#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

[helen-with-an-a]

could you write a jessie fleming x Putellas!sister!reader

reader is really shy and doesn't talk much so alexia thinks reader is still single but at the friendly match between canada and spain jessie gets fouled badly and reader sprints across the field do comfort her and be there for her

Hiiiii - so I'm combining this with another ask for a multi-part Jessie series and a little idea that has been floating around in my head. This is the first part of a multi-part blurb story that follows a loose timeline but is also not really. Each part is based on the 1 of the 5 senses plus a bonus. I hope you enjoy it.

Sight

Sight : Sound : Smell : Taste : Touch : Cryptaesthesia

Jessie Fleming x Putellas!Reader

Description: R sees Jessie for the first time

Word Count: 1.7k

Growing up with Alexia as your sister was hard. Not bad, not negative – just a constant ... challenge. It felt like being a part of something extraordinary but knowing you’d never be the star. Alexia was Alexia Putellas, a name that carried weight, a name that carried talent and recognition. You were just ... you. While Alexia’s accomplishments lit up the room, you often felt like you were always a beat behind, your achievements cloaked in her shadow. It was impossible not to feel the subtle comparisons, the whispered remarks about being “Alexia’s hermanita,” as if that alone defined you. You never scored as many goals or had as many trophies, everything you had ever done, Alexia had done before you. Make it into La Masia, play for Barça B, play for the first team, break into the national team, receive your first cap, your first goal for La Roja ... Alexia had done it all before, you had usually gone on to do even better things.

Maybe that’s why, when the chance came, you decided to say 'fuck it' and move to Chelsea. Ona was heading to Manchester, eager for a chance at some more playing time that just wasn't happening at Barcelona. You chose London, craving change – a place where you could define yourself, beyond your last name and your big sister. You were just twenty-two, still piecing together who you were outside of Alexia’s Hermanita, and yet here you were, packing up and moving to another country right in the middle of a global pandemic. The Blues had come knocking over the summer, Emma had seen videos of what you could do, of who you could be on the pitch. She had taken a chance in making the phone call, and you had taken a chance in saying yes.

It was daunting, nerve-wracking, exciting, all at once. You’d be alone, out of your comfort zone, away from family and everything familiar. A new language, new weather, different culture, new people. But maybe ... maybe that was exactly what you needed: a fresh start, a space to breathe without the shadows, a chance to be more than “just the hermana.” What was there to lose?

And then you saw her. Jessie.

She stood a little off to the side, almost as if she wasn’t sure she belonged there, but her presence filled the room all the same. Your eyes caught hers for just a second, and that was all it took. There was something about her that felt disarming and comforting all at once – a softness in her expression that drew you in like nothing else had since you’d arrived in London. You no longer felt the nip of the autumn air, you were no longer completely lost, surrounded by people you barely understood. You were ... you weren't quite sure what you were, but something had definitely shifted.

Her smile was shy, barely there, but it made your heart lurch as though you’d known her forever. She wore a slightly oversized Chelsea hoodie that made her look small and cosy. The sleeves were pulled over her hands, and she had a baseball cap perched on her head, tilting just enough to let wisps of hair escape. You could see her gaze flitting around, a bit uncertain, like she was trying to take everything in without being seen herself.

“Uh, hi,” Jessie said, her smile gentle as she extended her hand toward you. Her eyes met yours with quiet confidence, even though her cheeks were tinged with a soft pink.

“H-hi,” you replied, wincing a little at the way your English sounded, thick with the nervousness you couldn’t shake off. You’d spoken English so many times before, but something about this moment ... about Jessie ... made it feel clumsy, like you were learning the language all over again. You had a far better grasp of the language than Alexia had, one of the few things you could pride yourself on being better at, yet here you were, stuttering and stumbling over a simple word.

Jessie must have noticed your hesitance, because she gave you an encouraging smile and then took a deep breath, braving a few Spanish words herself. “Estoy encantad...o… encatada?”

You couldn’t help but smile at her effort, the way she scrunched her nose slightly, clearly uncertain of the words. It was charming and utterly adorable. “Encantada,” you corrected her gently, watching her try the word on her lips.

“Encantada,” she repeated, a little more confidently this time, her voice soft and almost musical as she looked up at you.

Then she took a breath, as if gathering herself, and said, “Estoy encantada de conocerte.”

It was imperfect, yet so endearing, and you felt your heart skip as her words hung in the air. It was a simple phrase, but it felt like the most beautiful thing you’d ever heard.

“You are… Canadiense, sí?” you asked, testing the waters, wanting to know just a little bit more about her.

“Canadiense? Oh, Canadian?” Jessie’s face lit up as she caught on. “Yes, uh, sí.”

“Do ... you speak ... French?” you asked, each word slow and careful as you sifted through your English, hoping you hadn’t lost her.

Jessie laughed softly, shaking her head. “No, no. I don’t speak French, unfortunately. We had to learn it in school, but nothing really stuck. I didn’t try as much as I should have in the lessons…” She paused, a sheepish smile appearing as she realised she was rambling. “I just really didn’t care at the time, and now that I’m out of school – and out of Canada in general…” She trailed off, catching herself, cheeks going pink as she realised how fast she’d been talking. “Sorry,” she apologised, her voice a little softer, almost embarrassed.

You shook your head with a reassuring smile, though you’d only caught pieces of what she’d said. Truthfully, you hadn’t been concentrating much on the words themselves; you were too mesmerised by her expressions, by the way she talked and the way her mouth moved as she spoke.

