that asking you for your consent to try something new would be so hot.

"Yes," You hissed. He had taken one of your nipples in his mouth, gently sucking on it and holding the other breast in his hand. His thumb was moving over the other in soft circles.

"Lovely." He commented, giving your chest one last kiss before leaning away from you to arrange the pillows to make himself comfortable. A few were placed against the headboard, allowing him to lie in a half-sitting position. The Doctor nodded to you, signalling that he was ready.

"C'mon then. Let me feel you." He beckoned you, hissing in pleasure when you moved over to him, lowering yourself over his lap. His cock was half erect, so you pumped it a few times, letting the tip grace over your folds.

"You are so good", He whispered, eyes closed in pleasure. He reached for your body, hands exploring your back. "So good to me." He mumbled, already drunk on you.

You positioned him, slowly lowering yourself into his lap and moaning in pleasure just as he did. You took a few breaths, stabilising yourself on his shoulders. He felt different but filled you oh so deliciously.

"I'm gonna move now." You announced, making him nod. His hands had found their place on your hips, pulling your torso a little forward. He looked up as you filled his vision. You looked ethereal; the dimmed light of the Tardis was behind you, creating a halo around you.

"My goddess, my sweet sweet girl." He groaned, pushing his hips into yours to reach deeper.

He held you, slowly pulling your chest into him. You were both catching your breaths, lying in a loving embrace.

You were both getting close.

He held you as you rode him, feeling blissful to see the expression of pleasure on your face. You felt your core tighten. His gentle fingers and thrusts move you closer to the edge.

"Go on," He said, moving onto his elbows to kiss along your neck. "Take what you need. I want to see you come."

His encouragement drove you closer; you fasten your paste while he uses his hands on your hips to push himself more deeply with each thrust. You were becoming hazy, so close to that sweet release. He noticed it, too, finding the soft spot behind your ear and sucking on it gently.

That threw you over the edge, coming with a gasp. You could feel your cervix pulsating, squeezing him inside you.

"That's it." He chuckled softly, but it quickly turned into a moan as he, too, came. The sight of your orgasm, the fact that his words and actions had helped you reach that sweet spot. It gave him the last push to tip over the edge and cum.

"I love you so much", He mumbled against your ear, fingers skimming over your back and holding you close.

You hummed, "I Love you, too. Till the end of time," You turned your head away from its position against his neck to kiss him softly.

You stayed that way for a moment longer, petting each other gently and sharing kisses. With a soft groan, you let his cook slip out. You managed to shift onto the side, leaning next to him. You were spent, happy to feel the soft comfort of the bed underneath you.

The Doctor sat up to reach for the duvet at the foot of the bed, placing it over the two of you. He had lifted his arm to let you move on his chest, just like you always did.

No words were spoken as you moved to place your head on his chest, your free hand gently laying next to it. He pressed a kiss to your forehead, arm wrapped around you and fingers smoothing over your arm in a slow back and forth.

He sighed, eyes closed, enjoying the feeling of you next to him. He wouldn't mind staying like this for the rest of his life and the ones following it.

You shifted a little to look at him, your eyes meeting, smiling softly at each other.

"What do you want to do now?" You asked softly, drawing patterns into his skin.

He hummed, thinking for a moment.

"The club? You go partying?" You asked, chucking at the absurd idea. He had never been to a club, not that you knew about. But with each regeneration came new quirks.

"I wouldn't mind a nap." He joked, smile widening as he saw you laugh. He squeezed your shoulder softly before leaning back.

"How about a nap. And then we go to the club?" He offered.

"Yeah, I feel like we should go to a club. Maybe something exciting will happen." He winked, leaning forward to kiss you again before settling into the pillows and closing his eyes.