Her hands twisted together, fingers nervously playing with the hem of her hoodie. Her chocolate-brown eyes sparkled with hints of light you couldn’t look away from. Every so often, her gaze darted back to you, checking if you understood, if she hadn’t lost you entirely, but to you, the details hardly mattered. You felt a warmth spreading through your chest, and you realised you’d never wanted to listen to anyone quite as much as you wanted to listen to her.

The first few weeks at Chelsea were a blur of excitement, nerves, and blushing uncontrollably whenever Jessie was around. It seemed like she could simply walk into a room, and your cheeks would betray you, heating up despite your best attempts to play it cool. Every time you were near her, words tangled in your mouth, your mind going blank as she flashed you that easy, shy smile. You’d catch yourself stealing glances, mesmerised by the smallest details – the way she tucked her hair behind her ear, the quiet focus in her eyes, the subtle hints of laughter that danced on her lips when she was listening.

But on the pitch, Jessie was something else entirely. Watching her play was like watching art in motion. She moved with a confidence and skill that felt almost otherworldly, commanding every inch of space around her with a natural grace and intensity that left you breathless. You had seen good players before. You had watched Alexia win all of her accolades, but this ... Jessie was something entirely different.

You couldn’t help but be captivated by her. There was a beauty in her game that went beyond skill; it was something deeper, something raw and magnetic that had you spellbound.

“Hola,” Jessie greeted you with that soft smile, walking over as you both lingered in the changing rooms after training one afternoon.

“Hi, Jessie,” you replied, already feeling the blush rush to your cheeks.

She shifted her weight slightly, her fingers curling around the strings of her hoodie, a familiar gesture you’d noticed before – a nervous habit that only seemed to surface when she was around you. “I was wondering…” she began, her voice quiet, almost shy. Then, after a short breath, she asked, “Puedo invitarte a cenar alguna vez?”

The Spanish threw you, startling you out of your own thoughts. “Que?” you blurted automatically, your mind scrambling to catch up with what she’d just said.

Jessie’s cheeks flushed a deep pink, and she looked down, her gaze dipping as if she suddenly wished she could disappear. “Did I say that wrong?” she mumbled, her voice muffled with embarrassment. “Oh gosh, this is so embarrassing.” She shifted, her hands clutching her hoodie strings a little tighter. “I… I was trying… am trying…” She paused, taking a deep breath before looking up at you, eyes wide. “Could I maybe take you out to dinner sometime? Like… on a date… I don’t know.”

You felt a rush of warmth bloom in your chest, realising what she was asking.

“Sí,” you managed to say, a shy smile spreading across your face as warmth bloomed in your cheeks. “Uh … yes, Jessie, me encantaría eso.”

Jessie’s brow furrowed slightly as she tried to process your words. “You… encantar…?” she repeated, her expression a little puzzled, eyes full of that earnest concentration you found so endearing.

You chuckled softly, “I would like that.”

“Oh!” she said, her smile returning, wider and more certain now, her fingers finally letting go of her hoodie strings. There was a new spark in her eyes, a look of pure relief mixed with excitement, and it made your heart skip. She looked so genuinely happy, her gaze locking with yours in a way that made everything else fade into the background.

“Good,” she whispered, almost to herself, her smile turning soft and shy again. “Cool ... I … I’m really glad.”

[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.

[cherrycranes]

Private Show (Tommy Shelby x Fem!Reader) [+18]

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x female reader Summary: You're a burlesque star who caught the eye of the infamous Tommy Shelby, and one night after your show he decides to pay you a little visit backstage. Word count: 3,292 Contents: (Minors DNI) Unprotected sex, hair pulling, semi public sex? pull out, cum shot. Author's notes: Once more, my bestie @fuckiingloser and I collaborated to make this. Give her some love! I've had this in mind for quite a while now so I hope you enjoy it. Mandatory "english is not my first language" disclaimer. ILY!

The roar of your beloved London audience followed you across the backstage hall. You were a star. A burlesque princess adorned in sequins and rhinestones, enamouring the audience with your unique presence and charm that got you where you stood at this very moment. Adrenaline coursed madly through your veins, mapping out every inner crevice of your risqué scarlet costume. Another job well done. Another night of the glory of bright lights, music and performance.

Every single sound got muffled out right after you entered your small private dressing room. A privilege of being the main attraction. No more snarky comments and unhealthy competition between a stressed out dance troupe. It was just you in your velvety stool, admiring your own self in the vanity mirror. What a beautiful woman. Carefully, you removed your feathered headpiece and let your hair down in relief, finally winding down.

You removed your bracelets and hairpins, carefully placing them in their respective decorated boxes when a soft knock on your door interrupted you. Definitely the stage manager, you thought, already picturing what he would say to you about your next show. To your surprise, however, when you opened the door you met with a completely different man…

Thomas Shelby, in all of his infamous gangster glory standing right in front of you, that signature cheeky smirk upon his devilishly handsome face. 

He looked like he wanted to swallow you whole. 

You knew of this man. The Shelbys had risen to power throughout the years and now, anyone with a working brain knew who they were. The name Tommy Shelby made many shudder, and now, you had him just a step away. 

“Can I help you?” You looked straight into his perfect blue eyes, fearlessly. You owed nothing to anyone and you had no reason to cower in front of him, no matter how dangerous or handsome he was. 

“I don’t know, love, can you?” His smile grew a bit, his voice was husky and rich in a Birmingham accent. He didn’t bother to conceal the way his eyes roamed all over your scantily clad body, so beautifully adorned in red jewels and feathers and so deliciously leaving little to the imagination.

“Backstage is private, you know…” You pretended to chastise him, leaning against the doorframe like you didn’t have a feared criminal shamelessly checking you out. He didn’t even try to hide his intentions. He laughed a bit, your heart raced. No security could ever stop him from doing what he pleased and you both knew it.

 “I've seen your pretty picture on flyers all over town…  Figured I’d come see what all the fuss is about…” He remarked as your eyes locked on each other finally. 

“And?” You asked with a pretty smile. “Was it everything you dreamed and more?” His smirk grew to a big grin. He knew you were a tease, feeding him with playful banter that he absolutely enjoyed.

“You were a sight to behold out there, love… Body like that, face like that and voice like yours… I’ve never seen anything quite like you… You were a goddess up there.” Thomas practically purred to you in that thick accent that made your pussy tingle and sent shivers down your spine. His tongue, quick yet unmissable to your eyes, wet his lips after speaking. So subtle but incredibly sensual. You wanted to drop down to your knees…

But you also wanted to make him work for it a little…

Charmingly, you invited him in for a drink. An irresistible offer. You shut the rest of the world out and closed the door behind him. Just you and him in your little shoebox dressing room. He sat down on the small futon across from you and you sat at your vanity, pouring you two glasses of whiskey from your secret stash. The room was so tiny your knee brushed against his when you spun your stool around to face him and hand him his drink.

“There was buzz amongst the other girls of a Shelby brother in the crowd tonight…” You started, lipstick staining your glass and your legs crossing. “I was hoping it was you…” Thomas smirked like a devil, your admission feeding his ego. 

“And why’s that, love?” He took a large sip of whiskey like it was a sip of you, savoring the burn like he wanted to savor you. It made you nervous, restless… And you were a performer, your nerves were supposed to be of steel. But Tommy had something about him, an aura, a natural disarming confidence that made you want to bow down in submission. You swallowed a bit, just to gain some confidence back, knocking your head out of the trance his accent and icy blue eyes put you under. 

“Well you’re the leader right? The big man in charge…” You charmed through your smirk like he was your audience, looking over at his crisp, expensive navy blue suit. Tommy laughed, pulling a cigarette out and rubbing it against his plump bottom lip before lighting it up.

“That’s right…” He smirked, a puff of smoke adorning his words. He leaned forward a bit, his large calloused hand finding its shameless way to the exposed skin of your knee and rubbing it softly with his thumb. Naughty girl, not even wearing a pantyhose for your performances. A mischievous glint shimmered in his eyes. 

You couldn’t help but bite your lip and clench your legs together at his touch. The sexual tension hung thick and heavy in the air of your tiny dressing room, threatening to burn you both alive. 

“I'm known for getting what I want… When I want it, love…” There it was, expected yet it caused a strong reaction in you. The closer he leaned in, the more he spoke with that deep voice of his, the more you wanted it. He stabbed his cigarette out in the ashtray next to you on your vanity, your faces now inches apart. 

“And I'd love a private show…”  He whispered, his voice raspy. His hand reached out and the tips of his fingers brushed over the red jewels on your breast, nearly feeling the pulse of your racing heart. You could feel yourself soaking through your underwear from just the thought of what he wanted to do with you. To you.

“I'm not a whore, Mr Shelby…” You retorted softly, finding pleasure in resistance despite how turned on you were for him already. Tommy, accustomed to most women giving in easily, smirked, thrilled by the challenge.

“But you could be, couldn’t you? Just for me…?” His voice was attractive, persuasive. One of his hands came up to tuck a lock of hair behind your ear, his eyes bearing into yours deeply. There was always something so captivating about a man with no shame about getting what he wants… And this man just so happened to want you.

Hungry eyes moved from your alluring cleavage towards your gaze again. You had found yourself completely speechless at his proposition, not even a single witty comment popping into your head at that moment. For a second, you got lost in the crystal blue, enthralled by the obvious knowledge of what would come next for you both.

Without another word he sat up and leaned forward, closing the gap between you. His plump lips met yours, the taste of cigarettes and whiskey melding in your mouth. You closed your eyes, letting him sink you to the depths of his desire, your tongue melting slowly against his. You took your time with each other, just soaking in the sensuality of it all, sharing a few gentle moans before his hand came up to grip the back of your head.

You made out slowly, almost teasingly for around a minute, then finally pulled back for air. There was that smirk again, Tommy reveled in as his hand snaked between your thighs and his thumb rubbed gently over the satin of your costume, right over your pussy. He pressed against your clit through the fabric and you bit your lip, stifling back a moan.

He took in every single detail of your reaction and loved each one. You felt a nice shiver running down your spine as his mouth came closer to your ear.

“You little minx… This little pussy’s already wet for me and all I had to do was kiss you…”. His hot breath on your ear mixed with his words had your brain buzzing, expertly knowing how to push your buttons.

Soft kisses peppered the skin of your neck, sending another shiver through your spine and goosebumps all over your body. His rough, greedy hands reached back to undo the fastenings of your costume, then gently pulled it down your chest, your warm tits finally bare for his eyes to rake over.

“Jesus… You are just gorgeous…” He rasped, unable to stop himself from tracing the soft underside of your breast. Not that he would have to stop. But even then, for such a rugged, scary gangster, he was so gentle. So reverent. It truly took your breath and words away, filling the now empty space with butterflies instead. From your chest to every nerve ending of your fluttering pussy, a deep need for him ran rampant. 

“You've got me rock hard…” Tommy whispered, proudly proving it to you. His growing bulge in his trousers looking right at you, mirroring your own desire. He rose slowly, looming over you and your vanity set.

“Stand up for me love… Let’s get this costume off you,  I need to see this beautiful body naked and bent over this vanity for me…” 

Your eyes widened, but you weren’t against his request. Without thinking it twice, you stood up, one of his hands slid off your red satin costume bottoms, the other took your hand and helped you step out of them. The metallic jeweled necklace around you felt heavy with all the loss of clothing items, you reached behind to unclasp it, but Tommy stopped you.

“Keep it…” He whispered, slowly turning you around until you faced the mirror of your vanity. You looked utterly gorgeous. Completely naked besides the beautiful ruby necklace you had on. You watched his smile widen in the reflection and his strong arms wrapping around you.

One hand came up to squeeze the soft flesh of your breast, the other now traced slow tempting patterns over your skin, down your stomach and between your legs. One finger rubbed between your slit tortuously slowly, making you moan and close your eyes. You melted against him, perfectly placing your ear close to his hot breath. 

 “Ah ah ah… Keep those pretty eyes open… I want you to watch yourself fall apart on my cock…” Tommy purred, his voice so deep and sexy you wondered why your arousal wasn’t dripping down the inside of your legs already. Obediently, you nodded and opened your eyes, locking gazes with yourself in the mirror. 

“Yes, sir…” You moaned back, his fingertip rubbing painfully slow, hard circles on your clit. He grinned, proud of just how easily you yielded to his touch, how easily you submitted yourself to him.

Slowly, he grinded his aching hard-on against you back, a reminder of what was to come. Gentle, wet kisses left a fiery wake on your neck that extended to your earlobe, he nibbled it, his finger never once forgetting your clit.

“Bend over…” He commanded, a little whine of protest leaving your lips when he withdrew his finger from you. Hoping to get that much needed stimulation back, you did as he said, bending over your vanity and displaying yourself for him. Tommy responded with the sound of his belt unbuckling and the rustling of his trousers being undone. 

In the reflection of the mirror, you watched him pull down his trousers and briefs in one go, his large thick cock springing free and slapping obscenely against his pelvis. Its head was already red and dripping, aching to be buried deep inside you.

Not wasting a single second, he palmed your ass cheeks, spreading them apart a bit to get a better look at you and your puffy wet folds. He groaned, knowing that in a few minutes his cock would be buried deep between them.

He looked up into the mirror, locking eyes with you and giving you a sexy smirk. It was an unforgettable image, with you laid there, bent over your vanity panting in anticipation. The lighting of the room cast a warm glow over your naked body, making the rubies around your neck glimmer. 

“Looks like it’ll be a tight fit love… But we’ll make it work… Won’t we?” He cooed, voice dripping with need like you were dripping wet for him. 

You nodded, your eyes on the mirror, paying close attention to every movement of his and hoping it would lead him closer to fuck you. The way he licked his lips, how he reached down to line up behind you. It all seemed so slow in your own arousal-clouded mind. When he gripped your hips, you felt relief, and when he finally started to sink into your dripping center, you moaned. It was a breathy, soft moan with a grateful undertone. Such a sweet relief after centuries of teasing and foreplay. 

Tommy groaned loudly, one part for pleasure, one part for being proved right. You were indeed really tight. Your pussy stretched and swallowed his aching cock, already feeling so full and he still hadn't pushed all the way in yet. You whimpered, getting split open further like never before in your life. Any discomfort from adjusting to his length and girth completely outshined by total and complete pleasure.

“Fuck me… This pussy is so perfect… Gripping my cock so fuckin’ good…” Tommy groaned, managing to push even further and finally filling you full. He gave you a merciful second to adjust before moving his hips, slowly pumping in and out of you.

Involuntarily, your eyes shut, moaning repeatedly for him in this newfound sea of pleasure. You felt his hand tug around your hair hard, your neck craning up to look into the mirror. A warning. Remembering, your eyes shot open, you whimpered like an apologetic prey to the mixture of pain and pleasure.

“I said… Keep those eyes open…” He growled, stern eyes looking at you through the mirror. As discipline, he pistoned his hips faster, you whined loudly. He drilled into you relentlessly, skin slapping with fury against skin and filling your changing room with obscene noises.

“Y-yes sir…” You managed to moan out, noticing how the pale blue of his eyes never once left the reflection of your deeply fucked form. Your mouth hung open, your eyes were half lidded and struggling to follow his command. In your mind, every single thought disappeared, all of them fucked out of your head until only him remained. 

The thick tip of his cock nudged that special spot inside you, over and over with every perfect, hard thrust of his hips. You babbled incoherently, still watching like he wanted. Your reflection bouncing and jiggling with each hard and fast movement. 

Tommy smirked, but even through his triumph he was lost in the pleasure too. He panted hard, his fingers sunk into the flesh of your hips and made sure there would be evidence of the encounter tomorrow morning. As if you minded. 

The vision of you falling apart on his cock got to him in the best way possible. From the way you were moaning to how you almost drooled as he fucked into you hard. It was obvious you weren’t going to last much longer, and neither would he.

“Jesus Christ-  This pussy’s so good- I think it was made for me… Won’t last much longer…” He groaned to you, a hint of vulnerability escaping in between the words.

At this point, your body and mind had a major disconnect, so well fucked forming a coherent sentence took all your brain power.

“P-please… please come..” You stuttered pathetically, eyes fixed on his reflection. His hand tightened its grip on your hair for leverage as his thrusts got sloppier and sloppier, his strong hips pistoning into you. 

His left hand left its vicious grip on your hip and snaked around to find your clit, beginning to rub hard circles on it. The combination of his long cock poking your g-spot with every thrust and his fingertips rubbing your clit had you seeing God… Your orgasm built in the pits of your stomach, threatening to boil over any second now…

“I want you to come first love…  Want this perfect pussy to cream all over my cock…” He rasped, his voice deep and thick with need, almost like he was begging you to.

And that’s what did it for you.

The pressure in you finally reached its peak and exploded into the best orgasm you had ever experienced. Every nerve of your body relented to the sinful pressure, making you cry out a string of loud whiny moans and mindless curses. Your pussy clenched him tight, like you never wanted to let him go. For a moment you disobeyed his previous command, as your eyes rolled to the back of your head and lost track of the private show your reflection in the mirror was giving.

He moaned loudly, feeling you clamp around him. The satisfaction of seeing the reflection of your face contorting and twisting in pleasure was priceless, Tommy truly understood just how much he loved to see you fall apart for him… Because of him…

He fucked you through your orgasm, chasing him. The feeling of your pussy spasming around him had his usually crystal clear mind completely hazy with pleasure. The way you looked, sounded, felt… It was too much for him… So much it sent him over the edge.

His hips slowed their movements a bit and it hit him.

 “Oh fuck love- I’m coming…” He warned with a strangled moan. Quickly, he pulled out, shooting thick hot ropes of his cum onto your ass cheeks, eyes still focused on the mirror. 

You watched too, biting your lip at the feeling. Tommy’s brows furrowed together while he moaned for you, his warm load slowly dripping down your ass and taking over your senses. You both stayed there for a second, catching your breath, basking in the afterglow together.

After a while, Tommy tucked his tired cock back into his trousers, grabbing a shirt off your vanity and wiping you clean. You finally stood up, turning around to face him despite how weak and wobbly your legs felt. Being bent over your vanity felt like forever, although it was the fastest a man had ever made you finish.

“Well, that was certainly something…” Tommy smirked cheekily, eyes still on you and arms wrapping around your naked waist. You couldn’t help but laugh and blush a little, his presence alone making you feel so shy, as if you hadn’t been moaning like a whore for him just a moment ago.

“You really do put on one hell of a show, love. You’re a natural born performer…” He smiled at his own words, leaning in to nuzzle his nose against yours before giving you a hot kiss. Then, he pulled back, just enough to whisper his proposition against your lips.

“How about we make this a regular thing? I come to all your shows… Maybe even bring you flowers… In return you be my naughty little showgirl and let me fuck n’ fill that perfect cunt and make you scream?”

You smiled without even having to think of your answer… How could a girl say no to that?

Pinterest board made by @fuckiingloser

Random Tommy playlist made by me cause why not

[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!

[invisibleicewands]

‘I’m bursting with ideas’: Michael Sheen launches new national theatre for Wales

Michael Sheen, a global star of screen and stage, is spearheading a new national theatre for Wales, promising to create big, bold plays that bring vital stories about his homeland to life.

Sheen said he was bursting with ideas and promised to appear in the newly forged Welsh National Theatre’s first production, a “foundation” story about Wales staged at the Wales Millennium Centre in Cardiff.

The actor, who has been announced as artistic director of the theatre company, told the Guardian that Wales’s stories were “under-explored in the English language”.

Sheen said: “Could you tell me the name of the great play about Aberfan or the Merthyr Rising or the Rebecca riots? Where is our Welsh canon of great plays? We can’t do Under Milk Wood for the rest of eternity. I’m bursting with ideas people are bursting with work that they want to do with us and that’s what’s really exciting about it.”

Just before Christmas, National Theatre Wales, which was established in 2009, announced it had “ceased to exist” after its Arts Council of Wales funding was cut. It has evolved into Team (theatre, education, arts, music), focusing on grassroots work.

Sheen said his new company did not yet have funding. “But that suits my way of thinking. I like the idea of starting small, simple, lean and building it up, working with what you’ve got. Don’t pay for swanky offices if you don’t need them, build it slowly with care and with passion and with vision and with ambition.

“We aim to represent the Welsh people so I would hope that public bodies would be prepared to work with us. I think probably history tells us that relying too much on any one source of funding makes you a bit vulnerable so I first and foremost would hope that this company can stand on its own two feet but we are open to working with whoever wants to get involved.”

Sheen said he was thinking big.

He said: “My instinct has always been, rightly or wrongly, that when people around you are saying: ‘No, you can’t have that, you can’t do that,’ to go even bigger and bolder and go, no we’re not going to do that, we’re going to do 10 times that.”

Sheen said he was not in a position to reveal details of performances but said the plan was to do one production a year. “The plan to begin with is do big plays really well for big audiences. I’m starting to commission writers.”

Sheen said he was also speaking with organisations such as Welsh National Opera and the Welsh language company Theatr Cymru about working together.

He said: “I’m talking about big bold ambitious world stage productions of plays about who we are, where we’ve come from, how we got to where we are and where are we going.

“The first production will be on the Millennium Centre stage. It will be a new Welsh play, it will star Welsh actors including myself, and it will be one of the foundation stories of who we are as a nation.” Sheen said the first production should be staged next year.

He was working on Nye, the hugely successful play on the life of the Welsh politician and NHS architect Aneurin Bevan, at the National Theatre in London last year when it became clear that National Theatre Wales was in deep trouble.

The company was close to Sheen’s heart as he starred in and co-directed its most celebrated work, The Passion, a modern re-telling of the crucifixion featuring hundreds of local people. “That was a life-changing experience for me,” he said.

Sheen spoke to fellow Welsh actors about what should come next. “I realised I was probably the leading candidate for what could happen now. My feeling was very strongly that it should be a completely new company. It should be a fresh start, a new charity, a new board of governors. I didn’t want to take something over I wanted to start afresh.”

When Nye transferred to the Wales Millennium Centre in Cardiff, the experience reinforced Sheen’s determination to launch a new national theatre for Wales.

Sheen said: “You know that phrase: ‘Build it and they will come.’ It was rammed every performance – they were bringing chairs from the bar to get more people in. The appetite for it was extraordinary and it was hugely moving to perform that to a Welsh audience. People were seeing a play about them and their lives and their history and their story. That was revelatory to me.”

[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

[daydreamsandafternoonteafics]

Someday, Maybe

A Let's Pretend It's Love drabble

MASTERLIST

"Y' awake, babe?"

I blink, trying to fight the sleep that stirs in my eyes. My gaze shifts to the window, realizing how much the sky has darkened and that we still have a ways to go before we're back in London.

I turn to Harry, drinking in his profile whilst squinting at him in the dark.

"Yeah, I kind of dosed off a bit," I stifle a yawn, placing a hand over my mouth. "but I'll stay awake to keep you company."

I reach over the console, grabbing hold of his hand. He smiles softly as I lace our fingers together, his eyes never leaving the road. It'd been a long day for both of us, having left London quite early that morning to spend the day in Cheshire with Harry's family.

Having not seen Anne, Robin, and Gemma for a while, I was excited to catch up with them all. The highlight for Harry however was getting to see Tabitha and Connor, his small niece and nephew. He absolutely adored them, always spoiling them rotten with affection and showering them with one gift or another.

The love he had for them was much like the love a father would have for his own children but it didn't come as a surprise.

Everyone who knew Harry Styles knew that he loved fiercely and completely.

" M' not gonna crash" he rasp. "I had a massive cup of coffee before leaving Mum's. Go to sleep if you want."

I give his hand a squeeze.

"I'd rather be up with you,"

Harry hums,still keeping his gaze on the road. Things are dead silent, the radio's turned off and I figure I have to start conversation before I fall asleep once and for all.

"Your mum's pot roast was amazing," I yawned. "And Connor, he's getting so big,"

He grins.

"I know, I remember holdin' him in my arms when he was just a couple days old," he pauses, running his tongue against his bottom lip. "and then I blinked,"

"That's the way it's supposed to go for kids I guess, one day, they're tiny little sweet things and the next they're fully grown and hella obnoxious," I replied.

Harry chuckles.

"Obnoxious or not, any good parent would worship the ground their little one walks on. I know I would,"

His hold tightens on my hand and he goes silent once more. I assume the conversation is over and I close my eyes, hoping to settle back into sleep when he speaks again.

"Have you ever thought about what it would be like?" he questions slowly.

My eyebrows furrow and my eyes fly open.

"About what would be like?"

"You know," Harry drawls, hesitation evident in his voice. "parenthood. Have you ever thought about raising kids of your own?"

The question looms in the air and my breath hitches in my throat. It was no secret that I could be quite the selfish person. Having kids was one of the furthest thoughts from my mind.

"No, not really."

Now, don't get me wrong. I found children to be very cute and enjoyed being around Tabitha and Connor, but I also had many personal goals in mind and was a strong advocate for all types of contraception, making sure to take birth control daily.

Harry and I had been together for over a year and had yet to go condomless due to my somewhat secretive fear of a surprise pregnancy.

"Not even once?" he questions.

"No, not really," I reply once again.

Harry signs deeply and from the corner of my eye I can see his expression shift.

"But, wouldn't you- wouldn't you wanna have kids, with me?"

The tone in his voice nearly screams desperation and I'm almost afraid I'd hit some kind of nerve.

"Harry, you know I love you very much," I started. "but children, that's a big step yeah?"

I take in a deep breath, feeling that this conversation will lead to an argument but hoping that it won't.

"You don't think I'd be a good dad?" he questions, his tone a bit sharp.

"That's not what I'm trying to say, H," I sighed. "there's not a doubt in my mind that you'd be an amazing father, I just-I just think it's too soon to even think about raising kids."

With that I go silent, gently prying my hand from Harry's grasp and folding my arms across my chest before turning my attention to the dark of night outside my window.

I hope he gets the picture that I want the conversation to be over but in typical Styles fashion, he has to go and push the envelope.

"That's not just all there is it, is it?" he drawls.

I sigh, defeated, knowing that Harry is once again successful in seeing through me. With other people I could be so guarded, so hard to read, but with him I was as transparent as glass.

"Who are you kidding, H? I'd be a horrible mum, we both know it. "

The corner of his lips curve up into a grin.

"You really think that, yeah?"

He chuckles and my eyebrows furrow.

"Why do you think this is funny?" I question.

""Because, I disagree," he smiles running a hand through his hair. "I think you'd be an excellent mum."

"Yeah?" I ask, a small grin tugging at the corner of my lips.

"Of course. You're a natural with Tabs and Connor. And I could totally see you being my wife and the mother of my children,"

I can feel my cheeks burn, my heart swelling with happiness, my stomach pooling with excited energy.

Right then and there, I could see it: a cozy home with flowers in a small garden, mail addressed to me in the surname Styles, Harry's photographs decorating the walls, and tiny feet toddling along the hardwood floors. It was a sweet, comforting picture of the future, one that I wouldn't mind peeking at again.

I don't know what to say so I reach over pressing a kiss to his mouth whilst we're stopped at a traffic light.

"I don't want you to feel like I'm pressurin' you or anything," Harry speaks once we've pulled away. "My vision doesn't gave to be yours,"

"But I like your vision," I grin, grabbing hold of his hand. "let's just not plan anything, I want everything to happen naturally,"

He grins.

"It'll all happen. Someday, maybe."

[tedwardremus]

2024 Year In Review

This year I came back to fandom with a vengence I never knew was possible.

I published 336,619 words to AO3 in 2024 (This doesn't count my tumblr only fics/drabbles which is crazy to think about. )

I made Harry Potter Social Media AUs and moodboards

Had some fun with House Elf Hotties, ToadButter, and the @nenaandmeldetectiveagency

But most importantly this year has brought me new friends. I would tag you all and thank you for a wonderful year but I would be too embarssed and ashamed if I missed anyone. Please know that I love all of you and thank you for making this year fun.

In 2025 I look forward to finishing the Remadora Lighthouse AU, starting the sequel to Rage Against the Dying of the Light and continue my First War one shot series about the members of the Order of the Pheonix.

My 2024 fan fic review below the cut:

Rage Against The Dying Of The Light - In a universe where James and Lily Potter survive Voldemort’s attack on Halloween night. Most of wizarding society is enjoying newfound peace after a decade of war, except the young heroes who fought the war learn you can never really go back to the way things were before

Padfoot in Privet Drive - Sirius Black follows Harry to Privet Drive after the Triwizard Tournament.

Querencia - The time Lily, James, and Harry spent as a family in their little house in the West Country was far too brief, but it was overfilled with love, laughter, and, above all, life.

30 Times James Potter Thought He Was Going To Die and 1 Time He Did  - 31 microfics for Jilytober

It’s here. Now’s the time. I tell myself I’ll be fine -

It was a normal feeling to be nervous, a rite of passage for any mother or father. After all, eleven years old wasn’t that mature—children at that age were still so small, so dependent on their parents for guidance, comfort, and care.

Hope Lupin hugs her son goodbye before he boards the Hogwarts Express.

Interesting House Guests - (Or The time Sirius invited the lads to spend the week at Grimmauld Place)

Tipping The Scales - James helps Lily get back something that is hers from the Slytherin dorms.

Does Permanent Mean Forever? - It is James Potter’s seventeenth birthday, and to commemorate the occasion, he proposes to the gang that they go out and get tattooed.

Your Friend, James - It is the summer before their 7th year, and Lily and James spend the entire holiday writing letters to each other as their relationship slowly changes from friends to something more.

Rumor Has It  - Severus doesn’t believe the rumors that Lily finally agreed to go out with James Potter.

A Happy Thought - The 7th-year Defense Against the Dark Arts Class learns the Patronus Charm. James is shocked to learn what Lily’s Patronus is.

Awful Euphemisms- Lily and James exchange laughs while discovering a new level of intimacy.

An Academic Study of Dungeon Dwellers - It was common knowledge that when the weather turned warm, students were impossible to teach and used their precious free time to soak up the sun and enjoy the outdoors. Unless of course, you were the Girlfriendus Potterus, also known by her common name, Lily Evans, who—despite the migration of most students to the sun-drenched grounds—had yet to leave the castle’s confines.

The Office Party - Petunia hoped that staying in London for Christmas would make her seem important. She imagined her parents would talk about her endlessly, telling Lily all about her new, sophisticated life in the city. How big and important she’d become. She didn't imagine that she'd meet the love of her life while at the office Christmas party.

Three Lemons and a Dragon - Once upon a time there lived a Prince named James who had to save his father’s Kingdom by getting married. One day an older woman gifts him three lemons that will lead him to his true love.

Erasmus Lovegoods’s Guide to Brewing Love Potions -At the start of every school year, the Ministry of Magic distributed leaflets to all students taking potions classes regarding the regulations and legality of highly controlled potions.

I’ll Meet You After Dark - An Alternate Universe where the Statute of Secrecy hasn’t been enacted yet. Tensions between the magical and non-magical communities are high.

My dog said I can’t go out with you - Lily had been waiting patiently for James to ask her out for the first Hogsmeade weekend of the term. Sirius insists she turn James down so Sirius can hang out with her instead. (it’s all part of Sirius’ greater matchmaking plan)

Tranquil Solitude (Until You Came Along)- All Lily wanted to do was take a nice, quiet swim on a hot day. And then James Potter showed up. And Lily had already removed her clothes for the private swim.

Midnight Train To London - An escaped yeti causes a magical snow storm that leaves the Hogwarts Express stranded without any power. Head students Lily and James take charge and bring a little holiday cheer to the students trapped on the train.

Summer Fling Don’t Mean A Thing - Lily and James meet at a potions camp over the summer and have a fling. James promises to write to her when the summer is over, but he never does. Then Hogwarts hosts an academic competition inviting all the top students from around the country to attend, including students from Cockersand Coven Academy, the school that Lily happens to attend.

This Town Is Fake But You’re The Real Thing - Teen radio star Lily Evans works for a show on the wizarding wireless network called, The Marauders. The teen soap drama stars James Potter as an arrogant school jock and centers on the secret adventures of his friends in the forbidden forest as illegal animagus and a werewolf. The show’s antagonist, played by Severus Snape, left after a scandal, and now Lily has a romantic storyline with James in the final season of the show. Basically, her life is a disaster.

Field Study - Lily and James get left behind on a deserted island after A Care of Magical Creatures field trip.

These things that are pleasin’ you can hurt you somehow  - Lily is stuck in potions for a classroom disturbance she didn’t cause.

In walks James Potter who she had been avoiding all week.

White Winter Hymnals - Holiday themed jily snippets from age eleven to adulthood

Cuckoo (or the unwanted interloper baby in the nest)  - Sirius rescues Regulus from the cave and drops him off at the Potters house so he can clean up his brother’s mess. Regulus has an awful time…. until he doesn’t.

Katabasis- Snape gets hurt when he goes into the Shrieking Shack on the full moon. It is time for Remus to face the consequences.

Citius, Altius, Fortius – Communiter - Sirius is an Olympic athlete competing in the wizard pentathlon, James is a quidditch player, and Lily is a sports reporter. The three of them meet at the Olympic Village. And well, you know what happens at the Olympic Village…

Finding Your Magical Roots  - The Black Family welcomes the reality show Finding Your Magical Roots into their home to film a special episode.

101 Padfoots - An accident in potions class results in 101 Padfoots running around Hogwarts while Lily and James work together to round them all up

She Faced Danger, But Never Feared It  - Dorcas Meadowes is a healer at St. Mungo’s who specializes in emergency healing. A grandmother in her 60s who believes in caring for all members of the magical community. She is recruited by Albus Dumbledore to join the Order after she publishes and article in the Daily Prophet arguing that the rise of dark magic is a public health crisis.

When Death Would Not Come - Moody and the others will be here soon. Just endure for one more minute. Thirty more seconds. Five more seconds. As long as Neville was okay, she could endure anything.

Goodbyes and Surprise Greetings - Ginny’s brothers have abandoned her at the Burrow while they go to school or leave the country. But then she gets a surprise visitor.

The Past is a Bucket of Ash - Over burnt photographs, Harry had a late-night chat with Sirius about his family history.

Our Troubles Are Miles Away - “Would you like to unwrap your present?” she whispered into his ear, her voice low and teasing, yet so tender it made him ache.

He hesitated. He shouldn’t. He knew better.

(Remus and Tonks have a small Christmas celebration while everyone else is asleep at Grimmauld Place.)

To Guinevere - The New Year's Eve party at Grimmauld Place was a complete bore. But then Ginny walked into the room with a basket of homemade cards.

The Parting Glass - The last full moon, Moony and Padfoot spend together.

Retrouvaille (or the happiness of meeting someone you love after a long time)- The times Sirius and Harry reunited and the times they were forced to say goodbye.

Attinge - Harry shaves his head after the battle. Only Ginny understands why.

Secret Garden - Neville plants Hannah a secret garden on the roof of the Leaky Cauldron. She wants to show him how grateful she is for the gift.

Burnt Cookies - Hannah keeps burning cookies as she gets ready for the Leaky Cauldron’s Halloween party.

Luckily, Neville is there to comfort her.

Tinsel In Her Hair - Neville helps Hannah decorate the Leaky Cauldron for Christmas. He notices something shiny in her hair.

1994 Quidditch World Cup  - Harry wants only one thing for his fourteenth birthday: tickets to see the final match of the Quidditch World Cup. Well, two things if you count his sudden desire to kiss Ginny Weasley.

A Time To Mourn - Sirius Black, recently declared innocent by the Ministry of Magic, visits his godson on Halloween.

Feels Like Home To Me - Snippets inside the Potter family home

Werewolf Registration Act of 1947 - A history of magic essay helps Teddy understand his deceased father a littler bit better.

Tethered - Teddy and Vic discover the isolated and deserted Hogwarts boathouse to be the perfect place to be alone together.

It’s All About The Timing - James Sirius Potter has wanted to ask Ellie Longbottom out since he was twelve years old. Unfortunately, he can never get the timing right.

Know Your Roots- Albus Potter is unsure if helping Uncle Neville repot moonwort plants is part of detention or a lame attempt at godfather and godson bonding. It might be both.

Acting Professional - Teddy wants to see Victoire’s new office while at a work event.

Ginny’s Very Serious Investigation - When Luna casually mentions in the postscript of her latest letter that she got married, Ginny is not having it. Who the hell is Rolf Scamander, and why is Luna marrying him without any prior warning?

Snuffles & Son - Sirius raises Harry and opens a shop that specializes in repairing cursed artifacts and places protection wards on family heirlooms. One day, an Unspeakable from the Department of Mysteries walks in with a cursed artifact from his cousin’s confiscated Gringotts vault, requesting Sirius’s assistance.

Be Not Afraid Of Greatness - A collection of Frank Longbottom stories

Without A Trace - Babies don’t just disappear without a trace

The Lighthouse - There is an old fishing town off the jagged rocky coast covered in permanent fog and a broken lighthouse that is no longer able to bring ships safely to shore. Tonks travels to the forgotten place to record an episode of her popular podcast. Imagine Tonks' surprise when she arrives at the abandoned lighthouse and comes face to face with its kind yet lonely keeper—Remus.

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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.